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silassinclair · 2 years

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“You’re my Muse”

[Billy H. x Artistic Reader] 🎨

Summary: Y/n loves Billy’s face. He’s just so handsome and gorgeous and UGH. She loves holding his face and looking into his eyes, and Billy is just like, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFF

Glam metal music played softly from Billy’s stereo. The volume was turned down more than his usual listening volume because his girlfriend Y/n was doodling in her sketchbook on his bed. He absolutely adored her. She was cute seven ways to sunday. Her cute little hobby of drawing, her love for bugs, but most importantly was her weird fascination for his face.

Weird because it was only his face. Her pages were full of realistic sketches of his face at many different angles and making many different expressions. He was flattered and never questioned it, but it got to the point where she would hold his face in her hands for long minutes at a time and just stare adoringly.

Billy loves her to the moon and back but he cannot help but feel… a little weirded out by her quirky behavior, not in a bad way of course. So he finally asks, “Hey baby?”

The sound of pencil on paper stops. “Yeah Billy?” Y/n asks and crawls over to him. He was seated on the floor against the bed she was on so she leaned down and put her cheek against his, another thing she did quite often.

“Not to sound mean.” He starts, “But I gotta ask you, what is with you and always being all over my face. I know that I’m handsome and attractive and the hottest guy ever but I can’t help but feel like you have a weird fascination for my face.” He says with a light grin.

An awkward pause fills the room. Even the song on the stereo was quieting down, playing it’s last part.

“Well uh.” Y/n say straight up and scratched her neck. She knew this day would come. After all personal space is important so of course her boyfriend would question her weird actions. “I just really like your face.”

Billy turned around with a quirked up eyebrow and a smirk. “Oh I know that babe. That’s why you’re all over me after all. But I wanna know more. Give me the sweet juicy details.” His thumb brushed against her hand that he had held in his.

“To put it simply, you’re my muse Billy.” She said with a smile. Her head tilted to the side to see Billy’s facial expression change from smugness to wonder.

“Your jawline is sharp, cheekbones are prominent, and your eyes,” Y/n gently takes hold of his face. His head is turned up as her fingers trace gently against his jaw. Billy is at a loss for words, no one has EVER said anything like this to him before.

“Your eyes are absolutely stunning. I could drown in that gorgeous blue color.” She places a small peck on the space between his eyes.

“And don’t get me started on your lips.” Her thumb traces the plump bottom lip. “They’re so smooth and plump. I just wanna kiss em all day.”

At this point Billy’s face was as red and flush as the crimson paint Y/n used in her artworks. The affection was almost overwhelming. His brain simply couldn’t process how someone so sweet, cute, and humble could adore him this much. He thought men were the ones who were supposed to fluster their girlfriends, but apparently it was the other way around right now.

“I love all of you.” Y/n whispered softly and placed a light kiss on his cheek.

In the blink of an eye Billy pounced and had Y/n pinned under his body. Her arms spread limply by her sides under the soft cushion of Billy’s mattress.

“Do you really mean that?” Billy said. His tone was like a whisper. Hope in his voice wishing it were true, but he knew it was too good to be true. “All that you said, you mean it?” His golden brown locks fluttered from side to side, framing his perfect face.

The girl reached a hand up to cup the jaw of her lover above. A smile painted her face. “I meant every word, love.” That petname for him had hime weak in the knees any time she said it, which was pretty rarely. Usually she’d just call him Billy, baby, or B.

Billy leant down and trapped her lips in a heated kiss. He never wanted tor leave this moment. In between kisses Y/n giggled, her arm’s wrapped around his neck lovingly.

“Aw? Is my sweet boyfriend flustered? Or do you just really like being praised and complimented?”

A growl escaped the depths of his throat. “How could I not be a blushin’ mess when you say shit like that?” His lips traced the shell of her ear. “God I don’t deserve you baby.” His whisper sent a shiver down her spine.

She smirked and batted her lashes, “Oh and that sexy voice of yours, I could listen to it all da-”

She was cut off with a kiss. Her boyfriend’s eyes were wide and his cheeks were on fire, his bottom lip twitching too much so he bit down on it.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll show you how much I love you more.”

#stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fluff #stranger things fanfiction #fluff

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rostovs-lover · 3 years

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dalí on tuesday

charlie dalton x reader | cursing, smoking, brief mentions of sexual things, charlie (probably) has daddy issues, cameron | she/her pronouns | fluff | wc.2562

i am in love with charlie, this is now a charlie dalton centric blog, also ignore how terrible the title is please

anon : Hi!! I love your blog! can I request a charlie Dalton x reader fluff where reader is an artist and he visits them while they're painting? (maybe they end up wiping paint on his face?) I don't know, something really sweet at cute <33333

Charlie Dalton had been resigned to relish in small pleasures to keep himself sane at school, never did he think the library would be one of those. More specifically, the painter tucked into the basement of the library.

───☮︎───

Charlie Dalton was a connoisseur of many things. Pretty girls, expensive wine, shitty poetry, and hand rolled cigarettes - to name a few. His imprisonment at Wellington made only one of those things readily available. So he settled - boxes of cheap smokes bought through upperclassmen, bottles of grocery store wine someone would sneak in from a party, and the two girls that occasionally came with Knox. The shitty poetry was always on deck, he had that at least. It was a tragedy to be resigned to such a bland life, there was absolutely no carpe diem-ing happening in a school that held adolescent boys to uniforms.

It was miserable, truly, but Charlie scrapped by on the thought that soon enough there would be no more stuffy Catholic school and he could finally have a taste of freedom. In the meantime, he would have what little fun he could. The meets in the cave were always the highlight of the week. A place where he could talk and people would listen, and not because they had to but because they enjoyed it. They enjoyed his words and thoughts and presence. No one else had ever really seemed to enjoy Charlie’s presence. They could tolerate it, handle it, but they always had more pressing matters. A business meeting to attend, a bill to pay, a dinner to go to. Always something just a little bit more important and never quite enough time for Charlie. But the other Dead Poets, they valued him. He wasn’t just a kid, a college tuition to pay and a life to layout. He was a person, with interests and hobbies.

It had been there, in the safe haven of the cave, that the idea for the library first came up. Meeks had already talked Pitts into coming, Neil didn’t take much convincing at all, Todd was also easy to lure, Cameron groaned about leaving school grounds but refused to be left out, and Knox agreed to go but only if Nuwanda came too. Charlie had already started to cover what there was to do at a library, read?

Meeks dove into the technical manuals and Pitts followed tentatively, cradling their science project in his arms. Todd had followed Neil to the S authors, Cameron was trying to chat up the woman at the register, and God only knew what Knox was doing. He had been stranded with few options. He could find the geniuses and be talked over for the next hour or third wheel Neil but that guaranteed intruding on something he probably shouldn’t. The polite thing to do would be to rescue Cameron from making a complete fool of himself, throwing bad pick up lines at a clearly uninterested college student, but it was amusing to watch.

Charlie settled on trying to find Knox, at least then he could have some company. Said company was absolutely nowhere to be found. The rows of shelves wound in a confusing maze and Charlie was lost before he could even begin to look. Weaving around he did come face-to-face with a rather large picture of Charles Dickens that made him recoil. It was perched just at eye level above a short staircase and it seemed to judge his every movement. Charlie followed the carpeted stairs down to escape Mister Dickens’ strange little beard and beady black eyes.

The further down the steps Charlie descended the brighter it appeared. The lower level was the children’s section. Considerably more fun than science books or Shakespeare. The big oak counter was abandoned but the lights were still on. He was alone, still.

Charlie sighed, sitting down in one of the bright red wooden chairs. He was much too big for it but it held well under his weight. A sad stuffed bear stared dully into him from the green glossy table.

“Well hello,” He mumbled, picking it up under the arms, “And you must be?” He cleared his throat to take on a gruff baritone, “Mister... Bearington,” Charlie sighed, that was bad. He dropped the bear into his lap, “This is so stupid,”

“Bearington?”

Charlie shot around in the chair, tipping himself off center and stumbling to his feet, bear still clutched in his arms, “Where the hell did you come from?”

“A few blocks over, walked here actually.” You turned back to your work. A painting. Not just a painting, Charlie realized, a mural. It stretched the length of the wall, roughly sketched in pencil and waiting to be finished.

He blinked, “That’s good. The wall I mean,”

“Thank you,” Your face flustered and Charlie took notice, “It’s not much of anything yet, just an outline. It’ll look better painted.”

He took a few steps closer, sidling up to you, “What’s it supposed to be?”

“A forest,” You pointed to a rotund blob perched on a long line, “That’s an owl, and there’s going to be a fox somewhere down in the grass,”

Charlie grinned, “That’s an owl?”

“That-” you tapped the blob, “Is a shape, objectively. Subjectively, it’s an owl.”

His brow creased, “Subjectively it’s an owl? That's like saying Mister Bearington is a rabbit, subjectively,”

You stared at him, baffled. It was almost irritating that he could so casually come down to your domain and invade your creative bubble. And it was even worse that he talked to himself as a stuffed bear but now he was challenging your judgment on what was and was not subjectively an owl. But he had a wonderful smile and it lessened the intrusion. Plus, you had never seen a teenage boy develop an attachment to a stuffed bear as quickly as he had, “What’s your name?”

“Nuwanda,” He grinned, setting his chin atop his bear’s plush head.

“Nuwanda?” You blinked at him, “That’s… neat. I’ve never heard that before.”

“What can I say? The only Nuwanda this side of Vermont. What’s your name?”

As you opened your mouth to answer several sets of footsteps thundered down the stairs. Knox spun around the corner first, closely followed by Pitts and Meeks.

“Charlie!” Knox called, “We gotta go before Cameron proposes to the clerk.”

You looked at the boy in front of you, “Is Charlie short for Nuwanda, or just a nickname?”

He shrugged, “I’m Nuwanda, subjectively. It was truly a pleasure meeting you. Can’t wait to see your thing DaVinci!” He set the stuffed bear back on the table as he made his way out of the room. With Charlie’s energy gone it became much quieter and you were plunged back into the impressionistic outline of your artwork.

The next time a library trip was suggested Charlie didn’t completely dread it. Yes, it was still numbingly boring because it was a library and he didn’t have clerks to fall in love with, people to write love letters to, anyone to kiss in the aisles, or a spaceship to build, but he did have his own personal Van Gough to torment.

The lower level was the first place he went, not even hanging his coat on the rack inside the big double doors. He made his way past Cameron’s preoccupied receptionist and under Dickens’ hard glower. Halfway down the steps, the smell hit Charlie. Wet paint.

You had just picked out a brush when he pulled one of the wooden chairs next to your station. He sat in it backwards, holding Mister Bearington out in front of him, “Never got your name Monet,”

“Well, it's not that. Or Da Vinci.” You stroked the brush up the grassy outline.

“Do you want me to guess?”

You had yet to look at him, “Nope,”

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“Should I?”

“Obviously, I told you my name.”

You set the brush down and turned to face him, “(Name).”

“Pretty,”

Charlie Dalton liked many things and the musty old library uptown had never been one of them. It had ancient red carpets and gaudy gold ceilings and it was trying too hard to look regal. So it was a sheer shock when he began to leap at the suggestion of going and even more so when he chose to go by himself one afternoon. Naturally, the other poets followed him, they had to.

Charlie didn’t dally upstairs, waving hi to the clerk and rushing down to the children’s section. A sign was posted outside the entrance warning of wet paint but he stepped around it.

“You’re making progress Picasso!” He set his hands on his hips and took in the wall.

You turned back to look at him, “Did you not see the caution: wet paint, do not enter sign?”

“Oh no I saw it,” He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, “It's bright orange, hard to miss, really,”

“So you just chose to ignore it?”

He nodded, making his way over to sit by you on the ground, “I choose to ignore lots of things, it really makes life easier,”

You shook your head, “Are you just going to sit here and bother me?”

“Yes, that's actually the whole reason I came today, believe it or not.”

You blubbered in vague disbelief, “Please tell me you’re not serious,”

“Dead serious,” Charlie grinned, leaning closer, “I had to see how your weird owl was going. And also make sure you hadn’t gone mad and cut your own ear off yet,”

“You’ve already used the Van Gogh joke, Charles,”

“Maybe I want your ear,”

You paused, “You… what?”

Charlie’s confidence cracked, “That was bad. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to sound that way. It was like, a bad pickup line? Because Van Gogh cut his ear off to send to his girlfriend,” He sighed, shaking his head, “Sorry,”

“I mean if I had to pick someone to give my ear too I guess you would be my first choice?”

Charlie looked at you, eyebrows pinched together, “Why?”

You shrugged, “No one else has asked, first come first serve.” You dipped your brush back into the blue paint and went to work on a patch of flowers.

“Huh, well I do appreciate it,” Charlie scooted closer, leaning over your shoulder. He was close, very close. When you took a breath you could smell his cologne and whatever it was he used in his hair and you could feel the edge of his sunglasses brush your ear. He brought an arm around to dip his finger into the soft sky colour on your palette. And then he wiped it on your nose.

You gasped sharply at the foreign feeling, snapping your head to the side to glare at him, “Why?!”

Charlie snickered, leaning back, “The opportunity presented itself, how could I just let that pass?”

You reached back, squirting a touch of purple paint over the palm of your hand, “That was truly a horrible idea,”

Charlie shot up just as you did, stumbling backwards, “I’m sorry-” He stuck his hands up in surrender, “I regret my actions and if I could take them back I would,”

“Hmm, but you can’t” You took a step closer, “Surrender now and it doesn’t have to get any messier than this,”

He pointed towards your paint coated hand, “Do not,”

You grinned, “I might,”

“I’m begging,”

“Fine-” You offered him your other hand, “Truce?”

Charlie mulled it over for a moment, “Fine, truce,” He grabbed your clean hand and you used it to pull him towards you.

“Why on earth would you trust me?” You tugged him even closer as he shrieked and smeared your hand down his cheek, “There, now we’re even,”

Getting distracted by your triumph gave Charlie the upper hand. He pulled you to him the same you had done to him and pressed his cheek flush to yours. The paint was cold against your skin and you jolted back, away from him.

“Vile,” You hissed, “You are vile and evil. That's so cold. You will pay, I hope you know that.”

Charlie snorted, “Oh please, what’re you gonna do?”

“You underestimate me, you ass, I’ll figure something out,”

“Will you?” Charlie grinned, “I will be waiting in anticipation,”

“You better be,”

Meeks elbowed back into Cameron’s ribs, “You’re going to knock me over,”

Cameron craned his neck further to peek around the corner into the children’s section, “I just want to see, let me look,”

“Nothing is happening-” Meeks snipped, “They’re just talking now and I might be able to hear if you could can it!”

Cameron rolled his eyes, “Of course, whatever you say,”

“Will you shut up?” Knox batted at Cameron’s shoulder, “They’ll see us, we’re not super well hidden,”

“If you don’t stop talking they’ll realize we’re here,” Pitts mumbled, rolling his eyes. Cameron started to rebuttal, turning to look at Gerard but the motion knocked Meeks out of place and he gasped, stumbling forwards. This did indeed draw Charlie’s attention.

“Meeks, what the hell?” Charlie snapped. He was in a state, sunglasses askew in his hair, paint smeared from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth, and his shirt was wrinkled away from his collarbone.

Meeks stared, “Hi Charlie. Are there any textbooks down here, uh… the science ones?”

Knox groaned, stepping out from behind the wall as well, “We wanted to see why you came here on a Tuesday afternoon by yourself,”

Charlie blubbered, “Did you all come? Is Keating there too?”

“He could be,” Meeks shrugged.

Charlie rolled his eyes, “Will you leave, I’ll be upstairs in a second,” The other poets nodded, scampering up the steps to the first level.

“Assholes, should have known they’d come,” Charlie sighed, adjusting the sunglasses atop his head, “I need to go before they decide to intrude again. I’ll see you soon though, anxiously anticipating payback,”

He was almost out the door when you bucked up the courage to call out to him, “Charlie, wait.” You let him turn back to you before continuing, “Could I have your phone number?”

He clicked his teeth, “Don’t have one, private school. But I’ll find the library number in the books and try to shoot you a call sometime,” He winked and started back up to his friends.

Knox was waiting at the landing with a handful of tissues, which he shoved into Charlie’s hands, “So you’re gonna read your stupid poem about tits at a Dead Poets meet and then not tell us you’ve got a girlfriend?”

Charlie grabbed the tissues, “Not my girlfriend, I meet her like two weeks ago,”

“Didn’t stop Knox,” Neil elbowed him.

Charlie wiped at his face, “Well I’m not Knox. I like her painting, she's good.”

“It looks like she was painting you,” Cameron slapped at Charlie’s chest and he threw the tissues at him in retaliation.

“Shut up, at least my library worker actually talks to me,”

Cameron fumbled with the dirty material, batting it away from his chest, “You dick!”

Charlie grinned, pulling his glasses down and starting towards the door. Something about it was thrilling, having this to himself. A little secret that he and you shared. His personal Salvador Dalí, something to look forwards to besides bad tobacco and Keating’s eccentric lectures. It was bright and exciting and he felt seen. He felt important. The blue paint he had stolen from your tray was still on the tip of his pointer finger and he wondered how long it would be until he could see you again.

( @interwebseriesfan24 )

#dead poets society #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton imagine #dead poets society x reader #dead poets society imagine #its the way this tried to crash my computer #also peep the new format #dedicated to everyone who said theyd read if i posted dps #enjoy!#dps #lennie writes

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hangovercurse · 3 years

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Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson imagine

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beigehearts · 3 years

Text

The Price of Self Respect

Read part one here! PART II CW: mutilation, gore, puke

1,729 words

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He’s observing you, every inch of your body. He stared as if you were an art piece, but you begin to wonder what was the true meaning behind it. His grin disappears as if he realizes he’s showing too much emotion. “I never thought the creator would look like this. Though it’s never good to assume.”

