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#i was waiting for a new design that would b love at first sight and it finally happened <3
teem-boo · 2 months
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Mx. Insider hellooooooo 😳💖
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red (when they get pissed)
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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since it’s eren’s b-day today.. i’m curious how would muscian eren and reader spend his day together? love ur works btw 💓!
thank you so much! so I def feel like (y/n) would want to throw him this extravagant party and give him a celebration with all of his friends, just showing their love but we all know eren isn’t much for crowds or the party life.
So I feel like (y/n) would start with making him breakfast in bed, then you’d honestly just let him play his game for a little while because it’s really one of the only few hobbies he enjoys. Maybe even tinker around with one of his old cars. While he’s doing that, you’d be preparing for the rest of the evening. You know those cute little card games where someone has to pick one or the other? Well you know (y/n) would partake and film a cute lil tiktok for it. “So y’all know baby hates big parties so I decided to let him create his own present today.” The voiceover talking as he selects his cards: dining in or eating out, Audemars or Cuban, 1 or 2, and pink or red (which would be a surprise for later on) “..somehow, he picked all the first options, I don’t know how but y’all I can’t wait to give him his gifts!” And you’re so excited. Rather than have this giant gathering with familiar and unfamiliar faces, you instead pay to have his favorite restaurant reserved just for the two of you; the best Italian and seafood in all of the south..both of your favorites! As he’s getting ready, looking good as ever, you give him his first gift of the evening, the watch to complete his look and you can’t help but show his fine ass off to the world. “Look at the birthday boyyy, he’s so handsome.” Of course he’s flustered, all shy but regardless, the two of you have a wonderful time! White glove service, imported wine, a private piano show and amazing food. The chef even makes him a cheesecake that rivals only his granny’s recipe with the words ‘happy bday EJ’ in chocolate lettering. Of course, the night isn’t over yet. Once you make it back home, you’d hand him the third installment of his gift; an envelope with a key and tell him to not to pull up too far in the driveway when you guys arrive. He’s a bit confused but when his headlights hit the garage door, you allow it peel back and his face nearly hits the ground. Like this man hops out of his brand new two seater in the middle of the driveway because you just got him a 1968 Chevelle, one of his dream cars as a kid! He loves muscle cars more than anything so he’s so ecstatic, he almost starts to cry. Now he has a new toy to tinker with. Lastly, after that wonderful surprise and stuffing your faces, you two change from your designer duds into something more comfortable, preparing to spend the rest of the night, relaxing in each other’s company and smoking weed together; him into a bathrobe after his shower and you? That pink ensemble he picked out and you look absolutely divine. His eyes bugged out and mouth agape at the sight of you and he couldn’t think of a better way to end his night! “Happy birthday to me..” with you crawling onto his lap and giving him the night of his life.
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chrysochroma · 2 months
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Neon green and scarlet red
@febuwhump 2024: Day 14: blood stained tiles
@badthingshappenbingo : self-loathing (card is at the end)
Rating: Teen And Up
Words: 857
Fandom: Danny Phantom
Warnings: Dissection/vivisection/surgery, self loathing, bad parenting, blood
- not phantom planet compliant
- for clarification, his heart doesn’t beat in ghost mode (he doesn’t breathe either)
read on Ao3
Danny’s eyes flickered open, and he was met with the sight of familiar ceiling tiles. He was in the Fenton Works lab, in the basement of his house, for some reason. He wasn’t quite sure how he got there, but he decided that figuring that out could wait.
He moved to sit up, then immediately realized that he couldn’t. Thick metal straps crossed over his collarbones and thighs, and around his wrists and ankles, strapping him down to what he now realized was an operating table. A twinge of fear sparked in Danny’s heart, but he managed to supress it long enough to evaluate the situation he found himself in. Somehow, someone had kidnapped him and broken into his parent’s basement, then left him here. As far as he could tell, there was no one else in the lab with him, and he wasn’t sure where his presumed kidnapper had gone. Who would do this, though? This wasn’t something that any of the usual ghosts would do. Another possibility crossed his mind, but he dismissed it just as fast. It could be Vlad, Danny supposed. Or someone new.
“Hey, anyone there?” He called out.
“Lovely, you’re awake.” The response came from some corner that was too far away for Danny to see, but their voice dug a pit in Danny’s heart.
“Who are you?” He demanded.
“You should know who I am, Phantom.”
“No, I don’t.” At leat that’s what Danny was trying to tell himself.
“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway,” Maddie Fenton said as she stepped into view.
Danny said nothing as he tried to keep his mind from spiraling further into fear.
Maddie continued. “There won’t be much left of you in a bit.”
“No, wait, hey-“
There was a click of some kind of recoding device. “10:59 PM. The Phantom has just woken up. I will begin dissection shortly.”
Danny’s heart beat once, then stopped again. “Hey, first of all, it’s vivisection, because I’m alive.”
“No you’re not. There are no signs of life anywhere on you. Your heart doesn’t beat, your lungs don’t breathe. The only evidence that you’re telling the truth is your brain activity. Other than that, you might as well be a corpse.”
“Yeah, alright.” Danny clenched his fists, then braced himself.
Nothing happened.
Maddie smiled. “Subject has appempted to turn intangible, but couldn’t, due to our patent-pending GhostTrap technology.”
Danny was there when his parents were testing out designs for it. He remembered coming up with a few, himself. He knew that trying to break out of them was pointless. So, he fell back on plan B, although somewhat reluctantly.
Rings of glowing green light formed around Danny as as he slipped out of his ghostly form, the color returning to his skin and hair. “Mom, it’s me. Please, don’t-“
Maddie paused. “It appears that Phantom either has the ability to shapeshift, and is trying to bait me into letting him go, or he has actually been my son the whole time.”
“Yes! Mom, just let me go, it’s me, Danny!”
“Either way, the operation will proceed as planned.”
“What?”
The recorder clicked off. “If you aren’t my son, that changes nothing. If you are, it still changes nothing.” Maddie stepped closer, right next to the table, and looked down at Danny. “If you are, you should know how irresponsible you’ve been. The Phantom has causing chaos all over town for months now, when you knew that the right thing to do was turn yourself in. If you were really Danny, you would’ve made the correct choice and come to us, so we could’ve disposed of you earlier, before you could’ve harmed anyone.” The recorder clicked back on, and Maddie stepped back to the table holding an assortment of surgical equipment. “11:03 PM. Operation begins.”
Danny heard the sound of latex gloves snapping around her wrists, then scraping metal as she picked a scalpel off the tray. She walked back to the table, then positioned it over Danny’s chest, ignoring his shouts of protest.
The blade ripped through Danny’s flesh like it did his mind, screaming at the absence of anesthesia. A few seconds into the cut, Danny flickered back into a ghost, in some effort of defense. His blood flashed into neon green, lighting up the room. Maddie ignored it and carefully cut more and more of his skin away, exposing his abdominal cavity to the open air.
All the while, Danny was screaming at himself. Maybe his mom was right. He had hurt a lot of people as the Phantom. And if he hadn’t messed with the portal, it never would’ve broken, and there wouldn’t have been ghosts coming through. There wouldn’t need to be a Phantom. Heck, they had Valerie now. And those stupid Masters’ Blasters, however reluctantly Danny liked to admit it. Amity Park didn’t need him.
His blood glitched between neon green and scarlet red as it dripped onto the tile below, forming a puddle.
“Operation complete.” The recorder clicked off, and the door to the basement swung shut, leaving Danny in complete darkness, except for the light from his blood.
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hazbinextgeneration · 3 months
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Demon Bride Ch37 Interluding P6
Last Part Here:
First Part Here:
Next Part Here:
(WARNING!!: Enmu IS his own warning, possibly some innuendos. )
"Y/N-CHAAAAAANNN!!~ Please allow me to bask in your presence.~I would love nothing more than to-"
"OUT."
You only watched in amusement as Enmu was literally dragged away from you by Rui, who by then had groan impatient of his antics and wrapped his legs together before dragging him away from you towards the door again. 
"Rui, he was supposed to give you a checkup too."
"He can do that later. Plenty of time later."
"Good bye my love!~ My room will be located just a hall away from yours.~ If they give you anymore trouble then stop by anytime.~" He have a sly grin. "Or if you're just lonely and desire company to-"
SLAM!! The door was wretched open.
"Bye, bye."
And Enmu was thrown out by Rui, the suitcase tossed out a moment later before again the door was slammed back closed. And Rui turned around and back towards the pile of presents still unwrapped in plain sight before walking towards them.  
"Rui, that wasn't very nice," you lightly scolded the child as Rui paid no mind and grabbed a big box from the middle of the pile.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Many gifts thudded down from the pile as he yanked it out and shrugged pale hand digging at the lid. "I don't particularly care about his opinion. He needs to learn about being a decent man first." He finally got the lid off and dove a hand inside discarding the lid on the floor and pulled up a ..pillow? "Hand embroidered pillows ?" He looked at you.
"You can have them for your room if you want, Kiddo." Your hand waved at the pile of 'gifts'. "Have at it."
Breakfast was served only a while later by two sweating, shaking, smiling with fear servants who took time to suck up to the both of you before hastily leaving and not a moment later Rui dug into most of the food provided to him before heading back to the gifts. There was some fancy looking things in there. The golden framed mirror Rui found earlier. A few hand sewn pillows. A painting or two . Some carved candles. Books. Vases. Various ornaments- Most of which were claimed by Rui before he excited scuttled off to put into his own room before coming back for more boxes. Bbbbuuutt most of the boxes were stuffed with objects specifically for you-...Er. Specifically for a woman you meant. Kimonos with any and all designs with many layers. Hairpins. Expensive looking perfume bottles. Make up. Those too tight shoes you hated- ...All of which you frowned at and all of them were shoved into a particularly BIG box that had the pillows in it. You'd figure out what to do with them later, for now the giant box of that stuff would be shoved to the side until you'd figure out what to do.
.... Speaking of which-
What WERE you going to do? You were tired of just waiting in rooms for hours on end and do nothing. There wasn't even anything for you to do but ...Wait. Again. This time just until Enmu got back with the results of your blood. In short -...
 THIS FREAKING SUCKED!!
It seems that's what your life's become these days. Just sit down in a room and wait around for things. Wait for your leg to heal. Wait for your blood results. Wait for Akaza to get you. Wait here for...for... SOMETHING!! Wait, wait, wait. That's all you've been doing now. 
Day One.
Wait. Sit around. Servants brought you food shaken up by Enmu.
Day Two.
Wait. Sit around. Servants brought you food.
Day Five.
Wait. Eat. Sit around-
THIS SUCKED!!! You supposed Rui's hobby of threading and demanding your attention was enough to pass the long days. And the bright side was that you didn't wake up to anymore servants invading your space. Once and a while you'd see a few delivering food or laundry or coming in to clean your rooms but that's about it. That was a relief at least. But there was a few other things still added to that. It starts with a knock and a happy servant poked their head in holding another box or request.
"Lady Y/n. The Shota Family sent an invite for dinner."
"I'll pass."
"My Lady. You received another gift.~"
"*sigh* Give it to Rui."
"Your Ladyship. Would you Ike to meet with the Lord Taimatsu for tea? He's very influential and-"
"I think I'll be alright without doing that."
You declined everything. Not out of rudeness, but because meeting high influenceal demons was NOT a good idea!! Especially by yourself!! You didn't have a clue what these demons were capable of doing or what they were planning on trying to do to you! What if someone tried to marry you off AGAIN?! Or tried to take advantage of you somehow? Or worse. What if something were to happen to Rui?! That was a chance you couldn't take!! You already had someone try to kidnap him, you didn't need anymore trouble from them. So for now you'd think hard about what to do about your entire situation. But first thing's first.
