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whoopsieintheuniverse · 3 years

Text

Wash Day

Illumi x (gender neutral) reader

Warnings: Awkwardness, Illumi being Illumi

In one of the rare moments of him being out of his room, Milluki was almost ran over by his big brother, Illumi.

“Illu-nii? What are you doing?” Milluki asked.

Illumi stopped and turned on his heel. Milluki noted the stack of hair care products in his arms. Combs, brushes, conditioner, shampoos, and clips were piled high and threatened to spill on the floor.

Illumi blinked and regarded his brother, slightly startled that Milluki was out of his room.

“It’s my wash day. Y/N is washing my hair.”

Milluki scrunched his nose.

“Y/N?” The new butler? Why do you want a butler to wash your hair?” Milluki asked. Illumi shrugged and readjusted his grip on his supplies before walking away.

The Butler’s Quarters was as busy as it normally was. Members of staff came and went on errands, and Y/N noted the rhythmic creaks of the doors as they opened and shut throughout the building. Advancing from an apprentice to a full-fledged butler was a task not many were able to accomplish, and Y/N couldn’t deny the swell of pride in their chest that grew with each passing hour. Y/N was just on their way to make their mid-day rounds when the phone rang. Each butler in the main room looked up on high alert as Gotoh answered the phone; a call from the main house usually meant an immediate order from the Zoldyck family. Y/N held their breath as Gotoh put the phone to his ear.

“Gotoh speaking. Yes, sir. Yes. No, sir, I don’t think that will be a problem at all. I will send them immediately. Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Y/N watched as the phone reconnected with the hook. They turned on their heel to leave, but was stopped by Gotoh’s voice.

“Stop right there. Y/N, you’re needed in the main house. I suggest you hurry,” Gotoh said.

Y/N frowned. Only butlers with seniority were allowed to enter and work in the main house. Gotoh noticed the younger butler’s hesitance and sighed.

“You’ll need to get a move on. I wouldn’t want to keep the family waiting,” Gotoh said.

“Yes, sir! I’m just wondering.... did I do something wrong? Which family member called for me?” Y/N asked. Y/N felt a lump in their throat form as Gotoh’s lips form a stern line across his face.

“Y/N. Please hurry to the main house. Master Illumi is waiting.”

................................................................................................................................

Y/N took a breath as they came to the large door of the main house of the Zoldyck estate. The door loomed over them -- tall, dark, and solid -- and Y/N wondered about the inhabitants. As a new butler, Y/N had never seen their employers, but the power and reputation of the Zoldyck name was enough to instill fear and respect into anyone. Taking another breath, Y/N set their jaw and reached out ang grasped the door knocker.

Sweat beaded down Y/N’s brow as the door opened. The interior was dark, and hesitantly, Y/N stepped in. The foyer was massive, with walls arching and towering over Y/N as they walked further into the house.

“Hello? Master Zoldyck? It’s Y/N. I heard you called for me,” Y/N called out. Footsteps tapped from down the hallway. Y/N froze in their spot; out of the shadows, the hem of a gown grazed the floor. Y/N dropped their gaze to the floor.

“Illumi, dear, are you sure this is the one? They’re just a butler. I’m sure whatever you want can be done without them complicating matters.”

Y/N felt themselves flinch a little at the voice. They had never seen the Zoldyck matriarch, but Y/N had definitely heard stories from their time as an apprentice. It was never a good idea to look at Kikyo without invitation.

“Yes, mother, I’m quite sure.” Y/N closed their eyes. The voice was unmistakable: Illumi Zoldyck. Y/N clenched their fists; what could they have done to attract the attention of the Zoldyck’s oldest son? Y/ ground their teeth, racking their brain through the months of training they had undergone. Had they messed up anywhere? Forgotten manners? Had they overstepped some boundary, crossed some line? Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted by a finger on their chin.

“You’ll look when I’m speaking to you. Did you even hear me?” Illumi asked.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir!” Y/N said, bowing low. They heard a scoff above them.

“Enough of that. Follow me to the washroom.” With that, Y/N watched as Illumi turned on his heel with a swish of hair.

................................................................................................................................

The washroom that Illumi lead Y/N to was massive. Y/N stood and marveled at the design: the centerpiece was a bathtub set deep into the floor, flanked with towels and a glass pitcher. Marble countertops held oils and soaps, and a soft light from overhead bathed the bathroom in a soft, golden glow. As Y/N stood back and took in the sight, their thoughts were interrupted by the sound of running water.

“Are you done looking? I suppose I could wait a little longer, but I am getting impatient,” Illumi said. Y/N watched as he started to unlace his shirt, and quickly looked down as Illumi’s clothes started falling to the floor. Y/N was frozen in place as they heard water slosh in the bathtub.

“On the counter, there’s shampoo and a conditioning oil. Bring it over here.”

“I’m sorry, sir....what exactly am I doing here?”

Illumi turned and looked over his shoulder, a small frown etched on his face.

“Well, at the moment, you’re standing there. You should be bringing the shampoo and conditioning oil, though,” Illumi stated.

Y/N fumbled over to the counter and grabbed the supplies before creeping slowly to the bathtub.

“And now, sir?” they asked.

Illumi said nothing, opting to slide closer to the edge of the tub. One of his arms draped over the side, and the other came up gather his hair in his grip. Y/N watched as Illumi wrung his hair out before tossing it over the edge.

“There you are. You’ll want to condition it first, rinse with cold water, then you can shampoo it,” Illumi said.

Y/N looked at Illumi as if he had gone mad.

Illumi turned around, noticing that Y/N had not moved. He tilted his head and regarded them, the corners of his mouth pulling once again pulling downwards.

“What’s the problem now?” Illumi asked.

Y/N folded their arms across their chest and thrust their chin in the air.

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think this is appropriate. I don’t know why I’m here, and I really don’t know why I’m helping you bathe. I’d like to go, now, sir,” Y/N said.

“I don’t understand what the problem is,” Illumi hummed. “Mother and Father always bathe together.”

“I- Sir! Master and Mistress Zoldyck are married.”

“Yes, they are. What is your point?”

Y/N huffed and ran a hand through their hair.

“Sir. We’re not married.”

Illumi sunk down further into the bath, hair still cascading over the side.

“I’m aware we aren’t married yet, but practicing shouldn’t hurt. Now, if you’re done, I would like my hair washed.”

Y/N shook their head and made their way closer to Illumi. They took his hair in their hands and worked their fingers through it. Then, Y/N took the conditioner and started to massage it into the ends Illumi’s hair. With each pass of Y/N’s hand, Illumi’s body seemed to relax further into the water. Soon, Illumi’s eyes slipped closed, and Y/N worked in silence for about five minutes before their fingers froze on Illumi’s head.

Illumi opened his eyes and huffed.

“Y/N. Why did you stop?” Illumi asked.

Y/N sat frozen; hands still tangled in Illumi’s mane.

“Sir...did you say we weren’t married ‘yet’?”

“Yes. Are you still on that? I thought I made myself perfectly clear. This is all practice for when I do marry you. I wanted to see how it was to bathe with another person, and I have to say, besides you stopping all the time, it isn’t a bad experience. This will probably be a regular occurrence when we’re wed,” Illumi explained.

Y/N retracted their hands and stood up.

“Master Zoldyck, I am a butler! It is my honor to serve you and your family, but this is an entirely different service you’re talking about. I’m not even permitted to have personal relationships per your family’s instructions, so I’m sorry, sir, but-”

“That’s enough,” Illumi interrupted. “I’m courting you and I plan on marrying you. That’s final. Mother’s been hounding me for ages to find a partner. You’ve already proven yourself to be strong enough, and I’m sure with more training you’ll be decent enough as far as Zoldyck standards are. You also don’t piss me off, which is important.”

“But Master Zol-”

Illumi put up a hand to silence Y/N and continued.

“As far as that silly little matter of you being a butler and not allowed relationships, it’s no problem. Don’t even worry about it. I’m taking care of it all, and that includes telling Mother and Father. All you need to worry about is me, really. Now,” Illumi said as he motioned toward the other side of the bath, “Go get the pitcher. I need to rinse.”

Part Two Here: courting-customs

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#reader insert #illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #illumi x y/n #zoldyck #hxh #hxh imagines #hxh x reader #illumi zoldyck x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader

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soft--dragon · 3 years

Text

Mining

Imagine this in an au where no war never happened and Dream was nice to Tommy without manipulating him :) I want my boys to be happy okay I'm soft for them all (I wrote this to help me with Tommy's latest stream cause it ✨h u r t✨ )

Word Count: 2,250

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

This was based on this prompt here I hope you enjoy this ^^

Tommy ran across the flower dotted fields, eyes bright and sword in hand. Dream ran beside him, occasionally glancing at the teen.

"You keeping up okay?" He asked.

"Yeah!" Tommy grinned, though Dream could see he was struggling to breathe.

"You should put the sword in your inventory" Dream advised, "the weight won't slow you down."

"There are mobs Dream" Tommy replied firmly, "I feel safer with it."

"Fair enough" Dream nodded but made sure to slow down a bit so Tommy could keep up.

Tommy had gone to Dream begging him to come along on a mining trip and to tell him about his speedrunning adventures. Dream would've declined but Tommy had seemed so excited by the idea that Dream really couldn't say no to the teen. Besides, he might be able to get to know the kid better. He was still pretty new to the server.

The pair stopped at a river, Dream only slightly out of breath, years of speedrunning training his body for this type of thing. Tommy on the other hand was bent over, hands on his knees as he breathed heavily.

"You gonna be alright?" Dream looked at him, a little concerned.

Tommy nodded again, instantly straightening up to smirk at Dream. "Please, I feel fine! I'm like a running machine, Big D!"

Dream screwed up his nose though he was smiling a little. "Don't call me that."

Tommy laughed, saluting. "Sure thing Big D!"

Dream groaned rolling his eyes. "C'mon, breaks over, we need to head to the cliffs to find a good cavern for resources."

Tommy sighed. "Gimmie a second to catch my breathe would ya? I'd like to live to see Tubbo's birthday."

"A running machine you said? Wouldn't that mean you don't need time to breathe?" Dream teasingly poked Tommy's side.

He didn't expect Tommy to violently flinch away, holding his side as he stared at Dream.

"What the fuck was that for?" He snapped.

Dream blinked. "Sorry, I was just...are you hurt?"

Tommy glared at him, pink starting to dust his cheeks. "I'm fine" he grumbled, "just don't do that."

Dream wanted to ask but refrained. Maybe Tommy had a thing with touch? But he was commonly seen hugging Tubbo and Wilbur...

"Sorry" Dream apologized again then motioned towards the moutain, "shall we continue?"

Tommy nodded, avoiding eye contact. Dream blinked at the lack of a snarky comeback. Was the boy still not comfortable enough around him for contact? Had he overstepped?

Dream pushed the thought aside. He'd spent a few weeks around Tommy, they'd given each other friendly shoves before. He probably just didn't expect the sudden touch.

"C'mon" Dream gently nudged the boy's shoulder, relieved when the boy shoved him back lightly.

They continued up the cliff side, Dream tossing blocks to Tommy whenever he needed them. All the while, Dream kept thinking back to the odd reaction Tommy had had earlier.

He might actually be hurt, the boy was terrible about taking care of himself if the stories Wilbur had told him were any indication.

Dream sighed, mining the dirt in front of him and pulling himself up on a sturdy ledge. They were about half way up the hill. Dream knew there was a trusty cavern close by perfect for mining. The amount of ores in there had barely been unearthed.

Dream looked over the edge where Tommy was climbing.

"How you doing kid?" He called.

"Fantastic!" Tommy sarcastically shouted back, his exhaustion clear in his voice. "How much further to the caven?"

"About five minutes, we'll take a break here" Dream replied.

Tommy grumbled something heaving himself up onto the edge of the grass block. "Fuck-!" He shouted in alarm.

Dream lunged down to grab Tommy's wrist as the boy's foot slipped off the grass block. Tommy gasped, staring up at the older boy.

"Dream! Don't let go!" He yelled, his feet scrambling for a foot hold.

"I'm not going to!" Dream grunted. "Stop moving around so much!"

Tommy forced himself to go slack. Dream yanked his arm up, tossing Tommy directly into his chest, causing him to topple over. They landed in a heap on the ledge, Dream practically hugging the boy to his chest. Tommy seemed equally shaken, gripping Dream's shirt tightly in his fists. The pair took a moment to breathe before Dream carefully pushed Tommy back to study his face.

"Are you alright?" He asked, almost tempted to take off his mask to get a clearer look at the kid.

"F-Fine" Tommy stuttered a bit, glancing over his shoulder at the edge of the cliff.

Yeah, that was bullshit.

Dream sat up, Tommy in his lap and held him at arm length. "Did you slip cause you couldn't get a footing? Or are you hurt? God please don't tell me you're hurt- actually do, I don't want Wilbur to kill me Tommy, are you hurt?"

He was rambling he knew he was but the heart attack he nearly had from almost losing Tommy sent his brain into mother hen mode.

Tommy laughed a little, putting his hand on Dream's mask and shoving him back. "I'm fine Dream, relax."

"I'm being serious Tommy" Dream batted Tommy's hand away. "Are you hurt, yes or no?"

"No" Tommy rolled his eyes, "god, you sound like Wilbur right now."

Dream glared at Tommy behind his mask. "I'm gonna make sure you're not lying."

"Ughhhhh fine" Tommy crossed his arms, pouting like a child.

Dream gently pressed his fingers against Tommy's arms to test for any sore spots, relieved when Tommy didn't react further than an annoyed eye roll.

"Uncross your arms" Dream told him.

Tommy blinked. "What? Why?"

"You might've bruised your ribs when I grabbed you, you hit the dirt pretty hard" Dream explained, "uncross em."

Tommy hesitated then lowered his arms slowly. Dream waited until they were all the way down then carefully moved his fingers around the bones. Tommy flinched and grabbed Dream's hands.

"You did lie to me unbelievable" Dream huffed. "How sore are they?"

Tommy wasn't looking at him, still keeping Dream's hands from touching him again. "I'm not hurt" he insisted, his voice high.

"Bull" Dream retorted, "you literally winced, Tommy just let me help you-"

"It didn't hurt alright?" Tommy finally lifted his head to glare at Dream.

A blush was burning his cheeks and ears, eyes flicking away from Dream's face to the ground.

Dream stared for a second, trying to put the pieces together. Then it clicked.

Oh.

Oh now that was interesting.

Dream smiled a little. "Tommy, if we're gonna do this whole mining thing, we need to trust each other, right?"

Tommy looked at him and nodded.

"Okay, so with that being said, can you let me check to see if you're injured anywhere else?"

Tommy pursed his lips together, eyes dropping from Dream's face to the grass. "F-Fine just don't-"

He cut himself off with a yelp as Dream poked his stomach.

"See!" Dream said, though he was smiling. "I told you that you were hurt!"

"No Dream, it doesn't hurt-" Tommy tried to explain but Dream prodded his stomach repeatedly making him squeak and slap a hand over his mouth.

"Tommy come on now, if you're in this much pain you got to let me know" Dream told him. "How badly does this hurt? Give me a rating from one to ten."

His hands shifted to poke at Tommy's hips. The boy squealed and broke into laughter, trying to shove Dream's hands away.

"Why are you laughing Tommy? This is serious!" Dream said, his grin while hidden by his mask, was evident in his voice.

"Yohohou're tihihihickling mehehe yohohohou jeheherk!" Tommy accused through his stream of giggles.

"Tickling you? I'm not tickling you Tommy I'm trying to see if you're injured!"

"Dreheheam I swehear to gOHOHOHOD!"

Dream glanced down at his hands to see them poking around Tommy's navel. He chuckled.

"Judging by that reaction you must've really hurt yourself here Toms, I'd better stay here to make sure you're not internally bleeding or something."

"No! No no no nohohohoho! Dreheheham!" Tommy squirmed in the older boy's lap, trying to escape the barrage of tickles.

"Hey, no, no getting out of this Tommy, you told me I could check for injuries" Dream pulled Tommy back until the boy was cradled in his arm, Dream's free hand scuttling around Tommy's stomach.

Tommy shook his head, covering his face with one hand while trying to bat Dream's hand away with the other. "Dreheheheheam!"

Dream giggled quietly. The boy was loud and a bit brash sure, but this? God, Dream was gonna remember this forever. He shifted from Tommy's stomach to his sides, where this whole thing really started.

Tommy squirmed, leaning back into Dream's arm as he laughed freely. His hand still covered half of his face, but Dream could see the pink tinge to his ears and cheeks.

Okay, that's was adorable.

Dream eased up a bit, but kept his hand resting on Tommy's stomach. The boy seemed to realise it had stopped about a minute after Dream actually had. He lifted his hand a little to peek out and immediately dropped it back when he saw Dream looking at him.

"That was cute" Dream teased.

"Shut the fuck up" Tommy groaned, "I'm not cute."

"You really are" Dream poked at his cheek making the boy's nose screw up. "Cuteinnit."

"I'll stab you" Tommy threatened.

"How could you stab me if you're too busy laughing?" Dream pinched at Tommy's hips making the boy squeal and break into a fit of giggles.

"Fuck off" Tommy slapped the hands away, drawing his knees to his chest to protect the area.

Dream laughed a little, ruffling Tommy's hair. "You really aren't hurt though?"

"Yeah yeah I'm fine" Tommy huffed.

"If you say so, buuuuut" Dream dragged out the last word. "It would truly be a shame if you injured your feet somehow, imagine that, you wouldn't be able to outrun mobs, maybe I should check they're not hurt too?"

Tommy stared at Dream for a moment then scrambled to get out of Dream's arms.

"C'mere Tommy!" Dream laughed cheerfully, grabbing Tommy in a bear hug and falling back with him.

"Fuck off Dreheham!" Tommy yelled, but giggles were already peppering between his words. "No no no! Let gohoho!"

"Why? I just want to make sure my friend isn't in any pain Toms," Dream told him, rolling over and pinning Tommy to the ground.

"You're just gonna tickle mehehe!" Tommy tried to sit up but Dream's weight kept him down.

"What an accusation! I would never do such a thing in this kind of situation!" Dream pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Now, be a good lad and just stay still while I conduct my analysis."

"Fuck off!" Tommy shot back, a wobbly smile on his face as he felt Dream tug at his shoes. "Dreheheam! Wait wait wait-"

Dream giggled again. He used to this with George and Sapnap all the time. He missed the playful feeling that came with it.

Tommy's shoes dropped from his feet and Dream paused for a moment, hands poised by the arches. Tommy was giggling quietly behind him, the anticipation making him nervous. The silence stretched on for a bit before Tommy finally got brave enough to ask; "Dream?"

Dream instantly skittered his fingers up and down the boy's feet making Tommy throw his head back with a loud shriek, hysteric laughter following.

"NOHOHohoho! Dreheheham!" Tommy squirmed on the dirt, kicking his legs the best he could.

"Damn Tommy I think your feet might actually be more injured than I thought!" Dream exclaimed, "that's okay though, I know some methods to get them back into working order."

Dream then started gently tracing Tommy's toes while his other hand scratched around the soles.

"FuhuHUHUCK! YOHOHOU BIHIHITCH!" Tommy cackled, covering his warm face with his arm, desperately trying to evade Dream's fingers.

"Tommy I told you to stay still! You're not being very cooperative" Dream shook his head.

"FUHUHUHUCK OFF!"

"Hey! I'm trying to help, there's no need to be rude" Dream sped up his fingers pace as punishment.

Tommy seemed to realise this as he immediately backtracked. "I'M SOHOHORRY! DREHEHEHAM PLEHEHEHESE!"

Dream chuckled and stopped his fingers, getting off of Tommy's legs. The boy melted into the grass, child like giggles spilling from his mouth. Dream smiled fondly, sitting cross legged beside the boy.

Tommy eventually calmed down enough to look up at Dream. "Bitch" he said simply, glaring.

Dream laughed. "Sorry couldn't help it" he said. "You good?"

"Yeah" Tommy sat up, tugging his shoes back on. "But you're dead to me."

Dream laughed again, slinging an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Aw come on, you love me really."

"I really, really don't."

Dream pouted then tazed Tommy's side making him yelp, flinching away.

"Hehey!"

Dream snickered and stood, offering a hand to Tommy. "C'mon, we've still got a little bit to go then we'll be at the cavern."

Tommy took his hand, hefting himself up with the older's help. He hesitated then asked, "can you tell me about your first manhunt with four hunters?"

"Yeah sure," Dream smiled, his heart softening when Tommy's eyes lit up. "I think I started it with me slapping Sapnap in the face then making a break for it."

Tommy laughed, listening intently to every word as Dream led the way to the cavern.

#mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #lee!tommyinnit #ler!dream #my fanfic #fanfic #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #mcyt #dsmp

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mysmegrace · 3 years

Note

TW: I read over your rules and I don't think I'm overstepping anything? If I am please feel free to tell me and decline the request! I didn't know if you did ships and I didn't know if r@pe comfort was too nsfw or if it would make you uncomfortable? If that's all ok, could I request Zen x jaehee fic/hcs where the setting is at a party and jaehee disappears for a while and Zen finds her in the middle of getting assaulted... How would he act in the moment? After it? And how would he react to her not wanting any sexual interactions with him and being insecure of her body for a while?