Somehow his comment struck a chord in you, and you aren’t someone to stay quiet. “I never thought the Spider’s Leader was a pretty boy, though it’s never good to assume.” You scoff and shake your head. His eyes widen though you aren’t bothering to look at the man anymore. “Wire me my money- I have better things to do than stay where my mission is finished.” You turn on your heel and click your way out of the room, and Chrollo didn’t try to stop you.

Laying in bed at 7 pm, watching an oldy cheesy and romantic movie, you bite into a sour gummy worm. You snuggle deeper into the large, soft bed, sinking into it’s warmth and achieving nirvana. Maybe you should go to a bar. You haven’t gone out for a drink in a while, you try not to be intoxicated for a week before a mission. It could slow you down. Seeing as you have no missions, and assuming you won’t for quite a while, you might as well indulge yourself.

After putting on minimum makeup, and a comfortable but cute outfit, you call a cab to pick you up at the front of the hotel. You used the hotel phone of course, not your own to call a cab. Before you head down to the lobby, you quickly draw a thread ring on your finger. If any nen is use within five feet of you, it will snap. This was you don’t have to constantly exhaust yourself by using gyo constantly.

You are shielded from the rain by the awning in front of the hotel, you hold your arms to your chest as a chill runs through you. It’s quite cold today, you’re surprised that it’s not snowing or sleeting. A yellow car pulls up to the curb and you rush into the back seat.

“Hi, I’m headed to the Lotus Bar.” You say in a sweet voice, as you do to anyone providing you a service.

The man in front of you seems cramped in this somewhat small car. He’s wearing a cabbie uniform besides the hat. His hair is in a high pony tail and his head is only a few centimeters away from the roof of the car. He nods towards you and mumbles, “Okay.”

You try not to think much of it but the hunter in you tells you to worry. You know there are weird people in York New city, and your thread ring hasn’t broken so you should be fine.

Five minutes into the car ride and you reach the highway, at this time the cabbie starts to make conversation. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

You put on a fake smile even though he can’t see it, “Yes, I’m just visiting for a few days. On business.”

He nods while keeping his eyes on the road, “What kind of business? Are you an auctioneer?”

“No no, I’m just here meeting some coworkers. It’s more of a business vacation than it is a business trip I should say.” Rain hits the windows as if trying to break through the glass and hit you. Car lights are blurred because of the heavy rain and you wonder if the cabbie would be able to see clearly enough out of the front window.

The cabbie pulls over to the side of the highway and sighs. “Is it raining too hard to see?” You ask innocently.

He turns in his seat towards you, he has a crooked nose, and deep deep eyes. His frown doesn’t falter when he says, “We’ve reached our destination.”

The ring on your finger snaps.

He lunges at you, grabbing you by the throat and punching you impossibly hard in the gut. Your body begs to cough violently but the hand around your throat prevents you to. You punch him in his crooked nose and he loosens his grip on you. You contort your leg to kick him in the neck, and he goes flying into the dashboard.

Blood splatters all over the car’s shitty leather seats when you cough so hard that you become worried your organs will be coming out next. You scramble for the car door and leap out head and hands first. Right as your hands feel the cold and wet road, he grabs your ankle. You glance back at him and his lips quirk upwards, “Nice try. “ The cabbie grabs your thigh and calf, with brute force there’s a loud crack. It takes a moment to register in your mind- but not long. You scream out in agony, and slide out of the car and onto the road once he lets go of you. You flip onto your back and see it, your leg is bent in a way that no leg should be bent. The sight of it causes bile to rise in your throat, and you turn over, everything that was in your stomach forcing itself out of your body. Once everything has left your stomach, you flop back down on your back and grit your teeth in pain.

The man steps out of the car, and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. Your foot digs into his rib cage, simply because it’s been forced into an unnatural position. You feel a buzzing coming from the man’s pocket and he grabs his phone and answers it, as if in no rush at all.

“Nobunaga. What’s taking you so long?”

You conjure your pencil and begin sketching in the air.

“I’m on my way.”

It’s starting to come together. A ferocious creature.

“Chrollo told you to be here ten minutes ago. Did you sit down and have a damn drink with the girl?!”

The incredibly large dog begins to form into a physical creature.

The man, Nobunaga, groans and growls into the phone, “I’ll be there soon.” He hands up and puts his phone back in his pocket.

Nobunaga stops and turns when he hears an eardrum shattering bark. His eyes widen but he’s not quick enough to stop the feral dog you’ve created. It sinks it’s fangs into the back of Nobunaga’s leg, and takes a chunk out of him. He screams in pain, collapsing, unable to stand at this point. Things begin to go black, the pain becoming too much for consciousness. You reach out for the dog and as it stretches to grab you gently, to run away with you, it whimpers loudly. It begins to dissipate into dust. Someone had attacked your dog with nen. Above you, standing in the ashes of your large pooch, is Chrollo.

“Come on, let’s go y/n.”

Your mind is fuzzy, sounds are nothing but unintelligible nonsense, and your sight has already gone. At least the pain would be gone for a while, if you woke up.

Who knows how much time has passed, certainly not you. It’s quiet, deafeningly quiet. You peel your eyes open. which requires a lot of effort. Your body is fighting you to stay down but you sit up with much pain. Your stomach feels as if a wrecking ball has slammed into you. You pull the shirt that is not yours up and see a black and blue bruise blooming on your stomach with sprouts of yellow. Speaking of, who’s clothes are these? You look down at your legs, wearing sweatpants much to big for your frame. You feel down to your knee and wince, it seems to be back in place, and wrapped carefully with some kind of nen.

A sigh escapes your lips and you take in your surroundings. It’s dark but your eyes have adjusted to it already. You lay on a makeshift bed, with a light sheet covering your bare feet. The floor is concrete but so are the walls. The room is maybe, 10ft by 7ft wide. The only light in this small, claustrophobic room comes from the moonlight through a hole in the ceiling.

Your eyes wander towards the entrance of the room, a man sits on a wooden chair that looks incredibly uncomfortable. His eyes don’t even look up from his book when he says, “How are you feeling y/n?”

“Well, my leg is broken and I’ve been kidnapped. So not bad.”

He closes his book and chuckles, then gently places his book on the floor next to him. “You put up quite a fight. It was wonderful to see you create something so beautifully.” Chrollo sits on the floor at the end of your makeshift floor bed. “It truly was delightful.”

You look down at your hands in your lap, “How is Nobunaga?”

“He’s okay, he’s been through worse.”

“Whose clothes are these?” Suddenly you have many questions that you want answered.

“They’re mine.” He states. Though the statement surprises you, you could never imagine Chrollo wearing sweatpants and a white t shirt.

“So what am I here for. Information? You gonna torture me? Go ahead, you guys already broke my leg.” You say as if he’s the one who broke your leg.

Chrollo stares at you in wonderment. “You have quite a lot of questions. I can’t blame you.” He looks up to the single light source and nods to himself. “I’ve been observing you for quite a while.

Once the words reach your ears, a red tint covers your cheeks. How could you not have known he was watching you? How long has he been watching you? How much does he even know about you?!

“I’m a specialist as well. I’ll let you know what my nen ability is.” For some reason this makes your heart pound, do you want to know what his ability is?

“I take other people’s abilities, so they can no longer use it, and I can use as many as I take. That’s why I tracked you down. Your ability is quite unique.” He looks at you with a genuine smile, “But then I began to like you too much to just take your ability. So instead I took you.”

#chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #hxh #hunterxhunter #yandere #phantom troupe #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #y/n #self insert

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jjk-biased · 4 years

Text

jungkook x reader

requested by @atulipandarose (oooh soulmate/jungkook/one shot!! it's been big missing jk hours over here)

genre: fluff, soulmate au

words: 2.5k of dumb jungkook pining

warnings: none >< cussing here and there, also my first time writing just fluff so please be kind. unedited!!!

synopsis: jungkook never loved the idea of soulmates because he liked you and he wanted only you.

masterlist | events masterlist

There it was, the panging he felt in his heart even if he wasn’t the person in pain. As his chest throbbed, it was emotional pain he supposed, the song began to play in his head. He gritted his teeth, upset to have been reminded once again of the world he lived in.

The world had to be so stupid to believe in such nonsense. It was idiotic. They had to be so naive to rely on this whole scam - to the point where they even revolve their lives around it.

It isn’t true. It’s far-fetched. This whole soulmate system wasn’t reliable.

He lived in a world where the universe decided who each person’s other was. Soulmates existed. It was everywhere. And he didn’t like it one bit.

Whoever made the world like this had to be an utter idiot. Why would anyone allow something like this to take over people’s lives? This bullshit soulmate system gave people a false sense of hope that someone out of the millions and millions of people would be the only right person for you. That somehow, out of 7.5 billion people, someone would be the perfect yin to your yang.

It shouldn’t exist. Soulmates shouldn’t exist.

Come to think of it, how can the universe even be so sure that the person they have “destined” for him is the right one? And, honestly, who even gave the universe the right to choose for him?

Fuck the universe, Jeon Jungkook wanted to pick for himself.

He thought this whole sham was an inconvenience. Unlike almost every love-crazed and soulmate-addict person, he thought otherwise. Jungkook felt suffocated at the thought of being tied down to someone who he probably didn’t even like. He didn’t need whoever they had for him. He didn’t have to meet this so-called pre-destined love of his life to live happily.

Actually, he did. Or else he would forever be haunted by it. He’d go crazy.

People had different “soulmate indicators” -- basically something in their body that gave them a hint on whoever they were destined for. Namjoon, his writer friend, had a tattoo of his soulmate’s name on his collarbone. Jimin, the short friend, had a ring on his finger with the initials of his soulmate and would even change colors depending on the mood of his other. One part of Taehyung's hair is the same color as his soulmate’s, regardless if he tried to dye it along with his locks.

To say the least, theirs were easy to find, to discover - much more convenient than what the universe had in store for dear Jeon Jungkook. His had to be the most vague indicator of this whole scam.

A song.

The universe gave Jungkook one specific song that only he and his soulmate knew. Not a name, not a ring, not even a hair color. Just one fucking song.

Jeon Jungkook didn’t want to believe in this obviously fraudulent scheme that the universe set up. Despite his woes and resentment towards the system, Jungkook couldn’t exactly ignore it. The song, somehow sung by both him and the soulmate, always played in his head whenever he or the other would feel down. Somehow, it only played when any of them were sad. Not when they’re happy. Not when they’re angry. Not when they’re bored. Only when one or the other wasn’t feeling well.

But hey, at least he knew when it would start.

There would always be a pang in his chest before it began. It was akin to when the dog dies in the movie, or when someone relayed bad news, or when the character in a book had to leave. The weird feeling would be eased immediately as soon as the song played in their head. It would lull him to sleep, he guessed it held the same effect for whoever was on the other side, and would make him feel at home.

But he did not like this soulmate bullshit.

Not one bit.

Even if the song brought him great comfort. Even if it was the only thing he looked forward to when he had a bad day. Even if his soulmate’s honey-like voice blended well with his.

Wait shit, he should be hating this nonsense. Why did he just think that his soulmate sang nicely?

Fuck it. Forget what he thought. It didn’t matter anyway.

He had other things to think about anyway, especially how to gain the courage to ask his friend out.

Jungkook is currently and sadly a college student, who, aside from drowning in student debt, studies fine arts. He hopes to become a renowned artist someday, and in pursuing so, had to disobey his typical Asian parents’ wish for him to be called Dr. or Atty. someday.

Soulmate hatred aside, art had always been his passion. Despite growing into a family full of doctors, lawyers, and judges, he knew his heart belonged in fine arts. When his brother would play with the toy syringes and stethoscopes, he would be seen getting himself dirty with the washable markers. That love for coloring grew into something more, and so Jungkook decided he would become an artist in the future.

It was always so freeing for him to dabble in the blues and greens and create whatever he visualized in his mind. The pencil in his hand could easily convey the emotions he had trouble vocalizing. All of his troubles would go away faster than you can say worldwide handsome Jin-hyung with the aid of his drawing tablet. Everything about art just intrigued him. Art was easy. Art was comforting.

Art is where he felt free.

It wasn’t suffocating. Unlike his family that wanted him to be someone he couldn’t become and this soulmate shit that wanted to cuff him down to one specific person he doubts would even go well with him.

He wanted the soulmate system gone. For reasons that seemed justified to him and only him.

He could live without the incessant nagging of his very traditional family who wanted to sped things up. Jungkook would finally stop seeing some of his soulmate-less acquaintances miserable. He could finally go on with his sad day without the song that would automatically play in his head.

Wait… that last thought made him feel sad. Perhaps he would miss the song after all.

Anyway, and above all, he could finally court his cute friend without having to worry of the soulmate shabang.

Jungkook didn’t want whoever the universe paired him with. He wanted his cute seatmate and friend, Y/N Y/L/N.

Y/N Y/L/N. Your name was perfect.

The way your name rolled off his tongue felt just right. The way your nose would scrunch as you focused on sketching the naked dude who had to pose in front of everyone. The way you would tilt your head when the professor never made sense with his discussions.

Everything about you was just so… perfect.

You were kind-hearted, considerate, and intelligent. Your humor was unmatched and you were very enthusiastic when you conversed with Jungkook. From a small crush, his liking towards you grew into something he couldn’t exactly ignore. He liked you more than he liked to listen to the duet in his head.

Okay… scratch that. Maybe he did like his significant other’s singing voice. It eased his worries after a troublesome day. Admittedly, he had found comfort in it.

If only the universe allowed him to converse with whoever was on the other side, then maybe he didn’t have to loathe this system so much. He could’ve gotten a friend out of it, not a soulmate… but a friend.

Somehow, his thoughts wandered back to you. God, imagine if you were his soulmate. Jungkook would be more than happy if that happened. But he didn’t need the universe to act on his feelings for you. Jungkook will do something… He knew he had to do something about it. He just didn’t know when.

All of his thinking made Jungkook revert to airplane mode, so it was only then that he noticed you concernedly waving your hand in front of his face for a sign of consciousness. He found your scrunched up face painstakingly cute but holy shit… why are you so close? Please don’t be so close. Jungkook would malfunction if you decreased the space between you two even more.

“Are you okay, kook?” You luckily stepped back once he locked eyes with you.

Ah… that sweet voice of yours that could rival the comforting honey-like singing in his head.

“Y-yeah! Sorry, was spacing out,” Jungkook’s words were jumbled as he noticed he was staring at you like a gaping goldfish instead of answering like a normal person.

Your giggles rang throughout the room at his predicament. He crookedly grinned then laughed along. This must be heaven. Your happiness was always contagious and he’d often mirror the smile on your face whenever you were happy.

You made him feel giddy as much as he did on the days he finished his artworks. You made him complete.

But that damn soulmate thing had to ruin it.

How he wished you were his soulmate.

“I thought something happened to you, kook! Mr. Kang dismissed us some time ago but you were still frozen in your seat when everyone left. I was so… worried,” You chuckled, though quite red and hesitant at the end.

Well did that instigate the butterflies in Jungkook’s tummy.

“Concerned for me?” Jungkook teased, it was his go-to response because he couldn’t exactly flirt in straight sentences.

Your eyebrows furrowed but the pink hue became much more evident. Jungkook didn’t even mind the kick you gave him because he made you feel a bit flustered. Success :D

“Taehyungie’s been busy, hasn’t he?” You said, trying to change the subject so everyone could forget the embarrassment.

Taehyung, the theater kid and drama major, was friends with the both of you. He had been busy for the past month because their project was to create a series of plays to showcase to the school. Their show will be on Tuesday, days away from now.

Right! He could invite you to the play.

“He is… Hey,” You tilted your head and hummed when Jungkook’s voice sounded a bit unsure.

“Do you wanna go with me to the play?”

The red on your face and the shy nod you did made him swell in accomplishment. He can’t wait for Tuesday to come.

Fuck. He should’ve waited for Tuesday to come. Now it is Tuesday and he was too nervous to even stand in a five-meter radius near you. Slapping himself to forget the momentary faltering of his confidence, he shakily waited at the foot of your doorstep with an album in his hand.

You two bonded on music and he knew you well enough to know you’d rather have the CD of your favorite artist than some flower that would wilt after awhile. He was right. The beam on your face when he handed over the gift made him so happy that all his nerves were washed away. You always had a way to ease him, even if you weren’t aware.

“M’lady,” He jokingly tried to replicate a british accent as he offered his arm, waiting for you. And as you always would, you took his arm along with an accent-laced, “M’lord,”

Jungkook forgot his worries for a moment and it was always because of you.

You two sat near the stage to support Taehyung with his play. You two remembered him sharing that their play was about a soulmate-driven world with much more darker consequences. It was about the fictional hanahaki disease, he said.

And boy did it feel so sad. Taehyung acted so well, as if he was really losing his character’s best friend onstage. Jungkook peered at you for a moment and saw your eyes glisten as Taehyung’s cries grew louder and louder.

The story was really heartbreaking.

To the point where Jungkook felt the familiar pang on his chest and the song began to play in his head.

How peculiar. His soulmate was sad just as Taehyung’s scene played out. Perhaps they were in the same auditorium as well. But that was impossible. His soulmate was probably watching some soap opera.

Not that he minded. Jungkook had other things to think about, especially how to comfort you as your tears flowed down from the actors’ amazing performance. As slick as he could, he draped an arm around you and let you rest your head on his shoulder. His heart was beating faster than he could comprehend. Even more so, when you scooted closer to him.

Fuck. You were cuddling. Oh my god. Jungkook is gonna die out of happiness.

He had to play it cool though. Jungkook ignored the warmth in his chest and face as he rubbed your arm in consolation. He was surprised you reacted well. Nothing prepared him for what happened next.

You were humming.

You were humming his song.

hOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT YOU WERE HUMMING HIS SONG.

You… were his soulmate.