You had to figure out how to get out of here. 
You could get out of the Kizuki Dwell easily enough, but how could you get out of this Infinity Castle dimension you were in? You were sure you'd get lost just walking around the place. It was like some kind of twisted mirror maze of rooms, doors, stairs, houses, and all kinds of platforms that you couldn't even Begin to navigate. Even if you had a map you'd get absolutely lost...But maybe if you had an escort or something? Kokushibo and every other demon seemed to know this place so well they didn't even need  directions. But what if someone got suspicious of your true intentions? UGH!! IT MADE YOUR HEAD SPIN!! YOU WERE ESSENTIALLY TRAPPED IN A MAZED PRISON SURROUNDED BY DEMONS WWAAAYY STRONGER THAN YOU AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN FIND A WAY OUT!! You didn't know what TIME it was! What DAY it was!! What MONTH OR YEAR!! You didn't even know if it was DAY OR NIGHT!! IT frustrated you to no end that you ended up just grabbing your head and giving out a yell of frustration before falling back into your futon.
YOU HAD ENOUGH!! YOU WANTED OUT OF THIS LIFE OF WAITING AND BEING TRAPPED!! YOU DIDN'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE!! WHY CAN'T ANYONE SEE THAT!?
You ended up deeply scowling at the ceiling and just laying there until a figure appeared over you and Rui looked down at you blankly. "What frustrates you this time?"
Oh yeah. You forgot he was here most of the time. You groaned hands rubbing your face. "It's hard to explain. ...Why aren't you in bed?"
"It's morning, not night." The hell if you could tell around here. "I'm bored." A hand tugged on your shoulder. "Take me out somewhere."
"Rui...I wish I could. Believe me. But with my luck Id wind up in the ocean somehow from getting lost in this place. "
"Good. Let's go explore then."
Before you could even tell him how useless it was anyways because you'd get lost either way-The door knocked and again before you could say anything else, it opened up and a head poked inside.
"My Lady," a male servant smiled at you making you sigh and flop your head back on the bed. "I have brought news!"
"*sigh* What is it this time?" Another gift? Another invite? Someone else wanting to court you or suck up?
The man's smile wavered at your lack of enthusiasm but widened once he pushed open the door and carried in (surprise surprise) another gift box. "You received a gift from one of your fiances, Your Ladyship! It was just delivered to us!"
"..A gift from someone I know?" Your eyes opened back up.  Well..THAT was a first. You weren't expecting something from one of your 'suitors'. ...?! You shot up wide eyed. What if it was a book from Kyogai? Or maybe some more medicine from Enmu? Finally maybe it was something useful to you. "Who's it from?"
"Lord Douma! He's sent over a package for you! I bet you'll love whatever's inside!"
You again paused. Wait. Douma?! As in that demon who's rumored to be a womanizer and pervert with many lovers?! That Douma?!
"That's the strange blonde demon Father punched before," Rui commented, "He's a pervert."
You shivered cringing a bit remembering the  strange look behind his eyes. It was so...empty. So lifeless. So ... DANGEROUS.
"Send it back!"
The servant blinked. "Huh? B-But ...my lady. It's from Lord Douma. Don't you at least want to see what it is? Or read the letter he sent?"
"Absolutely not!" You pointed at the door firmly with a scowl. "Do not open it. Do not damage it. Do not tell me anything more about it. Send the entire thing back! Letter and all! I don't want them!" He opened his mouth. "DONT. Argue with me. I said what I meant and I meant it when I said I don't want it! Mail the entire thing right back to Douma!" Maybe you could get at least one demon suitor off your back if you showed him serious disinterest. "What are you standing there for? GO!!"
He scrambled out of there so fast you were sure he phased through the wall like a ghost...Well he was a demon. Maybe he actually did go through the wall. You however groaned and rubbed your head again. How could this get even worse?
"Well. I see you've been doing some productive elimination." You both looked up again. Teal eyes smiled at you. "I hope I'm not intruding.~"
"Enmu!," You lit up and rose to your feet. The team eyed demon had returned... holding a...stack of books strapped together? "What are you doing here? And...with books?"
He chuckled again. "So nice to see you happy to see me.~ As for these.." He held up the books. And another stack of strapped together books in his other hand you hadn't noticed. Yikes! They were all pretty thick, and there must've at least been twelve there. "The Master requested I drop them off for the boy before the next school year starts in a week."
You blinked. "...What?"
He chuckled again at your frown. "Did you really not think we wouldn't have an education system in place? Ever child residing here goes to the most prestigious  school there is in our provinces. Of course he'll be starting out in the first grade since he desperately needs to catch up with his peers." The heavy looking books were set down making both you and Rui blink. "The Master has already enrolled him in and is currently in the process of getting him his own personal healer for his stay there."
"School?"
School? This whole Maze World had a school somewhere in here?....Well..Now that you thought about it, it made sense. There must've been millions of demons residing here for all you knew so of course their society would have such a thing as an education system. The poor school you went to as a child wasn't very big. You could read and write and all that but you had to drop out in order to take care of your old grandma and start working off that stupid debt. 
"What kind of school is this?'' You rose a brow. You were still suspicious of this place. "What exactly does this school do?"
"Oh it teaches the ciricular the Master set in place. Literature, arts, history, human culture- It's everything your own servants know."
"School? As in I have to leave Mother for hours every day?" Rui tilted his head. "I don't know if I like that."
Enmu shrugged. "I'm afraid it's out of my hands. Starting next week you'll be there studying and learning along with other children as suggested by Akaza! Now about the real reason why I came here-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait! Hang on a minute there!" He hummed as you held a hand up...and then pointed at him. "....What was that part about Akaza?"
"Hm? Oh. Akaza was actually the one who suggested to the Master that he get the boy an education. Something about trying to provide as a father...I think. He was rather brief. He mentioned something about investigating a string of murders for Kokushibo. *sigh* The lucky man.~"
"And Muzan agreed to this?"
"Of course! He thought it was a wonderful idea! The Princess attends the same school, even if she's heavily guarded most of the time."
So  Akaza was dead serious when he said he was going to fill the position of Rui's Father. You relaxed a little bit knowing that piece of information. If Akaza thought it was a good idea then you trusted his judgement, and honestly it was a good idea now that you thought about it more. Rui would get an education which was vital to any child. He would learn to be more independent from you too and interact with other children which would be good for him. Everyone should be able to make friends. You wished you could've had that experience as a child.
"Father wishes me to further continue my education..," Rui mused to himself with a hum and looked off at nothing. "...Yes. That's something a father would want for his child. He's already proven a correct choice." He closed his eyes with a nod. "Very well then. I'll honor his request. However I still expect him to come back and visit me soon. I have arrangements for my siblings I wish to make."
Enmu looked at you as you facepalmed and groaned. "Don't ask. I'm still sorting that out. Is this all you came here for?"
He chuckled at your annoyance. Adorable.~ "No. I actually came here to confirm that my theory about your blood.." He smiled wider eyes half lidded. "Is completely correct."
There was a silence as you stared at him wide eyed and blinking. "Well...What was your theory then? You promised to tell me."
"And I intend to keep that promise. But first I need to ask one last question." He tilted his head at you. "Do you have a family name?" You looked confused. "A last name. Do you have a last name? It's important for narrowing down something later trust me."
Last name? Family name? No. You didn't have one. Why would he need to know that anyways? Maybe you should've been a little more suspicious of his question but you had no reason to doubt him as he had helped you and despite his personality had been completely honest.  So you answered his question honestly back.
You shook your head. "No. I never had one. My grandmother didn't either. She abandoned our family name when I was born."
"Oh." He looked genuinely disappointed and frowned with a hum. "Hmm. Well that's not good. It's going to make it much harder to narrow down the search then."
"My mother had a family name though, before she died." And just like that he snapped back up with a smile. "My grandmother only told me it once though when I was very little. I don't know if I can remember it correctly."
"Well why don't you tell me anyways. I'm sure it would be..very helpful.~"
...What was your mother's family name? Your eyes narrowed looking at nothing. You heard it only once but you did know it. What was it? What WAS it? ....She told you when you were seven right? What was it she said? Something that started with a T?....Tamsa? Tamo? Tammy?..No those didn't sound right. It was close to that however. What was it? What was-...
Enmu tilted his head. Watching as purple eyes looked to him. "Tamayo?..." Her head slowly nodded. "Yes. My mother's maiden name was Tamayo."
Tamayo.
A wide look came over Enmu as his smile slowly got bigger and bigger until it could've split his face...and he giggled. And giggled. And GIGGLED. Stopping himself by pressing a hand over his mouth. Tamayo. Tamayo, Tamayo, Tamayo!! This was the missing link! The final piece needed for puzzle to be complete. Oh Lord Muzan would be so proud of him.~
"Why would you want to know that though?"
He giggled again almost maniacally. "Because...Y/n your blood  of a pure demon."
"....What?"
Two hands grabbed your cheeks. "Oh dear sweet Begonia. Such tragic story runs behind thee.~ You don't know how lucky you are.~ Don't you see what you are?~"
Your eyes stared at him in an almost scared emotion. An emotion he thought looked beautiful on her features.
"YOU. My dear darling...Are pure demon! Your body is awakening your demon instincts that laid doormat for years. Don't you see! Y/n! You are the sole heir of the Tamayo bloodline, and one of the most powerful demon bloodlines to ever exist."
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usafphantom2 · 4 months
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Epic video shows B-36 takeoff and landing in James Stewart’s Strategic Air Command Re-edited in 4 K
Strategic Air Command movie
The cool video in this post shows some neat clips of the awesome Convair B-36 strategic bomber taking off and landing.
The footage is taken from James Stewart’s Strategic Air Command movie and has been re-edited in 4 K so, as told in the video description, if you have a big screen 4 K or 8K tv this looks awesome.
Strategic Air Command is a 1955 American military aviation film starring James Stewart and was the first of four Hollywood films that depicted the role of the Strategic Air Command (SAC) in the Cold War era.
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TAP ARROW BUTTON TO VIEW☝️
The B-47 Stratojet, the newest bomber of Strategic Air Command
My father was a navigator /bombardier in the B-47. Strategic Air Command was the movie that my parents watched on their first movie date. This movie introduced B-47 Stratojet as the newest fastest bomber in the world. This aircraft was ready for serious business, armed with a MK 28 1.1 Mt hydrogen bomb.
My parents Dad, Richard Sheffield, and my Mom, Rosie Chard, met each other on a blind date in Sacramento, California. Dad had a really nice bright red Oldsmobile that he bought the day he graduated from Cadets.
Epic video shows B-36 takeoff and landing in James Stewart’s Strategic Air Command Re-edited in 4
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My Dad, Richard Sheffield
He had sold an old car a few years before while he was a college student at Wheaton. With no plans to get married and certainly no plans to start a family, the monthly payments were hefty. He wanted to treat himself with the car of his dreams. He agreed to go on the blind date reluctantly because his Buddy did not have a car. My mother also did not want to go on a blind date. Neither one of them had ever been on one before.
A blind date is when you’re set up by your friends to go out with a stranger that your friends approve of but you’ve never met.
When Dad saw my Mother, he knew she was the one for him. It was love at first sight. My mother had an excellent job as a secretary at Procter & Gamble. She was also going to modeling school. She looked like a movie star; after dating each other for four months, they eloped and got married at Reno, Nevada.