Again, if this makes you uncomfortable I'm so sorry! I'm a sucker for angst but I do know that r@pe comfort isn't for everyone to write!

hello~ i've never written from a certain ship before so i'm not sure how good at it i'll be, but i'll give it a shot lol. i wouldn't say you're overstepping my wishes, i just don't write vivid descriptions and lemons. i'm fine with writing this, thank you for being considerate.

tw: mentions and implications of r4pe, assault, drinking.

words: 1.3k

Please, Cry - Zen x Jaehee

---

"it's just a party" he said.

"it would help to loosen up a bit" he said.

jaehee should've just listened to her gut, she thought, now surrounded by unfamiliar men. who were they? she couldn't tell. maybe it was the masks covering the lower half of their face or the alcohol blurring her vision, neither were invited right now.

these weren't the men zen had talked about earlier. he said they were respectful, polite men. he even went as far as to show her a picture of them beforehand, attempting to calm her nerves. though she would admit it worked, she could've sworn they weren't the same people.

their hair was styled to the side, excluding the one bald. none of them wore glasses. none of them were under 5'7. they couldn't possibly be the same.

did zen lie to her..? she worried all while attempting to fight back against their pushes and pulls all throughout her body. she had grown too weak. there was no use anymore.

she couldn't help but to give up, having the mentality to just accept it. her presence downstairs, or rather- lack thereof, didn't do unnoticed.

zen had been looking for her while the clock hit the quarter after mark. washroom breaks didn't take 25 minutes, he thought, continuing to search the house. yet after searching every corner and cabinet, he felt lost.

what if something happened to her? he couldn't help but jump to the worst scenarios. there was nowhere else to be searched, besides the upstairs bedroom- the one everyone was told explicitly to stay out of. had she ran off? was she not happy with him? did she get kidnapped?

nothing was looking good at this point. he needed to check the upstairs bedroom just to make sure she wasn't lost. he left the common area to search for the home owner.

where was he though? zen couldn't find him anywhere. surely, they wouldn't notice if he checked in the room for just a second, he thought. hence why he started creeping up towards the room, looking around carefully for anyone in sight.

the creek of the door opening didn't help his case, as he took notice of it once entering. his attention wasn't taken by the sound for very long once he noticed a woman held down on the bed. she was clearly intoxicated, and she clearly wasn't consenting in any manner.

he looked the woman up and down for no more than a second, looking for any way to recognize her. her shoes caught his eye. they were jaehees...it was his woman on the bed.

all hell broke loose. subtly taking out his phone, he called 911 while confronting the three men. one being the home owner, he seemed like the leader in this case. yet who were the other two.. he thought.

that didn't matter in this moment. he was enraged. quickly pulling jaehee up to her feet, he began to argue between the trio. their words weren't comprehensible, but anyone could tell they were full of hate.

looking to his side to check up on his love, her frightened eyes stared directly at him. he had been scaring her.. he realized. no more words were spoken towards the men, at least until the cops showed up.

by surprise, they didn't take long to arrive. he lived by a police station after all. zen just watched in disbelief as the trio got arrested before his eyes. while taken away in handcuffs, he still hadn't felt it was enough.

a sniffle rang through his ear, his priority shifted once again. jaehee was standing right beside him with an expression he couldn't read. she was shaking, her eyes even doing so. she looked petrified, but when trying to talk to her, he could tell she wasn't able to put her words together.

the questioning went by like a flash. after explaining the series of events, they were free to leave. and thankfully so, jaehee needed rest. he could deal with the guys later, tonight would be spent watching over her.

paying the taxi fee, they arrived home. he quickly left to the washroom, while jaehee fell to the couch. her mind was in overload. so much was happening in so little time. as her head met the fluffy cushion, her eyes flew shut.

she was only greeted with an overwhelming headache and sense of dread the next morning. knowingly hungover, her mind quickly recalled the entirety of the previous night.

it was a feeling she had never experienced. no one dared to hurt her so deeply before. this was a new kind of pain. yet she couldn't bring herself to cry. she couldn't shed any tears over the event. and for once in her life, she actually wanted to cry.

crying would reassure her that she survived, that she's still alive. that she wasn't completely broken, and the men wouldn't permeate themselves in her mind. yet, she couldn't feel the saltiness from her tears seep in her cheeks.

zen was woken up not long after, his natural body alarm raising him from his previous laying position. he was met with her sitting figure, blankets cuddling her carefully, staring at the mattress before her.

"how are you?" he asked, his worry prevalent. it took a minute for her to talk, which zen sat patiently for, before she responded "i don't know".

he didn't respond, just reached to hug her. her body went into fight or flight, as she ripped herself away from him. as much as she loved him, she couldn't stand to be touched right now or even have the thought of being intimate in any form.

he was taken aback, quickly asking "are you okay jagiya?". she slightly panicked, knowing she probably hurt his feelings. "i'm fine zen, i just can't stand to be touched right now, or for a while" she answered, quick to explain her actions.

"ohh" she heard, as he realized what had happened. "that's okay, i understand" he said, backing away out of respect. it comforted her.

though he couldn't lie, he felt guilty for her acting like this. it was his idea to go to the party, even encouraging her to join him. he didn't know who the other two men were, but the home owner was someone he had known to be polite.

of course, that wasn't the case. his trust had been twisted and turned. "i'm sorry" he said. he couldn't help but apologize. "no zen, it's not your fault, i just" she said, drifting off at the end.

she couldn't find the words to let out. now more than ever, she wanted to break down. it felt needed to. it would provide her with a sense of closure.

almost like she could grieve properly, before moving on. zen noticed her downward look, the way she stared through the sheets. "please sweetheart, tell me what's wrong" he said.

she took a breath, almost as if she was waiting for something. "i... need to cry" she let out. hearing a confused sound come from the man beside her, she continued "i need to let it out".

"then please jagiya, cry. it's okay to cry" he said. she looked up at him, feeling a faint burning from behind her eye balls. "i can't zen" she responded with a weak voice, as soft as the comforter on top of her.

"please, cry" he pleaded. "cry, find it within yourself to cry, i know you can sweetie". she didn't know if it was her hard efforts or the voice of her lover, but she could feel the drops of water start to meet her skin.

slowly, but surely, she was crying. it felt good. it felt comforting. she could mourn how she was treated that night by natures giving. "yes, good job" his soft voice rang through her ears.

"it will be alright, everything will be alright. i swear on my life, i will get you justice. i will protect you" he said, as he passed her crying state a tissue.

---

21:10 AST - 09/29/21

#mystic messenger #mysme zen #mysme #mysme fanfic #zen #zen x jaehee #hyun ryu #jaehee kang #jaehee

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wri0thesley · 4 years

Text

Forever- Vampire!Lisa Lisa x Fem!Reader (Kinktober Day #16: Biting)

NSFW. 18+ ONLY. AFAB reader. Fem pronouns. Vampire Lisa Lisa, biting, blood, possible dub-con/hypnosis (your mileage may vary depending on how you read it - i think of this all as entirely consensual).

You are in search of the Lady of the Island.

The man steering the boat had not wanted to take you out to Air Supplena Island. He had been most insistent of the fact that the moment your feet touched solid ground on the island, he would be turning back - his mouth had set in a grim line, his eyes shadowed.

“I ain’t gonna be responsible for her findin’ me trespassing on her land,” he’d said. “N’ if you ask me, you’re a damn fool to be goin’ no matter what.”

You had still tipped him, of course. He had been the only man with a boat who’d been willing to even make the trip, as little time as he would spend on Air Supplena Island’s shore notwithstanding. You had sat in his boat with your hands folded in your lap and your posture ramrod-straight, anxiety gnawing through to your bones; but you would not rest. You would not turn back. You had followed the legends and the whispers of who the lady of the island was for too long and tried too hard to waste all of your hard work because your fear held you back at the last moment.

You step off his boat and onto the island proper with your purse significantly lighter and evening filtering out the last vestiges of the day’s sunlight. You turn to thank the man who brought you here, feeling unsteady and afraid - to see that he has turned around with a second glance at you.

He thinks you are mad, and perhaps you are.

You are slow as you approach the buildings themselves, aware that night is falling all around you. All of this, from one brief encounter in a warm speakeasy and a beautiful woman at your side?

She had kissed you, once, and you had tasted danger on her lips and felt it when her hands had caressed the shape of you in your ugly dress. The entirety of the world had seemed to stop - everything had become unimportant to you, except her lips and the way her eyes seemed to shift ruby tones in the low candlelight. You had been dragged here by the young lady you had been hired to be the ladies companion of; whilst her parents had clearly thought you’d be a good influence on her, they had also not reckoned on the wild streak in her nature.

So you had been dragged along to all kinds of seedy underground places she should not have known about. You had always stayed in the background, watched, tried to make sure she did not get into too much trouble, waiting to intervene just in case she overstepped that small boundary. But it had been in a smoky underground cavern in Paris (“The fashion capital of the world!” Your charge and companion had told you. “You simply must wear something more fetching than that old thing.” You had not acquiesced.) that had changed you forever.

“Come find me,” she’d breathed against your neck, and you had felt something sharp scratch briefly across the join where your neck and shoulder met. “You could be so much more than this. I’ll show you.”

And she had gone, and you had not been able to shake her lips from your mind for months.

Your companion had noticed but thought it prudent not to say anything; even in the free-spirited nineteen thirties, she was not quite ready to accept that she had seen your eyes glaze and your mouth part for another woman. But she had noticed your distraction; that you were less hard on her for going against her parent’s wishes, that you were wistful and maudlin and daydreaming about the night - eventually, she had taken pity on you and come to you to relieve you of your service with an early pay packet of far more than you’d expected.

“I went back,” she said, off-handedly, though her shoulders were tense. “To that seedy little place in Paris. They told me her name was Lisa Lisa - the lady of yours. They called her the Lady of the Island, though I don’t know which one. She’s Italian, apparently - or she makes her home there, now. Don’t ask me anything else. I don’t know it.”

You’d looked at her, slowly, some of your lethargy fading away as you’d felt a hum beneath your skin of promise.

“Thank you,” you’d said - and you’d left the next day for Italy.

It had not been easy. Though your purse was heavy with your payment for a year spent travelling Europe, you were aware that you were plain and simple and prime victim material for shoplifters and men of opportunity. You had stayed in lodgings that were out of the way, perhaps shoddier than what you could and should have afforded, giving them all the same story; you were in search of an older brother who had ran away and had last been seen in the company of a lady that he called the ‘Lady of the Island’.

You did not get your first bite until you had found yourself in Venice, in a small art shop by a canal. The piece itself was of an island, all gothic cathedral imagery and towering columns; you’d been looking at it, and the proprietor and artist had come to stand beside you.

“That’s Air Supplena Island,” he had said to you, obviously able to tell that you were not a local. “They say that the Lady of the Island lives there and slaughters anyone who comes close.” He had shrugged broad shoulders. “I don’t believe it myself, but people will cling to their stories, won’t they?”

You’d beseeched him to tell you more, trotting out that tired old story - that you had become tired of telling, as weeks had grown into months - and his nose had wrinkled, brows drawn down.

“Oh, the Lady of the Island isn’t interested in men,” he’d said, and the stress he’d put on the last word had convinced you that you were on the right track. You had done your best to tamp down enthusiasm as you’d asked and probed about Air Supplena Island - and as you left, you hid your smile behind your hand as you’d bid the man a good night.

You had wanted to employ somebody to take you to the Island as soon as you could, but you had done your best to be sensible. You asked around a little more, probing for information about this Lady - having your suspicions of her legend confirmed.

“They say that she bathes in the blood of virgins,” one older woman had told you. “They say that she will drink a man dry if he so much as breathes in her presence,” - another. “They say that the buildings on her land are made of bones and teeth.”

They confirm what you had thought; that the woman you met in the smoky jazz and the press of bodies is something more than human. The idea should fill you with fear. You should have gotten as far away from Italy as you could; instead, the thought of her inhumanity sets heat aflame between your thighs and makes your heart hammer in your chest.

If she kills you, you think, you will die happy. At least you won’t dream about her any more - the silky sweep of her hair, the curve of her lips, pinpricks sliding into the soft flesh of your thighs. Your shoes sound very loud on the stone, as shadows begin to claim the island entirely. You continue to walk.

You imagine you hear whispers, rustling, the sound of shadows converging and waiting to be told to jump upon you and consume you entirely - still, you walk. And when the foreboding wooden doors that you think give entrance to the vast majority of the building that dominates Air Supplena Island open as if by unseen forces, you do not question yourself - you walk forward, into the entrance hall.

“I thought you’d come.”

The voice is amused. It is low, and deep - shivering with suggestion in every syllable. You recognise it as the same voice that has haunted your dreams since the first time you heard it. You stop where you are, transfixed as she seems to melt from the shadows, just as beautiful and statuesque as you remember. Her skin seems to shimmer like mother of pearl in the moonlight; her lips are redder than blood, her eyes dark and beautiful. She looks at you and smiles, and you see the faintest flash of sharp eye teeth - and immediately, a rush of confusing feelings tumblr all around inside you.

She’s beautiful. She’s terrifying. You know the rumours are true, from her easy stance and her elegance and how she looks at you like a cat stalking a canary - but you cannot find it in yourself to be afraid. Instead, you feel your thighs slick with desire and your body ache to be touched. If she wished to bathe in your blood . . . you think you would open your veins for her. All she need do is ask.

She steps towards you like a leopard hunting her prey, though you have no intention of running anywhere. Her hips move seductively with each step, her eyes not moving from you for a moment - you take in a deep, shuddering breath as she gets closer and closer to you, waiting for her to pounce. You imagine you’ll see your own neck snap as if from very far away - you wonder if the man who brought you here on his boat is even now laughing at your terrible fate.

“Oh,” she breathes, as she gets closer. “Look at you. You found me all on your own, hmm? I knew that you’d be a perfect choice.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask her, softly. She stops in front of you, raising a hand to your face - her thumb ghosts your cheekbone, traces the lines of your lips, and all you can do is let her. Everywhere she touches you feel trails of fire spring up in her wake, your body singing in a way that you don’t think it ever has.

“If I were going to do that, dear heart,” she whispers, “you would have been dead before you step foot on my island.”

You swallow as she tips your face upwards, studying you in the pale moonlight. You wonder if you’re pleasing to her - the thought makes you feel curiously hot and bothered. You have never put much stock in your appearance, but if it has helped to win her attentions . . . surely you cannot be that unfortunate to look upon?

She laughs as if she can read your mind.

“You’re extremely pleasing,” she says - and then, she kisses you.

Lisa Lisa - she gives you her name like a secret, and you whisper it against the cool marble of her collarbone, marvelling at how it rolls around in your mouth - has you in her chambers in what feels like moments, though you know it must be longer. Her fingers dance over your skin, working open the buttons and hooks of your plain dress - when it falls from your body, you want to pull yourself in and shy away, but she is above you on the bed and she sighs against you, her breath cool.

“Look at you, little flower,” she murmurs. “You’re beautiful. Ripe for the plucking.”

Her nails scratch sharp across your sides as she caresses the curve and dip of your hips and waist. Her hands take hold of your breasts, testing their warmth and weight, squeezing them so that your back arches and a soft noise of surprise escapes you. She bends her head and the sheet of her hair falls across your skin, a silky sweep that has goosebumps rising along your newly bared flesh.

Her mouth fastens about one nipple, her tongue teasing the nubs to hardness. You have only ever touched yourself under sacrosanct cover of darkness, chaste and afraid - but Lisa Lisa is not at all shamed by how she enjoys your body. She holds you as if it’s perfectly natural to do so, and though you feel exposed, you also feel . . . beautiful. Like something precious to be held against her and kissed and stroked.

“You’ll do beautifully,” she whispers, moving her mouth from your breast to kiss up your collarbones, to trace the fluttering pulse point in your neck. She traces your jawline with her lips, up to your ear - you gasp as she nips at your earlobe. “Oh, you were wasted anywhere but by my side.”

“What will you do to me?” You ask her, breathlessly, as she rears up onto her knees and reaches to tug off her own clothes. You are transfixed by her figure, slowly revealed to you beneath the fine fabrics she’s wearing. She’s like a Greek statue - marble, untouchable, unmarked. Only . . . she takes your hands, brings them to her hips, lets you feel how smooth and cool and soft she is.

“Nothing you won’t like,” she says - and as she dives back down to kiss you again with the hunger of someone who’s been starved for a week, you do not doubt her.

As she kisses you, nipping with her blunt front teeth at your lower lip, her hands urge your thighs apart. You feel ashamed to spread them - especially as you hear the wet sounds of them parting - but she breaks the kiss to inhale deeply.

“I forget, that mortals are so warm,” she says, as one of her hands slides up your inner thigh, nails teasing at the sensitive skin. “You’re boiling to the touch, my darling. You’re hot and warm and soaking wet - did you know?” The last words are conversational, her middle finger swiping through your damp slit, briefly parting your labia lips as your hips arch and a whimper falls unbidden from your lips.

“I haven’t done this before . . .” You say, your cheeks uncomfortably warm - and Lisa Lisa laughs, a rich, deep noise that feels like black silk running down your spine.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she tells you. “I’ve done this many times - and you’ll have plenty of time to learn it too. For now . . . relax, dearest. Lay back on the bed. Let me take care of you.”

There’s a sharp edge to the words; even as you let yourself relax into the soft coverlets beneath you, you feel like she is asking for permission for more than she lets on. Still - you cannot think, at this moment, what you would deny her. Not as she spreads your thighs even wider, those same nails scratching at your skin so your spine prickles, her fingertips leaving blazing trails despite how cool they feel against you.

She makes sweet, soft noises - like placating a baby animal - as your thighs jump as she parts the lips of your sex, exposing those slickened folds to the chill of the air.

“Look at you,” she says, enthralled. “Oh, I have picked beautifully--”

You do not know what she means, when she speaks of choosing you. But her fingers are stroking your folds, now - teasing at your clit and your entrance, making your entire body sing, and you cannot concentrate on anything but how that feels and the way that the fabric beneath your fingers bunches up as you fist hands into sheets.

You are sensitive. Your body reacts with shivers and shudders; little electrical currents going straight from the place between your legs to every other part of you, sending signals of white-hot pleasure to your brain. As she slides one elegant finger inside you and your sex clamps tightly about her, she laughs a noise of soft amusement.

“We’ll train you to take more, my dear,” she says, and she pumps the lone finger in and out of you, rubbing against sensitive patches inside of you that have your hips wriggling. You’re aware that you are making little noises - whimpering and moaning, gasping out noises intended to be words. Her lips are a dark red curve in the white of her face. Her thumb swipes across your clit, rolling the bud beneath the pad, toying with the swollen little bundle until you whine.

“You’ll take another,” she says, softly, and you nod - a sob bubbles in your throat at the brief stretch of two, scissoring you open and wider for her - but it quickly devolves into a groan as your hips cant forwards towards her, urging her to be more thorough in how she’s thrusting the fingers and and out of you. She makes a little chastising noise, clicking her tongue - but you can hear the pleasure in her tone as she murmurs. “Now, now. One thing at a time.”

It’s good. It’s so good. The way her thumb grinds against your clit, the way that her fingers rub against those sweet spots inside of you, the feeling of fullness and the sweep of her hair and the knowledge of who it is and what she is that’s making you feel like this . . . Your body seems to seize up, teetering on the edge of something - and, abruptly, fingers are pulled out of you and the pressure on your clit ceases. You whimper out a noise of confusion and distress; that you were so close to something wonderful, and had it torn away--

“One more thing, before I let you come,” Lisa Lisa says, her lips that perfect red curve again. “Creatures like me do not do things for free, you see.”

“I’ll do it,” you say, feverishly - her index finger lazily strokes your folds, toying with your clit in a way that makes you shudder and your head feel cloudy and strange. “Wh-whatever it is . . .”

Lisa Lisa leans down, kissing the mound of your sex. Your back arches as her tongue flicks out, briefly darting to taste you. She makes a noise of sheer pleasure at the wetness on her tongue that intensifies the ache inside of you and makes you feel as if a curtain is descending all over your judgement. Slowly, she laps at you again - her tongue rolling your clit luxuriously, slow rocks of pleasure overwhelming you.

“You’d agree before hearing my terms?” She says, though she does not sound at all surprised - if anything, her tone is pleased. “You’d trust me so completely, even knowing what I am?”

She does not tell you what she is. She hasn’t - you have known since far before you stepped foot onto her island, and perhaps even before you’d made it to Italy. She knows that you know.

“You can have my blood,” you tell her, wildly, without thinking. “Just, please--”

She pulls back again. Her body moves over you like a cat once more, so that her face is close to yours and her cool breath brushes your cheek. Her breasts press against your own, one marble-smooth thigh between your own legs.

“I want more than blood from you,” she says. “I want you to stay with me, here. Forever.” Her hands trace your hips, cold as she grasps you. “You deserve more than a boring little life and a boring little husband. I can make you a Goddess, my darling. I can make you feared and loved and reviled; I can make you like me. I can give you a life by my side.” She lowers her mouth, pressing her lips to your cheek. Your entire body feels like stone.