Okay universe… Unfuck you, Jungkook guessed. Apparently the universe was on his side after all… All he had to do was somehow tell you…

Jungkook, his face now an uncontrollable red, nervously turned towards you and successfully got your undivided attention. God, he could die then and there. Gathering courage from glob knows where, he smiled and sang the first line of the song.

Universe might have been laughing at him for suddenly changing his views. Jungkook would’ve laughed at himself if he found out the double-back on his opinion. But this was you.

You and your cute nose scrunch, you and your adorable head tilt, you and your witty comebacks.

This was you.

Everything about you was perfect, and he couldn’t believe that the universe liked him enough to grace him with you as his soulmate.

何故こんなにも涙が溢れるの

[Naze, konna ni mo namida ga afureru no]

Your eyes widened as he sang the song that felt like home to the both of you.

ねぇ側にいてそして笑ってよ

[Nee, soba ni ite soshite waratte yo]

You joined in on the singing and everything just made sense. None of the leaving people in the auditorium mattered at the moment.

君のいない未来は色のない世界

[Kimi no inai mirai wa iro no nai sekai]

Jungkook was so happy. It seemed like the world was brighter than before.

モノクロで冷たい

[Monokuro de tsumetai]

He shouldn’t have doubted the universe’s plan. Everything was better with you.

見つめてる暗闇さえも so beautiful

[Mitsumeteru kurayami sae mo so beautiful]

You smiled shyly as your soft honey-like voice harmonized with him.

僕を信じてほしい

[Boku wo shinjite hoshii]

Jungkook’s smile grew wider, encasing your delicate hand in his.

まっすぐに君だけを見て

[Massugu ni kimi dake wo mite]

For once in his life, he was happy and it was better because he was happy with you.

どこにも行かないように

[Doko ni mo ikanai you ni]

You two shared a kiss that afternoon, on a Tuesday, at the university’s auditorium.

permanent taglist: @luvinseokjinnie @97faerie @amoreguk @bbyjoonies @borednia @tanumiki @taescake

[Extra]

Jungkook: Hey Taehyung! Congrats, that play was amazing

Taehyung: ...yeah… but why did you two make out when I died onstage?

You: ahahaha bye.

#bts x reader #bts #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #soulmate au #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #your eyes they tell

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tomhollandstrash · 3 years

Text

Spiderman the Matchmaker

Please enjoy this classic friends to lovers trope!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Artist!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2k

You grinned at Peter as he danced around your room wearing the ridiculous meowing cat sweater one of your relatives gave you for your birthday. The way he wiggled his hips and kept squeezing the cat’s nose to make it meow made your shoulders shake in laughter. Moments like these with Peter were your favorite. The way he looked so worry free made your heart soar. This care-free version of Peter is one you often found yourself missing these days.

“Pete, stop I’m going to pee my pants if you keep doing that,” You said through your laughter, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of your eye.

“I can’t, I’m enjoying this way too much,” Peter said, letting out a loud laugh as he set off the sweater’s obnoxious meowing again. “I just can’t believe they bought this for you,”

“It’s the thought that counts,” You said, feigning seriousness before breaking out into another fit of laughter. “Okay, okay I can’t even say that with a straight face. It is kind of a wild sweater choice,”

“You could say that,” Peter chuckled, out of breath from dancing.

He flopped down on the bed next to you and let out a sigh of contentment. You looked at him over your shoulder before looking back to the sketch in front of you, tilting your head as you examined it.

“What’re you working on?” Peter asked curiously as he sat up to look at your sketchbook over your shoulder.

You blushed slightly because of Peter’s close proximity. You would be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little attracted to Peter. Not only was he a fantastic friend, but he was more than easy on the eyes. The way his eyes would twinkle when he smiled and his messy brown curls made your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him.

“Oh, you know... It’s nothing much,” You said absentmindedly.

“Are you kidding? Y/N, you’re the best artist I know!” Peter gushed, pulling the sketchbook out of your hands despite your protests.

“Peter! I’m not done with that yet!” You tried to grab the book back from him to no avail. Peter was too good at blocking you. You bit your lip as you carefully watched him as he looked at the sketch.

“Well?” You asked tentatively, bringing Peter back to reality.

Lately, you’d been trying to practice more self-love. You decided to start by drawing a self-portrait. No better way to practice loving yourself than by drawing yourself.

“Y/N, it’s beautiful!” Peter said, looking at you with his heart stopping smile. “Can I have it?”

“What?” Your cheeks turned a deep crimson color as your eyes widened to an almost comical size.

Was Peter Parker calling you beautiful? You shook your head and looked everywhere except for at him, rubbing your arm shyly. He couldn’t have been meaning that he thought you were beautiful, he had to have just been talking about the drawing.

“Do you really want that?” You asked, looking at him holding the sketchbook.

He nodded enthusiastically, holding the sketch close to his chest. You could never quite figure out how to say no to him when he pulled out the puppy eyes. You sighed and nodded.

“Sure, you can have it,” You chuckled gently and put your hands out, gesturing for him to hand you your sketchbook.

“Will you sign it?” He handed you the book and crossed his legs. “I want to make sure I have it when you’re famous”

“Sure, Pete,” You smiled softly, taking your favorite teal pen out of your pencil bag. You opened the pen and put it to the paper, signing your name in the corner of the drawing. Tearing the sketch out of its place in the sketchbook, you turned to Peter. “Here ya go. One Y/N original,”

Peter took the sketch out of your hands, admiring the details of your face on the page.

“I love it. Thank you,” He smiled brightly.

It had been a few days since you’d seen Peter last. Something about him needing to help May out around the apartment, and needing to do some extra work for his internship. While you two would usually hang out after school and into the evening, you hadn’t been seeing each other as much lately. It wasn’t that Peter was pushing you away, it just seemed like he was busier than usual. You were happy that his internship was going well, and you always wanted to support him in everything that he did. He was your best friend, so you couldn’t help but miss him a little bit.

You wandered the winding path in the park before settling on a nice looking bench. A sigh left your lips as you let your bag drop into the spot next to you as you sat down. You pulled your sketchbook and pencils out of your bag. Shivering slightly as the cool autumn air brushed past you, you opened the book and started to draw. You weren’t sure at what point your brain decided to draw Peter, but when you looked down at the sketchpad, you blushed slightly. Were you really so hopelessly in love with Peter that now you were just drawing him without thinking about it? Apparently, so.

As the sky began to turn purple and the streetlights turned on, you packed up your things and began the walk home. You could have taken the subway, but you decided you could use the fresh air. Caught up in your thoughts, you yelped when someone tried to grab your bag from you.

“Hey! Let go!” You shouted, pulling on your bag with all your might.

You saw a flash of red and blue in the corner of your eye and suddenly, you found yourself on the ground with the contents of your bag strewn about the sidewalk.

“Ouch,” You pouted as you looked around. When you looked up you saw Spiderman.

“If I would’ve known they were going to let go like that, I would’ve tried to catch you,” Spiderman chuckled lightly and offered you his hand to help you off the ground.

“It’s okay,” You said and grabbed his hand, surprised at how effortlessly he helped you up. “Thanks for showing up, I’m not sure I would’ve made it out of here with my stuff if you hadn’t,”

“It’s my job,” He said. You swear you’ve heard his voice somewhere, but you weren’t sure where. It must’ve been on the news or something.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as he helped you pick up your things. You were about to grab your sketchbook when you noticed Spiderman looking at its pages.

“Oh! Um, I’ll take that, thanks for grabbing it,” You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, and gently took the book from him.

“You’re really good, you know,” He complimented. “Who’s that guy you’re drawing?”

“That’s Peter,” You smiled as you pulled your bag over your shoulder.

“He’s good looking,” Spiderman chuckled.

“He is,” You nodded and smiled, trying not to give too much away.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked.

“Uh, sure! I’d appreciate that,” You said and began walking toward your apartment.

The two of you walked quietly together for a bit before Spiderman broke the silence.

“So are you two together?” He inquired, nodding toward the sketchbook in your hands.

“No, we’re not,” You blushed deeply, looking at the ground.

“Why not?” He pressed.

“I mean, he’s my best friend. And as far as I can tell, he’s not really interested in me like that,” You explained, glancing in Spiderman’s direction.

“I mean, you never know, he totally could be. Are you interested in him like that?”

You sighed and looked back at your feet, the ground suddenly the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. Were you really about to confess your feelings for Peter to Spiderman? You weighed your options before deciding there was no harm in it. What were the odds that you’d see Spiderman again? Besides, it’s not like he would tell Peter how you felt.

“Yeah, I mean, Peter’s wonderful. He’s so sweet and fun to be around. Not to mention extremely cute,” You said, pausing for a moment. “I mean, I didn’t mean to fall for him. It’s kind of typical right? Falling for your best friend,”

Spiderman went silent for a moment, almost like he was thinking. You looked over to him, worried that perhaps you’d shared too much.

“Sorry, maybe that was too much,” You added.

“N-no! Not at all!” He said, sounding somewhat surprised. “I was just thinking. If I were Peter, I would want you to talk to me about it, and I’d honestly probably feel the same way,”

You were going to respond, but saw your apartment building coming into view.

“Thanks for walking me home!” You said before quickly slipping into your apartment building.

Spiderman had given you a lot to think about.

“Hey, y/n. What’s going on?” Peter said, slightly breathless.

In the past week, you couldn’t stop thinking about Spiderman’s words. You decided you would talk to Peter and you would tell him how you felt. Peter was one of your best friends, and you didn’t think he’d make it weird if he didn’t feel the same way. So, you called Peter and asked him to come over one afternoon, hoping he was free.

“Can we go to the roof?” You asked, pointing toward the fire escape.

“Sure!” He chirped, leading the way to the roof.

The whole way up your heart was pounding. You were nervous but feeling somewhat hopeful. Although you weren’t sure if he would feel the same way, you wanted to believe that he did.

You shoved your hands deep into your pockets and looked at Peter.

“So, I asked you to come over because I have to tell you something,” You began.

Peter’s ear perked up, his heart racing. He had to try to keep the smile that was forming. Peter had been thinking about the night he, well- Spiderman, walked you home. He’d been in love with you for the longest time. The way you lit up the room, your incredible skills as an artist, how kind you were to those around you, the list of things he loved about you could go on forever. You were everything to him, and he was just hoping that you would feel the same way too.

“I don’t know how to say it, so I guess I’ll just do it...” You took a deep breath and shut your eyes tightly. “IreallylikeyoualotIthinkyou’rereallywonderfulandIthinkImightbeinlovewithyou”

You opened one of your eyes to gage Peter’s reaction, shoulders relaxing when you saw him chuckling.

“Peter,” You whined, covering your face with both of your hands. “I shouldn’t have said anything,”

“Y/n,” Peter said, walking over to you and taking your hands away from your face. “I love you too,”

“You do?” You blinked a few times, finally having the courage to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve been in love with you since the day you accidentally broke my bike,” He said, placing a warm hand on your cheek.

“Did I mention that I’m really sorry about that?” You chuckled, cringing at the memory.

“Yes,” He laughed, his eyes crinkling in the most adorable way.

The two of you stood there on the roof looking into each other’s eyes, feeling so much joy and love.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Peter didn’t say anything, instead pressing his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. You sighed happily into the kiss, happy that you decided to tell him how you felt. You could have never imagined that Peter felt the same way about you. When the two of you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a smile on his lips.

“I love you,” He said again, grinning ear to ear.

“I love you too, Peter,” You said going in for another kiss.

The night went on sharing sweet kisses and warm embraces. You were so grateful for the night that Spiderman walked you home. You’d have to remember to thank him. Peter would eventually tell you that he was Spiderman, but that was a confession for another day.

#Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x Reader #Peter Parker reader insert #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #peter parker x y/n

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valkyriesryde · 4 years

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Release the Hounds {6/?}

Chapter Six: Am I Supposed to Fight?

Pairing: Persephone!Steve Rogers x Hades!Reader

Chapter Summary: Both sides are preparing but the question of whether they will actually have to fight is still standing. And everyone has an opinion.

Word Count: ...2,000ish lol

A/N: Sooooo I’m a slack human being but I’m not giving up on this story! Just have a bit of a busy life at the moment hahah here you go fambam please forgive me. I’m going to try and smash out several chapters in the next week before I go on holiday/school starts back up.

Series Masterlist ~ Masterlist

As Hades stepped into the home of her brother she slipped off her coat and threw it over the back of the couch in the first living room.

“Where art thou my dear brother?” She called through the house and a sweet whistle sounded down the stairs and around her. She dressed and presented herself much more casual than when she met with Thor. She no longer adorned her business attire, dressed in black jeans and a loose t-shirt. Her boots hitting the marble as she climbed the stairs.

Loki’s house is extravagant. The outside something like a greek temple with its decorated ionic columns and statues. The inside much the same in its sense of power. But Loki likes to be comfortable. His home has a, well, homely feel to it. Art adorns every wall, in every corner but the blanket is thrown lazily over the couch, there’s a pile of books on the coffee table and as she walks down the hallway she can smell the sea salt as if they were right next to the ocean. She can hear the horses in his backyard through the open windows. Hades always enjoyed coming to Loki’s home because thats what it was. A home. It wasn’t a place of work, apart from his office, his children come and go as they please, there’s always dishes to be washed and laundry to be folded. She felt welcomed here.

“Since when do you work this late?” She leaned on the doorframe of his office as Loki looked up from his piles of paper, his long black hair disheveled from running his fingers through it.

“I’m a very hard worker excuse you,” he smiled and offered her the seat in front of his desk, reaching into a draw next to him and bringing out two glasses and a bottle of nectar in a beautifully adorned glass bottle. Hades’ eyes lingered on the bottle as she ached for him to just hand the thing to her so she could pour it down her throat. Lord she needed a drink after this week.

“And I’m beloved by all,” her voice was sarcastic and she drooled as he handed her the glass and raised his eyebrows.

“By me especially,” he winked. Loki, forever the cheeky bastard.

“My biggest supporter,” she smiled and they clinked their glasses.

Loki looked back down at his work, his forehead crinkled and his lip pulled between his teeth, she had an inkling to rip out the paper from under him but knew better to disturb him while he thought. It could be important afterall.

So instead her eyes wandered, they moved to the ceiling tall bookcase to his right, spotting some of her favourites amongst his collection. She stood and walked towards the giant fish tank he had to his left and peered in, watching the exotic fish minding their business.

“Why can’t people be more like you,” she muttered under her breath and the red and blue fish with a tail that looked like it belonged to a feather dancer stared blankly back at her.

“They don’t like being stared at,” Loki chimed from his desk, his attention still on his papers. She sighed and fell back into the seat.

“Perhaps if you joined me for dinner and a drink or two I wouldn’t. Why are you working, work is off limits on our nights.” She was getting agitated, her entire week had been filled with work, forgetting about the normal stuff, the addition of the council and that damn god of spring was starting to give her a headache. “I’m sick of work! I just want a night off, please Loki.”

“Well I’m sick of you being treated poorly by assholes who think they’re better.” His voice was stern and she leaned back for a second in shock at it. Loki was not often passionate about things. Unless someone had spoken poorly against him or, in Odysseus’ case injured his son and was just a “lying good for nothing asshole!” Loki fought when it was his reputation on the line, but this, this was different, the last time Hades had seen Loki fight for someone other than himself was when he went by Poseidon and they fought side by side with Thor, then Zeus, against their father. Hades prayed a war would not come of this strife that was forming between the Olympians.

“Thor told me what you’re doing, why didn’t you come to me about this? I would have told y-“

“You would have told me to stop, that it’s for nothing but I’m sorry to say Hades, you’re wrong.”

Steve had his nose buried in his notebook while his mother went on about her campaign to “keep that wicked witch of the Underworld from getting her death grip on the council.” He sketched out the cornucopia from the gates, the flowers that had adorned it. The pages were covered in those sketches, one of her crown, how it was burned into his memory but he didn’t dare draw her face. Currently his pencil shaded a hand, with a vine twisted around it, the thorns piercing its skin and Steve couldn’t help but feel the prickle of the thorns in his own hand.

“Steve!” He jumped at the sound of his mother’s voice. The book slammed shut and he slid into his pocket as she dropped a clipboard into his hands. “Go around the council’s homes, get their signature. Thor needs proof that we will not stand for her to sit with us. We must band together in a time like this. I have no doubt the olympians will agree.” He dropped the clipboard onto the table and shook his head. She paid no attention to him, instead continuing her work as she wrote notes for the debate. “Sing your name too, we can’t forget about ourselves.”

He picked up the clipboard and walked out the door making his way out of the house towards Bucky’s home first.

Bucky’s house always confused Steve, the interior and furniture changed every couple millennia but the outside, the general idea of it was always the same and it was never extravagant. Most homes in Olympus didn’t change much, they just added things to keep up with the times. Bucky’s home was basically a shack. A cabin in the woods. A beach house with the lake view to match. Made of dark wood with a porch that stretched around the entire front of the house. Bucky’s home was one that matched its owner in its entirety. Bucky was a relaxed man, he took things as they came and he was never very serious. It was one of the reasons Steve enjoyed his company so much because when his mother was up his ass or his work was being exceptionally hard Bucky was there with a pat on the back and a drink in his hand inviting him to watch the sunset over the water.

They were best friends, could always count on one another no matter what, Steve knew that Bucky had his back always, and so he knew now that no matter how much Bucky disapproved of the situation he would still back Steve.

“You’re mother is going to kill you.” Bucky sat leaning on his knees on the couch, his beer long forgotten about on the coffee table as he held the clipboard in one hand shaking his head at Steve.

“Pretty sure she always kind of wants to kill me.”

“Never. You’re her special little boy, her one perfect creation,” Bucky cocked a smile at his friend who rolled his eyes back.

“Shut up,” Steve leaned back and sipped at his own beer, watching it spin in his hands. It was a solid plan, if he went to the right people it would work, he could go behind his mother and her campaign and plead Hades’ case. Maybe even talk to Loki, though he wasn’t sure if Loki would believe him. He wasn’t overly sure if anyone would believe him.