Born into the wild blue yonder
Epic video shows B-36 takeoff and landing in James Stewart’s Strategic Air Command Re-edited in 4 K
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My Mom, Rosie Chard
A year went by, my young parents are both 23 years old when they were anxiously awaiting the birth of their first child (myself). Alone in a southern town without any family the agreement was my mother and the baby would stay in the hospital until my father came back from flying bomb runs in Europe.
The Air Force could not wait for my mother to go into natural labor. This was a matter of national security. The doctors induced my mother into early labor, so that my father could see his firstborn child before he left for two weeks.
The Air Force song I heard thousands of times during my childhood starts like this …. Off we go into the wild blue yonder flying high into the sky.
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SR-71 T-Shirts
CLICK HERE to see The Aviation Geek Club contributor Linda Sheffield’s T-shirt designs! Linda has a personal relationship with the SR-71 because her father Butch Sheffield flew the Blackbird from test flight in 1965 until 1973. Butch’s Granddaughter’s Lisa Burroughs and Susan Miller are graphic designers. They designed most of the merchandise that is for sale on Threadless. A percentage of the profits go to Flight Test Museum at Edwards Air Force Base. This nonprofit charity is personal to the Sheffield family because they are raising money to house SR-71, #955. This was the first Blackbird that Butch Sheffield flew on Oct. 4, 1965.
It was my destiny and honor to be born into the wild blue yonder.
The Air Force was new, B-47 was new, and so was I!
Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Twitter Page Habubrats SR-71 and Facebook Page Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.
Photo credit: Linda Sheffield Miller
B-47 navigator/bombardier recalls when his Stratojet flew the largest Nuclear Bomb ever built to Spain
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Richard “Butch” Sheffield is on the far right in the photo. His crew was named Best B-47 crew in 1960
Linda Sheffield Miller
Grew up at Beale Air Force Base, California. I am a Habubrat. Graduated from North Dakota State University. Former Public School Substitute Teacher, (all subjects all grades). Member of the DAR (Daughters of the Revolutionary War). I am interested in History, especially the history of SR-71. Married, Mother of three wonderful daughters and four extremely handsome grandsons. I live near Washington, DC.
@Habubrats71 via X
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miusejournal · 2 years
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MISS SOHEE, THE COUTURE LABEL THAT IS DELVING INTO FANTASY LIKE NO OTHER
MISS SOHEE, the new and emerging designer that is doing fantasy like no other. Her way of creating beautiful, artful women’s clothing is something that is worth delving deep into as her imagination takes fashion and cotoure into different sights.
Her couture pieces are made with fantasy and imagination that it almost seems surprising that Miss Sohee is only twenty five year old. With her artful takes on couture it is so lively and intricate you would believe someone of a much older and with a higher caliber would do what she does. With her designs she activates our imagination and makes us delve into our fantasy, or in this case her own. Someone who has not been in the fashion industry for that long, she has the mastery and expertise to compete with much older houses and that is what makes her and her work so brilliant.
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Sohee Park, extraordinary creations were first put into use in high school where she would draw and paint, expressing her own fantasy world which resulted in her now notable creations for her own namesake label MISS SOHEE. However, what struck her to go down the fashion path was getting a chance to view a Chanel Fashion show on TV in 2012 which catapulted the talented creative to begin her fashion journey at Central Saint Martins. Throughout her time at CSM, Park interned for Marc Jacobs and Molly Goddarad, and here she honed in her creative skills and ethereal aesthetic which can be seen in the flower brooches and headpieces she helped make for Marc Jacobs Spring 2020 collection. 
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Her debut collection under her namesake label MISS SOHEE. “The Girl In Full Bloom”, was produced during lockdown and released in a series of beautiful and striking photographs that captured my attention as well as many others. From the colors used the striking pieces to the penchant for sculptural silhouettes “The Girl in Full Bloom” Fall/Winter 2020 collection was a notable collection for MISS SOHEE that undoubtedly catapulted her in success within fashion as a young creative and garnered many fashion lovers alike. Looks from her debut collection have been featured on the cover of LOVE magazine.
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In addition, the young creative has also collaborated with the amazing Christian Cowan, blown away by her work he asked to collaborate on a trio of looks from his Spring 2021 collection which have already been seen on big acts like Bella Hadid for Vogue Espana, March 2021. The photographs captured the essence and ethereal aesthetic that is MISS SOHEE and Christian Cowan as one. With the demi couture, floral inspired pieces for the collection worn by model Georgie Hobday, the collaborative collection was an outstanding masterpiece.
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Park’s latest Fall/Winter 2021 collection, “HaenYeo”, has propelled her namesake brand MISS SOHEE into even more success. With its focus on being eco conscious and sustainable, MISS SOHEE has once again outdone herself with this collection. MISS SOHEE’s sophomore collection “HaenYeo” couture collection, which is an ode to the sea women of Korea, continues the brands focus on beautiful craftsmanship, extraordinary sculpted gowns, and fantastic headpieces that capture the brand’s craftsmanship and Park’s artistry. This second time around, the collection is filled with shell-like elements that exhibit intricate detailings of corrals and shellfish which she gained inspiration from her late grandmother's home which is by the sea. With use of ocean treasures and life, MISS SOHEE used this inspiration to create an even more beautiful and introspective collection than her last. Using deadstock and recycled fabrics, MISS SOHEE has amassed many stars from the likes of Cardi B, Miley Cyrus, Ariana Grande, and Gemma Chan.
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The new and emerging designer has already captured my heart and the heart of many others and I can't wait to see what MISS SOHEE’s beautiful, intricate collections take on a bigger life than it already has.
(Jan. 3, 2022)
34 notes · View notes
xiaowhore · 2 years
Text
lights, camera, action!
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premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)
includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.
next episode. watch here.
note. i surprised myself with how much plot this actually has.
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零 ; you, the typecasted “passerby a”
the path to stardom is an arduous journey, but you've already abandoned your dreams not even halfway down the road.
you are far from the fresh newbie you once were. maybe you hoped to be famous at some point, your name sung in ardent praises and joint with stellar performances, but you've never received major roles that strayed from “classmate b” or “the protagonist's best friend” who only ever appears to give advice.
the closest you've been to getting a main character role is being part of the second pairing of a cheesy romance drama that never became a hit, a series with a generic plot and a bland cast of no name actors.
but you can't deny the spark of hope lighting your heart when you receive word of an audition for an upcoming drama adaptation of a well-loved webtoon series, which you are an avid fan of. it's a murder mystery following a genius detective who strives to solve a serial killings cold case, with snippets of romance and the occasional comedy, grim as the premise may be.
once the drama adaptation was confirmed, it quickly became a hot topic; fans are anticipating the casting and filming crew, expecting nothing short of perfection to honor the brilliant source material. by all accounts, it's big news, and snagging even a minor role would definitely earn you more recognition.
if you're chosen to act as the victim in the first murder, you would already be beyond satisfied—being part of such a masterpiece is enough to make you overjoyed. you don't have too high hopes but there's no harm in trying for the audition, right?
yes. no harm at all.
that's if you don't count the brain damage you suffered when your head slammed against the wall from complete shock as you received an e-mail from the staff confirming your admittance to the project.
as the protagonist's love interest, no less—a journalist investigating the serial murders to enact revenge on their younger brother's stead, the third victim in the killings.
一 ; xiao, the celebrity crush
acting practice is generally considered a casual affair in every project you've taken on, yet you couldn't help but spend hours trying to make yourself look presentable (and avoid looking like a beggar compared to your shining idols when you stand side by side). you may be a tad bit overdressed, but you'd hate to make a fool out of yourself on day one.
except that is exactly what you do. because you're a walking disaster.
in your defense, it's not even your fault! the moment you step foot in the venue, you're ushered by the staff to a row of waiting rooms... without any nameplates attached by the doors and no indication of where you're supposed to go. left with no other choice, you mentally count eeny meeny miny moe and surge forward for the chosen room.
you can't tell if you're tremendously lucky or the most unfortunate person on earth, but you come face to face with a person you never thought you'd see in the flesh.
the thing is, the staff never informed you of your future colleagues. the casting is a well-kept secret, even from the actors themselves, to prevent information leaks to the media before the official announcement.
you really wish you had time to prepare yourself before you had to meet xiao, though.
he's lounging by the sofa, curls of dark hair sprawled on the cushions. his face is obscured by an eye mask, fashioned in a cute design you wouldn't expect him to take an interest in at all. if you took a picture of him right now and printed them as merchandise, you're sure they'll sell like hotcakes, but a selfish part of you wants to keep this sight to yourself.
yes, because... because you've been crushing on him since forever!
you've seen his growth as an actor as far back as five years ago, when he only just started his career! he made the perfect mysterious pretty boy male lead, and the romance film he starred in was such a good classic! but he didn't get typecasted, no no. he went beyond his pretty boy persona to work in other productions, where he acted as the crazed antagonist in a horror movie. that, too, eventually became a classic film for any horror movie fan. his murderous glare is just too damn scary!
he's excellent in action-packed movies as well, there's never a need for stunt doubles with him. you've seen his behind the scene clips, and they're just awesome. he doesn't speak much in interviews, his replies clipped and hardly substantial, but you try to catch each piece of precious footage.
oh fuck i shouldn't be here. you snap back to your senses and reach for the doorknob, but the creaking sound of the door prompts xiao to twitch.
a pale hand drags down the eye mask to his chin, and his dazed golden eyes pin you in place.
“...who are you?”
it's a simple question, but it's like you're trying to prove your innocence to court. you begin to ramble, introducing yourself in a series of stutters, and explaining how you got to his room. you insist you aren't there to peep on him and it was a complete accident.
“...so you entered my room by mistake,” xiao summarizes your ten paragraphs-worth of explanation into a single concise sentence. he doesn't look angry, but doesn't look pleased by your presence either. “it's fine. i could guess the staff was too busy to show you your room.” he sits up properly, fixing his hair messy from his nap. “you're the journalist, right? i look forward to working with you.”
rather than a job, filming feels more like a reward. you get to see xiao everyday, get to talk to xiao even if it's just you commenting on the weather, get to eat with him in lunch breaks (you're seven seats away from him but that counts, right?) and get to act alongside him-
(the makeup artist is always wondering why you look so red on screen when she swears she didn't put much blush on you, though.)
and xiao is the second male lead. you get to act romantic scenes with him. you get to act lovey-dovey with xiao in a police uniform because he's a policeman in this show. each brush of your hands together sends your heart racing in a speed too fast to be healthy, but as an actor, you're expected to keep your composure and deliver your lines properly.
“don't you need to ask something of me?”
you blink innocently as you peel off the heavy costume, the last scene for the day finally wrapped up. xiao must be feeling hot too because he's also wearing a huge coat in the middle of summer—his face is beet red.
“ask you for something...?” your cheeks burn bright. “oh no, was i too obvious?”
xiao awkwardly looks away. “you could say that.”
how mortifying! you fan your face, hoping your makeup isn't too melted. you already feel like an idiot, no need to look like one.
but xiao already thinks you're stupid. no turning back now.
“o... okay... since the cat is out of the bag, then...” you pull out a pen and a piece of paper, holding it out to him. “please give me your autograph!”
“...what.”
“i've been your fan for the last five years! i don't know who ratted me out, actually i'm about 87% sure it's childe, but since you know-”
“wait- what? five years?”
“.........if that's not what you're talking about, then what is?”
“no, i thought you wanted to ask me ou-”
he seals his lips at the most crucial moment, horrified at himself. “sorry. i'll ask you another time.”
... and then he walks away. just like that.