“You already knew what I wanted from you, didn’t you, my clever girl?” Hands sliding over your thighs, her body moving. Your legs spread wider, urging her hand and her fingers back between them. She laughs, like a bell tolling. “You’ve known since you walked into my home.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes. To all of it.”

(You have known, this whole time - since those first words and the promise you were made for better things than this. It had taken her touching you and feeling you and driving you to the brink of release to see it clearly, but now you can - you can see you by her side for eternity.)

“My good girl,” she breathes - and, as her fingers dive inside you again, three pressing against the walls of your sex and clenching around her, her thumb grinds back into your clit. Her fangs slide into your throat.

Both of them feel like fireworks in entirely different ways - low between your thighs, like a man diving into the sea, your body all flaming hot wetness as a tidal wave of heat and need crash over you. In your throat, an explosion of colours and sounds as your head is tipped back and you feel the wetness and heat of your own blood cascade down your body. The rhythmic sucking of Lisa Lisa’s lips against you coupled with the rhythmic way she rocks her fingers into you.

You let your eyes close, the sensations wash over you. It’s the first of many, she said. The first day of the rest of your life.

The two of you have an eternity now, after all.

#writing #kinktober collection #lisa lisa #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjba #blood for ts #vampires #biting #dub con for ts #hypnosis for ts

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beetlebumxo · 4 years

Text

Can I Drive You Home?

Pairing: Damon Albarn (90s) x Reader

Word Count: 1,908

Warnings: some sexual tension, some language

A/N: Not sure if this qualifies as an AU, but for this story Damon is a musician, but he isn't famous, yet. This is set before cellphones and, Damon still has his driver's license.

****

I sat at the bar, choking down my rather stiff drink. I wasn't even supposed to be here. My friend only brought me here, because she didn't want to come alone. I stared into my drink, trying to find a way out of this. I let out a heavy sigh, quickly inhaling and exhaling the warm, smoky air that surrounded me.

Suddenly I heard a voice. "Cheers.." I looked over and saw the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. His eyes caught the light for a second, they were a beautiful shade of blue and his nose was absolutely perfect. His dark blonde fringe hung low in his eyes, accented by his deep blue t-shirt. His jeans hung so perfectly off his slightly lanky body.

I watched him try to balance three large pints of beer between his hands and arms. In his haste, he bumped me, spilling a small amount of liquid on my arm.

"Oh, sorry, love.. did I get ya?" He asked.

"Oh, it's just a small spill, I'm quite alright." I replied.

"Well, alright." He said with a wink.

I watched him walk back to his table, where he joined two other men, about his age. I was definitely attracted to him.

Time passed, the same bright eyed boy came back to the bar. "Oi, another round..!' He motioned to the barmaid with a playful wink. I was pretty sure he gave everyone that wink, now.

"Hey, it's you again.." he said, turning over to me. "By yourself?" He questioned.

Heat began to rise in my cheeks. "Um.. Oh, I'm not alone.. I got dragged here." I said, pointing to the corner where my friend was chatting with another eligible bachelor.

"But.. want to know a secret of mine?" I tried my best to flirt. "I don't really want to be here." I whispered with a slight smile. Damon leaned his elbow up against the bar, with an intrigued look on his face.

"Well.. want to know a secret of mine..?" He smirked, "Those blokes over there?" He pointed over his shoulder. "They're actually kind of boring.." He whispered back. I chuckled at his response.

"Would'ya wanna head out, maybe get some air?" He continued.

"Well, I don't even know your name for one ...." I replied.

"Oh, my manners, yeah…. Damon.."

He brought his hand out to shake mine. I looked down, his hands were so large and beautiful. My hand felt so small in his grip.

"Well, Damon, I'm Y/N".

"Well, Y/N, what do you say?".

"Oh..um.. maybe for a moment, sure."

Normally, I would never have left a bar with a stranger. He could have very easily been a creep, but there was something so warm and charming about him. I suppose I just had a thing for slightly effeminate, British boys. I wasn't really doing anything else in this shitty bar. I might as well find some kind of adventure, I thought.

I hopped off of my barstool and went to grab my coat. Damon already managed to find his brown suede jacket, it looked absolutely perfect on him. He signaled to his table that he was heading out. I didn't see my friend anywhere, but knowing her, she was probably too busy to care.

The cool autumn air hit my face the moment I opened the door. It was refreshing, and I could definitely breathe a little easier outside. "Hold on, mind if I smoke?" Damon asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket. "Oh, please, go ahead." I said. He offered me one, but just laughed and shook my head. He slowly brought the cigarette up to his lips and lit it. "Want to go for a quick walk?" I asked. Damon nodded.

The streets were lined with cozy little restaurants and antique shops. I had forgotten what nice little town this was. "It's kind of nice out here.... the cold.." Damon began, holding the cigarette between his teeth as he spoke. "and these little shops and all." He motioned, pointing to one of the stores. I found myself completely distracted by his beauty again. His nose was very straight, but angled at the right places. His eyes were so soft and blue. His hair was slightly messy, making him look so boyishly handsome.

"So.. you know why I was at that bar. What about you?" I asked. "I know your friends were boring but.." I pressed, as I tried to keep up with his pace.

"Well.." he ran his hand through his hair, looking slightly embarrassed. "I just came out of a relationship and.. the boys wanted to get me out."

"Oh.. I'm terribly sorry." I didn't know what to say. But, maybe I actually had a chance.

"Yeah, but, it's better this way.. right? I mean, I keep telling myself that." he tried to force a smile. I really wanted to touch him, but I didn't want to overstep my bounds. I looked over and suddenly the idea came to me.

"Hey, mind if I.." My fingers slightly brushed his as I reached for his cigarette, my cheeks flushed again.

"Changed your mind, eh?" he smirked. I grabbed the thin white stick from between his long, beautiful fingers. I studied his hands this time, every vein, every crease. I absolutely loved his hands. His eyes were on me again, intensely watching as I wrapped my lips around his cigarette. I took one long drag and let it out. I swear I could almost taste him on that cigarette. I shook my head trying to forget the feelings I had. I had only just met him, how could I feel this way? But, the way he was studying me made me wonder if he felt this way, too.

His face looked so delicate in the soft glow of the streetlights. His long brown coat clung to his broad shoulders. I couldn't quite tell if he was actually lanky or slightly toned underneath all of that fabric. But, I wanted to find out. "No." I told myself. I need to shake these thoughts from my mind.

We sat down on a nearby bench, his legs were spread wide, I couldn't help but look at him. I crossed my legs and moved over a bit to give him some more room. His hand brushed up against my thigh as he settled down on the bench. I tried to ignore the slight warmth that I now felt in my stomach.

"So.. tell me more about Miss Y/N." He asked.

"Well, not much to tell. I'll be finished with university soon.. I'm studying music theory.."

Damon's eyes grew wide, "Really.." he replied with childlike enthusiasm. "Well, I play piano.. some guitar... bit of a songwriter too, I suppose…" He chuckled softly.

"So, do you find it hard to write a song?" I asked. He was staring at me again.

"No, not really.. not when you're.." he paused looking down at his feet, he continued as he brought his eyes directly back up to mine. "... inspired."

I felt a little flustered by his stare. There was a clear, almost sexual tension between us, now. He could be so soft yet so intense all in the same moment. My heart began to beat fast, and my hands began to sweat.

Damon had completely captivated me in a matter of the three hours I spent in his presence. I knew this was crazy, completely and utterly insane, but I couldn't stop the thoughts in my head. I diverted my eyes from his stare.

I suddenly caught a glimpse of my wrist. "Oh shit...it's 1am?" I sighed, breaking the tension between us. I had completely lost track of time. Last call was at 12:30. I had also surely missed my ride home. My flatmate didn't even come to look for me, we hadn't even wandered that far from the bar. I should have guessed that she was likely too busy with another one of her potential suitors.

Damon sensed my frustration. "Look, can I drive you home? Or-or...anywhere you want to go right now, Y/N?" His cute little stutter was almost too much for me.

Damon reached out and placed his hand over mine. His skin was so soft, with a tinge of sweat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so forward before. It's just.. " he paused. "...you're very beautiful.. and-and I didn't really want this night to end."

I sat there frozen, his hand was still pressed against mine. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol in my system or maybe that my mind just couldn't take it anymore. I leaned in, gently placing a kiss on his cigarette stained lips. It was everything I had hoped it would be.

As I pulled away, I could see Damon was starting to smile. His cheeks now flushed with color.

"I.. I'm.. Damon, I.." I began, but he suddenly pressed his long finger against my lips. "Shh.." he chuckled softly.

We stared at each other for a moment, lost in what had just happened. I knew I had gone too far. It was stupid letting my emotions control me. I knew relatively nothing about him, it absolutely had to be the alcohol. I wasn't sure how many he had exactly, but he seemed rather sober at the moment. Damon let out a heavy sigh.

"I really like you, Y/N." He began. "You're.....different.." He put his cigarette out on the ground, lightly stepping on it until the small flame disappeared. "It's late, I'm sure you have to go home. I probably should go, too. Listen, can I call you tomorrow?"

I nodded and searched for a pen and paper in my purse. "Shit…" I said, as I only came up with a pen. Damon handed me his box of cigarettes. "Well, it's as good a paper as any, right?" He said. I pressed the pen into the light cardboard of the box, hoping my print was legible enough for him. I laughed and thought how ridiculous this situation was, meeting this incredible boy, sharing a kiss, then ending the night scrawling my number onto his cigarette box. It was so absurd; Of course, I still had to get home.

"Can I take you home or at the very least call you a cab?" Damon asked with a bit of concern in his voice. I know it was stupid, but I agreed for him to drive me back to my flat. His car smelled of him -a sweet smell from his suede coat, the smoky cigarettes, a little bit cologne. As we got up to my flat, I grabbed his hand and thanked him for a night I would not soon forget.

"Thank you, Damon.." I said as I squeezed his hand. I turned to leave, but he suddenly got out of the car and opened my door. He was such a gentleman. "I'll call you tomorrow, love." He said with a look of longing in his eyes.

He walked back to his side of the car, got in and slowly shut the door. I watched as the light inside of the car faded, and his face disappeared into the darkness. I walked upstairs to my flat and turned the key. I knew whoever let him go was a fool, but I was also thankful, as this was possibly the start of something beautiful.

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mashtonasfuck · 4 years

Text

Eyes Open

based on this anon message.

calum hood x reader (x ashton irwin)

warnings: smut, masturbation

word count: 1.2k

okay, so apparently I have no self-resolve at all, and what was supposed to be a 600 word blurb is now a 1.2k oneshot. I tried really hard to keep this gender neutral and it’s my first time writing anything reader insert. I hope you like it anon - this was so much fun! As there always seems to be when I write cashton, this contains smut! (Also, there may be a part 2 on the horizon)

You can find my masterlist here

This work must not be reposted anywhere - I do not give my permission for it to appear anywhere other than on my blog, or on my ao3 page.

——————————————————————————

“Baby, Ash is about to call.”

Calum’s words were muffled against your neck as you rode his thigh, knot building in the pit of your stomach.

You whimpered as he pulled away from marking you up and moved his hands down to your hips to still your movement, wrecking your orgasm. You whined as he went to push you away, clinging onto him as his computer received the call from Ashton. Calum sighed before wrapping an arm around your waist and reaching across his desk to tap the answer button. Ashton’s face filled the screen, the drummer groaning as he saw you perched on Calum’s lap.

“I swear to god, you two better not be fucking right now.”

Calum laughed at Ashton’s before replying -

“Nah, that was earlier mate - were you looking for a show?”

Ashton huffed at Calum’s words, a light flush covering his complexion. Calum raised an eyebrow at the older man on the screen as he shifted in his seat. Your boyfriend smirked, tapping on your leg and gesturing to Ashton keeping his voice low.

“You wanna give Ashton a show, baby? Wanna show him how pretty you look when you cum?”

You glanced at the computer screen before nodding at Calum and he grinned, turning you around to face Ashton. The drummer threw you a confused look and you smiled shyly at him.

“Ashton,” your boyfriend’s voice was firm as he called for the other man’s attention, “I wanna show you how pretty my baby is when they cum.”

You whimpered as Calum slipped a hand under your shirt and tugged at one of your nipples, using his other hand to pull himself free from his shorts. You glanced at the computer screen to see that Ashton had pushed himself away from his desk and had a hand down his trousers. You clenched your thighs together as arousal pooled in your abdomen, Calum huffing before using his legs to spread you open. Ashton groaned at your lack of underwear and lifted his hips to push his jeans down his legs, toying with the edge of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Calum smirked at the older man’s reaction before lining himself up and pushing into you. You moaned as he stretched you open, reaching a hand down to touch yourself. Calum growled as he noticed your movement, gripping your wrist and moving you both forwards to place your hand on the desk.

“Both hands on the desk, baby - wanna make you cum just by fucking you. Keep your eyes on Ash.” You nodded at your boyfriend’s words, locking eyes with the drummer on the screen.

“Tell me if those pretty eyes close, Ash - they know they don't get to cum if they don’t obey the rules.” The drummer smirked at you, spitting into his hand and wrapping his fingers around his dick.

You whined at the sight, clenching hard around Calum. Your boyfriend hissed at the feeling before lifting you off him slightly and slamming into you. You moaned loudly as Calum thrust into you at a fast pace, trying to keep your eyes on the drummer through the screen. Ashton was clearly trying to keep pace with Calum’s thrusts into you, the man’s breathing heavy as he fucked into his fist. Calum snaked a hand up to your nipples, flicking at the bud before tugging on it harshly. You whimpered at the pain, feeling Calum smirk into your neck as he gently bit down on your skin. You whined as he ran his tongue over the spot, moving your hips in time with his thrusts. Calum growled, bunching your shirt up and pushing it over your head and down your arms, exposing your body to Ashton. The drummer moaned as he took in the sight of your torso and the marks that littered your body from the night before. Your boyfriend pushed your back down as he slid the chair backwards, stretching your body out as you kept your hands flush on the desk. The new angle made it feel like Calum was splitting you open on his cock and you arched your back as he hit the sensitive spot inside you. He wrapped a hand round the back of your neck, pushing you back down so your eyes were level with the computer screen.

Your moans grew louder as your orgasm rushed towards you, Ashton watching you intently as he got himself off.

“Cal. Please. Need to - Can I?” You babbled at your boyfriend, and he grunted, gripping your hip tightly before pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you.

“Cum for us, baby. Show Ash how good you are.”

Your moans grew louder as Calum continued to fuck into you, fighting to keep your eyes on the drummer as he brought himself nearer to the edge. Your orgasm barrelled into you, body spasming as Calum fucked you through it, sweat dripping from his body as he approached his own climax. Your vision was blurry as you kept your eyes trained on the computer screen, Ashton swearing before he came all over his chest. You whimpered as Calum continued to fuck into you, bringing you to the edge a second time before he released his load into you. Your boyfriend collapsed on top of you, chest heaving as he tried to bring his breathing back down to normal. You squirmed underneath him, cum leaking out as he softened inside you. Through the computer, you could hear that Ashton was breathing heavily as he came down from his high, the drummer slowly wheeling himself back towards his computer and grabbing some tissues off his desk to clean himself up. Calum snaked his hands around your waist, pulling you with him as he sat up. You whimpered at the feeling of him still inside you, shifting slightly in his lap as he rested his head on your shoulder to look at Ashton. The drummer was watching you both with a soft smile on his face - one that Calum returned before pressing a kiss to your neck as you slotted your fingers with his.

“Maybe next time we can do this in person?” Ashton’s voice was hesitant as he spoke, the older man clearly not wanting to overstep. Calum smiled against your skin before looking at Ashton.

“Think that sounds like a great idea, don’t you baby?” He squeezed your body gently as he spoke, knowing that you’d thought about asking Ashton to join you in the bedroom. You groaned as you felt Calum’s dick stir inside you as he thought about sharing you with his best friend.

“I’d like that a lot, Ash.” You admitted quietly, Calum smirking at the drummer over your shoulder. Ashton flashed his bandmate a grin as he pulled his diary towards him and flipped it open.

“What are you guys doing tomorrow?”

——————————————————————————

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#calum hood oneshot #ashton irwin oneshot #reader x calum #cashtonasfuck writes #calum hood smut #ashton irwin smut #cashton oneshot

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years

Text

Beautiful Stranger (Chris Evans x OFC) -- part four

It’s Panic Mode for our poor Eva. Chapters are longer from here on out! Apologies for the short beginning ones; I had to set everything up and trust me, writing it was killing me too.

Warnings: Lots of language and some panicked thoughts

“Fuck. FUCK. Fuck, okay, shit.”

My fingers fumble with my keycard for a second before I shove my door open, flying inside my apartment and slamming the door behind me. I immediately flick the lock and deadbolt, my chest heaving.

Fuck.

I can’t think of anything else and before I know it, I’m calling Camile.

When she picks up, she’s almost laughing, “I just saw you two seconds ago--”

“I met him.”

Camile goes dead silent. And then it hits. “What?”

“My soulmate, Camile, I just fucking met him. Fuck!”

“Hey, hey, slow down, where? And when?”

“Just now! And in the elevator. Fuck! All this time-- All this goddamn time I thought I was safe here in this building, and then he fucking is on the elevator with me? What’s going on?”

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to calm down--”

“That’s not exactly what I need to hear right now.”

“Well, tough. Breathe. Calm down,” she snaps. She never snaps at me. “Listen. I know it feels like the end of the world, but it isn’t But, you’re also tipsy. You could just be paranoid.”

“I don’t think so,” I tell her quietly, the emotion of it all slowly beginning to hit me. “I’d know his laugh anywhere.”

His. It’s a him. My soulmate is a him. All this time I’ve been using their because I had no idea who it could be. I’ve always thought guys and girls were equally gorgeous, so I really had no clue who it could be. Back when I really wanted to meet them, I knew I would’ve been happy if it was a girl. Or a guy.

But it’s a guy. He. Him. His.

I’ve got a bit of a goofy smile on my face as I sink down onto my couch.

“I know you would, that’s part of it, babe,” Camile says gently. “But you are tipsy. Wait until the morning to think about this.”

“Okay,” I breathe deeply. “Okay. That’s a good idea.”

“Okay. Now go lay down. Please.”

“I will. Sorry for freaking out on you.”

“It’s okay,” she chuckles. “It happens.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey Bluebird?”

I close my eyes. “Yeah?”

“You finally met him.”

I’m surprised at how little that sentence scares me. It’s probably the wine.

+++

I don’t make it to my bed. I wake up at around seven in the morning, still on the couch, so I decide to drag myself to my room.

I change into a big t-shirt and lazily take off my makeup before crawling into my bed. The sun begins to peek through the clouds when I close my eyes and drift off again.

+++

I wake a few hours later feeling much more refreshed, but also disoriented. Because someone is knocking a little too loudly on my door.

With a groan, I throw on some sweatpants and head to the door, looking through the peephole to see who it is. It’s a man...but that’s about all I’ve got.

I debate even opening the door, but I’m too tired to debate, so I solve the problem quickly by opening the door.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m so sorry...did I wake you up?”

I narrow my eyes. “Who are you?”

“Uh...okay,” he sighs. “Were you on the elevator last night?”

I’m a little more awake now. “Yeah…”

“And did you… I’m sorry, this is weird, I’m probably completely overstepping here, but you kind of looked in a hurry -- panicked, I guess, when you got off and this just...felt like the right door to come to.”

I raise an eyebrow. “It felt like the right door?”

“Yeah…anyway, never mind me. Uh, I’m Chris, by the way. I’m sorry, I should’ve led with that. I live two floors up. 603.”

Now I know where he lives. Cool?

“Sorry,” he chuckles a little, barely a breath of a laugh before he backs away, and that’s the moment it hits me.

My eyes widen again, but he’s already backing away, and waving, heading to the elevator. Fuck. Fucking fuck.

I close my door slowly, my eyes still wide.

It felt like the right door. Of course it did. It felt that way because he’s my soulmate. That’s him.

His appearance finally strikes me and I take a step back.

That’s him?

Damn, okay. Chris. Chris is hot. Chris is really hot.

My stomach drops again and I run to my phone, already tapping Camile’s number. It takes a few rings before she picks up.

“Hello?”

“Chris,” I blurt. “His name is Chris.”

I hear some rustling, which is probably her sitting up. “You met him?”

“He came to my door,” I blurt again, crawling back into my bed. “He just...said he remembered seeing me run off the elevator last night and wanted to ask if I was okay. And this door just felt right. It felt right.”

“Well,” she chuckles. “Soulmates do feel a weird pull toward each other like that.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“He’s so hot, Camile.”

She laughs loudly then, and it makes me wonder if Jack is startled by it, wondering what could be making Camile laugh this hard. Oh, Jack. If only he knew.

“I bet you’re regretting hiding yourself away now, huh?”

“Not really,” I reply truthfully. “But it’s a him. And he’s seemingly sweet, so far. And cute.”

“Of course he’s cute,” she says. “So, what happened? Where is he?”

“He said he lives in 603.”