“You already know I’m on your side Steve. I know Hades, I remember the last time she sat on the council. She’s smart, she has the knowledge and the authority, she deserves to be there, but the younger gods, the once who have forgotten what she did, the ones that have never worked with her. They don’t know. They eat out of Demeter’s hands with all her bullshit about satan and how we ‘don’t need the dead in the business of the living’,” Bucky mocked Demeter, he was never afraid to do that in front of Steve, at first he felt slightly weird about it, like his mother would know if he ever spoke a bad word about her but he soon realised the Bucky was safe, he could be himself and say what he wanted without consequences, well, with little consequences.

Steve thought about what Bucky had said, he knew that Bucky would be on his side, Bucky had never not shown support for Hades herself, just, ya know, the stupid shit Steve did in Hades…

But something stayed with Steve. ‘the ones that have never worked with her’, had Bucky worked with Hades? When would Bucky have to work with her? Bucky worked with the sun, he worked with prophecies and medicine, none of which concerned the dead.

“Start with Becca, she and I are one of the same, Pallas-Nat, she’ll be on your side too, I know she’s already talked to Loki about it. That’s who you should go to after, to him, if he knows, if he has confirmation from Nat, I know they hate each other because of Athens and Odysseus but he trusts her word, he trusts that she’ll choose the winning side.” Bucky went on and on about who Steve should see, who he knew that would be on his side.

He listened intently, took note and made a plan of what he should say to each. To Becca, goddess of the hunt, the best way was to talk to her about Bucky, they always fought side by side. To Natasha, goddess of wisdom, it was going to be harder. But if Bucky was right then she already agreed with Steve, they just needed to join forces.

Hades,

I don’t know when you’ll get this, I plan on giving it to Peter to pass on, I know I can trust him to get this to you safely. There’s five days before the council debates and I thought you would appreciate an update as to what is happening in Olympus.

I imagine you have your own ways, maybe spies, Loki has probably discussed matters with you also. He said he had told you he would fight whether you liked it or not, how you told him that he was stubborn. You said I was stubborn as well, I guess I am, but I can’t help fighting for what I believe in. I believe in you. I believe that you should have a say and so do many of the others, Loki, Becca, Natasha, and Jane all agree with me. I think we actually have a shot but Loki thinks it will take your appearance to convince Thor and the lesser gods and nymphs that will be present.

I hope to see you there, please.

Yours,

Steve

Hades and Sam sat side by side on the balcony that overlooked the gates. They watched as night engulfed them and there was an eery silence between the two. A fresh argument still sitting between them, two sides of the same fight.

Hades’ mind was fighting with itself, her guard was being torn down brick by brick as Loki and Steve tried to convince her to stand before the twelve Olympians. But Sam wasn’t a fan of the idea.

“What if it’s a trap,” he argued, “we don’t know what Demeter has up her sleeve,” he said, “we don’t need them!” He raised his voice and she let him get it all out.

“Are you finished yet?” She brushed her hand over her dress and looked at him as Sam nodded. “You’re right.”

Sam was shocked at what she said, he expected her to rationalise her reasons, he expected her to tell him to mind his own business, to tell him that she would stand up for the Underworld. But she didn’t.

“I’m what now?”

“You’re right Sam. Everything about this is stupid. The living and the dead shouldn’t be mixed, bad things happen, bad things like husbands wanting to resurrect their wives, like people thinking they can make deals in order to mess with what is natural. They don’t respect us or what we do here, you’re right, it could be a trap. Demeter will make it a living hell for myself and the rest of you here if she can. You’re right, we don’t need them, we run things differently here, our systems aren’t the same.”

“Then what…” Sam looked at Hades in awe, there was fire in her eyes and he knew that look, she was sick of being undermined, she was angry, she was determined and if he knew her as well as he thought he did he knew what that look meant. She had a plan. “Then why are you considering it?”

“Because they need us.”

Chapter Seven: Here Comes Trouble

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#release the hounds #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers au #greeks myth au #persephone!steve rogers x hades!reader

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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Catch and Release - 5

Catch and Release: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 3289

Rating: E

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo - Steve's Apartment

Warnings: Smut (MMF, oral and vaginal sex, overstimulation)

Synopsis: When you overexert yourself on a mission with Steve and Bucky, the boys admit to having fantasies that involve you. Fantasies that you share. But with one Super Soldier needs intimacy and the other is still dealing with being touch starved, exploring those desires without anyone catching feelings is a little tricky.

Chapter 5: Lying in Wait

You knocked on the door to the apartment that Steve and Bucky shared. They'd asked you around for dinner, which meant dinner and experimenting with their sexuality, and you were more than a little excited. The dice game had gone over really well and for a couple of days after they would each come and tell you about what parts they liked the most. You knew that they’d want to take it further and try more things. Especially given Steve hadn’t technically gone ‘all the way’ with you.

You were very excited too. This whole thing had not at all been what you’d expected. The whole idea of a down and dirty three-way that was all about sex and just getting that release at the hands of the two super soldiers was definitely one that you’d visited alone a lot of times. Somehow this was even better. Steve and Bucky were such good friends, and this arrangement you’d come to was both exciting and safe all at once. They might be finding out more about themselves, but this was your opportunity to find out more about yourself too.

Steve answered and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek. It was funny really, you’d seen him on and off all day, but that was Cap. Steve was a whole different person in a lot of ways and so even though you’d only seen him half an hour ago, this was the first time you were seeing him all day. “Come in,” he said as he held the door open for you.

“I bought wine.” You said holding up the bottle of merlot you’d ‘stolen’ from Tony’s cellar.

“Trying to get us drunk are you?” He asked taking it from you.

You chuckled and followed through the apartment to the table. Their place was a weird mix of old and new. There was a blue velvet wingback couch sitting next to a black leather recliner that had speakers in the headrest. An old cabinet style record player sat next to a large flat-screen TV and had a PS4 sitting on top of it. A set of nesting tables sat in front of the couch and each one was littered with art supplies and Steve’s shield was propped up against the couch.

The walls were decorated with artwork of vintage motorcycles and photos of family and friends. One entire wall was boxed shelving, and each shell was full of books and vinyls. There was no clear theme to any of it. A boxed set of Harry Potter novels sat next to books on military tactics. The Wizard of Oz series was there in its entirety but each volume was sitting on a different shelf. The Wizard of Oz was next to a book on guided meditation. Ozma of Oz was beside some vintage Captain America comic books.

Bucky was in the kitchen cooking. He had his hair pulled back and a floral apron on. The kitchen itself was quite modern and clean compared to the living room. The benchtops were black granite and the fittings were all brushed chrome. Bucky smiled when he saw you and came over and kissed your cheek. “Everything is nearly ready.” He said.

“It smells so good,” you said. “And you look amazing.”

He pinched your hip and went back to his cooking. “Steve, did you put your shit away?”

“Yes,” Steve lied, going straight to the coffee tables and bundling up the art supplies.

“That means your shield too,” Bucky said.

“It’s away,” Steve said. He shoved the drawings and pencils into one of the gaps on the bookshelf before grabbing his shield and shoving it into the hall cupboard.

You chuckled and took down some wine glasses. “It doesn’t matter how much time has passed, I will never get over the fact that he’s the messy one.”

“He’s always been the messy one,” Bucky said. “Drives me crazy.”

“Can I help at all?” You asked as you poured out three glasses.

“There’s a salad in the fridge. You think you can take it out to the table?”

The table was already partially set. The plates and silverware were out, as was a loaf of crusty bread. You took the salad out and by the time you were sitting with Steve and taking your first sip from your wine glass Bucky was bringing out a serving platter piled high with risotto.

“So,” you said, as you all started filling your plates. “What shall we do tonight?”

“Oh, uh…” Steve said, almost dropping his fork. “We thought dinner and if you wanted we could watch a movie…”

“Really? That’s what you want to do?” You teased.

“He’s being polite because he doesn’t want you to feel pressured to do anything,” Bucky said.

“Oh, I know.” You said playfully, putting your hand on Steve’s.

“I just want to make sure you know that your friendship is important to me too,” Steve said, giving your hand a squeeze. “I don’t want to put the sex above that.”

Bucky smiled and leaned over the table and kissed him. Not that you could blame him. You could practically feel your heart swell up. When Bucky sat back in his chair, Steve looked a little love-struck himself.

“Then we should hang out as friends sometime,” you said as everyone started eating. “Like we used to. But I am wearing really expensive lingerie and I’d really like to show you it.”

“And I would definitely like to see it,” Bucky said.

“We were talking about just…” Steve stopped mid-sentence and froze like he had forgotten the word he was looking for. “You know… normal.”

You and Bucky looked at each other and bit back laughter. “Ah yes, normal threesome style, Stevie. Just the way everyone who has threesomes does it.”

Steve looked at Bucky deadpan. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, yeah. I do ‘cause we talked about it before.” Bucky teased. “What he means is because part of this is him getting to do some things he hasn’t done before, we’d like to focus on you and it just be…”

“... vanilla guy on girl sex.” You finished.

“That’s the one,” Bucky said tapping his forehead.

“Gonna run the train,” you said and took a sip of your wine. “Nice.”

“Is that okay?” Steve asked.

“More than.” You said. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything,” Steve answered.

“And just to be clear here, I’m talking to Cap. Not Steve.” You added.

“Oh,” Steve said, his posture stiffening. “What is it?”

“No,” Bucky groaned. “Don’t invoke the Captain in here.”

“Just for a second. I promise.” You said. “What happens if the others find out about what we’re doing?”

Steve’s jaw tensed and twitched at the corners as he thought. “I don’t think we should go around bragging about it,” he said. “But this is our personal business We aren’t breaking any rules. If the find out, they find out.”

“Besides, if Tasha doesn’t already suspect, then I don’t think that’s Natasha and we better find out where the real Natasha is,” Bucky added.

You laughed and nodded. “True. You know if Tony finds out he’s going to give you hell for it.”

“What’s new?” Steve said with a small shrug. “Besides, like he can talk.”

“Also valid.” You said. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure. I agree. I don’t want to go telling … well anyone, but like Bucky said, Nat figures this shit out, and I don’t want to be lying to our friends.”

Steve reached over and rubbed your arm. “I would never ask you to do that. You aren’t our dirty little secret. You’re our friend.”

“God, Steve. Saying all the right things tonight. I’m gonna fuck your brains out.” You said.

“And I’ve got second,” Bucky added, reaching over and taking Steve’s hand.

The three of you finished up dinner and cleaned up together. Steve had been right. The three of you needed to nurture the friendship too. This was how this started after all.

When the kitchen was practically sparkling Steve came up behind Bucky and wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his neck. Bucky closed his eyes and hummed softly. He held out his hand to you and you took it and let him pull you into his arms.

His eyes opened and he blinked slowly, as he gazed down at you. “Ready, darlin’?”

You smiled up at him as Steve’s arm snaked around you and he pressed his large hand to the middle of your back. “As I’ll ever be.”

Bucky leaned in and ghosted his lips over yours. You reached up and tangled your hands in his hair and pulled him into a hungry kiss. Steve kissed and nipped at Bucky’s throat as the two of you kissed and pulled you a little tighter against Bucky. You could feel Bucky start to harden against you and you pulled back with a quiet gasp.

“Bedroom?” He asked.

“Bedroom.” You agreed and Bucky put an arm around each of you and the three of you made your way down to the bedroom.

The room was painted sage, with gray trim. The floor to ceiling windows on the far side looked out over the East River and beyond that, Brooklyn. There were more shelves against one wall, though they mostly held little knick-knacks. Things like a signed baseball, a Build-a-Bear dressed as Captain America, and model spaceships - the kind you built yourself. Next to it was an antique drafting table with more art supplies and sketches littering it. There were framed prints on the one bare wall above the bed, each one held different black and white photographs of the New York skyline over the years.

The bed was a king and had been made. A crocheted quilt in dark red and white lay folded in half at the foot over the gunmetal quilt. The bedside table on the left was clean and neat with a digital alarm clock, a dock for a Stark phone a worn copy of Dune. There was also a basket with condoms and lube, the same as you had set up when they’d come to your place. You wondered if he’d decided to steal the idea from you. You couldn’t imagine that they were still using protection like that with each other. The bedside table on the right was a mess of water bottles, notebooks, dog eared novels, colognes, and random scraps of paper.

You looked around as you unzipped your dress. Bucky and Steve began to undress too. “I’ve never seen your room before.”

“So many firsts tonight,” Bucky said playfully.

“Your bed is big enough to fit us three and Thor too.” You said dropping your dress and revealing the black lace push up bra and thong you were wearing.

The two men looked you over like hungry wolves. “Two super soldiers not enough for you,” Bucky teased, stalking over to you and hooking his arm around your waist. “You gotta include a god too?”

“Hey, I’ve been single for ages. Let me have my fantasies.” You joked, as he pulled you to him and lifted you, carrying you to the bed and dropping you on the mattress.

You lay back and arched your back as both Steve and Bucky crawled up with you. Both had taken their shirts and shoes off, but while Steve was down to his boxers, Bucky was still in his jeans. “You’re giving us ours, if you want to share yours with us, we’ll see what we can do.” Steve rumbled as he kissed your neck and collarbone. His hand ran down between your breasts and over your stomach, making your skin break out in goosebumps.

Bucky kissed the other side of your neck and tangled his hand in your hair. “Threesomes are the most common fantasy you know?” You half moaned. “And they’re more common to have the older you get.”

“How do you know this stuff?” Steve asked as he moved his hand to your cunt and he slowly began to palm it.

You moaned pushing up against his hand. “It was in a documentary. You guys are over a hundred. So bringing Thor in would be good for you.”

Steve snorted while Bucky broke down laughing. “We’ll keep that in mind, dork.” Bucky teased and kissed you.

As you kissed, Steve kissed lower. He paused at your breasts and sucked and bit at your nipples through your bra. You reached behind you and unhooked it Steve slid it down and pulled your nipple into his mouth. Bucky joined him at your other breast and they both sucked and bit your breasts as Steve’s hand slipped into your panties and he started to finger your clit. You moaned and squeezed your legs around his hand as you writhed under them.

Steve moved down lower, pushing your legs apart and pulling your panties down. He nuzzled at your cunt and flattened his tongue running it up your folds. You put your feet on his shoulders and pushed your hips up into his mouth. Bucky’s hand caressed your throat as he continued to suck and bite at your beasts.

The sounds you made got louder and louder as Steve became more and more focused. You could tell he hadn’t done this before, but the way he moved was almost like watching him in the field. He’d stop and cock his head to the side while his tongue flicked over your clit or his fingers moved inside of you, when you moaned just the way he wanted, he’d focus on what he’d just done.

As they brought your apart with just their hands and mouths, they kept touching each other too. Stroking each other’s backs or legs. While you moaned and bucked, your orgasm right there on the brink, they held hands.

Steve corkscrewed his wrist and sucked hard on your clit and you came, arching hard up off the mattress and crying out. “Fuck, yes!”

Steve sat up, a proud little smile on his glistening lips. Bucky got up on his knees and kissed him hungrily. You wrapped your legs around Steve and began to grind against his erection as you unfastened Bucky’s jeans. Bucky pushed Steve’s boxers down and began to stroke his cock and Steve groaned into Bucky’s lips, his cock jumping in Bucky’s hand and leaking precum onto your pussy as you rubbed against him.

Bucky broke the kiss and began to nuzzle at Steve’s neck. “You gonna fuck her, Stevie?” He whispered.

Steve groaned and grabbed your thighs. “Yeah, Buck. I want to.”

“She’s so wet and warm, Steve,” Bucky whispered as he grabbed a condom. “You’re gonna really like it.”

Steve closed his eyes and caressed his fingers over your stomach and cunt. You reached up and cradled his jaw as Bucky rolled the condom down over his shaft. Steve looked down at you, his blue eyes blown out with lust. With a snap of his hips, he sunk deep into you.

You both gasped and you arched back as he lifted your hips up to him. Bucky kissed Steve again before leaning down and sucking on your breasts against. His metal fingers went to your clit and rubbed it as Steve started to slowly rut his hips against you, each thrust accompanied by a roll, so it felt like he was touching every part of you.

You felt like a live wire. All your nerves were raw and stimulated as they made you the center of attention. Steve fucked you slow and deep, filling you completely. You gripped his wrists and rolled your hips with him. Pleasure swirled through, starting in your breasts and cunt and meeting in your core. It pressed down on you and radiated out until it was all you knew and all you wanted to know. Your core clenched and you came hard, bucking up under them.

Steve was far from close though. He picked up his pace, fucking you harder and a little more erratically. Bucky began to massage the base of his cock and balls while his thumb rubbed your clit. He switched from one breast to the next, keeping you right on the edge as Steve fucked you.

Steve’s eyes stayed locked with yours and his jaw tensed. You jerked up suddenly as another orgasm tore through you, and with a hard snap of his hips, he came.

Bucky sat back as you relaxed down panting and Steve slipped from within you. “How’re you doing there, darlin’?” He asked as he ran his hands up Steve’s chest.

Steve kissed Bucky’s neck and got up, removing his condom and tossing it out. “Really good, Buck,” you hummed. “You gonna fuck me?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Bucky replied, grabbing one of the condoms and sheathing himself. You sat up and stretched a little and Bucky sat opposite you. You climbed into his lap and lowered yourself down onto his cock. As you began to bounce on his cock Steve moved up behind you and sat with his legs on either side of you and Bucky. He kissed your neck and ran his hands over the two of you. Caressing skin. Pinching nipples. He rubbed your clit and massaged Bucky’s base.

You and Bucky kissed as you moved as one. Your lips moved from lips to neck and back again and the sounds of your moans combined with each other’s and filled the room.

Sweat began to bead your skin as heat flowed through your veins, burning you up from the inside out. Steve hardened against your back as you moved. You began to feel fuzzy and high. Steve’s fingers worked your clit as you bounced faster and faster. It wasn’t long before you came again, and Bucky broke the kiss with a strained groan, gritting his teeth as he tried not to be dragged along with you. It was no use though, his hips jerked and he came just after you.