“xiao, what about my autograph?!”
“forget it!”
“why all of a sudden?!”
二 ; childe, the scandal magnet
notorious for the massive number of scandals under his belt, it's a surprise to find ajax (with a stage name of childe) in the set of this major production. you're advised by your manager to steer clear of him and avoid unnecessary contact to prevent sullying your reputation, but you can't deny his acting prowess—he shines on the stage, a performance you can't tear your eyes away from.
he's incredibly versatile, capable of taking on any role and absorbing the character to make it come to life, almost as if he is its incarnation.
it starts as a simple game before actual practice, each actor asked to draw lots from pieces of paper scribbled with different roles, and given an accompanying script to base off of.
everyone laughs when childe, ironically enough, draws the “womanizer who cheats on his lover.”
unfortunately, you couldn't laugh along with them because you picked the “lover” role. your incredible (read: atrocious) luck astounds you.
it goes just about as well as everyone expects it. childe, seemingly in his element, plays the part of a perfect scumbag. it's easy to hate him like this, all flamboyant gestures and empty promises of “you are my one and only.” his performance inspires you to try harder, and so you raise your voice, your passionate screams of indignance almost sounding heart-felt, like you truly are experiencing a severe betrayal.
when childe sweeps you into his arms, whispering platitudes dripping with honey, you're nearly fooled into forgiving him.
it's hard to get yourself out of the role when the director ends the scene, satisfied with the act. childe's expression returns to its usual lazy grin, a far cry from the smug smirk prior, and he pats your head to wake you up. “nice work. i really felt like i was getting scolded by an angry girlfriend.”
dazzled by his brilliance, you barely have enough coherence to return the compliment.
your awe doubles when he performs his next act.
much to xiao's horror, he picks the “dying younger brother” role, a direct accompaniment to childe's “grieving older brother.” they make an... interesting pair, but they're also professionals, and the scene they perform almost makes you weep real tears.
xiao lays limp on the floor like a lifeless doll, and childe cradles him to his chest, delivering his lines with sobs and cries that sound too real to be an act. his heart-wrenching wails bounce from the walls, going straight to strike your heart. his voice cuts through the air, demanding your attention, as if telling you to keep your eyes on him and to never look away.
it's nothing like the sleazebag character he was playing twenty minutes ago, and you have to remind yourself your scripts are only given once you've drawn lots; he had a maximum of five minutes to read through it, process the information, decide how to deliver his lines, and visualize himself performing it in the best way possible.
like this, he doesn't look at all like the scandalous man everyone makes him out to be. he's just an earnest man who's good at pretending to be someone else.
it's terrifying to think about. did he ever act like his true self when the cameras stopped rolling, then? was he just playing the part of a “good co-worker” when he was talking to you earlier? was the whole “scandalous womanizer” image something he set up for himself? a reputation he deliberately made to attract the media's attention? it isn't unusual for actors to cause drama as a publicity stunt, after all.
no, that doesn't make sense. no matter how desperate, nobody would like bad rumors circulating about them. as much as your name is spread around, it also goes hand in hand with distasteful gossip. childe is plenty famous, even before the scandals began popping up, so he never really needed them and they would only further ruin his image...
...on the contrary, if there's anyone getting famous from those scandals, it's...
...the girls he supposedly hooked up with?
rather than making those scandals for fame, doesn't it make more sense if those girls fabricated stories and took advantage of his reputation?
it's no secret that meddlesome paparazzi and hardcore fans obsessively pry into celebrities' personal lives. if they sniff a hint of dating scandals, they don't stop digging. furthermore, once the media releases information to the public, people will take it as fact. in actuality, it doesn't matter what's true or not; what the public wants to believe becomes the “truth.”
if the people deemed it plausible, if they thought “childe would definitely do something like this, so of course if the girl says they hooked up in the dressing room, they did”...
...even if childe denied those claims, nobody would believe him. not even you. you didn't think about it until now. in fact, at the very beginning, you already had assumptions about him, devouring the media's lies.
childe laughs when you apologize to him. it was certainly a shock when you suddenly knocked on his door, then the instance he opened it, you began to bow deeply, nearly slamming your forehead to his chest.
“i'm used to it, don't worry.” he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “you were so stiff around me, it was pretty obvious what you thought of me. but you didn't have to apologize.”
“no, i do! i was being disrespectful!” you insist, taking him by surprise when you grab the lapels of his jacket. “you're nothing like what they say! i'm sure you've been through a lot just because everyone keeps saying whatever they want, without thinking of your feelings... and everyone laughed that one time we played the acting game... i... i can't take back the time i've spent being suspicious of you, but i want to change that!” you stare directly at his widened eyes, determined. “i want to know you better, ajax!”
the use of his real name stuns him and for a moment, all he can do is gape at you.
then he narrows his eyes, his lips shaping to a firm line, and he tugs you inside the room.
a yelp unwittingly escapes your mouth when you're pressed against the door, his arms caging either side of you. his expression is unfamiliar now, unlike anything you've ever seen before; uncharacteristically stern, harsher around the edges, spiteful gaze boring holes into your skull.
“you want to know me better... some pretty words you just said. what do you actually want?”
your breath hitches when his hand caresses your cheek, but the striking glare he's giving you makes you think he wants to sink his nails deep into your skin instead.
“this isn't the first time someone tried to approach me, you know. what, you want to be friends with me? you're going to ask if i can invite you to my house? then you're going to tell people how i took advantage of you while you were sleeping?”
“what- no! of course not!” you yell, face heating up just by the thought of it. “nevermind lying to the media, i don't have the guts to sleep over a guy's house i barely even know!”
his expression falls to a deadpan. “oh. my bad. you're quite pure, aren't you. of course you wouldn't.”
“that's what makes you believe me?!”
the arms caging you falls to his sides as he walks away, leaving you dumfounded. “right, right, sorry for scaring you. can't you let me off easy? it's pretty hard to trust someone when you're in my position. if i treat you to dinner, will you forgive me?”
“i... i came here with good intentions... now i feel as though i was harassed...”
his usual smile falls on his face, like he's a completely different person from the man who trapped you just seconds prior. “what do you think about seafood? i'll let you eat as many crabs as you like. i really am sorry, promise. if you were saying the truth earlier, then i'd be glad to know you better too, [name].”
you give him a look. “...if they saw us entering a restaurant together, wouldn't that attract rumors?”
“hm? is everyone so narrow-minded they think anyone who eats together is in an illicit relationship?”
the answer is no, so you eat as much crabs and shrimp as you want to your heart's content. you're getting your food's worth for that fright he caused earlier. childe isn't complaining anyway, only impressed with how much dishes you're practically inhaling.
in any case, it isn't a date. there is no ambience or heart-pounding romance of any sort. not when you're overtly taking advantage of his money and childe's taking ugly pictures of you mid-bite.
but then, of course, the media takes note of it; the topic of your outing is brought up at an interview, to which you fret and panic because you were never popular enough to be interviewed before, and they're asking if you're fucking childe, of all things-
“what are you talking about?” childe pops up behind you, unhelpfully wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if he wants to add fuel to the fire. he chuckles, tilting your chin to lean closer to his face. “i'm just pursuing [name]. nothing's happened yet. unless [name] wants to...”
you take it back. he's definitely at fault for having this many scandals.
三 ; albedo, the male lead
the first day of rehearsals, the protagonist of the drama isn't even there.
to your astonishment, nobody complains about it. twenty minutes into practice (most scenes skipped due to the protagonist's absence), the director gets a call and excuses himself outside. less than a minute after, he informs everyone the star of the show won't be able to make it.
the actors trade unsure looks, wondering what the hell is going on, but the rest of the staff remain unfazed. the director notices and explains, “it's albedo. his busy schedule can't be helped. his manager called me to let me know his flight got delayed.”
and then it makes much more sense.
albedo is well-renowned in the film industry, an extraordinary talent who first came into showbiz three years ago. it's not at all a long time, but it's long enough for him to receive countless awards and bountiful movie offers—he was just born for the stage. if anything, this drama is lucky to have him in it, not the other way around. a late arrival for a rehearsal is nothing. he could probably disappear for two months without telling anybody and when he comes back, the director would beg him to act for the drama for twice the pay. (an exaggeration, but you get the point.)
and... you're expected to partner with him? you? a speck of dust compared to the sun that is albedo? you have to match his brilliance and not look like a turd beside him on screen? you have to be equals with him and- and you actually get to- you get to hold hands with him, kiss him, and- those couple stuff? everything? his fans would murder you if your mother doesn't kill you first! you know she likes his movies a lot!
the fourth day of rehearsals, he finally comes to the set. not with an air of arrogance or excessive pride. he just exudes confidence, strutting to the room in an elegant poise you can't hope to replicate. he gives his sincere apologies for the inconvenience to the staff, all polite bows and offer of recompense.
“but there's no reason to worry,” he declares, gaze steely. “i won't make any more trouble for you.”
he refuses when the director suggests taking it slowly and instead goes straight to practice. but it doesn't look like he needs any of it at all.
as if he's been here all along, he falls into place with the other actors, not a single awkward pause in their scripted conversations and everything smooth sailing. he delivers a flawless performance, like the cameras are already rolling and he's practiced for tens of thousands of times already, not read through a portion of the script in the car ride towards the set.
there is one thing he's struggling with, however.
“you're too stiff with each other,” the acting coach comments, frowning slightly at the two of you and cutting the scene short. “rather than bickering, it's like you're actually arguing, and that's not what we want to portray.”
you blink, exchanging a look with albedo, and look down at his collar you're still gripping.
maybe you do look like you're trying to strangle him instead of pulling him closer to your face for some good ol' sexual tension.
originally, the characters you play didn't get along well in the beginning of the webtoon; the genius detective didn't like to rely on others, conceited enough to believe he can solve the case on his own, hence seeing the journalist as a hindrance since they kept pestering him to let them help him, and he help them in turn so they could work together. the detective didn't deem them “useful” for the investigation, and it was only much later that he (begrudgingly) admitted the journalist can be helpful... sometimes. thus officially starting their partnership for the investigation, and later on, partners in the romantic sense.
there were quite a lot of bickering scenes before the actual romance commenced, and you're struggling with finding a delicate balance to that—where exactly do you draw the line between petty squabbles and severe disputes? how do you show the chemistry between these two characters while butting heads in every instance? the enemies to lovers trope is harder to act than it seems.
“try to get familiar,” the director suggests. “you're stiff because you don't know each other well. you're too shy to touch or get closer. why not leave early and go on a little date by yourselves to fix that?”
“is that really okay...?” you say, unsure. besides being hesitant to leave earlier than the rest, you're also nervous to be alone with your co-actor.
“if he says it's fine, then it's fine.” albedo shrugs, starting to walk towards the dressing room and tugging you along. “but if we're going outside, we should wear disguises. it's also fine if we borrow some of your clothes, right?”
“of course, of course~” the director indulges him. “have fun, kiddos.”
as it turns out, albedo is a master of disguise. he doesn't even have a wig or anything but you almost can't recognize him clad in casual attire. he also almost looks like a stylist while figuring out what outfit to give you, and you're left in awe when you look at yourself in the mirror wearing clothes you wouldn't normally pick out yourself but they look really, really good on you, and they do a good job changing your image too. not that you think anybody would recognize you anyway, unpopular and all.
“where do you want to go?” you trail after him on the way to the bus station, always a step or two behind. albedo makes a humming noise, subtly slowing his pace to match your strides.