“Ooh, two floors up.”

“Shut up.”

“Why isn’t he with you?”

“Well,” I chuckle, suddenly stopping myself because Chris probably heard that. I’m going to be so much more conscious of my laughter now. “He woke me up, so I was a little out of it and he kinda left before I could say anything.”

“Eva!” Camile yells. “Go to him!”

“I can’t!” I yell back. “What am I supposed to do? Knock on his door and say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m your soulmate.’”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do!”

“You’re crazy!” I fire back. “I can’t do that.”

“Well, you can’t avoid him anymore,” she says firmly. “I won’t let you. And I don’t know that he will either.”

“I don’t want to,” I admit, each word scaring me more and more. “What am I doing?”

“You’re finally meeting your soulmate after waiting far too long,” she replies. “It’s about damn time this happened for you. You deserve this.”

“What if he hates me?”

“He came to check on you all because he saw you run off the elevator. And he doesn’t even know that you’re his soulmate. You’re just some random girl to him right now, and yet he still wanted to check on you. Let that sink in.”

“It’s too early for this,” I groan. “I wasn’t expecting to deal with this today. Or any day.”

“Well, now you’ve got to. And I’m going to hang up, because you need to get dressed and go knock on -- what was it? Chris’s door. Okay?”

“Wait--”

“You need to do it and you know it. You’ve got this.”

“Do I?”

“Quit it,” she snaps again, but lighter this time. “You’ve got it, okay?”

“Fine, but if this goes south, you’re coming over today.”

“It won’t,” she tells me. “But deal.”

Okay. Time to essentially meet my demise.

+++

Bad move, man, Chris tells himself.

Dodger, Chris’s dog, greets him at the door when he returns to his apartment. The small puppy brings a smile to the man’s face despite feeling like a giant idiot at the current moment.

Seriously? Chris chastises himself. Checking on some random girl all because she ran off the elevator looking mildly panicked last night? She looked terrified, having some random ass dude knock on her door.

Chris cusses under his breath, venturing into the kitchen with Dodger following at his heels.

He can’t leave the building-- Well, he shouldn’t leave the building, not if he doesn’t want to be mobbed by cameras and have headlines written about him tomorrow speculating if he’s on his way to meet his soulmate when the reality is that he’s on his way to get dog food.

That’s happened.

Chris hates seeing those headlines. They had died down after he refused to talk about his soulmate in interviews anymore. He never did before anyway, but all it took was one small slip-up like the other night. One single utterance of the word “soulmate” with Chris Evans in the general vicinity and suddenly everyone is listening.

He scoffs to himself, pouring a glass of water. The least he can do is go work out. He is off for a few days, but wallowing around his apartment won’t do him any good.

Dodger stands up on Chris’s leg, wanting attention, so Chris kneels down, bringing the puppy into his chest. He’ll work out later -- after he wrestles with his best friend.

#Chris Evans #chris evans x original female character #chris evans x ofc #chris evans soulmate #soulmates #soulmate au #soulmate story #panic mode #panicked thoughts #lots of language #i promise these two will actually be together in the next part #I PROMISE #trust me it's killing me too

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addictofsupernatural · 5 years

Text

Not a Rule Breaker

Sweet Pea x reader

Summary: Sweet Pea is curious about good girl y/n, who never breaks the rules.

Word Count: 4581

Sweet Pea hated history the most. Not because of what they were learning, or the tests, or the reading, but the constant projects. They were usually small, but there were tons of them. Sweet Pea wasn't that creative of a person, and he hated conversing with Northsiders. So when his history teacher was assigning pairs for a week long project, he groaned internally.

"Sweet Pea, and..." Mr. Daniels scanned his list for his pair. "Y/n y/l/n."

Sweet Pea watched as a small awkward looking girl went to sit next to him. She looked at him and offered a smile, and Sweet Pea responded by just staring at her. Her smile faded as she looked down at her lap, embarrassed.

Mr. Daniels then explained that we had to relate the yin-yang symbol to modern day, and that he chose the partners that represented opposites. There was an oral presentation.

"Oh, and show something that represents what your saying." He said. "Nothing big, just something that'll make what you're saying clearer." There was ten minutes left of class to conversate with your partner to see how they would work together.

"Hey." You said. "So, um, I was wondering if you were free after school. Y'know, for the project. I figured that we could go somewhere after school to work on it, but only if that's okay with you! I don't want to overstep or anything, and I don't even mind doing all of it on my own. That's how it usually goes in my group projects anyways. But it would be nice to have some help-"

"After school all this week is good for me." He took your babbling as a sign that you were afraid of him. Just another Northside princess who didn't want to be anywhere near the big bad Serpent.

"Okay, perfect!" You happily smiled. "I was thinking we could do it at your place." Or maybe he was wrong?

"My place?" He stared at your innocent eyes.

"Yeah, if that's okay with you."

"You know I live on the Southside right?"

You tilted your head, eyes full of confusion. "Yeah. So?"

He looked at you as if you were crazy. "You sure your parents won't mind you going to the Southside?"

"Um, they should be okay with it as long as it's school work." You excitedly nodded. "I'll text them later though. Don't want to upset them."

Before he could make a comment on that, the bell rang. School was over. Sweet Pea stood. "Let's go." Was all he said. You followed him out to the parking lot, where he went up to his bike. "Hop on."

"Um, I don't think my parents would want me to go on a motorcycle." You laughed nervously.

He let out an amused breath. "Come on, it's not like you listen to every single thing your parents say?" You stared at him, shifting in your place. "Wow, you really are a Northsider."

You pouted. "That's a bit rude." He still looked amused, and you let out a sad sigh. "We have to work on this project together, Sweet Pea. I get it if you don't like me, most people don't anyway. But if we're going to get a good grade on this project, we should understand each other."

He thought about your words. You said that most people didn't like you. Why was that? "I never said I didn't like you." You looked up at him. "Hop on. Please. You need to understand why it's okay to break some rules."

You hesitantly walked up to Sweet Pea on his bike, and slowly mounted on it. Sweet Pea revved it, causing you to quickly wrap your arms around his torso, pressing your cheek to his back. The boy you were clinging to unconsciously smiled at the jump, and took off.

When you got there, you hopped off excitedly. "That was awesome!" You giggled. Sweet Pea stared at your happy form, feeling a sense of pride deep down by the fact that he caused that. The feeling didn't go away, and it made him confused.

You both stepped into his house. He sat down on the table as you stood, looking at him with an awkward smile. "What?" Sweet Pea asked, eyeing you up and down. "Too low budget for you to sit down on?"

You shook your head. "It's rude to just sit down without permission at somebody else's house." He breathed out a laugh, kicking a chair your way, and you stopped it and sat down. "Thank you." You quietly said.

After about thirty minutes of typing up what you guys were going to say on your phones, Sweet Pea figured you both should take a break. "I'm starving." He blankly stated.

"Me too. Maybe we should get something to eat. I saw a taco spot near here." You suggested, smiling.

"Sure, I'll go get some. You stay here." He stood up.

"Why can't I go with you?" Sweet Pea stared at your innocent eyes and curious expression.

"I don't want people to see you." He didn't know how else to put it. He didn't want to go more in depth and scare you off.

Your smile faded. "Oh, okay." Although Sweet Pea felt weird about your frown, he still left. When he came back he plopped that take out on the table while you played with your phone. "Thank you." You quietly said.

"What's wrong?" He said, snatching the bag away. Although he didn't know why, he felt off not seeing you smile.

"Nothing." You didn't look at him. "At least it shouldn't be, anyways." You let out a small unamused laugh. "It just seems like everybody around me is embarrassed to be seen with me." You refused to look anywhere but down. "Can I have my food now please?" You squeaked.

You two of you were in silence. Sweet Pea felt bad. He didn't have you stay because he didn't want to be seen with you. Do people really act like that towards you? Sure, you were a little too perfect and rambled sometimes, but you didn't seem like a bad person.

He felt like he should start a conversation. "So, what are we gonna do for our presentation? The thing we have to show to the class or something."

"Um, I thought of something, but it's stupid." You didn't look at him.

"Let's hear it. It can't be that dumb." He said in a joking manner. You gave him a little smile.

"I thought that maybe I could wear your serpent jacket." He looked at you, not expecting that. "I know it's a bad idea. I get it, I just thought it would be clever, cause of the whole yin yang, North South type of thing, but I'm good with it not being okay. I get it. Too weird. All good." You nodded your head offering him a smile.

He just stared at you. "You done?" He looked at you, amused.

You let out a giggle and ran your fingers through your hair. "Yeah, sorry." You then checked your phone. "Oh, I think I should go home now. Don't wanna stay out past curfew."

"Do you always follow your parents' rules?" He joked.

"Yeah?"

"You're serious?" You nodded in response. He shook his head. "We need to do something about that."

You shook your head, but he nodded his head as you did. "No. No we don't."

He smiled. "Yes. Yes we do."

"What?" You looked in distress. "Really? This is what gets you to smile?"

His smile only grew as he got out of his seat. "You were the one who told me that we need to understand each other. You need to understand why rule breaking is fun."

You kept shaking your head while he stepped in front of you. "You shouldn't listen to me." He kept nodding his head. "I just ramble out things, I don't really expect anybody to listen." You were speaking quickly again.

"I listened." He leaned down to be eye to eye with you. He then chuckled. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home and I'll pick you up around 10."

A little before 10, you said good night to your parents, feeling nervous. You waited until you saw that all the lights turned off and heard footsteps to your parents' room with a door closing. You then opened your window, climbing out and crawling down the pipe near your door before jumping and landing on your feet.

"That looked pretty easy for someone who's never done this before." Sweet Pea said as he sat on your door steps. He unintentionally startled you, causing you to jump and stumble to the ground. He laughed. "Sorry."

He held out his hands, and you took them as he hoisted you up. "No you're not." You mumbled, pouting. "Where are we going?"

"Only the greatest place ever." He grabbed your hand and sped walked to his motorcycle with you stumbling to keep up.

Once you quickly mounted his bike you both took off, soon stopping when you both got to the Whyte Wrym parking lot. "This is the greatest place ever?" You chuckled.

"No, but it's a close second." You furrowed your eyebrows and smiled. He smiled at your confused expression and excitedly grabbed your shoulders, leading you inside.

He opened the doors, and you saw Fangs and Toni look at the two of you, standing up from the bar stools and coming towards you two. "Hi." You squeaked.

"Hey." Fangs said. "You're shy girl."

You chuckled. "Is that what people call me?"

"Sweet Pea does." He then looked at Sweet Pea. "You're right. She is hot in kind of an innocent way."

You felt your face begin to heat up. "He said that?" You turned to him, who looked shocked. "You said that?"

Toni decided to interject and save Sweet Pea. "Did you bring a bathing suit?"

You shook your head. You then turned to look at Sweet Pea, who shrugged. "Maybe you can skinny dip." He smirked.

Before you could say anything, Toni spoke up. "You can borrow one of mine. I need to head to my trailer to get one for me anyways."

So the four of you headed to the trailer homes, with Fangs and Toni in the truck and you and Sweet Pea riding his motorcycle. Fangs and Sweet Pea got out of their trailers a lot quicker, and the tall serpent took this time to shove his friend. "What the hell dude?" He said. "Why would you tell y/n those things?"

A laughing Fangs shrugged. "You needed a push. I knew you wouldn't say it to her, so I did it for you. You're welcome."

"She didn't need to know that!"

"Why not?" He smirked. "Because you don't want to face the fact that you seem a little into a Northsider."

"I'm not." Sweet Pea insisted. "She just needs to learn how to have fun."

"So that's why you invited a stranger to hang out at night with you and your best friends?" He then playfully shoved Sweet Pea. "Dude, go for it. It's fine if you date a Northsider, as long as you two like each other."

"How do you even know if she likes me?" He crossed his arms.

"She's here, isn't she?" Sweet Pea was about to respond, when Toni's trailer door opened. Behind Toni was you, in a blueish green bikini with your hair down. You both spotted the the boys and smiled.

You went up to Sweet Pea, who slowly uncrossed his arms in a daze. "So where are we going?" You hugged yourself, as if to cover yourself up more. "You still haven't told me."

He quickly snapped out of his trance that your body put on him. "The greatest place in the world. Pay attention." His eyes kept flickering down to the perfect outfit on you.

"Why do you keep looking at my body? Is it bad on me? It looks bad, doesn't it? I thought so. Maybe Toni has a one piece, I don't know I couldn't find one but maybe if I look again–"

"No! You don't look bad. It's fine. It's fun time." He once again grabbed your shoulders from behind you and walked you to the truck, where him and Fangs sat inside while you and Toni rode in the trunk with the cooler.

"So your friends don't do these types of things?" Toni asked as the car started to take off.

"Oh, um, I don't really have friends." You said awkwardly. "Like, at all."

"And why is that?" She looked at you with sympathy.

You shrugged and looked down at your hands. "I always thought that it's because I'm really socially awkward, but there could be other reasons too. Maybe it's cause I follow the rules too much, or I just don't fit in. Sometimes I wonder if it's my looks or my body."

"What? No, it has nothing to do with the way you look." Toni said as she played with a piece of your hair. "I'm sure it's because you're too good for the Northside. They aren't good enough to handle your personality."

Fangs and Sweet Pea heard the conversation, considering that all windows were down. They looked at each other, driving the rest of the way in silence.

The truck then came to a stop, and you looked around. Sweet Pea helped you down from the back of the truck. "Sweet Water River?" You smiled.

"Of course." Fangs said. "It's only the greatest place in the world."

The four of you stood at the edge of a small cliff, looking down at the water. "Are you sure this is sa-" You were cut off from Sweet Pea pushing you. You let out a yelp as you fell down into the water. You came back up, pushing your hair back. "Asshole!" You said in an amused tone.

Everyone else jumped, and you and the other three were playing games and messing around in the river. Sweet Pea went to grab the cooler, where there was root beer. "Oh thank God." You muttered to yourself.

"Don't worry tiny, we weren't gonna bring real beer." Fangs said. "We didn't want to freak you out."

"Thank you." You quietly said with a smile.

While you and Toni were off to the side with your own conversation, Fangs and Sweet Pea were drinking their root beer together. "So," Fangs said. "What's next?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you're gonna do more things with her, and wanna know what."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know dude, any ideas?"

"Well, you heard her in the car. She's insecure, so do something that'll make her feel good about herself." Sweet Pea nodded, thinking of what to do with you tomorrow.

The next day at school you expected Sweet Pea and his friends to pretend they didn't know you. You didn't mind, they probably had a reputation to protect or something. They would probably only know you when it was just you four together. You understood- "Hey tiny, where you going?"

A hard hand clasped your shoulder, and Fangs pulled you to his side. "Huh?" You said, snapping out of your thoughts.

"Where are you headed?" Toni asked on the other side of you.

"Um, just the bleachers to eat my lunch."

"Alone?" Toni asked. You nodded in response. The two of them shook their heads. "Nope, you're coming with us."

You nervously rambled as they dragged you. Finally you there had arrived to the cafeteria, where Sweet Pea was waiting.

"What are you doing here?" He blankly asked.

"I don't want to intrude-" You tried to turning around but Fangs gripped your shoulders and brought you back forward.

"She's gonna be sitting with us." Fangs said with a big smile.

"Is there a problem?" Toni asked. Sweet Pea shook his head.

"Good." Fangs then pushed you towards Sweet Pea in his seat.

"Stop being so rough with her." Sweet Pea caught you when you stumbled into him. "She's not a doll."

"I'm okay." You quietly said. "Thank you though." You smiled. You took out your lunch pale, and looked up to the three Southsiders staring at you. "Y'know, I'm not really hungry. You guys could have my stuff if you want."

You pushed it towards Fangs, and he happily ransacked your lunch pale. You were hungry, but you felt bad. You shouldn't eat when others don't have food unless you share. Your first mother taught you that, and you loved her for how smart and kind she was. She was amazing, and will always be in your heart.

You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt Sweet Pea's leg bump yours. "Hey." You offered him a smile to show that you were listening. "Have you eaten anything?"

"Oh, I'm not hungry. It's okay."

"No it's not. You should eat something."

You both looked to Toni and Fangs eating your food. "These leftovers are good." Fangs said with a mouth full of food.

"I'll be fine."

You tried to hide behind your smile, but Sweet Pea's stare was fighting against it. He was silent. He got up, walked to the vending machine, got a protein bar, and gave it to you. "Here. Eat."

He sat down and felt you staring at him. Once he turned towards you to ask why you were staring at him, you gave him a gentle smile and thanked him.

Later on at his trailer you both veered off of the assignment as Sweet Pea started asking you questions about yourself. Although you were flustered by the uncommon attention, you still answered his questions. "Have you ever dated anyone?" Sweet Pea smiled at how distraught you were.

You were typing away on your laptop, your face red and your body squirmy as you shook your head. You could feel his judgmental stare. "Why do you keep on asking me these questions? You probably already know the answers anyways." You said quietly.

He shrugged. "I just want to know what kind of person you are. We are friends now, right?" You glanced up and coyly smiled, nodding your head. He paused. "Are you a virgin?"

"Ohmigod Pea! Don't ask me that!" You closed your laptop quickly. "Why would you ask that? You don't need to know that!"

He got up and stepped forward. "Do you have anything to hide?"

"No!"

"Then?"

You gently pushed him away once he became inches away from your face. "No, okay? I'm sorry I don't sleep around, and I'm sorry I'm not interesting!"

He felt a little bad when he saw your sad expression. "You're interesting. You just need to bed some rules here and there."

You huffed and looked away. "I don't expect you to get it Pea."

He let out a short laugh. "There's not much to get." You responded by putting your laptop in your bag and heading for the door. He grabbed your wrist before you could leave. "Wait. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." You looked down. "How about I pick you up at ten again? We can talk, so we could understand each other better."

You uneasily nodded your head. He then took you home, and you muttered a quiet thank you, still a little hurt. "Hey," he said as you got off. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't say things when I don't know the fully story."

"Yeah, you shouldn't." You felt bad for saying that. You should be nicer. He was apologizing after all. "It's okay though."

"I'll see you later then. Oh, try to come out through the front door this time. I want you to wear something a little nicer." You gave him a small smile and nodded. He then took off to get to work.

Around ten you quietly put on some nicer clothes. You dug into your closet and found a white shoulderless strap crop top. Your first mother had boughten it for you when she found out you were insecure about your body. You should be proud of your body, especially when it makes you look so beautiful. You still never put it on until today. You then put on a high waisted mini skirt that your new mother gave you when she passed by it while shopping for herself.

You looked in the mirror on last time. There thankfully was only a thin showing your stomach. You carefully went downstairs and unlocked the door. When you stepped outside, Sweet Pea was waiting for you. As he stared at your body, you became squirmy. "What? Is it too much? I could go change–"

He grabbed your hand. "You look nice. C'mon." He hooked your arm with his and walked down the neighborhood with you. As you walked, he told you to close your eyes. You let him lead you, asking him questions about where you were going. You then came to a stop. "Okay, open them."

It was Fox Forest. There were lights hanging on the trees, and a table with snacks on it. There was also two chairs. "What's this?"

"You said that you've never dated anyone, and I figured that you've never been to prom. So this is your first prom, and I'll be your prom date." He looks at you. "You like it?"

You turn to him with a big smile on your face. "I love it. It's awesome." You hug him and thank him repeatedly. You dragged him over start dancing. It's really just you dancing, and Sweet Pea's next to you enjoying the view while you giggle. You two then sit down on the chairs. "So this is why you had me dress up?"

"Yeah." He looks down at you, smiling. "So you could feel more like you're at prom."

"Then why are you wearing a flannel?" He didn't say anything, but looked down. You were right. While he was thinking about how dumb he probably looked, he felt you him your hand on his cheek to look at him. "It's okay. I think they look good on you."

You realized how close your faces were and quickly took your hand away, muttering a sorry. He chuckled and grabbed your hand. "C'mon."

You stared at the hand. "What?"

"You haven't had your slow dance yet." You chuckled as he pulled you the the center of the hanging lights. He put on a random slow song from his phone and put his hands on your waist. "Sorry for making fun of you earlier. I just want to get to know you better."

You put your arms around his neck and began to sway. "It's okay. You aren't as bad as the Northsiders who make fun of me." You paused, taking a nervous breath before saying, "I think it's because they all know that I'm not from the Northside."

You avoided his shocked gaze. "What? You're a Southsider?"

You nodded. "My parents aren't really my biological parents. They're my foster family. I, um, I've been in the system for about three years. My dad bolted once he found out my mom was pregnant, and later on in her life she got sick and passed. Ever since then I've hopped from place to place, but the people I'm with now are the longest I've been with a new family. It'll be 7 months soon. That's kinda why I try to not break any rules. I'm afraid they won't want me if I do."

"I'm sorry." He muttered. He gently squeezed your waist. "You shouldn't have to go through that." Your sad expression made his chest feel tight.

You looked up at him and gently smiled. "Don't be. I have two moms, and I know what it's like to have a father now. Some people don't get to have that. I should be grateful, right?"