You stayed joined, slowly rolling your hips as his cock emptied. Steve ghosted his lips up the side of your neck and nipped at your earlobe. “You up for more?” He said in a soft growl.

“Mmm… I could go again.” You hummed.

Three and a half hours the three of you spent switching from one to the other, the only break you got was to rehydrate. By the time you called defeat you wondered if you were ever going to learn your lesson about trying to keep up with the two super soldiers.

You lay panting on the mattress as Bucky and Steve both lay back, the sweat running down their chests in rivulets. You cunt ached and your legs felt weak. You had a vague feeling like you should get up and pee. Get dressed. Go home. You didn’t think you’d even be able to get up. You could barely even think straight. It was all soft-focused.

You struggled up too sitting and blinked around the room.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” Steve asked, putting his hand on your hip.

“Gotta go home,” you mumbled.

“You’re exhausted. Just stay.” Steve reassured you.

“Yeah, darlin’, you liked cuddling with us when we were camping,” Bucky added.

“If I sleepover, then they’ll know.” You tried to reason.

Steve sat up and kissed your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist. “So they know. We’re adults, we can do what we want. Now lie down, you’re exhausted.”

You let yourself collapse back down, unable to think of one possible argument. They both wrapped you in their arms and you were asleep before the blanket was even pulled over you.

// NEXT

#SSB2020 #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #catch and release #lying in wait

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awkbo0b · 4 years

Text

Two of a Kind:1

A/N: Hey everyone, I finished Outer Banks on Netflix about a week ago and I fell in love with the Pogues. Mainly JJ. So I after reading some of there really creative writing about JJ x Reader i came across an idea for my own spin off story. the girl in the story will be named Mae Clemonds, this helps my flow with writing. Also this chapter is going to be a bit boring since i need to introduce my characters and give background on them, but once this passes it should be better and will have much more of JJ and the rest of the Pogues!

Now imagine JJ meeting a girl who is so much like him he can hardly stand her, and same goes to the girl. Can you already feel the sexual tension?

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking

As I pack my third suitcase that i have strictly made for my art supplies, I hear a knock at my door. “Hey, Mae, how is it going in here?” I turn to see my mom standing in the doorway, she has dry clay smeared across her forehead, as usual, and her curly ginger hair is somehow managed into a bun on top of her head.

“Oh you know, it’s going. Got all my water colors here,” I say as i point to them in my suit case, “and my notebooks here, and all my brushes, pencils, and pens are in the pocket.” I smile as i close the suit case and zip it up. “Now I am all set.” I glance at the other two large suitcases that are full of clothes and bathroom necessities, then up to meet my mom’s bright blue eyes. “How about you and dad?”

Mom returns a smile, “Good, your farther finished packing this morning and we just finished the piece as planed. Once I am washed up we will be ready in about thirty minutes, go ahead and load these into the car.” she responded as she pushed herself away from the door frame and began to turn away from the room. “It’s going to be a great summer, I can feel it!” mom adds as she gracefully moves down the hallway, throwing her hands in balled fist above her head as if she just won something.

A couple months ago my aunt Sadie called my mom and dad offering a once in a life time opportunity. Something that you should know about my family is that we are artist, all of us. My great grandma Allison was the one who started the line of artist. She was an amazing painter, oil was her favorite but you could give her mustard and she would still create art. Her and my great grandpa Clemonds opened up their own gallery, and it has been passed down through the generations. The artistic touch also ran through the family. Not all of us are painters, some are photographers, and others are sculptors like my mom and dad. I like to draw/sketch and use water colors. But no matter what their choice of media is, my family creates art and adds it to the gallery. The Clemonds family is widely well known in the art community.

So back to the once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity that my Aunt Sadie called my mom about a couple months ago, is the chance for them to create a series together.

About two years ago my Aunt Sadie and her family moved to the coast of North Carolina for a new scenery for their photography. Living in Chicago does give you a lot to work with but my Aunt needed something with more green and less buildings. This move included my cousin Tony, who also happens to be my best friend.

Tony said that where she lives is called Outer Banks and the elite class of the area are a different level of filthy rich. Nose up in the air, refuse to look at anyone who makes anything less that six figures a year level of filthy rich. And these people did their research on my cousin’s family the second they moved in down the street and instantly started asking for personalized art they could buy.

My Aunt agreed to set up her own business to start selling her art there without the ties of the family gallery back at home, and then one day she came up with a great idea. She wanted my mom and dad to come to North Carolina and to work with her. Neither me or Tony know what our parents had in mind but after two years I’m going to see my best friend, and the plane leaves in 2 hours.

The drive from the airport to Tony’s house felt hours, I am so excited to see her. We facetime every day but it’s not the same and seeing each other in person. Once the rental car pulls into the long driveway leading up to one of the biggest houses I have every seen, I see Tony running down the porch. Her long, wavy, blonde hair flying behind her with the biggest smile on her face.

“Dad, can you just stop right here for me, so I can get out?” I almost whine, just as happy to see Tony and as she is to see me. Dad chuckles and bring the car to a stop long enough for me to hop out.

Tony and I clash together in a clumsy hug. “Oh God Mae, I’ve missed you!” Tony squeals, hugging me a little tighter.

“Same here, dude,” I pull away to look at her face, to see she is crying. Tony and I are so different in so many ways. She is that cute soft girl who wears skirts, always her hair done, and is emotional. Where as with me and my dark brunette hair, I like to wear worn down t shirts and shoes with denim shorts that are frayed at the end. I speak everything that comes to mind, down for almost anything, and communicating emotions is my weakness.”Lets get my shit inside so you can show me around.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and we make our way to the parked car to unpack.

After unpacking Tony told me about a ‘kegger’ that was going to go down near the beach called the boneyard.

“Fuck yeah, lets do it!” I say in a loud whisper so her parents didn’t hear.

Tony laughs, “just to remind you though, remember when I told you about the rival between kooks and pogues?”

“Um, yeah vaguely, why?”

“Well I live in figure eight which is technically kook territory so when going to this party to avoid any drama we should probably stick with the kooks.” Tony’s voice got quieter at the end of that sentence. She knows when she tries to give me advice I typically tend to ignore it and cause issues.

“Well,” I begin, plopping myself onto her bed, “I guess I can try, but if I remember correctly, the kooks are the one who are in the wrong most of the time?” My parents (Tony’s parents too) raised me to not see someone as a social class, judge them on how they treat you not by how much money they have.

“Yeah, normally they talk down on the pouges because they are from much less but,-”

“But that’s not cool Tony, we both know this.” I cut her off a little more harshly than intended.

“But,” Tony’s tone is desperate for me to hear her out,”I had a lot of troubles making friends and fitting in when I first came here two years ago. And I’m just starting to not be the weird new girl who sits in the art studio all day.” Tony sits down next me. “I’m not asking you to be rude or to look down on people, just to help me keep some of the friends I have finally made here.”

I let out a long sigh, “I’ll do my best.” Tony jumped from the bed and did a little victory dance, she only did this when she got her way with me. “Well, lets start getting ready.” Tony laughs as she start going my clothes to help me find something to wear.

As we walked down a sandy pathway through the trees, a bonfire came into view, along with a large group of people around the ages of 16 to 19. The sight of the fire inspired an idea of a drawing that I will probably start tomorrow. “where should we place our cooler?” I asked Tony.

“Looks like everyone is placing theirs over by that tree, most of the time its help yourself at these things so don’t become alarmed if you see someone getting into our cooler.” Tony shakes her finger at me knowing that I wouldn’t hesitate to confront anyone. I raise my hands up in surrender.

“I’m on my best behavior tonight.” I gave my best smile, causing Tony to giggle. “Now lets start the night off right.” Once we got our cooler placed we opened it and took out a sandwich bag that contained two limes, and our small bottle of tequila. It’s tradition for us to start our nights drinking with a shot together. Once the first shot is down we drink what we want. “Cheers,” I say then take a chug from the bottle and hand it to Tony as I bite my lime, and she does the same. Then we place the tequila back and grab ourselves a beer and walk towards the crowd of people.

Tony introduces me to a couple people she has become friends with in the last school year. They all seem nice but the entitlement that radiates off of them is insane. “So, you guys are from the same family, right?” asked one of the boys who i didn’t bother to remember his name.

“I mean, that’s what cousins normally means, right?” My tone came out harsh and Tony bumped me with her hip to remind me to play nice. The guy rolled his eyes in annoyance, causing me to raise an eyebrow. “If you don’t want a sarcastic answer don’t asked a stupid question.” I finished my beer in one big gulp.

“I was just making sure because you don’t seem to be the one who lives a life like Tony’s,” I feel Tony put her arm around my shoulder to try and calm me down, but the smug express the guy had on his face pushed me over the edge.

“Oh? Because how I look really defines my social class, right?”

“Hey, we are going to take a walk.” Tony steps between me and the guy, “Enjoy your night.” she says over her should as tony pulls me from the group.

Tony and I walk toward the coolers so I can get another beer. “can’t beleive that dick head.” I utter under my breath. Tony begins to giggle, she knows there is no point in trying to lecture me, because in the end we both know I was in the right. “Seriously Tony, I’m sorry you have to be around people like that.”

“Yeah kooks are no fun,” I turn to see a blonde guy with a red baseball cap going through coolers to find a beer of his choosing. “But at least they bring good beer.” The blonde is dressed in cargo shorts and a stretched out tank top, not khakis and polo shirts like the guys Tony had just introduced you too. I notice him make his way to our cooler. He pulled out a beer, shut the lid and used it as a seat to look at you and Tony.

“Hey, lets go back to the fire, we can get a beer in a minute.” Tony’s giggling has stopped and now she’s grabbing my arm trying to pull me away.

“Ah come on princess kook, no need to be scared.” The smirk on the guys face sent excitement through me.

“Mae,” Tony started but I cut her off.

“T, you can go back. I’ll get a beer and meet you there.” I try to sound as soft as Tony does when she tries to assure me. Tony looked at the guy then back to me. She nodded and then turned to make her way back to the group of people we were just at.

“You must not be from around here, a tourist?” The blonde pulls a lighter out of his pocket and pops open they beer. “If so, I’m as local as the come and you seem to need a guide.” He then winks and take a takes a swig of the beer. I return a smirk, trying to come off as flirty and make my way towards him.

“How often does that line work for you?”

“Well, normally tourist don’t ask that question.” as I get closer I lean down to be at the same level as him, I notice the blonde look down at my lips.

“Well I dont need a guide but,” I stand up straight and take the bottle from his hand, “for a local you are a very good host, thank you for opening my beer.” I place the bottle against my lips and take a drink.

the blonde shoots up from where he was sitting and takes the bottle back from me. “Dude find your own.”

I give him an innocent smile, “Well you see, that is mine, its from my cooler.” I take the bottle back and turn on my heels, “The name is Mae, hope to see you around blondie.”

“Wished the feeling was mutual!” The blond hollers after me then I hear slight chuckles come from him. I make my way to Tony who is now with a group of girls.

A/N hey so there are probably a handful of mistakes, I was just excited to get this out. Once again, sorry for it being slow in the beginning I was trying to build Mae up so you could know her a little more. the more notes the faster the second part will come out!

UPDATE: I HAVE MOVED THIS FANFIC TO WATTPAD, HERE IS THIS LINK! LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR THE NOTES!

#jj #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj x #jj x reader #rudy pankow #north carolina #imagine #jj fanfiction #outer banks netflix #writng #TwoOfAKind

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rudemaidenswrite · 4 years

Text

Damn

Fandom: House of a 1,000 Corpses

Rufus Jr 'RJ' Firefly x Reader

By: @pusantheamazonian not beta’d

I've always liked RJ. Of course there's like nuthin’ for him. So viola!

“Howdy Y/N. Hidin’ from your daddy again?” With the ring if the doorbell. Spaulding greets you with a smile already knowing why you're here.

“You know it.” Slowly making your way to the counter. Sad to say you're a little ashamed of this predicament.

“Darlin you need to leave his ass or find a boyfriend. You hidin’ out here ain't good for you. People are going to say you're strange.”

“I'm already strange. I willingly walk five miles to get here because I prefer hanging out with you and the museum than my daddy when he's home.” Reaching the counter you kick at the floor. He goes through this speech every time.

“Five miles? You're saying you walk five miles just to be here?” A hand on his hip. He looks at you like you have two heads or something.

“Yes, I walk everywhere I don't have a car. I'm saving my money so I can leave this town.”

“You need to leave his ass.”

“I know I know. It's just hard. I moved in to make sure he was alright after momma died but he started drinking again and it just got worse.” With your best doe eyes you plead for him to stop his scolding.

“The usual?” Spaulding says after giving you a disapproving look.

“Yup.”

He places a chocolate bar and a bag of chicken on the counter. Thanking him, you hand over the money. Placing the bag of chicken in your bag. You begin eating the chocolate as you wander over to Aqualina.

Hearing the ding of the doorbell you're used to the slow trickle of regulars and random travelers. But ever vigilant to make sure it's not your father. You always peek a look at whoever enters.

Today is no other day. Turning to see who it is, you're stunned. To say that you weren't staring is a lie. You've never seen him before and you're here at least twice a week. His tall muscular stature, dark brown hair with a button up shirt that looks a little tight has you weak in the knees. Biting your lip is the only thing that keeps you from drooling. You watch him closely as he walks to the counter and talks with Spaulding. The way he's talking to him, Spaulding must know him. You briefly catch Spaulding call him RJ. Not very suttle in staring, Spaulding is looking at you. Before you can compose yourself, Spaulding's given you a wink and smirk. Embarrassed you spin back around trying to ignore them. But you keep glancing at their reflection in the glass. Spaulding fucking knows what you're doing. Cause every time you look at the glass Spaulding still has that smirk. Flustered you breeze past them and out the door. Berating yourself all the way home.

Spaulding knows.

This strange encounter goes on for three weeks. Every time RJ showed up you were only able to stay for a few minutes because you found yourself staring. Staring so much that your throat goes dry. Always ignoring him and Captain Spaulding before either one could say anything. This week you'll be damned if you have to leave in an embarrassment.

“What the hell are you doing?” Spotting Spaulding you make a b-line to him, leaning over the counter.

“Well I'm about to eat this tasty donut but you're interrupting me.”

“Not the donut. You know what I'm talking about. You disappear and then RJ shows up a few minutes later.” Glaring you lean in .

Suddenly he’s grabbed you by the shirt and hoisted you over the counter. Shocked your feet are dangling off the ground. Shit what have you done? Panic sets in.

“Darlin you best be minding me. I saw the two of you eye fucking. You both need to stop being pussies and get on with it.” He is wearing a mean scowl, meaner than you've ever seen.

“He.. likes me?” Now you're confused, you never noticed RJ looking at you. Hell you didn't even think he noticed you. well noticed you as a girl and not the random person who always suddenly leaves.

“Damn girl pay attention! Why the hell do you think I'm even botherin’ with this?" Aggravated he releases you.

"I don't know, to be annoying?"

"Y/N. That's the stupidest thing you've said yet. You're grounded to your corner." Deadpaning he points to your usual spot in the corner.

"Fine." Grumbling you straighten out your shirt and go to your corner. Damn it, you hate when he treats you like a child.

Like always Spaulding disappears for a few minutes, returning with a shit eating grin. Exactly fifteen minutes later in walks RJ. In the glass you see Spaulding point at you, clearly done with your shit. RJ looks at you and you quickly glance away, hoping he didn't see you staring.

A thick silence fills the room, nervous you try not to panic. You're not going to make a good impression if you're flustered. God you hope he's not a dick. The last couple guys have been assholes.

RJ quietly makes it to your side and waits. Apparently waiting for you to make the first move. Well now or never.

“Uh hi. Captain Spaulding says you go by RJ is that right?”

“Yes…failed to mention yours."

“Y/N.” Giving a small smile. His voice is better up close, it has a deep country tone to it.

“You draw?" He eyes the sketch book in your hand.

“It's just a hobby that I get to work on here. I'm surprised Spaulding hasn't banned me yet.”

"You visit often?"

"About twice a week. I go for a walk and end up here."

"Lair. You hide out here about every other day." Spaulding chimes. Immediately turning to glare at him. He returns the look with a meaner scowl, forcing you to turn back around. Now you're just embarrassed.

"Interesting place of choice."

"Better than some places."

"Better? That's low expectations."

"Keep your expectations low and you will never be disappointed." Excited, you're able to get a chuckle out of him. He looks adorable when he smiles.

“Can I see?”

“Sure.” Tucking the pencil behind your ear you hand it to him. He flips through all of your decent and shitty drawings. Mostly shitty.

"Interesting one." Handing it back, he left it open to a particular page. It's a skull that has a glass eyeball in the forehead.

"Oh I was inspired by the whole third eye philosophy." He gives you a confused look. "The third eye or inner eye that's a mystical and esoteric concept. Referring to an invisible eye in the middle of the forehead. That provides perception beyond ordinary sight." Staring at each other there's a moment of silence. Obviously, he did not just understand a word you said.

"That is a lot of words I don't know."

"Sorry. Sometimes I just word vomit." Motioning with your hand you pretend to vomit.

"Cute and smart."

Abort! Abort!

"Uh thanks. Never been those before." Blushing you don't know what to say. Expect that you are freaking out. He thinks you're cute and smart.

“Well I should be going. I have work in the morning. I'll see you later." You slowly walk to the door. "GOODBYE SPAULDING!”

"Bye Y/N." A muffled shout comes from the back.

"Bye RJ." You give a wave before disappearing out the door.

"Bye."

At home you find your father passed out in the recliner. You quickly clean up the empty beer bottles and trash before heading upstairs. Making sure to lock your door.

It's another two days before you make it back to Spaulding's. Like clockwork, RJ sneaks up beside you. Waiting for you to notice but you always notice. The man is a walking wall of muscle. Giving him a smile you tuck the notebook away.