“why not just go wherever our feet takes us?” he pipes up. “as long as it's not teeming with people, of course.”
so with zero preparation at all, you do just that. you stop by a bookstore, with you showing him around the comics section and him adamantly insisting the plain hard-cover literature he's picking up is a thrilling epic that will definitely pique your interest, [name] stop yawning-
you pay a visit to the arcade, where you find albedo is clumsy with his feet and can't play dance dance revolution to save his life, but also unnecessarily adept with claw machines because he has a little sister who loves getting stuffed toys. you compete over who gets the most points in the basketball game to decide who pays for dinner, end up in a tie, and move on to a zombie shooting game. you win by a narrow margin and albedo tells you so, but you point a finger at the results and tell him to cough up the cash. then you play around in the photo booth using the craziest filters, and you take the liberty of pasting stickers everywhere.
dinner is a simple affair. albedo looks ready to go to some michelin star establishment but you introduce him to a sushi restaurant that's relatively cheap. he's impressed by the way you swipe at the conveyor belt so quickly. okay, so you may look like an utter glutton right now, but it's fine. not the first time you embarrassed yourself in front of a co-actor.
lastly, you stop by an ice cream shop to get gelato. your appetite is “awe-inspiring,” as albedo put it, but you argue there's always room for dessert.
“will this actually help us, though...?” you sigh, eating a spoonful of gelato. “i don't understand the difference between bickering and arguing.”
“we've done it the whole day,” albedo reminds you, using a tissue to clean the residue of cream on your cheek. “we'll do just fine.”
you stare at him in disbelief. “...is this also one of your habits from taking care of your sister?”
“ah. you could say that.”
just as albedo said, filming goes a lot more smoothly. the playful air is a huge improvement compared to last time when they said you looked ready to beat him to submission. the romantic tidbits are coming along well, too, spun between action-packed scenes where you're pressed against albedo in a slim locker to hide from the murderer lurking nearby or sweet slice of life moments outside of the investigation.
at last, the confession scene is upon you. just a while back, the two main characters got into a full-blown argument; the detective was irritated by the lack of progress in the investigation, and deduced his feelings were distracting him. he decided to keep the journalist at arm's length, never allowing them to go close. of course, they didn't react well to this, and so they pester him again, but the argument became heated and it eventually peaked to “you're an inconvenience to me!” which led them to separate ways.
the journalist, desperate to solve the case on their own, approached people who seemed to be in the know. they were nearly pulled into bed by an attractive yet suspicious man, who's genuinely interested in the journalist romantically and used intel on their younger brother's murder as leverage, but they get interrupted by the detective pounding on the door.
he dragged the journalist out, thoroughly upset at the notion of selling themself, but they deny the accusations and claim they were tricked.
the argument stretched longer, the both of them airing out everything they dislike about the other, but the detective accidentally slipped and confessed his real feelings. the journalist, who never thought of him that way, was frozen on the spot.
it's a long scene requiring much preparation. aside from the amount of lines you have to memorize, there's also a hotel suite you have to borrow for the shoot, the cameras they need to set for the “dragging” scene that has a lot of movement, the really awkward half-bedroom scene you have to act with your co-actor, and the fact that you have to take the confession scene before the sun completely set.
it's truly a busy day. anxiety plagued you the moment you came out of the makeup room, knowing what comes next.
but it's a job, and one especially you couldn't afford to slack on. the kind-of-but-not-really-bedroom scene goes without a hitch, but albedo interrupts you a tad bit too early; the top of your shirt is barely unbuttoned but he's already storming in, ripping you out of the other man's grasp.
the director doesn't chide him for it however, and he drags you out of the hotel as planned. you're a bit frazzled by the suddenness of it all, clothes still rumpled, but it adds on to your acting and your stuttering questions make the scene look more natural.
albedo's fury seeing you in such a disheveled state seems almost genuine, too.
“why are you acting like this?!” you pull your wrist away in an effort to make him let go, as described in the script, but albedo refuses to. an improvisation, perhaps? but now of all times...? “you didn't care about me before! are you trying to be nice now? didn't you say you were sick of putting up with me? you hated me for being stupid, right? guess what, then! i was stupid enough to get almost taken advantage of! if you're just going to lecture me, let go. i don't want to hear any of it. i already know how much of a fool i am.”
you're supposed to back away now, but he doesn't let you do that either. for one step backward, he takes two forward, nose nearly brushing with yours in the close proximity. your face heats up in a combination of confusion and embarrassment, your ears barely registering his lines.
“...never listen to me. you always go off on your own and i still think you're a reckless idiot. you're noisy and brash and you annoy me to no end,” he says in one breath, staring deeply into your eyes. “but seeing you with someone else annoys me even more. to the point i'd abandon everything just to get you back.”
“w...” your throat is incredibly dry. “why would you...”
“whether i like it or not, you've become important to me. i love your stupid laugh and your stupid smile. i love the way you look at me, and i don't want you to look at anyone else. you drive me crazy when you put yourself in danger because i don't want to lose you. i want you so badly that i want you to only think about me, spend time only with me, only love me. i-”
you're fairly certain this is nowhere near his lines in the script.
“i love you so much that it scares me.” his voice trembles as his hand lifts to cup your face, something that finally bears semblance to the original scene. “it was wrong of me to say those horrible things. not just last time. i've been terrible to you, and no amount of apologies can make up for it. but i ask only one more chance.”
his finger hovers at the corner of your lip.
“[name], won't you only look at me?”
you gape like a fish out of water, unable to reply. you're trying to remember your lines, flipping through the mental script in your head, but the director's “cut!” pulls you back to reality.
albedo blinks, getting himself out of the role, and he lets go of you reluctantly, the heat of his fingers lingering on your skin.
“the scene was good, but you said the wrong name.” the director laughs. “it's alright. we can still shoot where we last left off. return to your positions.”
as told, you go back to your previous position. you give a furtive glance at albedo, whose cheeks flare in humiliation. he's probably never done such a rookie mistake before. there's no reason to be that flustered about it; you've made the same error plenty of times.
“i apologize. i won't do it again next time.”
(if he's going to confess, the least he can do is make his own lines for the occasion.)
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next episode ; watch here. preview →
四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder
五 ; scaramouche, the best friend
六 ; thoma, the former male lead
七 ; kazuha, ???
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kashi-prompts · 3 years
Text
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Rating: T
Pairing: Kakashi x Reader
Genre: Fluff. Teeth rotting fluff.
"It's stifling in here," the silver-haired Hokage managed, slipping a finger under his mask to let the air hit his face. He took a deep breath, trying to relax the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Kakashi," Gai stood from the wooden chairs before the Hokage's desk, "relax, my friend. I've never seen you so tense."
"I'm not tense," Kakashi brushed off Gai's hard reassuring pat on the back.
"The crease between your eyes has never been so prominent," Gai poked his friend's forehead, stopping him. Kakashi sighed heavily, meeting Gai's gaze.
"I'm fine," he reassured his friend.
"Having second thoughts?" Gai nudged him.
Kakashi looked at his friend and pushed past him to walk to his desk, "no, never. Are my robes here yet?"
"Then what is it?" Guy followed him, watching him as he shuffled papers around on his desk, "We're so young; how could anything bother you on your wedding day?"
"I'm not bothered," Kakashi turned, looking at his oldest friend, giving him a reassuring promise. "Just a little nervous."
The silver-haired shinobi turned Hokage had never felt this way before. His chest swirled with tightness, and his mind raced from thought to thought. The whole village had its eyes on him and [y/n] today. Every gaze would be turned to their marriage, the Hokage and his new wife.
Gai slapped Kakashi on the back again, smiling broadly, "I'm happy for you, my old friend. You're a lucky one."
Kakashi laughed nervously, his fingers pushing the hair at the nape of his neck down. He still hadn't gotten used to the missing thicker locks that had been cut off earlier in the week. His mind traveled to his bride, dreamily manifesting the image of what she would look like walking towards him. He felt his chest tighten more, exhaling shakily.
"Your haori is ready," Yamato came through the office door, towing the Hokage's formal attire behind him carefully. Kakashi nodded, realizing the ceremony would be beginning shortly. He turned to the window behind his desk, looking down at the ceremony space designated for his wedding behind the Hokage's manor. Guests were trickling in one by one, all being greeted by Iruka, whom he had appointed.
"Perfect!" Gai exclaimed, grabbing the attire from Yamato's grasp, "let's get this party ROLLING!"
The sunlight was overbearing on his back as he made his way down the steps towards the ceremony space. His haori fit nicely, but the black, heavy material felt like two weights on his shoulders. He smiled at the guests, greeting the other Kage's respectively. Each congratulated him and encouraged him to not worry about hosting duties on his big day.
Kakashi looked around, taking in the surroundings for a moment as he adjusted his sleeves. Then, he thought of the day he asked y/n to marry him. Sitting quietly under a tree, her head had leaned against his shoulder, dozing off after their rather long walk to their favorite quiet spot on the outskirts of Konoha.
The wisteria blossoms had been in full bloom, dangling above them to create a sea of lavender-colored petals. He had taken her hand as she rested, silently and covertly slipping a ring on her finger with his shaking, cold hands. She hadn't budged at his movements, her breath shallow against the side of his neck.
"I love you," he had whispered against the shell of her ear, "and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Her eyes had fluttered open in surprise, dazed by his words. His fingers had grasped her hand gently and pulled them to his lips, kissing the tip of her ring finger with a tender, fervent gaze. When the realization had hit her, her arms had flown around him, pulling him close to her with a shower of kisses and affectionate affirmations following.
Looking back, the thought enveloped him in a warmth that wasn't from the sun casting down.
"Kakashi," Iruka called out, a smile stretched across his lips as he checked his watch, "all the guests have arrived."
"Good," Kakashi nodded, "I guess that means we're almost ready."
"Yes," Iruka smiled again eagerly. He hesitated for a moment and then leaned in, his voice just above a whisper. "It's time to go get your bride."
Kakashi looked over quickly at Iruka, his eyes glistening with excitement and nervousness. Iruka raised his eyebrows, urging the Hokage to go meet his future wife.
*****
You stood in your kimono, flattening the white fabric out nervously at your waist. Your hands felt clammy, and your heart thumped uncomfortably in your chest. Glancing at the clock, you couldn't help but think of the moments that ticked by that brought you closer to being Kakashi's wife.
Reaching up, you traced your eyelashes with the back of your finger, feeling the moisture from your eyes lying modestly between them. The emotions in your chest were overwhelming you, threatening to burst at any second. The joy consumed you as you inhaled heavily, feeling your lungs expand before letting out a shaky breath.
At one last glance, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered from the ornate flower in your hair, the rouge on your cheeks down to the bouquet you held at your waist. So this was really happening, you thought.
The sound of a gentle knock on the door caused your heart to skip into your throat. You turned, watching the handle turn quietly before opening a crack.
"[y/n]?" you heard Kakashi's hesitant yet soft voice from behind the opening.
"Yes?" you asked, unsure as to why. You had been waiting for him - for this moment when he would open the door and see you for the first time in your wedding dress. Your heart quivered in your ribcage.
"Can I come in?" he asked quietly, the smile evident in his voice.
"Yes," you replied, your voice exuding like a content sigh.
He didn't swing the door open like some men would, eager to see their bride and get down the aisle. Some men would never even think to knock, knowing full well that what was behind that door was theirs. But the Hokage was different, gentle in more ways than one, yet fiercely protective of what was his.
You hadn't realized you had been holding your breath as you watched him open the door. The sight of his slender fingers tenderly gripping the knob was all you could focus on for a moment, the overwhelming excitement and nervousness engrossing every cell in your body.