"You're so amazing." He looked down at your lips. "Have you ever kissed someone before?" You muttered a no as he cupped your cheek, both of you leaning in as he pressed his lips to yours. You were a little clumsy, but it made Sweet Pea feel more special. Only he's done this with you. Only he has your trust to do this. He pulled back. "Vanilla?"

You grinned. "Chapstick. You like it?"

He kissed you again. "Yum." He then walked you home shortly after that. You told him that if the two of you were going to be something, you wanted to be committed. This made him even happier, because that's all he wanted in a relationship and it seemed like nobody wanted to be like that with him. "I have something to tell you." He said as you two were walking down the street. You bit your lip and nodded. "I'm a virgin too."

You playfully pushed him. "You're such an ass!" You giggled out. He then walked you to your doorstep and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

The next day after school the two of you were at house, on his couch when he surprised you with a kiss. "Pea!" You laughed.

"What? I want to be your first for everything." You scrunched up your nose. "Have you ever made out with someone on a couch?"

"You already know the answer to tha–" you were cut off by him lurching forward and sending your back to hit the couch. You were both busy making out when Sweet Pea got an alert. He ignored it, but then you got an alert too. You moved your head to get your phone. Your boyfriend let out a frustrated sigh. "It's Fangs. He wants to hang out at the Whyte Wyrm."

"But what about our firsts?" He pouted.

"I've never played pool before." You suggested. He grinned as he sat up, taking a good look at you. Your face was flushed and your lips were swollen. Your shirt had hiked up a bit and revealed a bit of your stomach. "Cute."

Two days later you came to school and gave him a big hug in the parking lot. "Oh, my gosh, Pea~"

"What's got you so excited?" He laughed out.

"My foster parents are going to adopt me! I'm gonna have a real family again!" He spun you around, constantly saying how happy he was for you. Fangs and Toni congratulated you as well.

On the day of the history project, the two of you memorized what you said almost perfectly. You gave the class a lesson on how the yin-yang symbol represented opposites, like the North and South side, but one still needs the other to keep each other balanced. All was well until Mr. Daniels asked, "And what do you have to represent what you were saying?"

You completely forgot about that. You were mentally panicking when Sweet Pea grabbed your face and gave you a big kiss. You could hear the class gasp and whisper. Once he pulled away you bit your lip. "How was that?" Sweet Pea asked.

"You may sit." You tried to not smile, but failed. Sweet Pea put an arm around your shoulder and the two of you walked back to your seats.

You received an A–.

#sweet pea fanfiction #riverdale sweet pea #sweet pea fic #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea x you #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fandom #riverdale #sweet pea riverdale

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corpse--diem · 4 years

Text

History Repeats | Arthur & Erin

With: @arthurjdrake

After being practically stuck inside for nearly a month with her undead father, going anywhere else was like a breath of fresh air. So when the idea struck Erin to get caught up on some work at Coffee Plus struck her, she was out of the door faster than she could put her jacket on. From the second she walked in the door, she was reminded instantly of her previous trip here. Her and Regan had sat right to her left. The woman who’d yelled at them not far from it. A small smile tugged at her lips, before the overwhelming panic that came with the rest of that stroll down memory lane. Confident that there was no hypnotist in the area, her eyes rolling to herself at the thought, she grabbed a coffee and settled in with her tablet. She was getting behind on her obituaries--another fun detail most people weren’t aware she took care of. Knee-deep in some family history and photos, her eyes happened to glance up above her screen, then back down again. Then, instantly, right back up. Was she seeing this right? She sat back, taking a good, hard look at the picture of the man on her screen--a man who had died years ago. Then, back to the man she had just seen step into the cafe. It was completely unintentional, and totally rude, but she couldn’t stop staring at this man.

It had been at least a couple of lifetimes since Arthur had been in White Crest - always ending up wherever Mercy happened to travel that coincided with his rebirth cycle. His death the last time in this town had been unfounded and quite mundane - gunned down after accidentally stumbling in on an altercation between two feuding families. He’d started a life here and made a couple of friends. The ending really was quite unmemorable. A shotgun blast to the abdomen had put an unfortunate end to what had been a relatively mediocre existence. Thankfully, some things about it had changed. Admittedly while getting his afternoon cup of coffee at what was fast becoming a frequent haunt for him, he wasn’t expecting to feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the indication that someone was staring at him quite intently. The sensation caused him to bristle a little, before a marginal turn of his head opened his peripheral just enough to spot the responsible party. His brow furrowed for a moment at the look of shock on her features, glancing over his other shoulder to check if it was not him, but someone else she was staring at… But there was only empty space beyond. Glancing back once more to the women he fixed her with an uncertain and slightly questioning look not recognizing her from anywhere in particular. Taking the time to order and collect his drink, he circled back, approaching her table until his six foot three frame loomed beside it. “Apologies ma’am… I couldn’t help but… uh… notice… You were giving me a strange look… If I’ve done… something to offend you” not that he was sure what he could’ve done to a stranger but in a town like this who knew “please know that I’m quite apologetic for... whatever seems to be the issue.”

Erin knew she should have stopped staring at some point--the man clearly noticed. But she couldn’t help herself. Couldn’t help glancing back up and then down at the photo, again and again. The photo that was far older than what this man could have possibly been. Oh shit--she must have been staring too long, and too hard because after a few moments, he was heading her way. And he was apologizing to her? She pulled her tablet closer to her, shaking her head. “No, God, I’m sorry. Please don’t apologize.” She bit her lip, trying to decide if she was going to share or not. Was that weird? Ah, hell. “I just--” she paused again, fighting with herself until she eventually just gave in. “You don’t happen to know the Crane’s in town, do you? Or are you related to them?” She stood from her spot slowly, tablet in hand, as she zoomed in on the somewhat blurry black and white photo. But now that she held the photo up so he could see. “You see why I was staring now though, right?”

Arthur couldn’t help but blink as after his apology for whatever he’d done to give offence to make this woman stare at him as though he’d grown another head, she offered up one of her own. To say he was perplexed was perhaps a bit of an understatement. To steady any growing nerves, Arthur took a slow sip of his coffee, the familiar bitter taste washing away some of his anxiety over this stranger somehow seeming to think him familiar. “Okay… then, forgive me but I’ve got to ask… Why were you staring at me as if I’ve got another head.” But his answer was provided a few moments later. Crane. A name that had served its purpose when he’d been passing through town before an… untimely demise. “Um… Ha, funny question that but… Yes, I think I have some familial connections back to this town… I think my great great grandfather used to live around these parts...” he smiled though it dimmed fractionally as she turned around her tablet revealing a photograph of him… 1800s style portraiture. Black and white. Distinctly recognisable of a slightly younger self if you looked close enough. “Oh… wow, that’s… Damn that’s pretty scary… He looks…” Arthur swallowed but let very real shock simply play into the reaction he gave as he gestured for a moment before taking the tablet and peering at it with interest. “Where’d you find this?”

Erin was relieved at how calm this man was, despite the abrupt prying and staring. A real killer first introduction, she thought as she watched him nervously sip his coffee. But it was too late to go back now, wasn’t it? But the familial link made sense, and she was growing more curious and more excited about the discovery. “Great-great grandfather? No way,” she grinned, unabashedly scanning over his features as he studied the photo himself. “You guys could be straight up dopplegangers,” she said, watching the shock settle over his face. This was as weird as it was cool, but his curiosity ignited further intrigue on her part. “I’m a funeral director and--” Oh. She paused, realizing that she might have actually overstepped this time. Especially if this was his family. She cleared her throat, trying to carry on without skipping too much of a beat. “And I was given a whole digitized album of family pictures to include for the memorial. I was just going through them, writing the obituary, when your face--or, your grandfather’s face--popped up.”

Thankfully several lifetimes could serve when it came to being shocked, though this had certainly not been how he’d seen his day unfolding. His fingers tightened a fraction on the mug, though his smile remained amicable if a little disturbed by this apparent discovery. “I think… Yeah… Well, uh I guess.” Admittedly on the spot he ran through a list of potential explanations in his mind but her clarification as to why she was digging around through old obituaries caused his eyes to widen a little. Some of the tension in his chest unwound fractionally at the revelation and it gave him a bit more time to think. “Aah… That’s… Yeah that’s a bit less weird then, though you’re right the resemblance is… spooky” he laughed. The sound more than a little awkward in its delivery and at the situation he presently found himself feeling quite floundered in. “That’s why I… um, came here - to this town that is” he clarified quickly “not… this coffee shop. That’d really be weird.” He raised a hand to scratch behind his ear, “because research not just… for that” he indicated the photo with an awkward nod “but research… generally. I teach you see - at the university. History. I teach history.... I’m a historian.”

This poor guy, Erin had to laugh to herself. Here he was just trying to get a cup of coffee in peace and he’d barely made it through the door before a small spectacle was made of himself. Still, the curiosity tugged harder than her sense of good manners. Curiosity prevailed. “It is spooky, isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes gently in his direction, gesturing towards the open seat across from the table the rest of her things occupied. “Do you have a minute to join me?” She asked, starting to shuffle back towards her seat. “Maybe this is kismet, you know? Like, how else would you describe something like this?” She offered a smile at him, hoping to convey her appreciation for him humoring her as much as he already had. But before she sat, she finally remembered her sense of human civility. “Shit, I’m sorry--I’m Erin, by the way. Erin Nichols,” she reached for his hand, smiling a little bigger and softer. “You can’t tell me you’re not a little curious, especially as a historian.”

“Super spooky,” Arthur agreed, wondering what kind of predicament he’d gotten himself into with this conversation. But he’d gone and put his foot in it hadn’t he? So what else could he do but sit and try to figure out how best to resolve this situation. “Well… I was-” he debated on making up some sort of excuse of a thing he’d been intending on doing, but unfortunately this was a touch more pressing. At least he could be present whilst she did her digging, who knew what she might turn up if he wasn’t around to add a little bit of clarification to it. “But… uh sure…” He internally sighed at the turn of events as he moved to take the proffered seat. “Maybe, or just a really weird coincidence.” Who could say for sure but he returned her smile with a faint albeit genuine one of his own. Always amicable even if he did feel like he was struggling to tread water. The sudden remembrance of civility drew forth a soft huff of a laugh, “all good, Arthur Drake… Pleasure to meet you Erin,” he greeted as he took her hand and shook it politely with a warmer look. “Yeah… Okay you’ve got me,” his smile grew into a little bit of a shy grin “still wasn’t how I was expecting this day to turn out… So how’d you find that anyway? An obituary of someone who passed recently or?”

Erin grinned wider when the man finally seemed to be ceding to her request, even if a bit reluctantly. “I won’t keep you long. I pr--” The word almost slipped from her mouth and Erin pretended to cough to cover up the hiccup. No fucking way was she uttering the ‘p-word’ in the very same place her and Regan had been just a month ago. “Excuse me. Scout’s honor. Not trying to deter your day too much.” It took a moment for her it to click, but the name smacked her with familiarity. Arthur Drake. She nodded, though she was half-distracted as she tried to pull a faint memory from the depths of her brain to connect it. “Yeah, like I said--the family decedent recently passed, so the family gave me their files to go through and put something together for the service and the obituary. It’s pretty common--” she halted mid speech, temporarily forgetting the whole reason this man was here. Instead, focusing on who he was. “Arthur Drake! Wait!” She pointed to him, new enthusiasm in her voice. “You’re Mercy’s Arthur. I mean, you know her. Mercy.” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she recalled the conversation, though a slight, very knowing smirk sat on the tip of her lips.

The sudden way she cut herself off from saying what Arthur could only assume was promise didn’t escape his attention. She’d gotten his attention and now that she had it little slips were something that would be noted and collected, filed in his mind to formulate a better understanding on this strange mortician that seemed to somehow find him of apparent interest. “Alright… I guess I can spare a little time.” How long would depend. But for now it would suffice to give her a bit of leeway. “I see... Well… from what I know he didn’t have any kids of his own this side of the pond… But it’s possible he might’ve fostered a few people and that’s how the name got connected.“ Arthur knew for a fact that was exactly what had happened, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “I’m English myself… Most of my heritage is as well from what little I know of it…” His fingers lightly rubbed at the angle of his jaw as he tried to run the approximate timelines in his head, gods this was going to get confusing. Thankfully he was spared from those calculations by Erin’s sudden exclamation that initially made him blink and then look a fair bit more sheepish than he already had. There was no helping his mild cringe, “ah--- not her Arthur… Well, yes her Arthur but… Not in that sense… Because I’m not… hers. Uh… shit, yes, Gods… What’s she been saying about me? How do you know her?”

What a strange, nervous, little man, Erin thought quietly to herself. His reaction to her inquiry about Mercy was interesting, though. “Mmhmm…” She nodded thoughtfully, unable to hide the little smirk. “We’re old friends. She’s one of the few people in this town who’d gladly scale a cliff with me instead of listing all the reasons why I shouldn’t.” After the past few weeks she’d had, she’d likely give the woman a call for that. Turned her attention back to the screen in her hand, trying to be nonchalant. “Some good things, don’t worry,” she offered pleasantly, but that was all she would say on the matter, recalling how back-and-forth her friend had been when she recalled their Arthur Drake conversation. She halted mid-scroll, the amusement falling from her features suddenly, features narrowing into pure concentration. An older photograph emerged, one from more than a few decades before the original one she had first shown Arthur. Identical. She held the photo up, eyes wide. “Is--do you see that too?”

“Old friends… Huh, interesting” Arthur clicked his tongue a little as he eyed Erin for a moment not quite sure what to make of that statement. “Yeah that definitely sounds like her…” He couldn’t help the way his gaze intensified however in the interim, trying to decipher the code of what constituted good things. The talk of Mercy in all honesty had distracted him temporarily from what they were even ‘researching’. By ‘researching’, it wasn’t Arthur’s typical proactive contribution to sessions as typically befitted his interest in the topic. It was more Erin looking through certain documentations while Arthur asked the odd question here and there trying to look interested while wondering just what this woman might know. That was until Erin froze, and Arthur’s eyes snapped to the screen trying his best to contain his sudden panic. Oh shit. Thankfully at that point his phone vibrated. He snatched up his phone and quickly thumbed open a note tilting the screen just enough to hide its contents as he rushed to fake texting out a reply “oh gods, I’m sorry… my um, tortoise… is really ill and needs food...“ He shot her an apologetic look quickly getting to his feet “well, this was fascinating… Really, but um, yeah… Gotta go, good luck…” With a minor wave, Arthur shot straight for the door cursing this whole venture in his mind. What had he gotten himself into?

#chatzy #chatzy: arthur #history repeats #wickedswriting

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pjbehindthesun · 5 years

Text

chapter 27: carrots, rusty bikes, and troublesome ghosts

Saturday, November 10th, 1990

“What does the coleslaw come with?”

“I’m sorry?” I look up from the order pad I’m scribbling on, not having quite registered the guy’s question the first time.

“The coleslaw, what does it come with?”

“Oh, uhm, it’s a side, so you can get it with any entree you want, really…”

“So can I just order coleslaw?”

“Well, I don’t think we sell it separately, I think it comes on the side of whatever you order.”

“Okay, how much for just a side of coleslaw then?”

This is it. I’ve died. I’ve died and gone to hell where my punishment for being a horrible human being is to be stuck in a permanently looping, restaurant-themed version of “Who’s on First.” Welcome back to work, Cora. With tremendous effort, I try again in my most patient customer-service voice.

“I don’t think I can get you just a side of coleslaw. Can I get you something else? Maybe something that comes with coleslaw?”

“I really don’t want anything else. I just want coleslaw.”

“Okay… but sir, it’s really the smallest possible portion, it’s just a little metal cup with three bites’ worth of salad.” I hold up my hands and make a circle shape with my fingers about the size of a half dollar coin, trying to impress upon this nitwit the concept of a fucking side of coleslaw.

“Fine,” he sighs, and it takes every ounce of my restraint not to stab one of my own eyes out with my pencil, “can I get it on the side of some fries?”

Fries. Are. Also. A. Side. Someone please kill me. You know what? Fuck it. Fine. I surrender and jot down “kill me now” on my notepad next to a sketch of a little dagger dripping blood.

“Wait, what’s actually in the coleslaw?”

As tempted as I am to do my best Charlton Heston Soylent Green impersonation to run this asshole out of my restaurant, I draw a deep breath and begin a faithful recitation of the ingredients in the most common side dish in America. “Cabbage, carrots, mayo…”

“Oh, I don’t like carrots.”

“So… you don’t want the coleslaw?”

“No, I do, I just don’t want the carrots.”

“Okay, but… it’s just that… we buy the coleslaw as a mix, sir. The carrots are just part of it.”

“If it’s such a small scoop, then it shouldn’t be that hard to take them out, right?”

My anger flashes, but then a different voice, more nasal than this guy’s but much more pleasing, floods my brain.

“You wear your feelings right… here.”

The memory is so immediate, I can even feel the weight of Stone’s hand perched on my shoulder, and for a split second I even glance to my left to see if I can spot his fingers there.

Of course they’re not there. God, I’m such a fucking idiot. I haven’t seen or heard from Stone since he literally ran out of my apartment. Not even a phone call, and it’s been four days. There’s only one logical conclusion to draw. I crossed a line when I kissed him, and he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. He must have spent that whole day at my place because Lucy asked him to. And probably because he felt sorry for me, too. That’s all. Nothing more.

But I had to go and kiss him, uninvited, like a jerk. And that’s not even the first time! When I think back to that night we spent at his place, back to that moment in the tree, when I was so sure I understood his feelings: who kissed who? Me. I started it. I was the one who attacked him, not the other way around. He was the one trying to slow everything down.

“Oh yeah, that’s why you came over here and threw yourself at me last night, the overwhelming happiness of it all.”

Again Stone’s old words resound in my ears, only this time they aren’t the tender ones from my bed the other day but the harsh, mocking ones after we woke up together in his. It couldn’t be plainer that I’ve been misreading his feelings all along. Maybe he really did suffer some temporary insanity that night, and he thought he had feelings for me, but it was only because he got carried away, and now that he sees what a fucking trainwreck I am, he regrets all of it.

Or maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he actually did want me, maybe his affection did come from a genuine place after all, but who can blame him for losing interest in someone who’s stupid enough to be cheated on for an entire year? I’m like the textbook definition of damaged goods, so it’s only natural that his feelings have changed.

“I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can do to make me not want you.”

Damn these stupid hallucinations. My pulse quickens as my body remembers his touch under the hemlock tree in perfect detail. I believe he did really want me, for a while. But we’re not there anymore. We’re here. Wherever here is. So much has happened since that night. And I obviously figured out how to drive him away after all. He doesn’t feel the same way anymore. I can’t blame him for that. The shittiest part is that I feel like I owe him an apology, an explanation, a promise that I’ll stop throwing myself at him, except that even calling him to tell him that much feels like overstepping a boundary. He doesn’t want to talk to me. Message received loud and clear. I can take a hint. I just hope I haven’t ruined our friendship entirely. I don’t think I could take losing Stone on top of everything else.

“Miss? Hello, earth to Carrots over here?”

On the bright side, my misery over my situation with Stone is enough to shake off the murderous rage I was just feeling toward Coleslaw Guy. I can always spit in the guy’s salad, anyway. Maybe there’s a slight chance I’m still contagious. Always a silver lining somewhere.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be back with your order soon.”

Turning my back to his table, I make eye contact with Emily over at the bar, who has evidently been watching the entire exchange with Coleslaw Guy for her evening entertainment.

“Welcome back, Cora, we saved the best tables for you.”

“I’m ever so grateful! How will I ever, ever repay you?” I fawn, laying my accent on thicker. “Oh, I know. You win the grand prize, you get to help me pick the carrots out of that guy’s coleslaw with tweezers.”

“What??”

“He asked me to uncarrot his coleslaw. You can’t make this shit up.”

“And you actually agreed to do it?”

“I’m broke, Em, I’ll humiliate myself a real whole lot for a decent tip.”

“Well don’t look now, ‘cause your favorite riff raff are descending. Worst tippers I’ve ever seen, but at least they’re cute about it.”

She nods over my shoulder, and I turn around to figure out what she means. My stomach lurches when I spot a familiar group of idiots gathered on the sidewalk, waving enthusiastically through the window like a bunch of well-wishers on a dock seeing off a cruise ship. Jeff’s grinning cross-eyed, Lucy’s practicing her Queen of England wave, and Chris and Matt blow sloppy kisses from behind them. But that’s nothing compared to Mike, who pulls up his shirt to press his nipple against the glass in a display of wanton desire, causing the customers closest to the window to scoot their chairs back several inches in alarm.

“Oh god, no…” Emily shields her eyes, blushing scarlet to the roots of her hair and bustling out of sight, which is almost enough to sidetrack me from noticing that Stone’s the only one who’s not clowning around. And now he’s the only one I can see. Standing off to the side, one arm cradling a 12-pack of beer and the other hand shoved deep in the pocket of his brown coat, looking anywhere but at our friends or through the window at me. Looking annoyed, more than anything else. Looking like he’d like to be anywhere but here. Whoever’s idea it was to drop by and assault the window of my cafe, it certainly wasn’t his. What happened to all the oxygen in this place? Why can’t I breathe?