“Here, I made chocolate chip cookies.”

“Thanks.” He peeks under the lid before tucking the container under his arm.

“How ungrateful. You didn't bring me none?” Spaulding shouts from the counter.

“Did you look in the container on the fridge?” Rolling your eyes you can't believe he missed it.

“What fuckin’ container?”

“Red square tin.” You point at the most identifiable item on top of the fridge.

“I'll be damned, paint my ass blue and call me a baboon. You didn't forget me after all.” Munching on the cookies he disappears into the back.

“No hope for him.” Chuckling you turn back to RJ.

“You bake?”

“Every now and then. Mainly when I have a reason to.”

"What's your favorite thing to bake?"

"Mmm. I would have to say cookies because I can eat the cookie dough while the cookies are baking."

"Doesn't that give you food poisoning?"

"They say it does but I'm willing to take the chance."

He chuckles, amused by your oddness. Maybe you’re weird for this reason.

“Do you want a ride home?”

Surprised that he asked, you hope that this doesn't end badly if you follow him. Besides, it's still a little early to go home. Though it would be nice to spend some alone time with him. Well out of sight of Spaulding.

"Sure."

Outside you finally see what his ride is. His truck is one of those old ones. The kind where you have to slam the door shut to make sure it shuts and you have no idea how it's still operational.

Buckling your seatbelt there is a faint smell of liquor and car grease.

“You want to see something that's not at the museum?” Climbing into his seat he's got this look in his eyes. Like he wants to test the limits of your sanity.

“Yeah, what is it?”

Smiling he puts the truck into gear. RJ drives a few miles outside of town, farther out than Spaulding's shop. He pulls onto a dirt road that leads to a farm. Surrounded by a big wooden fence with several outlying buildings and one big farmhouse. The location and isolation of the farm makes you uneasy.

"Follow me." RJ instructs exiting the truck. Nodding nervously you follow. He walks to a wood shed. “Here.” He opens the shed door.

“Wow!” Stunned you slowly walk around it. Someone has created a female Minotaur. The brown hair is styled on the cow's head sitting cross legged in shorts and t-shirt. You're unable to see the lines where the two have been attached. “Who made this?”

“Otis.”

“Otis?”

“Adoptive… Uncle? The family adopted him years ago.” He shrugs not really sure how to explain it.

“Well you can give him my regards. This is amazing.” You cautiously poke the snout.

"I'll pass it along."

The door creaks and you turn to look. Just to make sure that RJ didn't leave you, nope it's a new person entering. You knew RJ was tall but this guy is even taller! Really looking at him you see some deformities. From what you can tell they must be due to his stature.

“My brother Tiny.” RJ explains seeing your confused face.

“Hi Tiny. I'm Y/N.” It's oddly funny that his name is Tiny but he's so tall. You keep that to yourself. Tiny waves. “Nice shirt.” You point at his shirt. It says I got your back bro. One stick figure is holding the other stick figure’s back.

He seems to chuckle before grabbing a hammer and shuffling away.

"How many siblings do you have?" You make your way back to RJ’s side.

"Just Baby and Tiny."

"Baby?"

"Sister."

"Must be fun. I never had any siblings."

"You're not missing anything."

"Really?"

"Really." RJ leads you back to the truck before you can question anything else.

Pulling up to your house the moment is bittersweet. You don't want to go inside but you know you have to.

"Thanks for the ride. I'll see you later." Smiling, you place a hand on the door handle. You struggle a moment to open it. The door is unlocked but you have to sort of shove it for it to open.

Cracking the door, you turn to look back at RJ. Surprised. RJ has leaned over and is a few inches away. You swear he can hear your heart pounding. There's only a pause before he captures your lips. His lips are surprisingly soft and so are his movements. Without a thought you press into the kiss. Only to have him part a few moments later.

"Bye." Smirking he doesn't move as he waits for you to catch up.

"Bye." Dazed you fumble with the door trying to get out. You know you must be red as a tomato. Once out of the truck you keep peeking over your shoulder to look at him. Did he just lure you out on a date?

RJ chuckles. So refreshing. Soft and reserved, nothing like his family who are loud, opinionated and chaotic.

Since that night RJ takes you home every night you visit Spaulding. Always taking the long way around. The flirty smiles and mischievous looks on the drive home. Stealing kisses before you open the passenger door. Sometimes leading to wandering hands. Leaving you always wanting more. Making you braver every week.

That all came to a screeching stop when you came home from work to find your father already home, drunk and awake.

Making it to Spalding’s, you manage to sneak in and leave money on the counter after swiping a chocolate bar. You plan on hiding outside tonight to avoid any lectures from Spaulding.

“Howdy Y/N.”

shit.

“Hey Spaulding. Just stopped in for a candy bar, I put the money on the counter.” Almost to the door you pause.

“Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Turn around.”

Fuck!

There's no way of escaping. In defeat you slowly turn around.

“What in the fucking hell is that?” He’s immediately around the counter and pointing at your face.

“He got back early today.”

“Did you at least hit the bastard before you left?”

“Yeah… how bad is it?”

“You haven't looked?”

“No.”

“It ain't pretty darlin.” Shaking his head you know he’s disappointed with you. You're disappointed in yourself.

“Damn.”

“Come back here. Best to hide for the moment.” He pulls you along and behind the curtain into his break room. The walls are a weird off white color. There's a recliner, a table with two chairs, a microwave and a small refrigerator on the counter. "Sit."

Not arguing you sit at the table. You're embarrassed that he caught you like this. Now he's definitely going to think you're stupid.

"Put this on it." He hands you an ice pack wrapped in a towel.

"Thanks."

He disappears back behind the curtain. Probably to turn the open sign around. With a defeated sigh you hold the ice pack just barely close enough to your face. The bruise is still tender and you haven't decided yet if the cold is making it better or worse.

Spaulding returns grumpy as ever.

"Let me see." You move your hand away slowly. "Got you good. Whole side of your face is bruised. You want to explain what happened?" Pulling the chair closer he sits in front of you.

"He found out about RJ somehow. Was waiting for me at the door. Going on about him being trash and that I'm too young for boys."

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty seven."

"I'm only kidding but you're still a baby compared to me." Teasing he pats your knee.

"Ha ha." Huffing you put the ice pack back. "Son of a bitch!" You weren't watching and put it on your skin too quickly.

"Ah! You do have a potty mouth. I was startin' to wonder if you knew how to curse." Chuckling he leans back into the chair. Giving him the stink eye only makes him laugh harder.

The ding of the doorbell makes him stop. “That should be RJ.”

“RJ? You called RJ?” Panicking this night is just getting worse.

"You have a few pages stuck together if you think I didn't."

"Fuck." Groaning as you stand, the walk to the curtain is too short. You part the curtain not ready to explain to RJ.

“Y/N!” The drunken voice is fueled by anger.

“Daddy?”

“I should have known you would be here. Let's go!” Before you can react he's at the counter. He’s got a death grip on your arm and pulling you to the door.

“No let go.” Kicking him in the groin. His grip loosens and you push him to the floor. "Spaulding!"

Screaming you run back to the break room but a hand grips your ankle. Pulling you down with a hard thud.

"Y/N!" Yelling, a possessed look takes over.

Rolling over you use your other leg and start kicking.

"Get off me!" Screaming at him. You don't notice the figure barrelling through the door.

In a millisecond he stops. Eyes never stop staring at you. Blood trickles down his face. That's when you notice blood is everywhere and you see a giant metal hook lodged in the back of his head.

You can't process this, everything has gone numb. He's dead. The man who's tormented you these past few years. Making you regret everything you've done to help. Is dead.

"Y/N."

"RJ?" Snapping your attention upwards. It's RJ. This man must be heaven sent.

“What the fuck is this?” Spaulding yells whipping a pistol around and glancing at the body. You point at RJ. Who bends over and picks you up like you were a rag doll. Proceeding to put you over his shoulder.

"Whoa!"

“What do you think this is? A fuckin’ clean up service? RJ!” Spaulding's pissed and RJ clearly doesn't care because he walks back outside. You are confused beyond all get out.

"Damn it. I just mopped the floor." Grumbling Spaulding gets the mop.

Squealing of the truck door indicates where he has taken you. In one solid motion he moves you the passenger seat. His frame blocks any view you could have.

To your surprise he gingerly takes your chin and tilts your head. Obviously to get a better look at the damage. This flip in focus makes you feel very inadequate. Second guessing if you deserve him.

"Y/N." He noticed your avoidance with eye contact.

Finally looking at him you officially break down. "RJ I'm sorry!" Tears are pouring, body threatening to hiccup.

"Why are you sorry? I should be. I didn't get here sooner."

"He was waiting for me today. I know I should have just turned around when I saw him but I didn't. I'm so stupid! I know better not to be there when he's drunk and awake."

"Don't worry about it. He got what was coming."

"Really? But he's-"

"A dead bastard." RJ affirms. He wont have you mourning over that man.

Letting it sink in for a moment you begin to nod in agreement.

"Let's get you home. It'll be alright." He kisses your forehead giving you a tight hug.

"Okay."

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty Six

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

They sat in companionable silence for a while on the bottom step, Roman resting his head on Damien’s shoulder. “I’m glad we both like each other,” Roman said idly. “I know we completely skipped over boyfriends straight into fiancés, but regardless, liking each other is...good. Nice.”

Damien laughed and said, “Are you always this flustered around guys you like?” and Roman groaned.

“Look, not having the words to describe how I feel about love is not an uncommon thing,” Roman protested. “You’re the one who thought my smile was pretty enough to fall down the stairs for.”

Damien huffed in annoyance and Roman smirked. “You know it’s true,” Roman gloated.

“Are you going to bring that up whenever we have a debate?” Damien asked.

“It’s entirely possible, at least until you do something stupider,” Roman said.

Damien sighed. “Well, you’re honest about it at least.”

Roman grinned before looking up at the stairs behind them. “I hate that sooner or later we’re going to have to leave,” he sighed.

“Tell me about it,” Damien sighed. “I just hope we aren’t punished by being separated again.”

“I will fight tooth and nail against that, for what it’s worth,” Roman said. “I would argue I hated that more than you did. I had to be with my mother, after all.”

“That’s true,” Damien mused. “Maybe if they force that, I only do it under the negotiation that I stay with your mother so you can’t be in the same room as her?”

Roman snorted. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, let alone you,” he said.

“And yet you do it to yourself?” Damien asked.

Roman went quiet. “Someone has to, at the end of the day.”

“That someone doesn’t have to be you,” Damien said.

“Well, I’m not going to wish it on anyone else in this castle, so I’m the only one left,” Roman said with a shrug. “This afternoon, and then tomorrow. The day after that is the rehearsal for the wedding, and before you know it, this will all be over.”

“I don’t want you being punished for the next three days, my dear,” Damien said.

Roman shrugged. “Punished for the next three days is better than punished for the rest of my life.”

“That’s what this was intended to be, my dear,” Damien said. “And that’s not fair to you. I want to lessen the suffering and punishment as much as possible.”

“I would argue you already have,” Roman said, stroking Damien’s cheek.

Damien turned pink and Roman bit his lip, wondering if it was too soon to try for a kiss. Roman leaned forward but Damien pulled back, and Roman stopped. Too soon, then.

“We should probably move away from the steps,” Damien said, standing up. “If we leave through the door behind us we’ll almost certainly be caught in an instant, but I know some ways to sneak around this castle and not get lectured quite yet.”

“Could we retreat to my room?” Roman asked. “Spend some time away from everyone before the inevitable lecture?”

“Of course, my love,” Damien said, holding out his hand, and Roman took it.

Damien helped Roman to his feet and they walked further into the basement. It wasn’t the most well-lit, but it wasn’t completely dark and dreary. “Is this storage space?” Roman asked.

“Mostly,” Damien agreed. “But the perk of that is that there are multiple ways to get to the storage from around the castle, depending on what you need.”

Roman nodded.

Damien led him up a flight of stairs to a nondescript door and held a finger to his lips. He pressed his ear to the wood, and, apparently satisfied with what he heard, opened the door and ushered Roman up and out of the basement. Roman recognized the mudroom he had ran through his first day here right down the hall, and Damien led him up the back stairs and both of them rushed to Roman’s room, Roman closing the door with a click and sighing. “My mother is going to be furious,” he lamented.

“You retreated to your room to regroup and think things over,” Damien said. “No one would blame you for that.”

“You are far too good at coming up with excuses,” Roman laughed, walking over to his bed. Damien sat down next to him and Roman sighed. “I admittedly don’t know how we’re going to pass the time without causing a ruckus and being found out.”

Damien glanced around. “I mean, you packed art supplies...and...at least one book,” he said, pointing to the nightstand. “I could read and you could draw, if all else fails.”

“True,” Roman sighed. He looked at the flower crown Damien was still wearing, and smiled. “I’m glad you like my little gift to you.”

“Of course,” Damien said, sounding almost offended. “It was a gift from you. Why wouldn’t I like it?”

Roman squeaked and turned cherry red. “Rude!” he sputtered.

Damien chuckled, arching an eyebrow. “I fail to see how that’s rude, but if I must repay you for that somehow, I suppose I will.”

Roman was struck with an idea and he grabbed his sketchbook and pencils. “Sit still, then, I want to draw you with your flower crown,” he said, flipping to a blank page in his sketchbook and beginning to get the basic shapes on paper.

Damien laughed, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, woe is me! I have to sit still for five minutes while you sketch, I never should have agreed to this!”

Roman snickered and shook his head. “Well, that’s what you get for being rude!” he shot back.

“That wasn’t rude!” Damien laughed. “Rude would be doing a dramatic rendition of ‘Say Something’ using your hairbrush as the microphone just after you’ve gotten out of the shower.”

Roman laughed harder. “You’re so weird!” Roman declared, pointing his pencil at Damien. “That’s such an oddly specific example. Who did you do that to?”

Damien turned light pink and looked away. “No one in particular,” he said.

Roman squinted at Damien. He would have just admitted if it had been a boyfriend, and he had thick hair, but his father always kept his hair neat and it wasn’t nearly as curly as Damien’s, so he doubted it was his father. Roman’s eyes lit up and he giggled. “You did that to your mom, didn’t you?!”

“Shut up!” Damien hissed. “How was I to know she was in the shower in the hotel?”

“Uh, if you were sharing a hotel room, you definitely should have heard the water running,” Roman laughed. “And ‘Say Something’? Really? You would sing ‘Say Something’? That’s such a specific song!”

Damien huffed. “I was in my angst phase, all right?!” he defended. “And my mother ripped her hairbrush out of my hands, so her hair didn’t dry tangled!”

“That doesn’t make it better!” Roman crowed. “Oh, if you do that on our honeymoon, I will personally kill you. My hair is a mess enough without it getting all tangled after a shower.”

“Speaking of honeymoons...anywhere you want to go?” Damien asked. “I’m personally fond of the Meditteranian.”

“I kind of want to see Rome, and Italy in general for that matter,” Roman said with a shrug. “But the Carribean would also be nice. White beaches, blue skies, nothing but the open ocean for miles on a rental boat?”

“Hm, true,” Damien said. “The Carribean is lovely. How about this: we honeymoon in Italy, and for Valentine’s, I take you to the Carribean? Get away from the freezing winter.”

“You would do that?” Roman asked, eyes lighting up. “You’d take a vacation for a couple days just to go to the beach with me?”

“I’d make it two weeks if at all possible,” Damien said. “Just enough time for sun, sand, water, and maybe some fun inside, too, if you catch my drift.”

Roman gripped his pencil so hard he was surprised it didn’t snap in two. “Damien!” he exclaimed indignantly as Damien started snickering. “That is impossibly rude! Don’t get me thinking about those sorts of things when I’m trying to draw! It never ends well!”

“How does it end?” Damien asked.

“Usually with certain images drawn that should never see the light of day,” Roman said seriously, focusing on Damien’s nose in the drawing rather than looking up at Damien himself.

“I’d love to see those,” Damien said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Maybe once we’re married,” Roman muttered. “But not before.”

“Oh, you wound me!” Damien exclaimed.

“The marriage is in three days, you doofus, you’ll live,” Roman said definitively.

Damien sighed. “...You know your mother is probably going to kill us both when she finds us.”

“Yep, trying not to think about that, thanks,” Roman said, continuing to draw.

“Do you have any plans for trying to get out of it?” Damien asked.

“Nope. I just figure she’ll yell at me for a while and then be done with it. She can’t call off the wedding at this point.”

“Why not?” Damien asked. “You said yourself that she arranged it, and you said it in front of half a dozen dignitaries. The secret’s out, my dear. They know it’s not a marriage of love, but of convenience.”

Roman sighed. “I choose to believe that she wouldn’t stoop so low as to cancel the marriage. She’s too desperate to have her perfect daughter.”

Damien frowned. “You know, I think it’s rather sad,” he mused. “She’s so desperate to cling to someone you never were that she’ll shove who you really are away. I know parents dream of their perfect children, who could never do a thing wrong in their life, and who are everything they want those kids to be and more, but...in the process of trying to preserve her daughter, she’s chasing away her son. I know that what she’s doing is inexcusable, and I know it hurts you, and of course, I’m not trying to defend her, but...that desperation...that sheer fear of the unknown that turns into bigotry and ignorance...it’s saddening to see.”

“Because she could be good, if only she opened her eyes and saw the error of her ways,” Roman agreed softly. “If she didn’t try to micromanage myself and Remus, and let us do what we wanted, be ourselves, explore who that really is without fear of judgement, she probably could have loved who we really are. Everyone who I talk to when I’m myself...when I’m not pretending to be Veronica? They say that I’m the happiest man they’ve ever seen. They say I’m full of life, that I’m energetic, that I light up a room when I enter it.