But when you finally looked up at him, your eyes catching his, everything felt peaceful. Nothing else mattered except for the gentle upturn of his eyebrows and the soft slope of his lips that curled into a smile. The recognition of his uncovered expression that you only saw intimately sent an electric shock through your body.
The distance between you both disappeared almost immediately. You felt the dance of his fingertips curve around your waist, pulling you close to him as you stifled a giggle of excitement that quickly turned into tears of delight. Tears brimmed at your eyes as you hugged him close, feeling his steady body against your chest and his fingertips spread between the skin of your shoulder blades. Nothing mattered at that moment.
"You look so beautiful," you felt his lips brush against your ear. You smiled against his jaw, feeling the soft prickle of his skin and the scent of his aftershave fill your senses.
"I wasn't expecting you to not wear your mask," you whisper into his neck as your hands hung lazily around his body. But, instead, you felt his hands gently grasp your shoulders, pulling you away to look at you. Your eyes scanned his face, the small mole on his chin resurrecting the smile you couldn't quite tame.
"I figured you'll be my wife shortly, so you should certainly get used to it," he lifted his finger and traced the curve of your own jaw, the feeling of his rough index finger traveling across your skin sent an electric shock through you. You felt heat erupt within you, and by the firm look he gave you, he had felt it too.
"Will you not be wearing it during the ceremony?" You asked hopefully.
He chuckled, pulling you back into his chest. You felt the echo of his laugh reverberate against you.
That was a no.
*****
The surreal environment you walked into with your fiance on your arm felt like you had been transported into a far-off dream you had had many months ago. The realization that all of your planning and praying for things to singularly come together to this moment overwhelmed your senses.
You looked down the aisle at Kakashi, his mask returned to cover his sharp features. Yet, a part of you didn't mind. It was the familiar face you had fallen in love with. You could see the shadow of a grin under the fabric of his face as you walked towards him. Sakura blossoms bobbed all around you, whispering in the breeze that swept his short hair to the side even more.
Once you reached him, you could see the outline of red around his eyes. The man who never showed his emotions in public unless absolutely necessary couldn't help but be overcome with passion at the sight of his bride. You reached for his hand, feeling the clamminess of his skin as you threaded your fingers through his. You smiled at him, and he leaned over to plant a soft kiss on your temple.
****
"You may kiss your bride," was all you heard as the ceremony ended. You looked up at him, delirious with joy as he smiled down at you, his wife. You narrowed your eyebrows when he didn't immediately press his lips to yours at the reader's consent. He waved your maid of honor over, pointing to your bouquet that she held for you.
"This?" your maid of honor asked, holding up the floral arrangement. He nodded, taking it from her as your attendees continued to cheer. You took it from her and looked back at him, puzzled by his strange request.
But when he pulled your wrist up to cover both of your faces with the bouquet, it all made sense. Shielding the two of you from the audience, you felt the pleasing satisfaction of his bare lips to yours, the sensation enough to send an electric shock through every cell in your body as he pulled your waist closer to his hips. Your whole body blushed at the thrill of kissing your husband without his mask in front of a hundred or so people.
Pulling away breathlessly, he looked down at you, relishing the look of awestruck satisfaction on your face as he pulled his mask back over his nose. Setting the bouquet back at your waist, you gave a dazed smile to the cheering attendees.
As you turned back to the ever louder cheering guests, you felt his lips touch the shell of your ear while you walked back down the aisle.
"Was that good enough for you?" He quipped, smiling behind his mask. You giggled at his remark, waving to your guests.
As you reached a private place behind the crowd, you let out a long sigh, waving your hand to fan yourself. You smiled, joy filling every nerve ending in your body.
Looking out at the crowd that dispersed to a cocktail hour, you felt the warm embrace of the Hokage's arms around your waist. You sighed again, inhaling his scent as he buried his lips in your neck. You felt his grip tighten on your hips.
"I love you," you murmured to him, caressing the hand on your hips. Quickly, he turned you around to face him, searching your face as if to emanate with his eyes how he was feeling.
"I don't think you understand," he whispered to you, his hand on your jaw. You reached up, your fingers brushing over his knuckles and the warm wedding band on his fingers.
"Understand what?" You giggled.
His face remained serious, his gaze overwhelming.
"Understand what?" You repeated quietly.
"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."
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let-them-read-fics · 3 years
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Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader
AU: Vampire
Word Count: ~ 5,564
Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood
Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.
A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜
PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Saturday, October 31st
You look like an idiot. 
The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best. 
A bonafide, absolute idiot. 
When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.
"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out. 
"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning. 
"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time. 
Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.
Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.
Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight. 
Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!
Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛
Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!
The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.
Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word. 
"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession. 
There's no way you think this one looks bad. 
"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck. 
"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features. 
"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too." 
"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."
You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter. 
"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all." 
"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier. 
The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday. 
"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool. 
"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend. 
"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door. 
"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh. 
---
20 Minutes Later -- The Party
Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week. 
"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…" 
"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees. 
"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling." 
Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests. 
Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways. 
*knock knock*
A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.
A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies. 
Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.
Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair. 
"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks. 
"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again. 
After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this. 
"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you. 
"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here." 
The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before. 
"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile. 
Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side. 
Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes. 
"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?" 
Jackson.
You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down. 
Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing. 
Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away. 
But alas, she doesn't. 
Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight. 
For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes. 
"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.
You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see." 
You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality. 
"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.
He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner. 
"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying." 
Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you. 
15 Minutes Later
Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation. 
In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people. 
"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks. 
"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party." 
You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?" 
"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one." 
You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?" 
Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me." 
"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip. 
PFFT
"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!" 
Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks. 
The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter. 
"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me." 
Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer. 
You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets. 
The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else. 
You can get your own revenge. 
Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them. 
It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you. 
After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion. 
Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away. 
"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes. 
Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later. 
Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen. 
"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers. 
The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her. 
"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall. 
Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.
Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge. 
A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun. 
"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are. 
Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover. 
Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path. 
Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up. 
Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you. 
Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you. 
Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be. 
She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers. 
"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!" 
Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting. 
Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.
Damnit. Someone's in there now. 
Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath. 
"What's wrong?" 
There's that voice again. 
Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it. 
"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me." 
The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like." 
"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches. 
"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas. 
You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads. 
Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little. 
"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.
Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled. 
Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters. 
When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs. 
When did that happen? 
You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you. 
Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you. 
Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.
The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment. 
She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy. 
You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.
"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her. 
The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against. 
"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time. 
There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?
The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now. 
"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly. 
"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to. 
"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out. 
"I'm Lisa." 
"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease. 
"Likewise, beautiful." 
The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced. 
She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips. 
"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing. 
"That I'd love to have your body on mine again." 
She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire. 
You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes. 
"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise. 
"That sounds wonderful." 
She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever. 
She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.
She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close. 
Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed. 
Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off. 
When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up. 
"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors. 
A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof. 
"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you. 
Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.
"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over. 
Shit, Lisa thinks to herself. 
Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away. 
But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window. 
You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now. 
"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building. 
Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations. 
She does a twirl, looking around. 
"It's gorgeous." 
"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up. 
"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out. 
Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms. 
"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her. 
She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months." 
Not a total lie, she thinks to herself. 
"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking. 
She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains. 
Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters. 
"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."
"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh. 
"Maybe, but it's the truth." 
"Sure, Lisa." 
She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms. 
The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace. 
The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song. 
Turning Page, you recognize it as.  
Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites. 
Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too." 
How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud… 
Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it. 
You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you. 
"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"
She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is. 
"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush" 
She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly. 
"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"
Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you. 
"I would have known what I was living for all along"
You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second. 
She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss. 
Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping. 
She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up. 
"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck. 
She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late. 
Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey. 
Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too. 
Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her. 
"Please…" 
That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more. 
Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go. 
She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.
When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there. 
Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before. 
Definitely not a hickie.
Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there. 
"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask. 
"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.
"Same as yours," she smiles.
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1kook · 3 years
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commercial break; SEVEN
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this is part of my netflix & chill series ! happens a few months before part 7 
summary; And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan.  warnings; horny jk, jk wants to roleplay... everyone point n laugh, mentions of his impreg kink lol, making out, tits, honestly jk is just very horny n in love lol, jk in a vampire costume w fangs O_o rating; mature (18+) wc; 2k
notes; if u don’t know who lindsay is first of all ur sick, second of all here’s my queen’s top moments. also i just gotta say, this was originally gonna be a larger fic (a halloween special) for my ncouple, but i got a lil busy with school n ultimately didn't have time to invest in this as a whole installment so..... enjoy this commercial break instead!!
Jungkook loves Halloween.
He loves the pumpkin carving and the decorating. Loves the spooky music and the abundance of candy. He loves it, absolutely adores it, and for the second year in a row, he gets to spend it with you! Yet another person he loves very much.
He doesn’t remember ever being this excited for Halloween. Last year, you had roped him into going to some frat party with him, had egged him on, begged so cutely that it was your last year in college, baby until he caved. The two of you had spent the night drinking until you blacked out, Ubering home with your costumes half on, and then unceremoniously fucking in his living room with the blinds wide open.
(The next neighborhood meeting had been very awkward for Jungkook.)
It was his first time ever drinking with you like that, and he vaguely remembers, through his own drunken gaze, how cool you had been. Had absolutely owned a bunch of greasy football players at beer pong in your little sexy nurse costume. And when the crowd cheered your name, shrieked in awe, it had been him that you turned to for praise. “Did you see me, baby,” you had giggled, crowded him against the wall of this random house until Jungkook was sweating profusely. In lieu of a costume, he had worn a silly jogger set with a skeleton design that was supposed to glow in the dark, according to Amazon. You had told him he looked adorable, had kissed and squeezed his cheeks until Jungkook was a flustered mess.
It was still early into your relationship— if Jungkook did the math, you were only about five months in at that point —so he didn’t know how else to cope with the rapid thundering of his heart, the confession sitting on his tongue, the then scary L-word begging to be heard. So, he took you home and fucked you until your little nurse cap slid off your head and you were begging for him to let you cum, thus earning him his first ever offense for violating the neighborhood rules (i.e., traumatizing a group of middle schoolers by fucking in plain sight).
Long story short, Jungkook loves Halloween, and he loves it even more when he gets to spend it with you.
(He’ll never admit it, but he’s a hard romantic. He wants to do cheesy things with you, like cuddle you into his arms when you get scared, pat your head until you can look at whatever is happening on screen again. He wants you to feel safe in his arms, wants to be your refuge when things become too much. He likes to think he’s done a pretty good job so far.)
Jungkook’s plan goes like this:
First, welcome you with that Halloween basket you’ve been sending him tweet links about all month. The cute little Jack-O-lantern candy bucket stuffed with candy and hair ties and a soft Halloween themed blanket. It’s so cheesy, makes him blush when he catches sight of it in his closet, but Jungkook will do anything to please you.
Next, after presenting you with your Halloween gift and having you coo and tell him he’s a good boy, he’ll invite you to break your new soft blanket in. The living room will be prepared with an assortment of your favorite foods, the flat screen ready to play whatever horror movie the two of you settle on.
And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare.
It’s a perfect plan.
It’s the best way to spend his favorite holiday, with his favorite girl by his side and some of his favorite horror films on the big screen. Jungkook spends all of October geeked up for it, even considers hanging up lights around the living room to really set the mood. He’s so excited, can’t wait to spend another wonderful holiday at home with you, that he doesn’t fully realize why you haven’t brought up the long awaited topic of costumes.