Stone disappears out of sight down the sidewalk, and the rest of the guys, having gotten the reaction they wanted, follow after him. Lucy waves at them before ducking inside, much to the apprehension of the customers who were closest to Mike’s nipple.

“I swear I’ve never seen those people before in my life,” she reassures them with a sunny smile as she makes her way over to me.

“To what did I owe that eye-gouging spectacle?”

“They were just glad to see you back at work, I think they miss monopolizing your section.” Lucy parks on a barstool and pockets the stolen cookie wrapped in a napkin that I’ve just handed her with as much stealth as a thief in broad daylight can manage.

“Not enough to stop by for dinner though, huh?”

“Nah, they’re gonna go practice. They’ve got that show in a few days, and I think they’ve done fuck-all so far to prepare for it.”

“Ah, right, I forgot all about that.”

Liar. Their show at the Off Ramp on Tuesday has been on my mind all week. I’ve been trying to decide whether I should go or not. I’m not even going to bother asking Lucy, because I know what she’ll say if I tell her I’m considering skipping it.

“But I think they were gonna swing by for dinner later,” she goes on. “How late are you working?”

Oh, sure they will. And then Stone will skip off to that root canal he’s been looking forward to. I start reorganizing coffee mugs to give myself something more productive to do.

“Oh, uh, my shift’s almost done.”

“Great! Then you can come by the gallery when you get off?”

“I should really catch up on schoolwork, Luce, I have a paper to present on Monday, and…” somehow reorganizing the mugs has become a game to see how high I can stack them before they fall, and now Lucy and I are both staring at my handiwork.

“At least pretend to humor the idea before you shoot it down, will you?”

“I’m not shooting anything down,” there’s been more than enough shooting down happening in my life lately for my tastes, “I just have a lot to do.”

My friend lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I don’t suppose this is another one of those ‘avoiding Stone’ attempts you’re always so successful at?”

“What? No.”

“Hey, you don’t get to act surprised. I’m on solid ground here! You’ve got priors!”

The mug on the top of my impressive tower slips off, and Lucy makes a remarkable save while I stabilize the rest of my construction.

“I should probably put these back,” I mutter, hoping for a change of subject as I return the mugs to their proper arrangement.

“I knew it, you’re avoiding him. What did he do now?” she frowns. “Did he do something stupid that day he came over?”

Him? No. He did nothing wrong. Me, on the other hand… stupid slut who throws herself at anyone who shows her the slightest hint of affection…

“What? Of course not. He was great.”

“Uh huh. So then you’re avoiding him because…?”

“I’m not avoiding him!”

“Come on, Cora, cut the shit, yes you are.”

“It’s not like he’s called me either, you know. It’s just been kinda quiet for a few days, don’t make a big thing about it.”

“Wait, he hasn’t called you either?” she wrinkles her whole face in confusion. Me too, friend! That’s what I’ve been saying! I’m not avoiding him! He’s avoiding me! I’m just following his lead and trying not to make him any more uncomfortable around me than he already is! Oh no, what if she thinks she needs to meddle and try to push us closer together? Is that why she called him to come over and help me pack in the first place? No, no, I need to nip this suspicion in the bud before she makes everything worse.

“No, but it’s not a big deal, really. Maybe I can stop by practice for a couple of minutes. We’ll see how I feel when I get done here, I’m pretty tired.”

“Yes!” She fist-pumps in triumph. “Admit it, woman, you need socialization. This hermit thing is not a good look for you. Now that I’m on a roll, what about movie night tomorrow?”

“Lucyyyy,” I whine, slumping my shoulders for maximum pathos.

“None of the guys, just us. Pleeeeaase?” Her wheedling drowns out my whining until I cave, not wanting to make a scene.

“Ugh. Fine. One movie, I pick.”

Lucy jumps off her barstool, bouncing excitedly on her heels. “Two movies, and I get the final say.“

“What the –”

“She who wields the Blockbuster card controls the choices!”

“Tyrant! Okay, fine, at whose apartment am I serving this sentence?”

“You always have better snacks at your place,” she shrugs, breaking off a piece of the contraband cookie in her coat pocket and glancing sideways before stuffing it in her mouth, looking about as sneaky as a chipmunk storing up for winter.

“Fair point. Hey, that’s actually not a bad idea, you can pick up Jeff’s pan while you’re there.”

“Whmphch pn??” she garbles through her massive mouthful of cookie.

“Oh, uh, Eddie borrowed one. He brought over some food the other day.”

“When was that?”

“Wednesday, I think?”

“I didn’t hear about that!”

“It didn’t exactly warrant an announcement in the papers. He knew I was sick, he brought dinner over, we ate it, he left.” I shrug.

“That’s really sweet of him. What did you guys talk about?” She frowns before demolishing the rest of her treat. Why is she so interested in Eddie coming over to hang out? It’s not a big deal.

“We didn’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘we didn’t’?”

“I mean, it’s Eddie, he’s sorta the silent type.”

“Hmph,” she mutters, tossing the crumpled up napkin at my head and forming an exaggerated pout. “You don’t tell me anything anymore, you know that? I’ll see you in a little bit!”

As I watch her leave, I feel a twinge of remorse for keeping her at arm’s length lately. It’s not like I don’t want to spend time with my best friend, but it’s in her nature to want to talk about absolutely everything in excruciating detail, and what’s there to say? I was dumb enough to get strung along by Alex for an entire year, I’ve completely screwed up my entire friendship with Stone, and I don’t even understand what’s so newsworthy about a silent dinner with my neighbor.

Suddenly, tweezing carrots out of coleslaw sounds like a more manageable task than understanding my own social life.

***

“FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK!”

Mike’s outburst drowns out the dissonant sound of everyone cutting their own playing short. I share a quick glance with Chris, who looks amused more than anything as he takes the interruption to justify a beer break. Jeff’s scowling at his bass, and Matt’s got the patient expression of a saint as he rests his sticks on his snare to watch the guitarist jumping up and down.

“Mike… mellow, man, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, totally fine that our lead guitarist can’t count to seven,” I roll my eyes.

“Shut the fuck up, Stone, it’s your fault, it’s your stupid time signature. 99% of the world couldn’t figure this thing the fuck out.”

“Yeah, too bad you’re not in that other 4%, huh?”

Mike opens his mouth to retort, but he almost looks closer to tears than actual coherence, so it’s probably not a terrible thing that Matt speaks up before I do.

“Alright, it’s no big deal, let’s just try it again…”

“Yeah,” I offer in a slightly less snide tone, “let’s just go through the chord chart one more time…”

But at some muttered jumble of words out of the side of Mike’s mouth that sound distinctly like “shove it up your ass,” I decide to let Matt field this remedial music lesson and grab a drink with Chris.

As practices go, this is about as un-stressful as it ever gets, provided Cready can wrap his head around this particular song in the next couple days. I’m pretty attached to it, so I hope we can pull it off live, but in his defense, we have practiced precisely zero times so far, and it’s probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked him to play.

“He’ll get it,” Chris muses, watching Matt and Jeff take Mike through the pattern for the nth time.

“And if not, big fucking deal, it’s gonna be fun no matter what.”

“Should be,” he turns to me with his face split in a wide grin. “Are the girls gonna show up?”

“To the show, or here?” I concentrate my attention on the label of my beer can as though it’s the most fascinating design I’ve ever seen. Anything to avoid this conversation.

He shrugs. “Either. Both.”

“Beats me.” I really wish I knew, but hassling Cora about the show, or even stopping by Cyclops to try and get her attention, feels all wrong lately. She doesn’t need me breathing down her neck right now… Jesus, no harm in thinking about other scenarios that involve breathing down her neck, though, right?

“Huh. What gives? You guys still not done being idiots yet?”

“They’re always idiots,” Mike yells over his shoulder as he fucks up the riff yet again.

“Idiots who can count to seven,” I snarl, before lowering my voice so only Chris can hear. “Anyway, she’s kinda laying low lately, so I’d be surprised if she shows up, either here or Tuesday.”

“Laying low? How come?”

Oh, fuck, I keep forgetting that not everybody knows. Should I tell him? It’s really not my story to tell, and she’s so private about everything, she might murder me if she knew I told anyone.

“She still sick?” Chris presses.

“Nah,” Jeff corrects, “fuckin’ Alex had a girl on the side for like the last year, she just found out about it the other day. Walked in on them, I think.”

So much for giving Cora her privacy, although I guess that was too much to hope for with this crowd. At least I didn’t have to be the one blabbing about it, though. Thanks, Ames. Maybe if I just sit here and pound this beer, the conversation will move on soon?

“Shit…” Chris mumbles, looking slowly between Jeff and me.

“Yeah. I mean good riddance, always hated the guy and I’m fuckin’ glad he’s not my neighbor anymore, but I think Cora’s still in pretty bad shape.”

“But that means she’s single now, right?” Mike calls.

“Hey, look who finally learned math,” I kick myself for chiming back in, but Mike’s just such an easy target.

“So if she’s single, what are you waiting around for?” he goes on, and just like that, all eyes are back on me. Shit, I should have kept my mouth shut. “The two of you need to figure your thing out and just fuck already, the puppy eyes routine is getting old.”

“‘Just fuck already,’” I repeat bitterly, “Jeeesus. Does Dear Abby know about you?”

“He’s got a point,” Jeff piles on, while Chris’s eyes continue to bounce back and forth like he’s watching a ping pong tournament. “You guys just need to work it out.”

“Look, she just broke up with the guy! You think I want to be her rebound?”

If I’m being I’m honest, I don’t give a fuck what we call it. I’ll gladly be her rebound. I can handle it. I can work with that. I think even being her rebound sounds a whole lot healthier than where we’ve been, or what she’s had to deal with from Alex. And I definitely don’t need Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber here to give me relationship advice or tell me what I want. But that’s the whole fucking point, it’s not just about what I want, I’m trying to give her the space she needs. She gets that, right? Why doesn’t anybody else?

“Kinda stupid to worry about being her rebound if you’re already together, dude.”

“We are not together!”

“You’re not not together, though,” Mike butts in.

“Oh, excellent, the relationship guru speaks again. How about this, if I wanna be used for a bunch of meaningless sex with a girl who won’t even give me her phone number, you’ll be the first one I run to for advice.”

“You say that like it’s bad,” Mike shrugs.

“Alright Dr. Ruth, can you count to seven yet or what?”

To my relief, everyone seems willing to drop the topic and get back to playing, at least for a little while. But I’m the one who botches a chord when Lucy jogs down the stairs and takes a seat on the beat-up couch, because I’m too busy keeping an eye out on the stairwell for Cora to concentrate properly on playing. But soon, we’ve practiced as much as any of us feel we need to for today, and we’re packing up to leave, and Cora still hasn’t shown up. Not that I had any good reason to expect her to be here. It’s not like I specifically asked her to come. I’m starting to feel pretty shitty about that. It was lazy of me to assume that she’d show up just because Lucy planned to. I probably should have called her and asked her. I should definitely tell her I want her to be at our show. Maybe I’ve taken this “giving her space” thing a little too far. It’s been almost a week since we’ve seen or talked to each other, and we didn’t exactly part on the most crystal clear of terms. I’ve spent most of the intervening time replaying that kiss, thinking about what I should have done differently, what I should have told her instead of just leaving…

But she understands, right? We’ve been honest with each other. I feel secure about that much, at least. She knows how I feel about her. There’s no point in beating a dead horse. It was definitely the right decision not to let things get out of hand so soon after her breakup. And whatever these assholes say, it’s definitely still too soon. I’d feel like a total jerk just dropping by her work, or her place, and pushing her into anything she’s not ready for. When she’s ready to talk about it again, I’ll be here.

“Stone? You gonna take up residence down there or what?” Lucy calls.

Jesus, when did everyone leave? I grab my bag and follow them up the stairs and out onto the street. Mike and Chris have already disappeared, and Jeff’s kneeling down on the ground, occupied in an argument with his ancient bike lock, which is remaining stubbornly locked despite his best caveman efforts to jerk it open. Lucy’s standing a few paces away from him, and I spot my opportunity.

“So, uh, Cora had work, I take it?” I ask under my breath, walking backwards a few steps in the hope she’ll follow.

Lucy’s too focused on inexplicably picking crumbs out of her jacket pocket to look at me right away, but she gets the hint and trails after me so we can keep our voices down and be drowned out by Jeff’s grumbling. “Think so. I mean, her shift’s probably already done, but she wanted to catch up on school stuff.” Her gaze bounces up, having cleared the offending debris. “Have you talked to her lately?”

“You did tell me to leave her alone, as I recall.”

“I told you no such thing. I told you to keep it in your pants –”

“– check –”

“– not completely disappear. And ew, Stone, I don’t literally want an update about your pants parts.”

“I haven’t disappeared, I just wanted to give her a little space.”

Her face rearranges into that same menacing squint from the stairwell. “Not calling her for a week’s kind of extreme, don’t you think?”

Shit… maybe I did take this too far. “Did she tell you that?”

But before Lucy can respond, Jeff straightens up in the background and finally frees his bike.

“Got it! It’s that hunk of rust in the bike rack, it’s been there for like two years and it’s fucking impossible to work around.”

He kicks at a long-abandoned object barely recognizable as a bicycle, covered in grime and rust, leaning pathetically against the frame of the rack. I wave goodbye to the two of them as they head in the direction of their building, my attention now caught up in the rusty bike. I give it a good shake, and apart from needing essentially every part replaced, the frame itself seems to be intact. About the right size, too. It’s perfect. I try to pull it free myself, but the bike lock restraining it is still in decent enough shape to put up a fight. This is going to take more imagination.

***

Sunday, November 11th, 1990

“A Swayze double feature and you didn’t even get Road House? What kind of bullshit is that?”

Cora rummages through the video store bag on her kitchen counter, pouting at the movies I chose.

“Call me crazy, I’m just not in a throat-rippy-outty mood.”

“First time for everything,” she smirks, tearing into an enormous bag of red licorice, “but at least you got the right junk food.”

“Come on, not even you can argue with Dirty Dancing. And I couldn’t get any of you fuckers to see Ghost with me in theaters, so here’s your payback.”

“Christ. I’m gonna need something stronger than these to get through all this romance shit,” she chuckles around a Twizzler. “It’s official… we need brownies.”

“Only if you make them. You know I can’t bake to save my life.”

“What’s the old saying? Give a woman a brownie, feed her for a day…” she says, her back to me as she starts pulling baking supplies out of an upper cabinet.

“And at least she’ll have one glorious brownie and no food poisoning from trying to attempt the recipe herself?”

“You underestimate my teaching abilities. Just make your own batch and do as I say.” She gives a banged-up metal baking pan a blind toss over her shoulder, and I just barely manage to catch it. “Here, you make your batch in that one so you can take it back to Jeff’s when you go.”

I know that if I try to pry more information out of her about Eddie coming over for dinner, she’s just going to clam up, so as much as I’m dying to know what happened, I keep the questions to myself. What did they talk about for an entire evening? Since when do the two of them just hang out by themselves? Have I missed something between them, or is this a new development? Does Eddie know about her whole… situation with Stone? Wait a minute, I’m jumping the gun, does any of it even matter? Maybe they’re just two lonely, recently dumped people keeping each other company and it’s completely harmless, like she says. Yeah, right, sure, what could possibly go wrong with that?

“Speaking of Jeff, I feel like a shitty friend,” she goes on, pulling cocoa and sugar and who knows what other kind of baking potions out of the cabinet, “how’s stuff going there?”

Whoops. I guess I can’t complain about Cora not telling me anything lately, can I? I haven’t exactly opened up to her about my latest worries.

“It’s fine…” I stall, pretending to read the index card she’s just pulled out of nowhere with the brownie recipe on it, like it’s going to do me any good at all.

“‘Fine?’ No way. Shot first, then spill.”

She plunks a plastic bottle of tequila down in front of me and slides a shot glass over. I guess I earned that.

“Euggghh,” I fight my gag reflex after downing the garbage tequila, “are you sure that’s not nail polish remover? Anyway, everything’s really fine, there’s nothing wrong, it’s just…”

“Say fine again and you take another shot.”

“Alright! I swear, it’s not bad, he just…”

“Lucyyy? What did he do? Do I need to kill him?”

“No! God, no, he just asked me to move in with him.”

She clutches her heart and staggers backward. “Oh, the horror! What did you say to such a depraved request?”

“I told him I needed to think about it.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Uhm… last week? Same day as the whole… thing… here.” I wave my hand around the apartment, still not sure if we’re at the point in her mourning process where I can mention Alex by name or if I should keep pretending he never existed. So far she hasn’t brought him up, so I’ve been taking cues from her.

“And you haven’t talked about it since then? Jesus, you’re an ice queen. Poor guy.”

“Oh, it’s even weirder than that, he seems to think we talked about it once before, but I can’t even remember. I’m the world’s worst girlfriend.”

“Here, see this list of dry stuff? Measure, then mix.” She hands me a whisk and a big bowl, and I try to imitate what she’s doing with her own batch but I can’t help getting flour everywhere and have to pause for another shot just to get my bearings. Cora follows suit. “You’re definitely not the world’s worst girlfriend, I think that title belongs… elsewhere. But he probably deserves an answer soon, don’t you think?”

“I just…”

“SUGAR!”

“What?” Her shout makes me spill even more of the white substance I’m doing a sloppy job of measuring.

“One and a quarter cups sugar, Lucy, you’re pouring out salt!”

“Oh, for the love of…”

Cora bursts out laughing and produces a funnel with which to pour my mountain of salt back into the canister. “You were saying?”

“I don’t know, things are just really good right now, and I don’t see any reason to change them. I really like having my own place.”

My chest feels instantly lighter, having expressed the worry to the one person who probably won’t judge me for feeling it. It’s got nothing to do with Jeff. Jeff’s amazing. So amazing that I’m constantly wondering when something’s going to go terribly wrong and screw up our entire relationship, because I have no previous evidence to suggest that relationships ever last this long without something getting screwed up. Cora thinks for a long moment before handing me the jar of actual sugar.

“Sure, that makes perfect sense. I kind of envy you, honestly, having your own apartment and being able to keep just that little bit of distance. I never really figured that out. If that’s what you need, that doesn’t make you the world’s worst girlfriend.”

“Not talking to him about it kinda does, though.”

“Maybe a little. What’s his plan, though? Does he want you to move into his place or does he want to move downstairs?”

“We haven’t talked about it, I have no clue.”

“Hey, watch what you’re doing, you’re getting eggshell in the batter… and what about Eddie?”

Eddie again, huh? Even apart from the very salient point she’s just raised about my situation, it’s weird that she thought of him before I did. She’s definitely got him on the brain…

“Ugh, shit, I have no idea. I can’t ask him to move out, that would be cruel. He doesn’t know anyone else here yet! And I bet he can’t afford a place of his own.”

“I didn’t say it was a reason not to, I was just wondering if you’d thought about it. And yeah, I don’t know how anyone our age manages not to have a roommate. You corporate fat-cat types with your fancy job things and your big bloated paychecks and your bejeweled monocles, you sicken me. I’m gonna have to start selling plasma soon if I don’t figure out a better way to afford this place by myself.”

“Maybe I should just move in with you, that would solve things.”

“Somewhat undercuts your argument about liking having the apartment all to yourself, though.”

“Ooh, logic, that definitely earns a shot. Maybe a double.”

We go several more rounds debating my boyfriend dilemma, and even though we don’t come up with an answer, it feels good to talk to her about it. I probably shouldn’t have waited so long, but it felt selfish to bring it up with everything going on in her life. If it bothers her, though, she isn’t letting on. Soon the brownies are in the oven and Dirty Dancing is on the TV, and for a while neither of us have to think about guy troubles, at least, any guy troubles unrelated to Patrick Swayze’s hips.

“Fuck me, I always forget about that ‘I carried a watermelon’ thing,” Cora sputters as she gets up to check on the brownies. “Most relatable scene ever filmed.”

I cackle, spilling a little wine into my lap as I twist to shout after her, “how do they look?”

“Uh, you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Shit…”

“I mean the good news is, they look like they’re going to taste okay, no thanks to you. But I think I forgot to tell you to butter the pan first…” she holds the pan in question upside down and shakes it, freeing only a couple crumbs, and dissolving in a fit of snort laughter.

“Don’t blame me, I was just following orders!”

Cora returns with a second bottle of wine and her pan of brownies, which release from the pan much more obediently than the solid brick I baked, and we make short work of both the brownies and the wine. We’re just getting to the big finale dance scene when there’s an abrupt knock on the door that makes both of our drunk asses jump.

“DID YOU MAKE BROWNIES??”

Since it’s my dumbass boyfriend’s voice bellowing at the door, I’m the one who gets up to answer it, and sure enough, there’s Jeff, flanked by Eddie and Mike, with Stone hanging a ways back pretending to be interested in something down the hallway. They all look drunker than we do, which must have taken some effort.

“They DID!” Mike shouts, elbowing past me and making a beeline for Cora’s kitchen. Before either she or I can say anything, he’s attacking the solid mass of brownie in my pan with a fork, undeterred by the aesthetics. Cora’s watching him with a mix of amusement and horror, and I turn back to Jeff for answers.

“Are you guys drunk?”