“That’s how I was when I was a kid, too. That’s what my mother is trying to cling to. But what she doesn’t realize is that when she saw a little girl, the reality was that I was being a little boy. I was being myself. And yeah, some more ‘feminine’ interests like art have stayed through the years, but...at the end of the day...I’m a man. I was being a little boy, getting dirty and scuffing my shoes and wearing my hair short and insisting on wearing pants and suits like Remus did. That wasn’t a little girl going through a rebellious phase, that was a little boy trying to get the world to agree that’s who he was.”

Damien nodded solemnly. “I don’t suppose explaining that to her would go over well?”

“I’ve tried. More than once. She never wants to hear it. She’s too wrapped up in her ideal little world to accept that life doesn’t always turn out the way she wants it to,” Roman said. “It’s beyond infuriating, but right now, I’m resigned to my fate. Three more days of pretending. And then hormones, surgery, therapy, the works.”

Damien’s lips twitched up. “If you keep focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel, you’ll be there before you know it.”

“I hope so,” Roman sighed.

“I know so,” Damien assured him. “Pretty soon no one in the world will be able to deny that you are a man. Not even your parents.”

“They’ll argue it anyway, because of what’s in my pants,” Roman sighed, making marks on the shading of his drawing.

“If we keep you hidden away for a couple months until the HRT kicks in, they won’t recognize you at first,” Damien suggested.

“As soon as we say my name they will,” Roman said, rolling his eyes.

“My love, by that point I will most likely have swords at your parents’ throats and if they misgender you they will lose their heads. Literally. I will not hesitate,” Damien said determinedly. “No one will be allowed to misgender you again.”

Roman felt his cheeks heat up and he couldn’t help but look away, finding Damien’s gaze to be far too intense. “I appreciate it,” Roman said. “Truly. I just wish that it weren’t a problem in the first place.”

“I know,” Damien tutted. His eyes drifted away from Roman and to the page Roman was signing. “Oh, wow,” he breathed. “My love, that is beautiful.”

Roman giggled a little. “It’s not my best work,” he admitted with some reluctance. “I am proud of it for the time I took, but it’s not the best. I will admit the flowers came out better than expected.”

“I can’t wait to see you draw more, so I can see the work you’re actually proud of,” Damien said. “Because this is incredible. The pieces you put time into must be heart-stopping.”

“Stop!” Roman whined. “Oh my god, you’re going to kill me at this rate! Don’t!”

Damien gently closed the sketchbook and put it on the nightstand, and removed Roman’s hands from his face so he couldn’t hide behind them. “My love, you can create the second most beautiful masterpieces in the world.”

“What’s the first?” Roman asked.

Damien smirked. “I think you know.”

“If you say me, I will kick you, and it will hurt,” Roman warned.

“If I said anything else I would be—oof!” Damien was cut off by Roman roughly kicking Damien in the jewels. “...Lying...ow...”

“Serves you right,” Roman huffed. “You’ve been nothing but rude to me all day with your compliments.”

Damien winced and tried to uncurl from his fetal position. “I had been informed that most boys generally liked being flirted with...”

“I’m not most boys,” Roman said simply.

“...You’re right. I should have taken that into account.” Damien took a deep breath through his nose and let out a sigh. “Okay. I’m not going to puke from that one kick, that’s progress.”

Roman offered Damien a smirk. “You’ve puked from that type of thing before?”

“Yes, although I was fairly young,” Damien admitted. “I told a girl I liked her brother and she screamed and kicked me, essentially gave me the shovel talk, and stormed off. Apparently Nate already liked a girl. And my giving him my bubblegum lollipop meant nothing.”

Roman laughed. “Oh, that’s priceless!”

Damien pouted. “Come on, giving up my bubblegum lollipop was a big deal! And he just took it and didn’t even say thank you!”

“Still hilarious,” Roman said, grinning.

Damien huffed. “I see how it is,” he grumbled.

“No, baby, come on, I love you,” Roman said, hugging him. “I just also love laughing at you.”

Damien continued to pout and grumble for a couple minutes, but Roman hugging him meant that the mood in the room wasn’t too dark.

Damien grimaced as his stomach growled. “It’s about lunch time,” he said. “But I anticipate we wouldn’t be allowed to sneak into the kitchen to avoid the dignitaries.”

Roman took off his and Damien’s flower crowns and placed them gently on the nightstand. “I’m willing to wait for an hour or so to try and sneak down.”

“That’s probably our best bet,” Damien agreed. “Until then...” he grabbed Roman’s hairbrush and said, “Care to duet?”

Roman laughed. “Sure, what song?”

“‘Say Something’?” Damien offered with a grin.

“Uh, maybe not,” Roman laughed. “What about ‘all the good girls go to hell’?”

Damien’s eyes lit up, “I love that song!” he declared, pulling out his phone and typing furiously. After a second, the song started to play, and Damien started singing into Roman’s hairbrush. “‘My Lucifer is lonely...’”

Roman belted out the lyrics along with Damien, and at some point during the song they wound up standing on the bed, dramatically posing to each line. By the end of the song, they were breathless and laughing, and Roman was beaming as Damien bit back a grin. “That was fun!” Roman exclaimed. “Another song?”

“Sure,” Damien agreed.

Roman scrolled through his phone, looking at what he had recently played, and he laughed. “Hey, want something ironic?” he asked.

“Always,” Damien said.

Roman played Lorde’s “Royals” and Damien burst out laughing as the beat started. They sang just as dramatically as before, Roman bouncing on his toes on the bed while Damien struggled to simply remain standing. Roman giggled as the song came to a close. “That was fun,” he said.

A knock sounded on the door and both his and Damien’s heads snapped to it as it swung open. Virgil walked in, looking furious. “There you are! Your Highnesses, the whole castle has been looking for you for two hours!”

Damien shrugged. “Roman was upset after confronting his mother. We came back here to talk and after a time we decided to have some fun just singing. Did you not think to look here until now?”

Virgil seethed. “I knew you two were still on the grounds, but that didn’t mean you two weren’t out of danger! Do you have any idea how much of a state your parents are in, Damien?!”

Damien slumped and shrugged. “Honestly, they should know that I do this sometimes, they should expect it, really.”

“Well, whether they did or didn’t this is the longest we’ve gone without finding you, and the two of you have to answer to them,” Virgil said sternly. “Out. Now.”

Tag List: @lunareclipse-13@sanders-sides-crofters@blushy-gigglee-mess@wannacrymetoo@kaytikitty@magicalspacepanunicorn@bootsinthesun@pricklyfish777@flowersanddinosaurs@leiasolo77@birdybabybird@enby-phoenix@luna--28@justagaygoose@the-prince-and-the-emo@fandomsandanythingelse@randommuffinyt@snekky-boi@thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot@twilight-trix@abby5577@escalatingtoofast@friendlyfacestabbing@remus-is-stinky@foggybanditdreampeanut@ghostskull300@sprinklestheditty@canvas-the-florist@askthesnake@samuel-the-gay@determination-saved@juicy-cashew@demidork84@why-should-i-tell-youu2@nerd-in-space@aphriteblack@cktkat@im-actually-ok@loganpatton@lilbeanblr@kittyboof8@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch@sanders-trash-4ever@hamilspntrash@swords-and-kittens@phantomfander@narniasfinestavengingsociopath@rjmeta@ambersky0319@anni-cat-flower@idosanderssidespromptssometimes@nafsbluebery@redisawerewolf23@voidvirgil@msu82@angstyfanfiction

#roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #deceit sanders #royal growing pains #our creations

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warmau · 5 years

Text

mermaid!au taeil~ a late birthday gift to the moonis out there ☆

a pretty rainbow parrotfish swims by as you bring your pencil down against your sketchpad and try to capture the glittering of it’s scales with a combination of reds, purples, and blues

usually the aquarium is packed to the brim with tourists and families and kids on school trips

but today it’s relatively calm and you’re happy to have the silence to sketch in

the only sound is the occasional footsteps of other visitors and the hum you make when you pick out another color to use

“ah do you think so?”

you’re about to start the outline on some kelp you’ve doodled in the back of your sketch when you hear a gentle voice

at first, you think the person is talking to you

but when you look up, it doesn’t seem like anyone is paying you any mind

maybe i just overheard someone elses conversation?

you reason and focus back on your drawing

when you hear it again

“hmm maybe. i don’t think i should disturb them.”

your eyes travel up and you look on both sides of the wide, expansive tank

the room has cleared out except for you, whose sitting by the wall and one other person

he’s got one hand on the glass, his dark hair swept out of his face as his eyes

peer deep into the water

he’s dressed casually, but the simple clothes don’t mask the fact that he’s handsome

with a defined jaw and slightly tanned skin

you can make out his profile, small silver hoops in his ears and a high collared shirt that hides the dip of his neck

he’s intriguing, mostly because he looks beautiful but also because

he seems to be talking to himself

before you can look away, he turns and his gaze locks on yours

in the dim, blue light his brown eyes give off a sparkling tint

and you sort of find yourself nervous from the eye contact

choosing to glance away and back down at your sketch

“should i tell them? do you really want me to?”

he says again and you’re sure there isn’t anyone accompanying him

so who is he talking to?

his footsteps are light and he comes over to you a couple of seconds later

you bite back your lip, stuck between worried and curious

“hello, i just wanted to let you know that they’re curious about what you’re doing.”

his eyes shift to your sketchpad and then light up

“ah - you’re drawing.”

you nod slowly

“sorry, but who is curious?”

he tilts his head to the side, taking him time to answer

“they are.”

he motions behind him with a smile

but when you peek over his shoulder all you can see is the giant aquarium tank

“um who?”

“the fish.”

oh the fi- wait what?

you start to get the feeling this guy is playing some kind of joke

his calm, mature appearance must be a facade because why else would he pretend the fish could talk

you clutch your sketchbook to your chest, hiding the drawing

and he seems to sense that you’ve become upset

“ah, hmm you’re human so you think im crazy right?”

he reaches up and pulls at the high collar around his neck

at first you think he’s just being weird again - a continuation of whatever joke he thinks he’s pulling

but then you see it

just like the parrotfishes glittering scales, you see the same texture and color cascading across the man’s skin

you stare in disbelief when you realize they’re not painted it

and under the scales are slits, like gills

“they said they’ve seen you here many times - that you’re gentle and can help me.”

he tugs the collar back up and you are trying to comprehend the situation

“th-the fishes told you that?”

“yes. they told me you like them so they think you will like me too.”

his lips part a bit and for a moment you think he’s going to zone out on you when he just adds

“my name is taeil, im a mermaid from the west sea.”

you introduce yourself back, stuttering and then feeling the skin on your face heat up

“the fish said i w-would like you?”

“yes! do you like me?”

you realize he probably doesn’t know the entire meaning of the word ‘like’

but still, having someone so handsome ask you such a question makes your heart beat a little faster

“i ,,,, well i don’t know you enough and-”

he steps closer and takes your hand

pulling you suddenly in close and when you find yourself inches from his face you can’t believe it

but you faintly smell sea breeze

he brings his forehead to yours and you only manage to ask whats going on in a small squeak

and he laughs a little

“this is how mermaids show affection, we cant use words under water - this gesture will help you know me better.”

you feel your throat go dry, and just in the same moment a group of new vistors venture into the room

they eye you, chuckling something about couples before turning their attention to the fish

you gently push away, looking at taeil completely flustered

“do you like me now?”

“i - um -”

you can’t find the right words and before you manage to

taeil turns back toward the tank

“ah? yes, i think they’re pretty too.”

he tilts his head and returns back to you

“the fish say you can help me, will you help me - pretty human?”

you blurt out your name and taeil hears it but it seems like he has no intention of calling you by it

instead he puts a hand out and waits for you to accept

“pretty human - will you help me live in your world?”

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #taeil scenarios #taeil imagines #member: taeil #mermaid! au #sfw #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 au #nct #taeil #happy birthday my angelic vocal king

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identityexcavationstation · 4 years

Text

The High Fidelity Remake is Good and my Identity is Irreversibly Linked to Music Consumption

Hi! So, I’m kinda insane about playlists.

This year I’ve made a lot of them. They’ve been short and snappy on index cards, scanned and pasted in a book and uploaded to the internet. (I’ve really fallen in love with index card playlists and they’re my thing now and I think everyone should do them always and forever.) They were easy to churn out as a retrospective exercise because the music I listened to as a teenager really defined my high school experience. Also, I have most of my favorite songs from that period in a very dramatic playlist I started in 2014 so it was really a game of copy-and-paste.

Making these smol boys in batches has been a really peculiar experience because for years now, I’ve only made one playlist at a time. In my second semester of college, I’d officially burned myself out listening to only CHVRCHES for three months and began venturing elsewhere. (Don’t get me wrong, CHVRCHES absolutely bangs, but you can only listen to “Never Ending Circles” so many times before getting seasick.) All of the random songs I was listening to made me feel kinda hazy and purple, like I’d done all of this before. So I made a playlist full of them and called it “Deja Vu.”

I added to it all semester, and then suddenly it was summer and I didn’t feel purple and hazy anymore⁠—everything was blue and crisp on the way to South Haven as my friend blasted “Settle Down” by Kimbra in her beat-up Honda. So I started a new playlist and named it the first word that popped into my head: “Roots.”

Using Deja Vu as a rubric, I developed some ground rules for the playlists I would go on to create. They are pretty nonsensical but also exceedingly firm because if I don’t make rules for every area of my life I feel like I’m falling into a deep and limitless void. Health! Anyway, the rules are:

The playlist’s title has to be a short noun (seven letters maximum).

This has since transformed into a noun that is also a verb.

To generate a title, I ask myself what short word I would use to describe the phase of life I’m currently in. The answer comes quickly and reflexively, and I choose the very first word I think of.

One song per artist, no repeats!

Exceptions are made for artists who are featured on a track.

There have been times when I’ve obsessively listened to a whole album or an artist’s entire discography, so I have to choose just one song that represents the very best of that album or artist.

Tracks are added chronologically, based on when I first hear them and/or start listening to them compulsively.

The playlist has to contain an amount of tracks that is divisible by five.

If a song in a playlist is deleted from Spotify, I have to find a replacement asap that is accurate to what I was listening to when that playlist was being created.

and, most importantly,

I can’t make a new playlist until I feel I’m finished with the current one.

These playlists represent seasons of my life, cycles in which I change and evolve and stagnate and fuck up and try again. The only rule I have for beginning a new playlist is that I feel done with the current one—those songs are a little stale and don’t represent me anymore. These “seasons” don’t have any set length, and I can never predict when I’ll feel like a new being who needs new songs to define her. So far, my life has looked like this:

Deja Vu - 176 days (12.03.16 - 05.28.17) Most common lyrics: now, love, time, need, take

snow that covers ivy that covers bricks, towers made from dining hall dishes, smiling at the bus stop without knowing, sheet masks in the dorm bathroom at 2am, pink string lights and pink crocheted blankets and pink shag carpeting, cheap beer behind tarps and walking everyone home

Roots - 111 days (05.28.17 - 09.16.17) Most common lyrics: love, one, give, wanna, know

t-shirt tan lines, mozzarella and tomato and basil and singed spaghetti, sunset walks around abandoned high schools, green leaves outlined in watercolor, the smell of mildew and old paper in banker’s boxes, sweat-soaked french braids, the knife twist of eye contact, tarot readings under lamplight

Walls - 110 days (09.16.17 - 01.04.18) Most common lyrics: wanna, know, baby, take, feel

crying in the gender-neutral restroom, pretty boys holding guitars or rolling rock, photos in the forest, blue carpeting and lofted bedframes, pitch-black bonfires, sitting in the dining hall to just watch the people pass, snow on eyelashes in large wet clumps, laughing at lies

Bite - 78 days (01.04.18 - 03.23.18) Most common lyrics: know, love, stay, come, need

impatience at the airport, texting on the laundry room floor, nervous night drives, five grilled cheese sandwiches, acne like freckles, ceiling photos taken in secret, watercolor lines and paper houses, broken glass on the sidewalk, ink-stained forearms, notebook paper comics, writing small on basement walls

Windows - 131 days (03.23.18 - 08.01.18) Most common lyrics: love, now, know, baby, fall

books piled up by the bed, rum and coke and orange juice and vodka and cheap white wine, rainy day night walks, streetlights turning the leaves orange, echoes from the party upstairs, solo trips to the grocery store, always leaving the blinds open, aperol and chai lattes and smørrebrød, never coming home

Grip - 136 days (08.01.18 - 12.15.18) Most common lyrics: know, boy, lost, girl, night

read receipts, the creaking of an empty house, sand and bricks and traffic cones, sitting on the curb and shaking, applause at dinner, bubble tea, bike rides in torn jeans, mr brightside blasting at 10am, doodles during lectures, embroidery at the kitchen table, blue bus panic attacks, half an apple for lunch

Wait - 117 days (12.15.18 - 04.11.19) Most common lyrics: heart, want, one, back, know

crying in the lobby, measuring oats by the quarter cup, drunken voice memos, shoes on power lines, another bowl of granola, reading all the lyrics, photos taken with the flash on, sleeping on strange couches, shoeboxes full of photographs, wire catching the sunlight, fifteen minutes of windchill

Wave - 108 days (04.11.19 - 07.28.19) Most common lyrics: wanna, know, now, love, come

dancing on the porch, reading on the roof, tipsy trips to the corner store, silent heavy parlor air, chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting, barred windows and string lights and exit signs, highlighting the important parts, nails tapping on wooden tables, wet wind before the storm, biking straight into the smoke

Home - 178 days (07.28.19 - 01.22.20) Most common lyrics: down, know, now, wanna, think

steep downhill walks, fingertips covered in graphite and lead, blank faces on green walls, forest walkways, hands gripping thighs too tightly, light leaks in darkrooms, the handwriting of strangers, chains trapped between teeth, white words left unread, twirling at the tennis court, yellow becoming blue

Hand - 63 days (01.22.20 - 03.25.20) Most common lyrics: know, time, love, die, back

masking tape messages, laughing four shots in, BiC .07mm HB mechanical pencils slipped into coat cuffs, cheeks blushed with red ink, green floodlights and kissed knuckles, windows fogged from the inside, falling asleep with earbuds in, finger guns and everything in boxes, wedging open locked doors

_______________________________________________________________________

It’s interesting to look back at these playlists altogether, see them as self-contained units, little stories I tell about myself, about the people I used to be. Adding a song to one of these playlists was like making a vow, entering a relationship with a collection of sounds. It’s like I was saying “this song is now a part of me.” I constructed this little world for myself in the space between my ears, and it, in turn, created me.