“You like?” you ask, standing at the door of his bathroom with a sultry look in your eye, tits practically pouring out of the tight top you’ve wiggled into, skin oiled up scandalously. He fumbles with the fake vampire fang prosthetics he’d been trying to glue in for the better half of an hour.
He had heard the door open downstairs when you got here, had called out his mandatory greeting as he heard you come up the stairs. But none of that had prepared him for the sight of you in… whatever this was.
Jungkook doesn’t really understand exactly what you’re supposed to be dressed up as until the two of you are back downstairs—blinds drawn, full moon slipping in through the cracks—with some random horror movie pulled up on the TV. “I’m Lindsey,” you whine, brand new fluffy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It shields your boobs from view, but he’s not sure if that’s a win or a loss. “From Total Drama Island!”
He settles in beside you, doesn’t get too comfortable because it’s nearing sundown now and he knows the herds of children are bound to start flowing in. “Uh huh,” he says mindlessly. His collar feels itchy, the overly-detailed vampire costume he meticulously scoured the internet for being one size too small. You snuggle into his side anyway.
“You don’t know anything about cinematic masterpieces,” you frown, avidly tuned into The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, because apparently you love horror movies all of a sudden, a fact that genuinely throws Jungkook off. He’s not sure what it is about you that had deluded him into thinking you would be a scaredy cat, but he doesn’t take the new bit of information too hard.
The doorbell rings right as the first gorey scene ends and you make a big show of huffing and whining as he rushes to answer it. But it’s only the beginning of the long night that awaits, and, as Jungkook comes to find, running back and forth from the door to the couch is harder than it seems.
Anyway, Jungkook’s neighborhood is a little posh, or ‘bougie’ as you like to claim, and trick-or-treating hours end a little before eleven pm. By then he’s tired, having refused your offer to switch places in fear that your boob might fall out of that scrap of fabric you call a top and earn him his second neighborly offense.
However, that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to your boobs falling out in private.
“Stupid,” you giggle when he gets caught in his long cape, the sound slowly melting into a whimper as he slips his hands beneath your top, fighting with the ridiculous push-up bra you’ve donned tonight. Hands tangle in his hair, mess up the careful side part he’d styled up for tonight, and legs lock around his waist. “Your curtains closed?” you tease.
He huffs, catches your chatty lips with his roughly, presses and presses until your mouth must bruise. He belatedly remembers about those sharp fangs he’d glued on—hey, if he was going to dress up as some gaudy monster it might as well be realistic—and doesn’t realize until he tries to bite your neck and you let out a little yelp. Truthfully, he feels bad right away, but then you’re practically dissolving in his arms so he plays along. “Shh,” he hisses.
The roar of a chainsaw and terrified screams fill the living room, almost drowning out the soft sounds you release by his ear. “O- Or what?” you pant, flinch when he pushes your sad excuse of a skirt up over your waist. “Gonna b- bite me?”
And so Jungkook does.
You shriek. “That hurts, you idiot!” you scold with a tiny whine in your voice, but Jungkook’s cock is so hard. Your tiny, tight outfit does you no favors. Tits in his face, tiny thong against his bulge. He wants to make you sob, litter bites and marks all over your skin until his love makes you ache. You must see the crazed look in his eyes, because you drop the scowl. “Hey,” you say slowly, hand on his chest. “You look like you’re gonna eat me.”
He lets go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He wonders if you can feel his thundering heart beneath your palm. “Fuck,” he sighs, leaning away to regain his senses. Was it something in the air? Was it the fatigue? The full moon? Why did he want to fold you in half and fuck his cock into you until you were a crying, shivering mess? Something about you tonight, laid out for him to take, makes him feel absolutely insane. Starved and psycho; he just wants to take and take until you don’t have anything more to give. He purses his lips, tries to ignore the hot feeling in his lower abdomen when your hardened nipples register to his eyes. “I think I’m becoming evil.”
Of all the idiotic things his brain can come up with, this one is definitely top five. His cheeks flush right after, fueled by the boisterous laughter that escapes your lips at his statement. “Oh my god,” you gasp in glee, hands falling down beside your head. “You’re becoming evil?’
Jungkook frowns, flopping down on top of you to hide the embarrassment that paints his face. “Shut up,” he mumbles against your neck, warm and safe.
A hand cards through the back of his hair, nails dig lightly into his scalp. “Aren’t you the cutest little vampire,” you coo, seemingly ignoring the rock hard cock Jungkook presses against your thigh. He’s still so horny, has this sick thought that he could just pin you down right here, tear that silly costume to shreds and swallow you up in his lust. But your voice is so sweet, has his eyes fluttering shut as you gather him in his arms. “Silly vampire,” you hum, one leg thrown around his hip, a subtle roll of you hips up into him.
Jungkook huffs, licks a flat strip along the base of your neck. It draws a shaky exhale from you, has your hands digging into his back when he begins to slowly lap against the skin, nibble and tug until your back is deliciously arching up into him. “Wanna push you down,” he confesses quietly, hands securing themselves against your hips as he leans back. You're all dazed, eyes trained on his fanged mouth when he hesitantly adds, “l- little human.”
You could laugh, tease him for his sudden weird need to role play with you, but you don’t. A look of understanding crosses your face, sly smirk slowly following. “Oh?” you grin, hand coming around to cup his cheek. “The little vampire wants to use my body?” Jungkook tightens his jaw at your jab, but nods nonetheless.
You’re a feast before his eyes. Boobs in his face, pussy begging to be filled. You’re his, just like Jungkook is yours. And when you indulge him and his stupid whims—kinks, he should say, occasional interests that sometimes make him question himself—his heart feels warm and full. Proud and unashamed, like the truest version of himself when you look at him with those eyes. And your words only confirm it.
Your hands reach down for your top, pull the flimsy material over your head in one swoop that has your bra coming off with it. It drops to the floor. If it makes a sound, Jungkook doesn’t hear it over the shrieks of terror on screen. the blood deaths, the suspenseful music. All he hears is he hammering of his heart. 
It’s two of your sneaky fingers that come up to play, pinch one nipple tenderly as you meet his eyes. “It’s all yours,” you purr. “I’m all yours.”
And the thirst he feels, well. It’s a little vampiric, to say the least. 
Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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siriusmydeer · 3 years
Note
HI OMG IM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS REQUEST 🌗 Sirius with fluff prompts 26 and 29? You don’t have to, of course, but I thought it was a very cute and emotional idea!
the floor was cold
sirius black x fem!reader
summary: sirius needs you, and you’re always there.
word count: 1.1k
warnings: mentions of child abuse, mentions of crying, mentions of arranged marriage, angst-fluff?
a/n: dude i wrote this in math class
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the deep tiles of the floor were cold— atleast sirius knew how cold the floor could be. from being laid upon it myriads of times at the hands of his very mother, the person who was suppose to kiss away your cuts, sew the patches of your clothes and wipe away your tears away, could only inflict pain on the vanquished boy. so, he knew how tremendously frigid his tiled floors were.
he knew stained paper, exceedingly smudged ink roaming the parchment from tears that fell upon his waterline and seeped deeply into the ivory-parchment with the black-family crest. deep snakes with a ‘B’ right in the middle, never-without the signature emerald-green ink.
some would say it was a crest of power, maybe envy. but to him— it was the crest of evil.
he knew pain, he knew guilt, he knew remorse— but there was one emotion that he was infact capable of, one that he barely knew due to the unstable bridges built in his household; the childhood emotion that was normally felt upon anyone, happiness. the boy could barely distinguish the feeling of happiness.
until the ripe age of eleven he knew dread, and breath-shaking fear, the next heir was all he was in the eyes of his family. till he was coated in the colours red and gold, directed from the sorting hat, and across the room he layed eyes upon you.
he couldn’t believe someone at the age of eleven was so beautiful, then he knew that you were kind from all the ‘hellos’ you had sent his way, that you were intelligent from every time in potions you would fix his notes without even asking, and then he knew that he didn’t just want you to be his friend.
he classified his three gryffindor mates as his family, his brothers. but you, you were different, he didn’t want sisterly love— he didn’t want platonic love that’s shared between close friends. the big realization that struck him at the blossoming age of thirteen, gaping at you writing your charms notes for him because of how intolerable his scrawny handwriting was.
the only sound to be heard the comfortable silence being the scratching of your quill against the parchment, a parchment that wasn’t stained with tears but still his to keep. over the holidays of third year he received a letter, from you, and for once when he received a letter— he didn’t have the urge to stain it with his despondent tears.
you were important, no, you were everything to him. so you could imagine his freight at the fact he could loose you, his person, with his heaps of feelings just ready to pour out to you without fault. so he waited, he waited for a long while.
he waited till evan rosier asked you on a date, he didn’t think he could have such feelings of spite and bitterness till it was displayed right in front of his demoralized eyes. then in one moment, he told you quite literally everything. but sirius was suddenly no longer frightful, he was beaming— because you his past best friend, was now his present girlfriend.
he was radiant, purely joyful with you on his arm. one to love, one to care, and one to be there through the thickness that he couldn’t endure alone. he was euphoric until one day he saw the same crest— and suddenly, the ink was smudged with the same sorrowful tears.
he sat in the same place upon his bed, the same designated bed he had for the past several years at hogwarts. thin ivory parchment clutched into his right hand, one singular sentence slithering through every nook and cranny in his mind like that same snake that was labeled upon the black-family crest.
‘we are setting you up for an arranged marriage.’
it was barely perceptible due to the crinkles in the paper and the amount of stygian ink smeared onto the thin paper that he had the urge to burn too ashes and just toss in his parents faces.
the room was dead silent, the window slightly creaked open to allow the gusts of cool air to formulate in the empty room; just the solemn boy sitting in his bed— receiving the worst news that could’ve ever been said to him. goosebumps were arising on his forearms like he was back to when he was the small boy when he was eleven, left frigid and terror-stricken on the black tiled floor.
he missed the sound of the creaking door and the murmured footsteps of your soft shoes against the hardwood floor of his dormitory. suddenly flinching at the touch of your hand on your shoulder, instantaneously gaping at your dismayed face.
he layed his hand upon yours, suddenly slotting his digits between your fingers. showing his remorse through his actions— his own exertion speaking louder than words ever could. you caught sight of the wrinkled sheet grasped in his opposite hand. you went to grab it seeing as to how much pain one piece of paper could cause a boy, your boy, sirius opting to push it away behind him.
“you are my family.” he first spoke in sincerity, not even a small amount of dishonesty in his tone. he grasped at your other hand, pulling you to sit right in front of his slouched form.
you saw the dilation in his pupil at his pearl-coloured irises. the gaze was strong, showing the bond you had both built over several years. the flecks of cerulean spotted in his irises, the outline of grey around his pupils. the shades of the ridden black-family now in the purest form.
“sirius... you’re not your family.” you had suspected that is what the streaked parchment had regarded, most likely another foul request of his family or unkind words directly from his mother.
“you are sirius black, my gryffindor keeper, the boy who turned into an animagus for his best friend. you’re not malicious, your compassionate and thoughtful.” you crooned directly to him, seeing him sit up a bit rather than a slouched and dejected form more-so hopeful and waiting in anticipation for your next words.
you were both silent for a moment, stroking his hand while he basked in your small affections. you were there— and boy did you care for him.