“Who’sh drunk?” Mike retorts, confirming the answer.

“We, uh, stopped by Cyclops for a few rounds after practice –” Jeff explains.

“– and whose idea was that?” I ask as quietly as I can, watching Stone fidget in the background and Eddie looking like he’s trying to summon an interdimensional portal in the floor beneath his shoes, as usual.

“– but then we remembered you guys would be here doing your movie night thing, and the food’s free here, which is a vast improvement over Cyclops, so…”

I look back at Cora, who’s already getting up from the couch with a grin on her face, resigned to feeding the inebriated invaders. But then her face blanches as if she’s seen a ghost, and I realize she’s only just now noticed Stone. She hurries into the kitchen and sticks her face in the fridge.

“No Matt? Chris?” she calls.

“No, Matt ditched us after practice for a date, and Chris said he’d be by later, he wanted to make a detour on the way,” Eddie says, slinking past me with a mumbled apology, followed by Stone.

“What part of girls’ night did you not understand?” I round on Jeff, but he’s looking so sheepish that it’s impossible to stay mad at him for long. I settle for a bite of his lip before I let him into the apartment.

***

“Sorry we crashed your movie night,” an unmistakable low rumble says behind me as I’m pulling a six pack out of the fridge.

“Are you kidding? Did you see her selections? I should be thanking you for the distraction.” I straighten up and see Eddie standing in my kitchen, shoulders hunched but barely containing a tight-lipped smile.

“How bad can it be?”

But the sound of Mike and Jeff singing along with Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes answers his question, and he gives a somber nod.

“As long as they don’t attempt the lift, we should be okay. Here, if you have lingering guilt about ruining our evening, your punishment is that you get to take your pan home and clean it, it’s a disaster.”

He takes the baking pan from me, inspecting the caked-on brownie mess left behind after Cready ravaged the edible contents. “Thanks, sorry, I didn’t mean to leave it here.”

Rather than responding, I watch him studying the pan for a moment. I wish I could figure out what to make of this guy. He’s always around at the worst possible moments. It’s a punchline at this point – if I have a horrible day, or if I’m doing my best to be left alone, I know to keep my eyes peeled for Eddie, because I’m bound to run into him. The weird thing is that I don’t even mind it as much anymore. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t expect anything of me, or maybe it’s that we have a weird amount of things in common and I don’t ever feel as though I have to explain myself to him, I don’t know. I’m just… I’m just really glad I met him when I did, and I have no idea how to tell him that without making him uncomfortable, especially since I’m starting to choke up, which is a completely horrifying development.

“Hey, Eddie, I –”

But before I can say anything else, my front door bursts open again, and this time it’s Chris, wearing a wicked smile and carrying large boxes under either arm.

“I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie and I trade winces and then head into the other room to figure out what kind of havoc he’s brought with him. The larger of the two boxes is a 24-pack of shitty beer, which is pretty much par for the course. It’s the label on the other box that I can’t quite… oh my god, he wouldn’t…

“Safety first, Smokey,” he sing-songs as he pushes a value-sized box of condoms against my chest, shoving harder and harder until I finally put my hands on it or risk being knocked over. “Welcome to the dating pool, you’re gonna hate it.”

“Already do,” I cringe, doing my best to ignore the wolf-whistles and applause from the couch behind me. “I’ll just… put these… somewhere…”

“Somewhere you can reach ‘em! Don’t listen to the Pope, you’re gonna need ‘em, it’s a jungle out there!” Chris calls after me as I chuck them into the darkness of my bedroom and close the door, hoping like hell that they’ll land somewhere inconspicuous and I won’t have to relive this mortification ever again. He’s wrong, I’m not gonna need them, they’ll expire before I ever crack open the box, it’s not like there’s a line of dudes beating down my door… I mean, apart from these idiots… and not for reasons that would require prophylactics… oh god, stop thinking about Stone… ugh, I hate my life…

The movie’s already starting by the time I re-join everyone in the living room. Chris is sprawled on the armchair, Mike’s co-opted all of the pillows from my window seat to make himself a nest on the floor, Eddie’s sitting primly in a dining room chair he dragged a few inches away from the table, Lucy’s sitting on Jeff’s lap on one end of the couch, and the only remaining seat, naturally, because that’s how this night is going, is between the two of them and Stone, who’s seated at the other end. He’s got one arm stretched out along the back of the couch and his eyes on the screen, and I’m debating whether I should risk sitting down next to him or find some excuse to avoid it, like washing dishes or lighting myself on fire, when his gaze flickers up to me. In a movement that’s almost a flinch, he folds at the elbow and starts fidgeting with his own ponytail, not entirely removing his arm from behind the only available seat, but at least freeing up a little space, so I take that as a sign that it’s okay for me to sit down. I can feel his obnoxious, beautiful, searching eyes on me as I do, and I do my best to shrink into the cushion, take up as little space as I can, breathe more quietly than normal, anything to avoid the reality that this is the closest together we’ve been since I kissed him. I fold my knees up underneath my chin, hoping he can’t tell that my heart’s racing. Why can’t I just be normal around him now?

“You got enough space?” he whispers. I nod, unwilling to look over at him even though I know he’s still staring at me. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he didn’t look so at home on my sofa. I wish he wasn’t so cute in a baseball cap. I wish he didn’t smell so good. I wish I could stop cataloging his every distracting fidget with the label of his beer bottle or a piece of lint on the couch. For the first and probably last time ever, I wish I could just pay excruciatingly close attention to Ghost.

That last wish turns out to be a mistake when the main characters start fornicating over a pottery wheel to one of the most romantic songs of all time barely ten minutes into the film. Just fucking kill me, this scene goes on forever! Why won’t Stone move his fucking arm from behind the couch?! As if on cue, he leans over and gives a nervous chuckle in my ear.

“They’re really establishing the hell out of this sex scene, huh?”

I can’t bring myself to look at him again, so I just nod, hoping it’s too dark for him to see how red my face is.

“Wait, wait, their hands are clean now! When did they take the time to wash off all that clay?” Jeff shouts, as if he’s disagreeing with a ref’s call at a basketball game. “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG, PATRICK!”

“Jesus, Demi Moore’s sculpting phallic pottery half naked, and you’re paying attention to their handwashing habits?” Stone cranes his neck to gawk at Jeff behind me. “You’re a lucky girl, Lucy.” I lean forward to dodge Jeff’s swipe, which hits its target with a satisfying smack.

Fortunately, the rest of the movie is significantly less embarrassing, and although I’d never admit it to Lucy, it’s not completely terrible. Nearly everyone else has fallen asleep by the time it’s over, with Stone and me seemingly the only ones who manage to stay awake despite the somniferous effect of all the booze and sugar. I don’t know what his excuse is, but I’m still feeling completely wired just from sitting next to him. God, this is why I was single all throughout high school, I can’t just be normal around a guy I have feelings for, I have to make everything awkward for myself. That, and I imbue every little interaction with too much meaning, I mean, he’s probably just watching the movie, there’s no way he’s sitting here analyzing my every movement out of the corner of his eye, the way I’ve been doing to him. At this age, I should know better than to let my expectations run away with me, right? I’m so stupid. This is what we are now, we’re just friends, I need to get that through my head.

And speaking of unrealistic expectations, when the whole group eventually wakes up and heads for the door, I find myself idiotically hoping Stone will circle back after saying goodnight just to say something privately to me, and of course it doesn’t happen. He leaves with everyone else, because what would he even have to say to me? It’s all in my head, anyway.

#behind the sun #chapter 27 #pearl jam #fanfiction #fanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #mike mccready #matt cameron #jeff ament #chris cornell

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deans-baby-momma · 5 years

Text

The Padackles Link-Chapter 38

The ride back to the apartment is quiet. Jared knows he had given me a lot to think about and that is exactly what I am doing.

The way I have pushed Jensen away, not letting him in. Grieving for the child I lost; no, WE lost. The baby was as much his as it was mine. And in my grieving and pushing him out, I hadn't even considered he's been grieving just as much. And in his mourning, he still tried to take care of me. Making sure I ate, making sure I stayed healthy for our other son.

By the time we pull into the lot for the apartment, I have made a decision. I am going to apologize profusely for shutting him out. I am going to prove to Jay I still love him and need him.

Jared shifts into park and I turn to look at him. He smiles timidly. I can tell he is afraid he'd overstepped boundaries by giving me "the talk".

"Jared, thank you. Thank you for pampering me with a trip to the spa," I tell him. "And thank you immensely for opening up and telling me about your struggles." I reach over and grab his hand, holding it in mine. "You made me realize that I'm not in this alone."

"No, you're not Drea. We are all here for you. You are a friend to me and Gen and we hate seeing you have to go through this. We are here for both you and Jay. For whatever. Need a shoulder to cry on? I can take it. Need a day away? Well, as you can see I'm comfortable with that." His smile widens. "Just don't ask me to get my nails done," he says chuckling, causing me to laugh.

"Oh no. Hair, makeup and nails are more Gen's venue, I know."

"So glad that's cleared up," he says, mocking relief. "Now, go on. Get out of here and reconcile with your man. "

I lean over and kiss his cheek before opening the door and sliding out. I look up at the building in front of me and sigh. 'Let's go make this right', I think to myself.

The apartment door is unlocked so I walk in, sitting my purse on the little table beside the entryway. I walk through to the kitchen and see Jay sitting there, his back to me. I lean against the jamb and watch. His shoulders are slumped and shaking; he’s crying. I stand there, feeling terrible. He thinks he has to hide his grief from me! Well I guess that is understandable, in my anguish he didn’t want to add to it.

I walk up behind him and put my hand on his shoulder, noticing the first ultrasound picture of the boys; the one from when it was revealed that there were two boys. He had been staring at it, I know. Jensen jumps and quickly wipes his face. He turns toward me and the look on his face breaks my heart. His eyes are red-rimmed and beginning to get bloodshot; his tears dried on his cheeks, a faint flush covering them. “Sorry Drea. I didn’t hear you come in. How was your day with Jared?”

"Jay,” I sigh out “I know I have no right to ask you to forgive me. I've pushed you away and only thought about my own pain. I was selfish to not think about how you were grieving and yet you still stayed strong and tried to help me during this dark time,” I explain as I sit on the chair next to him, taking his hand from his thigh and holding it between mine. “But I want to say I'm sorry. What I did was wrong. I shouldn't be pushing you away; I should be pulling you closer. We should be working through this together and if you can forgive me I would really like to try and do that.

“We both lost a child. It wasn’t just me, it wasn’t just you and I want us to mourn together, get through this together. I love you so much.”

Jensen listened to me intently as I talked, telling him how sorry I was for my actions. As I finished, his lips curled into a small smile., the crinkles appearing on each side of his eyes. He leans forward, his free hand cupping my jaw. “I love you Drea. So much! I know this has been hard on you. Even more than me but I am here for you. I just want to hold you and comfort you. You’re right, we need to get through this together. I’ve held back around you but it’s killing me to see you in pain and to know there is nothing I can do to take it all away. And I’ve heard your cries. I’ve heard your thoughts. This was not your fault, honey. The doctor said that there really is no explanation for what happened. It was nothing you did or didn’t do,” he continues as his thumbs wipes away the tears sliding down my face. “Don’t cry baby. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jensen stands up and tugs me out of the chair, pulling my body to his. “We will get through this. Yes, we lost a baby. Yes, we are both hurting. But together we will survive.” I lay my head against his chest and feel his lips on the crown of my head. I look up to him, green eyes meet green eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck and he lowers his head, lightly placing his lips on mine. “Together,” I whisper against them.

Two days later, the network called and demanded the guys return to Vancouver to resume filming. Jensen didn’t want to leave but I assured him that I was in a much better frame of mind and promised to keep him updated and informed whenever I felt down or sad.

I joined Gen and the boys at their house to see Jensen and Jared off. After the guys left, we began making plans to get us moved into our new place so when they came home for winter hiatus, Jensen and I could finally have a place to call our own. Gen suggested hiring movers to do the job since neither one of us were in a position to carry heavy boxes or furniture.The weekend before Thanksgiving, almost three weeks after the loss, all our belongings had been transferred to the new place.

With the weather being unseasonably warm, Gen and I were lounging on the back patio while Tom and Shep ran around in the backyard, finding bugs and chasing the birds that dared to land. I watched and laughed as Shep on his wobbly legs tried to catch a butterfly. “He’s determined to get it,” Gen chuckled.

“Yea,” I answered. “It’s cute. And Tom catching and showing him. You’re lucky they are so close in age. Got someone to play and grow up with.”

Gen turned to me, the look in her eyes as she realized what I was talking about. “Drea, do I need to call Jay? Are you going dark on me?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “No. Nothing like that. Just observing.” I glanced up at the cloudless sky. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. You know you can.”

“Would it be wrong for me to want some type of memorial for him? Not like a headstone or anything creepy like that,” I quickly rectified. “Just something that in a few years I can tell him that he had a twin and show him something, you know? All I have now is the ultrasound picture.”

“Honestly, Drea? I think that is a great idea. And if you think it will help you to heal, then I say who cares what other people think, do it! What are you thinking?”

“I don’t really know,” I answered her, giggling. “Like I want something to memorialize him but not be completely morbid. I have no idea.”

“Listen, I think it’s an excellent idea. And I think you should go with it. You and Jay can have a private memorial here at home, just the two of you.”

“You think he’ll think I’m crazy?”

“Not at all, darlin’.”

Two days before Thanksgiving I find myself sitting the Padalecki’s SUV in the pick-up lane at the airport awaiting Jensen and Jared’s return; Gen was inside, watching for the guys while her sons slept in the backseat. With it being a holiday week, it was decided that I would wait in the SUV until they grabbed their luggage and made it outside; the airport was just too busy for a pregnant lady to try and maneuver through the swarms of people.

I watched continually as those same swarms exited the airport, grabbing cabs and buses off to their own destinations. When the crowds dwindled down to almost extinct, did I see the one person who made my life a bit brighter. Walking through the automatic doors of the building, Jensen strode straight toward the parked SUV.

His bow-legged swagger and swift steps brought him to the vehicle quickly. He was wearing a lightweight jacket over the tee and flannel combo; a pair of tight light washed jeans and a ballcap. Not totally incognito, but enough of a disguise that not many had gave him more than two glances. As soon as he was close enough that I could step outside of the vehicle and still hear the boys if they woke up, that is what I did. Jensen smiled and walked straight into my outstretched arms. “God, I missed you baby.”

“Missed you too Jay.”

Once home, later that night, we lay in bed my head on his chest; listening to Jay describe that last few days of pranks and practical jokes he and Jared played on their co-stars. I laughed but pitied their most frequent victim, Misha.

“I tell you, baby he never saw it coming!”

“Well yea, for being a giant Jared has an unnatural ability to sneak up on people.”

Jensen laughs out loud in agreement. “That he does.” I feel Jays’ lips on the top of my head and I roll over to look up at him.

“Jay?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too baby.”

“I’ve missed us,” I repeat, hoping he catches the message. By the look in his eyes, he does.

“Drea, are you sure?”

“Yea, I am,” I sigh. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us. We went through something terrible but we got through it. I love you Jay. I want to make love with you.” I tell him as I crawl over to lay on top of him, kissing his lips. “Jay, make love to me please?” I whisper against his lips.

Jensen’s arms quickly surround me and he pulls my body closer to his, deepening the kiss. I surrender to him and he easily rolls our entwined bodies until he is hovering me.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he says as he pulls my sleep shorts and panties off before reaching for his boxers.

“You won’t,” I assure him while taking off my top, flinging it to the floor. Jensen holds himself up on his hands over me, bending down and taking a nipple in his mouth. He laves his tongue over and around the peak until it hardens then he promptly pulls it between his lips and suckles. My fingers card through his hair as he kisses across my chest to give my other breast the same treatment.

As soon as he was satisfied that proper attention was given to both boobs, he kissed up my chest, over my collarbone and pecked continual kisses in the dip where my neck meets my shoulder. I whine and he situates himself between my legs, his hips pressing against mine. I feel his hardened length against my thigh. He reaches between our bodies and runs his thumb over my clit gently, his finger dipping into my heat. After a few minutes, his hand disappears and I look down as he does; his hand pumping himself and then lining up to my entrance. He slowly sinks in until he is fully sheathed inside me. The sensation of being connected as one is overwhelming. It’s as if our souls are tethered together and hard to tell where mine ends and his begins.

Once he realizes I am wholly comfortable does he start moving. His thrusts are never hurried and he keeps the same pace the whole time. Our eyes meet and we keep the gaze one on another the whole time, pecking lips; not fully kissing but just reassuring the other that we are there and everything is going to be okay.

After cleaning up and re-dressing we resume our position from before; Jensen laying on his back with my head on his chest. I know we have just finished making love but my conversation with Gen keeps popping into my head. I know I need to talk to him about my idea and see if he is on board with it or not. I kiss the skin under his cheek and look up into those beautiful emerald eyes I love so much. “Jay, can we talk?”

@81mysteriouslyme

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walkerismychoice · 6 years

Text

Queen of My Heart Chapter 33

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: PG

Summary: Savannah’s back with convenient timing. Will it be a happy family reunion?

A/N: Thanks to everyone who is still reading this! I know its been going on forever and is a monster of a fic. I’m trying to balance out trying to write a good story to the end, and just wanting to be able to finish it. So its not always my best work, but hopefully still enjoyable.

Tag List: @choices-fanatic, @tmarie82, @butindeed, @boneandfur, @bobasheebaby @traeumerinwitzhelden, @simplyaiden-blog, @i-miss-trr, @theroyalweisme, @umccall71, @enmchoices, @jadedpixiescribbles, @jlouise88, @drakelover78, @queencatherynerhys, @mfackenthal, @speedyoperarascalparty, @viktoriapetit, @silviasutton1989, @krisnicjack, @drakesfiance, @hamulau, @jamielea81, @andy-loves-corgis, @devineinterventions2, @liam-rhys, @drakewalkerfantasy, @withice, @confessionsofabrokegirl, @notoriouscs, @choiceswreckedme, @blackcatkita, @akrenich

Word Count: 1497

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“What’s all the commotion in here?” Bertrand rounded the corner with Maxwell not far behind. “Savannah?!”

“Oh, Shit!” Maxwell stood frozen in place, looking like he wanted to turn right back around walk out of the room. Drake was motionless, his mouth agape at the sight of his sister who had been missing for so long. Riley’s was trying to piece everything together in her head. Why would Savannah be showing up here now with a camera crew unless...

“Hi, Bertrand. Meet your son, Bartie, short for Barthelmy.” Savannah handed Bertrand the baby and he held him with arms outstretched like he didn’t know what to do.

“My what? How can this be? Turn the camera’s off, please.”

Despite Bertrand's pleas, the cameras kept rolling. Riley saw Jo standing in the back watching it all unfold with a satisfied look on her face. “Jo, tell them to turn the camera’s off, or I’m done.

Jo scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, shut them off, but we will re-film the scene to get the footage we need once you have all settled down.”

Riley glared at Jo. “How long have you known? Have you been holding back with this information, waiting for the right time to use it?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Jo pointed to Savannah. “She could have contacted Drake or Bertrand at any time. Without us, she may have never come back. You all should be thanking the show right now.”

“I need a minute.” Drake ran his hand through his hair and walked outside.

“I second that.” Bertrand stated before handing Bartie back to Savannah and walking towards the Kitchen.

“Hi Savannah. So nice to see you again!” Maxwell wrapped her and Bartie in one of his signature hugs. “We can catch up in a bit, but I better go check on Bertrand."

"Maybe I should go check on Drake." Savannah replied.

"I'm not trying to overstep, but I don't know if that's a good idea. I'll go." Riley volunteered and left before Savannah could respond.

Drake hadn’t made it far before Riley caught up with him. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I realize this is a lot to take in.”

“She has a baby...with Bertrand of all people.” Drake shook his head, his expression somewhere between anger and disbelief. “Why didn’t she think she could come to me with this? It hurts that she didn’t trust me. I should be happy that she’s here and she’s okay, but if the show hadn’t brought her, would she have ever come back?”

“I’m sorry, Drake, but I think you need to give her a chance to tell you...when you are ready, of course.”

“I’m not going to run away from her like she did to me. I’m ready.”

“Lead the way.” Riley motioned to the doors and they went back in to speak with Savannah. Maxwell was already practically pushing Bertrand back into the room. They all sat around the sitting room focused on Savannah.

“There’s a lot I want to say to both Drake and Bertrand privately, but I will give you all the main details. I found out I was pregnant a little over a year ago. Bertrand and I had been seeing each other, if you could call it that. I came here to tell him, but before I could, he broke things off with me. I didn’t want to seem desperate, like I was making up a pregnancy or using it just to keep him, so I decided to leave and start a new life in Paris.”

Riley could see the wheels turning in Drake’s head. “Paris? Wait.” He pulled out his phone with the image of the envelope and showed it to Savannah. Is this your address?”

“Yes, where did you get that?”

“You bastard! I guess you are exactly like your father, not wanting anything to do with your child, but thinking throwing money at him will make things all better.” Drake stood up, fists balled and made a move towards Bertrand.