I really mean it when I say that the first word that floats to the front of my mind becomes the title of whatever playlist I’m making. I never question what the word means, and its meaning always ends up describing that season of my life.

“Roots” became a period of reconnecting with essential pieces of myself I thought I had abandoned.

During “Grip,” I was holding on so tightly to things that had left me ages ago, and I think I knew that, even if I was unable to admit it to myself.

“Wait” revealed itself in two ways: it was a time in which 1.) I felt stagnant and restless, unable to be patient, and 2.) I was forced to grasp with a physical and emotional weight that had been bearing down on me.

The mind is a magical thing—it processes what we refuse to recognize.

Speaking of which, these playlist covers have been driving me up the wall for ages. They’re like nails on a freaking chalkboard for my synesthesia. Is “Bite” a heavily blue playlist? Sure. But is “Home” purple? Is “Grip” pink??? I think the fuck not!

(I could do a whole goddamn blog post on synesthesia, and I might.)

Now that I know how to switch out playlist cover art (can you believe it’s taken me this long to figure out how to do that?), I have decided to issue myself a challenge/project/way to procrastinate actual work I have to do.

I’d like to make a piece of cover art for all of the above playlists. And because I am, to reiterate, insane, I’m setting up some Rules For Creation:

All works must be the same size, on the same type of paper using similar materials (tbd but probably graphite, colored pencil, watercolor, fineliners, and/or collage).

The preliminary sketch for each cover must be created while listening to the playlist.

Each piece can (must?) incorporate the five most common lyrics as listed above because goddammit I did not spend four hours compiling lyrics in a web-based word cloud generator for nothing.

If I’m not having fun, I won’t make myself do it because this is literally just for laffs.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to creating some fun weird art! I know nobody is gonna read this and nobody is gonna comment but if, by some miracle, you feel like it, comment a playlist you’ve made that you’re really proud of! Or comment if you have some weird playlist rules! Or cyberbully me! Anything’s fair game.

TL;DR playlists are fun and I’m a maniac :)

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moeruhoshi · 5 years

Text

getting ready for school so here we go again

I’ve been working on this idea for a while, this is just a rough sketch of an AU I lowkey wanna turn into a multi-chap

Lucy sighed for the umpteenth time as she stared out the window, her mind in another place as the teacher drawled on with the lesson. She found herself zoning out like this often, not because she was under a lot of stress or anything, even though it was her senior year.

Besides, Macao-sensei really knew how to talk about one particular fact for twenty long minutes; most of the class was either avoiding his gaze or finding themselves daydreaming at this point.

It had been about four or so months since the school year started and the foolish, idiotic men of Magnolia High still had an annoying pact set in stone, preventing anyone from asking Lucy Heartfilia out.

Who the hell were they to decide who she would date or not?! And what the hell were they planning to do when Lucy actually started dating someone?

The whole bullshit system practically began as soon as she took her first steps onto campus by a group of third years, and the baton had been passed on ever since. Lucy had yet to find out who was at the center of this weird fan group, but they’d face a world of hurt for ruining her high school life like this.

Not that Lucy had especially wanted a boyfriend, wasn’t it just one of those things a girl wanted to experience at least once with someone before college? Lucy had grown up reading a lot of romantic stories that had her wishing to meet someone who wanted to hold and cherish her for something more than her looks.

Lucy blushed at the thought, but she was a grown woman! Some things couldn’t be solved by reading one of Erza’s novels, no matter how many the blonde was given. Although Lucy was pretty sure she was just shoving them onto her so Jellal wouldn’t find out that Erza had such an extensive collection.

She thought she would be quick to accept her first confession, as long as whoever gave it to her had good intentions. If he was smart enough to ignore this shitty pact then, wouldn’t he be a good person to date? It felt like asking too much for him to be a good looking guy that was slightly muscular and had sharp eyes like a warrior…maybe a bit possessive...Lucy blamed Erza for creating such weird standards held in her heart. But any girl would be excited if a pretty boy were to confess his love for her;

“E-E-Eh…?! Y-You’d really want someone like me…?” She flushes as he takes her hand, eyes earnest and unwavering.

“I’ve loved you for a long time...please...You’re the only one for me,” He pulls her close to his chest as he wraps his arms around her and declares that he’ll never let her go.

Something like that seemed a bit dramatic but so what? It was hard for a guy to even befriend her since the rumor being spread that she was supposedly some perfect angel with an incredibly high standard for friends and men.

Lucy wasn’t anything special, she felt that she was your average teenage girl that had a knack for cooking, studying, and was weak for the occasional visit to a cute café. Lucy and her friends had known each other since primary school, but it wasn’t like we weren’t looking for new additions to their group. As long as you were friendly, could get along properly with Erza, and learned to handle Juvia’s obsessive behavior, then they had no issues befriending anyone.

She’d go over the school's intercom and shout those exact words if she didn’t think it’d make her look somewhat desperate and kind of a pervert.

Lucy wanted a boyfriend. She really wanted a boyfriend! And she had wished intensely for someone kind-hearted to enter her life before leaving this school. A little part of her wanted to make a statement to those jerks that started this, but Lucy honestly just wanted to learn how to fall in love. Didn’t she deserve that much?

“Lucy!” Levy shouted and shocked her out of her thoughts, almost startling her out of her desk.

“A-Ah! Gomen, I was spacing out,” Lucy laughed awkwardly as she finally noticed her friends crowding around her desk.

“That’s the third time Levy called you,” Erza pointed out, hand resting on her hip. “You’re not sick are you?”

“Not at all, I was just daydreaming.” Lucy sweatdropped, glad to stop Erza’s train of thought before she was covering her with an unnecessary amount of bandages and shoved into an infirmary bed.

“Class ended a couple minutes ago, didn’t Lucy-san notice?” Juvia asked, her hands clutching her bag straps nervously as she anticipated their leave.

“Yeah, let’s hurry up Lucy-chan, can’t you see Juvia wants to go stare down her crush before he leaves?” Cana hummed, the rest giggling as the blue-haired girl flinched and began to sweat slightly.

“I-Is Juvia that obvious…?”

“Painfully,” Lucy laughed as she stood from her seat and grabbed ahold of her own bag. “Let’s hurry before you miss him.”

“Heartfillia, McGarden! Don’t forget that you two have classroom duties!” Macao-sensei shouted in their direction, halting the group as they were almost out the door.

“Aww man, Lucy I have a job interview to get to! At that charming bookstore too…” Levy sobbed, eyes dramatic as she looked back over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, Levy-chan. I can cover for both of us,” Lucy rolled her eyes but grabbed her hands with a broad grin. “You really need to get that job so I can get a discount on a crap ton of books.”

“Ah! You’re the best, Lu-chan! I’m taking you out for lunch once I do get it!” The shorter brunette clapped as she ran out the door, rushing away to quickly get to the said establishment.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help? I’d be glad to stay behind with you.” Erza offered with a small smile.

“I can handle it, besides I think the two of you need to make sure Juvia doesn’t jump that poor kohai,” Lucy insisted as the antsy girl whisked herself down the hall just as soon as Levy did, muttering consistently about her precious ‘Gray-sama’.

An hour or so later, Lucy was soon walking downstairs with a sigh of relief. Cleaning the classroom wasn’t terribly hard work, but it always took twice as long with half the staff. She deserved a nice long bubble bath tonight.

As soon as she flipped open her shoe locker open, Lucy could have sworn that her heart had stopped beating for a moment. It was as if time stood still, her eyes frosting over at the sight of a very pink piece of paper.

Her hands trembled as she removed the folded slip of paper from atop her shoes, her breath shaky as she opened and read what had been written. It wasn’t possible…had she finally received a love letter…?

Well, not as much a love letter but someone asking to meet her behind the school near the old willowed sakura tree. Who would ask a girl to meet them there if not to confess their love?!

“O-Oh Mavis…I’m a bit too excited, a-aren’t I?” Lucy gulped as she gripped the straps of her bag, clenching the paper that requested her appearance as she began walking through the courtyard. The blonde nervously skimmed back over the note, sighing happily even with the short amount of words left for.

‘Lucy, I’ll be waiting by the sakura tree for you after school lets out. I hope to see you there. Signed Anonymous’

“W-Wait, after school?!” Lucy gasped, noticing the sun setting slightly and the orange tint to the sky, depicting just how late it had gotten. “It’s already so late! What if he left…?!” She hurried her steps as she rounded the school building, thankful that no one seemed to be around to see her rushing towards the tree with such a red face. As she approached the area, her heart began to sink as she looked around, failing to see another person. The one day she decided to take her sweet time…

Her lip quivered as she stood in front of the sakura tree, sad to find no one sitting or standing against it on either side, the surrounding benches empty, and the courtyard deserted. Lucy felt tears prick the corner of her eyes as she sat reluctantly on the wooden seat, feeling a heavy disappointment in her heart. It wasn’t like she could expect him to wait...after all, she was an hour late.

“E-Eh?! L-L-Lucy-senpai?!” A voice sounded from before her, Lucy quickly raising her head to see who it was. His eyes were wide and his face was red, matching his odd pink hair, sharp onyx eyes cast over her as she rushed to wipe her tears away.

“Y-You are…?” She presumed him to be the boy she was to meet and quickly stood up, her bag falling over as the contents spilled around their feet. Frantic, she dropped to her knees to haphazardly shove her back into her bag, the unnamed boy crouching to help her as well. Their fingers brushed lightly against each other as they both reached for her pencil case, their eyes meeting and their embarrassment growing with heat present in their cheeks. “T-T-Thank you.”

“You...Lucy-senpai, you were crying...are you okay?” He asked, holding out his hand to help her up.

“O-Oh! Yes, I’m fine…!” She tried to convince him, hoping her mascara hadn’t run or instead didn’t want to admit how she was crying because she thought he had left her behind. That was if he was the one who wanted to meet her.

“I’m glad you came, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, I went to get a drink.” He chuckled lightly as he held the bottle of dragon fruit tea up for her to see.

“N-No, I’m sorry I was late, I was doing classroom duties.” She explained, his features lighting up as she said so.

“I’m glad,” He sighed. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

“What did you need to ask me?” Lucy mumbled quietly as she stared down at her feet, attempting to hide her blush.

“I’m Natsu Dragneel, I’m a first-year...but I still wanted to tell you how much I like you...would you do the honor of becoming my girlfriend?” He bowed, voice thick in the air as his question rang in her ears, her cheeks aflame and her heart hammering in her chest.

The wind rushed past the two of them, scattering the petals of the tree and surrounded them as Lucy lifted her head and met the sight of his still bowed form.

“Yes...I will,”

#nalu #nalu fanfiction #nalu teaser #natsu and lucy #lucy and natsu #natsu x lucy #lucy x natsu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu highschool au #fairy tail #fairy tail nalu #nalu fanfic

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needalittlelove · 4 years

Text

Friday 9:15 (Robbe’s POV)

I wake up without Sander next to me, but I feel the soft crinkle of paper under my hand when I reach out towards his side of the bed.

On the front there is a pencil sketch of Sander kissing me on the forehead while I sleep. On the back there is a note, written in his messy, slanted handwriting:

Good morning beautiful!

I had to leave for my appointment with Dr. V. You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up. I hope that you are still free, because I have something special to show you tonight. Wear something nice and be ready to leave at 16:30. I love you!

-Sander

Sander hasn’t left me in bed without an explanation since he unofficially moved in. Nothing beats waking up in his arms, but this is a close second. I open my phone and send a few texts.

To Sander: Good morning cutie. I hope you have a good session with Dr. V. Do I get to know what is happening tonight?

From Sander: Nope. It’s a surprise!

I suddenly remember that Jens had said ‘See you tomorrow night’ when we left the cafe yesterday. I can’t remember the plans that I made with the boys, but I decide to text him.

To Jens: Sorry I can’t hang out with you guys tonight, Sander has a surprise planned for me apparently.

From Jens: No, I know. We are coming too.

To Jens: Really? What is it? Why do you know about it, and I don’t?

From Jens: My lips are sealed…

That’s weird, does everyone know about this mysterious surprise, except me? Why would Sander tell Jens and not me? Maybe Milan knows something as well. I get out of bed, my body creaking in protest. I throw the closest shirt on, it is one of Sander’s. The black one with David Bowie on the front, it is a little big on me but it feels soft against my skin. I walk towards the kitchen, hearing my roommates making coffee.

“Good morning,” Zoe greets with a smile.

“Good morning,” I say, opening the cabinet to grab a mug for tea. “Do any of you know what Sander is planning for tonight?”

“Maybe,” Milan says with a sly smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I groan. “Why do you guys know?”

“Well I was home when he got the news,” Zoe says defensively, earning a stern look from Milan. That look screams for Zoe to stop talking.

“What news, please, someone tell me what is going on!” I whine.

“You will find out in...about...8 hours,” Milan teases, looking at his watch and doing a quick calculation in his head.

“This isn’t fair,” I complain. “I assume that all of you have received an invitation to this mysterious event as well?”

“I wouldn’t call it an invitation actually,” Senne chimes in, laughing. “We more demanded to be allowed to come.”

“I am so confused,” I sigh. “I just don’t understand why he would tell all of you what it is, but not me.”

“I think he is most worried about your reaction to it,” Milan thinks out loud, realizing that he has said too much.

“Seriously Milan! Just tell me, everything you are saying is making me want to know even more,” I pout.

“Nope, I have said too much already. Let yourself be surprised, my son. I promise it will be worth it,” Milan coos, patting my shoulder.

“Oh god. Okay!” I concede.

16:00-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am listening to Sander’s Bowie playlist and reading a book in bed when Milan bursts through my door. “You aren’t getting ready yet!” he asks, incredulously.

“No, should I be?” I ask, rolling my eyes. I have almost gotten used to Milan bursting into my room...almost.

“I guess not, because then you would have had to change anyway,” Milan admits, placing a large shopping bag onto my bed.

“What is this?” I ask, skeptically poking through the bag.

“Your outfit for tonight,” Milan declares. “You will wear those nice dress pants and shoes that you have with it.”

“You’ve been through my closet?” I ask unsurprised, but still a little uncomfortable.

“Only a little,” Milan lies. “Now put it on, I need to see my creation.

“Okay, can I have some privacy?” I ask, walking towards my closet to get the pants and shoes. Milan turns around, his back facing me, giving me the bare minimum of privacy. “Seriously?”

Milan shrugs in response and I decide not to argue with him. I pull a black bomber jacket and a subtly patterned silk button down shirt out of the bag. “Milan, seriously, are you dressing me like you? I don’t want to be matching with you tonight.”

“Don't be absurd,” Milan scoffs. “Don’t worry, I will be wearing a tasteful turtleneck sweater tonight.”

“Okay,” I say skeptically. I get dressed quickly, leaving the tags on. The clothes feel weird and foreign on me, but when I look at myself in the mirror I am surprised by how good it looks. It looks different, but everything fits really well, and I like how the shirt opens showing the silver necklace Sander bought for me.

“Can I look?” Milan screams, not able to contain his excitement. He turns around and looks me up and down. “Yes! Amazing! Perfect...wait…almost. You can’t wear socks with that though, and let me roll your pant legs a little.”

Milan makes a few alterations, tucking in the shirt a little, rolling up the pant legs, clipping the tags off, and finishing by messing up my hair. “Now it’s perfect,” he declares. It all still feels a little weird to me, but I have to agree with him.

“Thanks,” I smile. “Now will you tell me where we are going?”

“No!” Milan yells, offended that I would ask again.

16:30-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ta da! Ladies and gentlemen, behold my creation,” Milan announces to the living room before I walk in behind him.

Milan is wearing a maroon colored turtleneck sweater, his gold earring in his right ear, with black slacks. Zoe is wearing a beautiful dress, with an artistic pattern and an uneven hem line. Senne is wearing a dark blue button down with silver buttons, that complements Zoe’s dress. My eyes meet Sander’s and he looks amazing. His outfit is simple, his charcoal pants, Doc Martens, and a long sleeve button down shirt with a watercolor pattern of blue and grey colors. His shirt is unbuttoned slightly, so I can see the gold twin to my necklace, his cast is almost unnoticeable under his sleeve. When he sees me, a smile spreads across his face and I feel instantly embarrassed, and like I need to change into my normal clothes again.

“You look amazing,” he smiles. My brain tells me that he is making fun of me.

“I hate it,” I blurt. “Its cold, and I feel like everyone can see my nipples.” I can feel my cheeks turning bright red.

“Don’t be silly,” Milan groans. “You look perfect and no one can see your nipples!”

Sander walks across the room and kisses my forehead. “Honestly baby, you look fantastic!”

“Really?”

“Really,” he grins. The look in his eyes makes me calm down again. He grabs my hand and we all walk out of the apartment. We walk to the train station, board a train, and continue walking after it arrives at its destination. My hand never leaves Sander’s. Walking together, with our friends around us, my heart is light and my mind no longer wonders where we are going and what we will be doing when we get there.

17:00-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We arrive at a large gallery about a block away from Sander’s school. According to the signs this is the end of semester showcase for his school. Butterflies start bouncing around my stomach at the thought of finally seeing what he was working on...

Read more on AO3 “You are safe here” by GayBoy99 (Chapter 14)

#wtfock #wtfockseason3 #wtfockfanfiction #sobbe #robander #robbexsander #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #skam #skamily #willem de schryver #willem herbots #sobbe fanfiction

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