“Wait!” Maxwell jumped up off the couch and in front of Drake. “That wasn’t Bertrand’s envelope. It was mine. Bertrand didn’t know about the baby until just now, but I have known all along. I’m the one who’s been sending her money, pretending I was spending it on foolish things so Bertrand wouldn’t catch on.

Drake scowled. “Then maybe I should hit you instead.”

“Drake, don’t.” Riley pleaded. “You don’t want to do anything you’ll regret later.” She coaxed him to sit back down next to her. “I think we should let Savannah finish.”

“It’s true, Maxwell was the only one who knew. I didn’t mean to tell him, but he saw me running out of here in tears after Bertrand rejected me. He wouldn’t let me go until I told him everything. I made him promise not to tell Bertrand and he kept that promise. I told him I wouldn’t accept any money, but he insisted. I was alone, and didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”

“You had me, Sav, and Bastien. We wouldn’t have judged you,” Drake stated with hurt in his eyes.

“I know it was foolish, but at the time, I didn’t think I could tell anyone. Maxwell just happened to be at the right place at the right time.” Savannah turned to Bertrand. “You’ve been quiet. Do you have any questions for me?”

Bertrand looked dazed. “I’m honestly still in shock. The reality hasn’t set in yet. I just don’t know what to say.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere and talk privately,” Savannah suggested and Bertrand obliged, telling Maxwell and Riley they could be relieved of their duties and get some rest before the party.

“Excellent!” Jo chimed in from the background. “I’m sure we can edit that into some heartwarming family reunion tale for this episode. Baby Bartie is your nephew after all, Riley. Now the whole family is here.” She told the crew to go on break until the party guests were to arrive.

Riley was fuming inside. Jo pulled this stunt for purely selfish reasons. She could have brought Savannah back at any time but did it now just to be able to use it as part of the show. The only silver lining was that now Savannah was back, and hopefully she and Bartie could be part of Drake’s life again, and she supposed hers as well. She couldn’t believe she was Bartie’s aunt and Drake was his uncle.

Riley followed Drake to his room. “Do you need some alone time?”

“Normally I would say yes, but you are just about the only person I want to be around, Bennett. He flopped down on the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come here.” He held out his arms and she snuggled into him. They held each other in silence for a while before Drake spoke. “I’m happy shes’s back, but we still have a lot to work through. After my mom left, and then Savannah, I thought I wouldn’t be able to count on anyone. Not until I met you.” He stroked her hair and the sparkle returned to his eyes.

Riley smiled. “I’m not going anywhere until you make me leave.”

“Never. I love you Riley, more than I ever thought I could.”

“I love you too Drake.” She cupped his cheeks and kissed him deeply, their bodies melding into one another. They pulled apart and just stared at one another until Riley spoke again. “You know, Bartie is pretty cute. It kind of makes me wonder if our kids would look like him.” It slipped out without much thought, and she braced herself, hoping it wouldn’t freak Drake out too much.

A smirk appeared on Drake’s lips. “Are you saying you want to have my babies, Bennett?”

“Well, I just meant, he shares both of our genes, so if we ever did have kids-”

Drake cut her off. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’ll let you have all of my babies. Well not too many. Two or three would be good.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about this?” Riley teased him back, happy they wanted the same things.

“What can I say, Bennett? You’ve got some kind of power over me. A few months ago I figured I’d probably end up alone, and now you’ve got me thinking about a future with you.”

“Remember the first night we met when I told you I’d make you like me?” Riley asked. “I think it worked a little too well.”

Drake chuckled. “Yep, and now you’re stuck with me and only have yourself to blame.”

“I’ll gladly accept the consequences. But first, I could use a nap so I don’t fall asleep at the big party tonight.” Riley gave Drake a peck on the lips and laid her head down on him, drifting off the rhythm of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

#playchoices fanfiction #the royal romance #drake walker #drake x mc #qomh #my fic

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c-atm · 5 years

Text

Snow day Prompt: Bittersweet meeting *p1*

“Looks like it'll be a big storm. Don't think the others are coming today.." The seventeen year old stated as he looked at the start of snowfall.

Part of him wanted to leave as well but his pride as club leader president wouldn't allow him, you never know who might need some assistance or help in this school, which is why he created the 'Crystal gems'.

From student counseling to school events to setting parlays between students, the Crystal gems goal is to make every Diamond high student as smooth as possible. Which is why they, for the most part, butt heads with student council every so often.

The SC feels that the CG overstep their boundaries at times. Though they cannot deny the good they have done. Even if their methods come off as questionable. It's less animosity and more of a rivalry between the two on whose better for the school. Still they get some funding from the treasury cause they are an official club, that get results.

“Universe..Shouldn't you be heading out?” a gruff voice called out to him. He turned to see three girls standing in the hall, looking in.He gave them a small smile before taking a seat on the club rooms sofa.

“Awe...You're worry about me Jasp, That's sweet of you cuz.”

The girl in question scoffed lightly as she hid her small smile under her orange scarf. Tall and muscular but also very feminine, with wild white hair, gold contacts and faded brown skin with white stripes of vitiligo; which only made her more exotic.Her name’s Jasper, vice president of the student council and his younger cousin.

Behind her stood two others. A slender woman of average height and a swimmers build. Her ocean colored hair and dark sand colored skin, with striking eyes as blue as her namesake Lapis lazuli. She was the secretary of the student council and scuba team Captain.

The last part of this trio was small and shapely, just braking five feet, five-three with her gravity defying, greenish-blonde hair, a natural light tan, her infamous goggles over some of the brightest green eyes you'd ever seen. The student council treasurer and fire cracker, Peridot.

all three were dress in the standard academy uniform( White blazer, yellow blouse, pink tie and blue skirt) under their wool, leather and down coats, respectively.

“Joking aside, she's right Steven..We're supposed to be getting a few feet through the night. It's best if you head home now, before it gets worst...We’d wait for you, if you want.” The bluenette suggested with a small smile.

“Tempting, but I still have some work to finish, beside you never know who might need some advice.” Lapis’s smiled faltered a bit at his refusal.

“Told you, he'd say no. Him and Boss are both the same.” Peridot sighed exasperatedly

“So, the President still here as well? That works in my favor, there something i wanted to discuss with her.”

The three girls looked as Steven to rub his chin and a small smirk appeared on his lips. While Peridot grinned, almost cackled; Jasper sent Lapis a apologetically knowing glance, who in responded in a slight wave. Jasper cleared her throat before walking up to Steven,her left hand open and free, her right held the keys to her car.

“Your keys, give’em here Steven.”

Steven would have argued a bit, but the fact that she used her ‘family’ tone and gave him the look she always did when she was worried about other, left him no resistance. He dug into the back of his slacks and produced a key to his motorcycle with a small pink lion plush on one of the chains. The two exchanged keys, before Jasper headed to the locker in the far left and grabbed three helmets and some goggles from it. She passed the green one to Peridot, a blue to Lapis and kept a large orange one and the goggles for herself.

“Don’t stay too late Steven…”

“And you don’t go too fast on lion…” He turned towards the other two “Make sure she don’t break 25, just because it’s not that bad yet and I had the tires redone for the season, dosen't mean your perfectly safe.”

Lapis and Peridot gave their word, despite Jasper protest of being a responsible driver. A protest that ended shortly after Steven admitted to trusting her with his ride, making her feel a bit smug.

“Alright guys, we should head home before we all have to load up in Jasper tuna can of a car.”

Jasper growled at Peridot’s comment before giving her cousin a quick one armed hug, Not to be left out; Peridot gave the young man a quick friendly hug causing the tallest girl to roll her eyes and Steven to chuckle. He blushed when he heard Peri whispered something into his stomach and the sly look on her face didn’t help. He shook his head as she broke the hug and basically skipped out of the room once again joking about Jasper car when she was a good ways away, causing Jasper to chase after her. Lapis and Steven looked as the two took off, when they heard Peri yelled.

“MAKE SURE TO TAKE THE PRESIDENT HOME AS WELL, GOOO~OOD LUU~UUUCK!”

“I better go before she kills Peri.”

“Yeah,that’s a good idea. Get home safe, Lappie.” Red face and head down, Lapis delivered a weak trembling punch to the boys stomach.

“You rejected me already, so save that charm for her...I’m rooting for you”

With a small kiss upon his cheek and a wipe of a tear, Lapis ran to catch up with Jasper and Peri. Steven shook his head with a sigh as he turned around and laid on the couch. He watched as the snow lightly fell, with a peaceful look, dozing off as he did.

It was a melodic sound. A familiar one as well, he’d recognize it anywhere on earth. A simple feminine humming from his left. He turned towards it and saw a indian-american woman of his age sitting on the loveseat. Pad and pen in hand and headphones over her head; humming to a song on her mp4.

That natural walnut skin, shiny black eyes; long curly brown hair that flowed like a waterfall that cute slightly pointed nose and those small yet full lips. She was a bit taller than lapis, curvier than Peridot; and strong...not Jasper strong, but a fencer and athletic build. She sat, one leg over the other, in an alternative school outfit (pink blazer, yellow skirt,blue shirt, and pink tie). The Student President of Diamond Academy, tennis and fencer all star; Connie Maheswaran.

“That uniform fits you very well.”

“Why, thank you” Steven shocked and red face allowed Connie arched an eyebrow and smirk at CG leader. Steven sat up with a stretch and a crack of the neck.

“Time?”

“Only fifteen to five.”

“So..30 minutes, see you made yourself comfortable; Ms.President.”

“Was waiting for my best friend to wake.” Connie pulled her head phones down to her shoulder as she watch him get up and walk behind her and gave her a small hug, which she returned by squeezing his left bicep.

“Tea?”

“ Green, please.”

Giving her a smile the seventeen year old released his hold, a bit reluctantly, before going to the mini fridge getting two bottle of spring water, four tea bags from a nearby locker; and turning on the electric tea kettle that Pearl, one of the club members; brought for the room.

“So really what brings you to the room? And how long have you been here?”

“No reason. Just making rounds saw you here in this nice warm room, decided to come in for a bit. I’ve only been here for about 10 minutes. Is that ok?”

“All are welcomed, but you get special privileges; like this tea.” Steven pointed to the kettle with a smirk. Connie place three fingers on her blouse and gasp in exaggerated fashion.

“Talk about the V.I.P treatment.” She sent him a half smirk. “You wouldn't be trying to get something from me, Right Mr, Universe.”

he let use a low chuckle as he handed her a mug, and sat back on the couch. “Now whatever gave you that idea?”

“That chuckle for one, and the fact that you left a list of funds proposals on the table.”

“I swear they are all needed.” The pace of that statement caused the president to arched an eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“Uh-huh and what pray tell, does these items have to do with your club activities?”

“As you know, our club was main goal to ensure that our fellow students have a pleasant school life...Which we have done very well.”

“Methods aside..Sure.”

“Negotiations doesn't always work with words alone..sometimes games need to be played, parlays need to be made-”

“Classrooms need to be close off, dances need to be unofficially hosted; disguises need to be worn.”

“We always brought the costumes back in pristine condition” Connie stone face made him sigh. “ok, working condition.”

“and the fighting?”

“Oh, like you never used your skills outside of an match.”

Connie shrugged, a small toothy grin on her face. “The S.C does double as a disciplinary committee.. You guys don't.”

“Fair enough, but you can't argue that we have gotten results-”

“Steven,I'm not going to deny your proposal for these items... Though, I don't know why you don't talk to the headmaster themselves..you are related after all.”

“No way. Last Thing I need is people thinking I am privileged.

“....Just choose some soon, ok?”

the spontaneity of the statement and tiredness of her voice aroused suspicion in him. He scooted over and patted the cushion next to him. She took the lifeline quickly as she sat beside him, leaned on his shoulder and grasped his hand, he did nothing but intertwined his fingers with hers.

“You doing ok, President?”

“Just tired of talking shop, is all. Been planning the winter formal and been dealing with disputes between clubs.”

“You could send some of those disputes over here.”

“and have Jasper be on my case..no thanks, I choose peace... but the dance we could use a little ---.” Connie growled mid sentence, facepalming as she did.“No.. No more talk of S.C. work.”

Steven looked on with a smirk at her antics. “Sorry..So how has things been with you, personally? Still dating that Jeff guy?”

“Wow...weeks since we really spoke and that the first thing you ask, wait... how did you know I was dating...ANYONE?”

“He did come to us for advice...Though I was sick for that week. Garnet took control of that one…”

“and…”

Steven looked at her and rubbed the back of his head. “ On my day back, I caught you two giggling and such afterschool..You wasn't were we usually meet up for our ride home. I saw you two and was quick to figure what was going on.”

“Oh… Steven, I'm so sorry I-”

“Hey, No problem you don't have to tell me everything..I mean he's your boyfriend… you have, nothing to be apologetic about. Heard he's a good guy…” Steven glared and his voice, chilling “He IS a good guy..right?”

“I guess? We were only together for a month before I broke it off.”

“Ooo..May I ask why?”

Connie shrugged with a sigh. “Wasn't actually attracted to him, but I figure I'd give the guy a chance. He has good ambition, wanting to go into film and such a nice guy but...just no real spark between us.”

Steven nodded. “It's like that sometimes”

“True...I'm mad at you though.” Connie playful pokes called the bigger teen to laugh. “Six weeks and no hang out, no rides on lion; no games night” What started off as jovial and teasing, ended serious and cool. Connie frown was pronounced and her eyes sharp. “and why? cause some guy that didn't even last a whole month…”

Steven glared back just as hard. “You didn't exactly try to talk to me too much either.”

Connie growled slightly at this before sighing..this was not what she wanted. “You're right..I wanted to talked to you, but something happened…other than jeff”

“Oh..and what was that?”

“You rejecting Lapis…”

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mlovesstories · 6 years

Text

Adopting An Angel (RPF)

AN: Should I make this a series? Hope you like it!

Summary: YN was adopted by Jensen and Danneel. Adjusting to a new life is hard sometimes.

Word count: 1461

Warnings: Online hate, low self-esteem

Jensen x Danneel, Jensen x daughter, Danneel x daughter

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?” Jensen was facetiming with his daughter.

“Hi, Jensen. I’m okay. Just adjusting. It’s still new, ya know? I wish you were here.”

“Sure, YN. I know. It’s new for all of us. But I’ll be home for hiatus soon.”

“Hiatus?” YN didn’t know the reference.

“It’s our summer break from the show. I won’t be back to Vancouver until mid-July.”

“Really?”

Jensen and Danneel had just adopted fifteen year-old YN. She was full of life and adventure, but she was out of her element with having a structured family.

“Yep. How’s school going?” Jensen wanted to be there for her, but he was obligated to be in Vancouver for Supernatural.

“It’s good for once in my life. But technically we have like a week left. Oh, I made a friend today.”

“What’s her name? Is she nice like someone I know?” He winked at her.

“Very funny. And HIS name is Skylar.”

“Umm, no. No friends who are boys,” he stated straight-faced. Her value just plummeted. She didn’t want him to hate her already. They were getting along so well.

YN was quick to respond with, “I’m sorry. I won’t hang out with him. I’ll find someone-” she sputtered.

“YN, stop! I was kidding, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you for making friends,” Jensen smiled. “You are so strong, you know that?”

“I don’t think so,” YN looked away from the phone.

“Hey,” Jensen got her attention, “you are. You’re doing fine. It’s all new, but that’s okay.”

She heard Jared in the background. “Is that YN? Let me see her,” Jared said as he took the phone from his friend. “Hey, YN! How’s it going, darlin’?”

“Hi, Mr. Padalecki. It’s good, thank you.”

“What have I told you about the last name stuff, huh? What did I say would happen if you called me that again?” He smirked.

“That you would tickle me until I cried,” she answered with a laugh. “I’m sorry, Jared,” YN emphasized his first name.

“There we go! I’ll let it slide this time, shorty.”

“I ain’t short!” YN automatically responded. “Stop calling me that, please,” she thought she overstepped with her declaration. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. Call me that if you want.” YN was very timid with her new family and friends.

“YN, if you don’t want me to, I won’t. We’re silly in this family. You are allowed to have a say and joke around too,” Jared affirmed her. He knew she was trying to find her place in their world of crazy.

“Oh. Umm, okay. Well, I don’t mind it. It’s okay if you call me that. Although, for the record, I’m not short. You’re just ginormous.”

Jared leaned back with a laugh. “She doesn’t lie,” he told Jensen. “Okay, they are calling me to set. Bye, shorty!” With that, Jared left the frame of the phone.

“Don’t mind the weird one,” Jensen grinned at the camera as he referred to his tall co-star. YN beamed.

______________

It was hiatus, and YN was glad to have the whole family together consistently for the first time since she became part of the Ackles clan. She loved watching Danneel and Jensen interact with each other and the younger ones. They spent their days at the pool, taking small trips, and hanging out as a family of six. It was strange to be the oldest sibling, but she enjoyed it which surprised her. The Ackles had not announced that they had adopted YN yet for her privacy, but Jensen and Danneel wanted to shout it from the rooftops. She was such a gift to their family.

“How are you feeling today, YN?” Danneel asked.

“Good, I think. I’m just not used to family stuff.” She looked at her mom.

“Like what?” Danneel was curious.

“The laughing and goofing off. I’ve never had that before. You have a lot of fun,” YN smiled. “And all the trips and outings. That’s new. My room is fantastic. I never had a bed to myself. It was always too crowded. Now I have my own room with a bathroom.”

“I’m sure it’s different. But is it a good different, at least? I know it’s a lot to take in. You can always tell us if you need to talk,” Danneel wrapped her arms around YN.

“Oh no, it’s totally cool. Just a kind of culture shock, I guess. I love it though.”

“Good,” Danneel was so glad for YN. YN deserved some fun. “Jensen, come here.” Jensen walked over to his girls. “Let’s take a picture. I want to document YN’s first summer with us.”

“Good idea, Dee. Here, I have my phone. Let’s get the pool in the background. It’s a good backdrop,” he nudged YN playfully, and she giggled. “One, two, three.” He clicked the shutter button on his phone. “Can I send this to Grandma and Grandpa? They can’t wait to meet you next week when we go to Dallas.”

“Okay. They seem nice. Well, they should be. I’m sure you got that from them anyway,” YN said quietly.

“They will absolutely love you.”

“You can post it. If you want,” YN knew they were waiting for her approval to tell anyone outside of their families about their new addition. She understood that there would be a large reaction because of who her parents were. After all, she was part of the SPN Family before she was part of the Ackles Family.

“Post it?” Jensen and Danneel each raised a brow questioning YN.

“On instagram.” YN was nervous, but she knew it would happen eventually anyway. “It’s okay if people know.”

“Are you sure, sweetie? We don’t owe anyone anything on social media. It’s just a fun way to interact with friends and fans, but we don’t need to,” Danneel soothed her daughter as she rubbed YN’s arm.

“No, it’s fine, really. I mean, I’ve been with you for a couple of months, Dee. I’ll be alright.”

As they talked, Danneel and Jensen asked YN what she was comfortable with them posting about her. She wanted them to say that she was theirs, officially. YN could publicly claim to have a real family. She was excited.

Both Jensen and Danneel posted a few pictures of YN interacting with the other Ackles family members. They were so happy to tell about their beautiful daughter.

Most of the fans were ecstatic for the family. Unfortunately, there were those who made heartless comments which were completely unnecessary.

“How could they choose her? She doesn’t look like them.”

“She’ll never fit in with them, she’s a different nationality.”

“She ruined a perfect family.”

Jensen saw that most of the comments were positive, but he knew that if YN saw the negative ones, her confidence in herself and her new family would be crushed. They were too late. She logged on and saw the hate comments and messages that she received personally since her parents tagged her in their posts. They heard a shriek and turned around. As they did, she ran through the house and up the stairs to her room.

“Dammit.” Jensen guessed what happened and followed his daughter. He knocked on her door after a few minutes. She didn’t answer, so he slowly opened the door. “Sweetheart-”

“I’m not anyone’s sweetheart, Jensen. I’m ugly, and I don’t belong with your family. I’m so sorry I ruined it,” she cried. He hugged her until she stopped her sobs.

“Who said those hateful things, YN?” He pulled her away from his chest so that she could read his serious face.

“People.”

“You’re right. People that we don’t know. Their opinions don’t matter even though it feels like they should. It isn’t easy to ignore, I know that. But I hope you give us a chance to show you that you aren’t any less valuable than the rest of us. We are all part of this family. Dee, me, JJ, the twins, and you. We are a family. Those people are not us. Have we made those comments to you?”

“No, sir,” she wiped a tear away.

“You’re right. We haven’t because those statements aren’t true. We love you so much. We don’t care that you have a different color skin than we do. You should be proud because that’s part of who you are. Maybe you do look different on the outside, but the color of your heart is the same as ours. That’s all Dee and I care about.”

“Are you sure? I can go back to-”

“Hell no. You aren’t going anywhere. You are ours now. You’re MY daughter, not the haters’. Please remember that.”

“Okay,” YN gave a small smile and leaned into her dad again. “Thanks, Dad.”

She called me Dad!

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#supernatural #supernatural rpf #jensen x danneel #jensen ackles #danneel ackles #padackles #daughter x jensen #daughter x danneel

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