“i didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.” he chucked, small sniffs lingering as he let the words carve into his mind that now he only started to believe. feeling your small strokes pause for a moment, he took it upon himself to press a small kiss to the palm of your hand, remaining the eye contact. the adoration in his eyes prominent as he looked at you.
he wasn’t evil, he was compassionate. and only now was he starting to believe it; because you of you.
taglist: @fific7 @wisedreamcatcher @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @msmb @fangouria @five-cups-of-coffee @dracofknmalfoy @emmaev @serenitywilderness @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul
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motherjoel · 3 years
Text
hot cocoa (spencer reid x reader)
summary: spencer accidentally spills some of penelopes famous hot cocoa onto a beautiful stranger in the airport (who just so happens to be sitting next to him on the plane)
a/n: this one takes place during the holidays but its not all about xmas! also i tried to make this gender neutral and i think it is but if i missed something let me know
wc: 2.2k
warnings/includes: reader curses a lot & has flight anxiety, spencer is awkward and sweet
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Spencer was rarely late- even when he had food poisoning from some bad chinese food, he made it into work with time to spare. Sure, he might have turned green at the sight of the evidence board, but he even made it to the trash can in time. His punctuality had come into question today, however, as he booked it to the boarding area. I shouldn’t have let Garcia distract me, he thought back to the holiday party at the office. Well, surprise party- they had all returned from a case sore and exhausted, but of course Penelope had baked an entire array of cookies and decorated the office to the brim. He stayed for one cup of hot cocoa, which turned into three, and before he knew it, his flight was an hour away. With his travel mug filled with cocoa in hand, he awkwardly ran through the airport to catch his flight home to Vegas.
Spencer never considered himself a coordinated person- sure, he had to have a certain level of finesse to be an FBI agent, but if he wasn’t a genius he never would have passed the physical. So when he found himself tripping over his own feet in the middle of an airport, he wasn’t as much surprised as he was perturbed. That annoyance soon shifted into pure embarrassment when he looked up to see you- the ethereal being he had just spilled Penelope’s famous hot cocoa onto. The beautiful person whose “I <3 DC” sweatshirt was now stained an unattractive shade of brown. His mind went completely blank in that moment, the apology he had wished to conjure up lying dead on his tongue. As he began to stammer in shock he stopped in his tracks- you were laughing. A noise Spencer swears could find world peace and end world hunger. A voice that finally encouraged Spencer to find his own.
“I am so sorry,” he apologized, hands frantically flying to his personal pack of tissues he kept in his bag. You continued to laugh, doubled over as you accepted the wad of tissues.
“Oh, it's okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “God, I definitely seem insane. Sorry, I’ve just been having one hell of a shitty day,” you began to explain, confusing Spencer even more. “So my boyfriend breaks up with me the morning of my flight across the country, which I’m running a bit late for,” you continued, glancing at your watch. “But I have to go home for the holidays of course so I pack my shit and head out anyway, but I forget a sweatshirt! I’m freezing cold so I buy this overpriced ugly thing,” you gestured to your now-stained sweatshirt. “Only for you to spill your…” you sniffed the mess, “hot cocoa?” you questioned, Spencer nodded frantically, “all over it. I guess that's one way of warming up,” you huffed. 
“Wow, I- um, I don’t really know what to say. I’m really sorry about your day being bad. And for spilling my drink on you, of course, um,” he reached into his suitcase and pulled out his backup cardigan. “Here, take this,” he said, almost shoving the knitwear into your hands. “Please, it’s the least I can do,” he said, unintentionally flashing what Prentiss called his “puppy dog eyes.” He exhaled in relief as you grabbed the sweater from him, sliding off your stained hoodie and replacing it with his soft and coffee-scented cardigan. 
“Thanks. And I’m sorry for dumping my days' trauma on you, but I really do have a flight to catch, so,” you gestured towards the boarding area (which just so happened to be his designated boarding area). You rushed off to board the plane after giving him a tight-lipped smile and a soft wave, leaving him in a dazed state. Breaking out of his trance, he grabbed his suitcase and continued his beeline towards the plane. 
There was something about you that stuck with Spencer- although it may not have been your proudest moment, he was incredibly intrigued by you and the way you reacted to disaster. Spencer had seen his fair share of terrible coping mechanisms, but the way you laughed in the face of tragedy was something he admired- envied, almost. Envy wasn’t the right word for it, there were no negative connotations he associated with the way he felt about you. Perhaps it was too soon to tell.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped onto the plane, the anxiety of missing his flight finally lifted. Said anxiety was soon replaced by a new feeling that was ruled by a flutter in his chest, one that he had only experienced a few times in his life. This fluttery feeling was the result of seeing you planted in the seat directly next to the one written on his plane ticket. His breath caught in his throat as you looked up from the book in your hand, giving him a small wave. His eyes widened as he looked around, wondering if you were actually waving at him. You laughed and looked back down at your book, a soft smile rested on your lips. As Spencer got closer to his seat he could feel his heart rate picking up. You looked up from your book as he struggled slightly to lift his carryon into the overhead compartment. His cheeks heated up in embarrassment over the struggle, but he eventually managed to secure his carryon, taking a seat in 32 B. 
“So we meet again,” you smiled at the disheveled man next to you.
“So we do,” Spencer smiled and grabbed his copy of Les Miserables from his backpack- he lost track of how many times he had read it, but it was an easy plane read for him.
“I’m Y/N, by the way. Sorry, I probably should’ve introduced myself earlier after telling you my life story. I just didn’t expect to be sitting next to you,” you said with amusement.
“I’m Spencer, and no problem. Hows, um, the sweater?” he asked, trying to continue the conversation. Normally he’d be a quarter through his book by now, but you were a rare something that was more interesting to him than Victor Hugo. 
“It’s great! Cozier than my ‘I heart DC’ hoodie for sure,” you laughed and Spencer swore he heard angels singing.
“I’m glad, I felt really bad. Hot chocolate is actually a really difficult stain to remove because it has fat, sugar, tannins, and protein. It would take a lot of work to remove that stain, especially with the chocolate to milk ratio Penelope uses,” Spencer rambled, the embarrassment setting in the second he closed his mouth.
“Penelope?” you asked, genuinely curious.
“Oh, she's my coworker. She’s known for her hot chocolate and her cookies. Oh!” Spencer remembered the plastic bag of cookies Garcia had sent him home with. “Want one? They’re chocolate chip,” he said, grabbing the bag of cookies and holding it out to you.
“Sure,” you laughed, taking a bite of the surprisingly delicious cookie. “Oh. My. God. That is incredible! This Penelope person has a gift,” you laughed, finishing the cookie surprisingly fast.
“I’ll be sure to let her know,” Spencer smiled, taking a cookie for himself. A comfortable silence ensued as the two of you munched on your cookies, the plane almost done boarding.
“So, what brings you to Vegas?” you asked. Spencer was a little confused as to why you wanted to talk to him, but he decided not to question the anomaly.
“Oh, I’m visiting my mother for the holidays. I work at Quantico in Virginia so I don’t get to see her too often,” he shared, surprised at his willingness to be open.
“That’s nice! I’m kinda doing the same, except I am not returning to DC,” you sighed. Spencer felt his heart drop as he internally begged for you to elaborate, and as if reading his mind, you continued. “That boyfriend I mentioned earlier was kinda my only reason for moving here, and now that he's a cheating jackass- sorry, oversharing again, um, now that we broke up, I’ll probably just stay in Vegas,” you explained, opening the book in front of you and mindlessly flipping through the pages. He focused on the chipped nail polish painted on your bitten nails as you turned the pages, eyes moving to the title of the book.
“Le Petit Prince?” he asked, pointing at your book.
“Oh, yeah. I’m trying to teach myself some french so I’m reading this to get a little better,” you smiled before your eyes drifted down to the thick book in his lap. “You’re reading Les Mis?” you asked, slightly shocked at the french writing on the cover.
“Yeah, well it's my.... fourth, I think, time reading it. Well, in the original french,” he said, oblivious to his accidental brag.
“Damn, are you a genius or something?” you laughed, noticing the blank stare on Spencer’s face. “Wait. You are,” you pointed at him, your shock turning into joy.
“Well, technically, I am I guess,” he smiled awkwardly, trying not to flaunt his intelligence.
“That’s so cool! God, maybe if I was a genius I could get past the first chapter of this book,” you huffed, looking defeatedly at your book once again.
“May I ask, why are you learning French? It’s the fourth most important language behind Mandarin Chinese, Spanish and German. That’s just my opinion, of course,” he said, slightly flustered by the look on your face.
“Yeah, I guess it's not the most practical. But there's something so romantic about France, you know?” you asked and he nodded, blushing lightly. “I’ve always wanted to visit Paris, hell, maybe even live there. It’s stupid,” you laughed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.
“No, it’s not. It’s called the city of love for a reason,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. You were both silent for a moment before the flight attendants began their safety announcements and prepared for takeoff. Spencer noticed you stiffen as the engine started to rumble and the plane got faster. “Are you okay?” he asked as you shut your eyes tightly together.
“Yeah, yes, um. I just have really bad flight anxiety,” you confessed, eyes remaining closed. The plane lifted off the ground and you sucked in a deep breath, instinctively reaching over to grab Spencer's hand. All thoughts of germs and disease had completely left his mind at your touch- facts and logic meant nothing at this point if it meant you wouldn’t let go. “Could you just um, distract me?” you asked, peeking at him from the corner of your eye, hand still clutching his.
“Oh, yeah of course,” he said, thinking quickly for a distraction before grabbing the book from your lap and opening it to the first page. In perfect french, he began to read. “Lorsque j’avais six ans j’ai vu, une fois, une magnifique image…” he read for almost an hour before he felt your head relax on his shoulder, eyes closed. He continued to read for a bit longer before the lull of sleep pulled him under as well, your touch comforting him and providing safety.
Spencer woke a few hours later with a start to the seatbelt light beeping on. Gathering his bearings he looked to his left to see you already awake, looking at him with a smile.
“You’re cute when you sleep. Snore a bit, though,” you laughed and yawned, looking out the window. Spencer's heart rate picked up at your mussed hair and dazed expression. “Thank you for reading to me. I’m completely chill now,” you reassured him.
“Oh, no problem. Also, I’m not the only one who snores,” he quipped, a soft smirk on his lips.
“Hey, gimme a break! That was the most I’ve slept in days,” you defended.
“Believe it or not, me too,” Spencer realized, surprised that he slept more on an airplane than in his own bed. Maybe that difference was you.
“Looks like we’re almost landing,” you noticed, causing a pang in Spencer’s chest.
“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he acknowledged with a slight tone of disappointment.
“Hey. So this might sound crazy, but what if I gave you my number? And while you’re still in Vegas, maybe we can hang out? Sorry if this is too forward,” you cringed in embarrassment.
“No!” he started, eyes wide.
“Oh, okay. I shouldn’t have asked,” you immediately took back your statement.
“No! I mean, it's not too forward. I, uh would love to… hang out with you,” Spencer said, the words seeming unfamiliar on his tongue. The smile you gave him seemed to stop the earth for a few seconds (although Spencer knew this was scientifically impossible, something about you defied laws of science). 
The plane soon landed and numbers were exchanged, and one unexpected (but lovely) goodbye hug was given, and Spencer was floating. He couldn’t wait to tell his mom.
-
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garbagevanfleet · 3 years
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Brightest Blue (series)
PART EIGHT
Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: snuggling, tiny amount of bodily injury  Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: I’ve been on a tiny bit on a hiatus, but here you go! Thanks for all of your support! I love you 
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taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack​ @myownparadise96​
MASTERPOST 
Kate was missing from class on Friday, to your deep dismay. You had been hoping to tell her about how shitty Trevor had been, but instead, you received a text that she had overslept her alarm and decided to just stay home.
That left you and Josh alone at lunch, just like you had been at the beginning of the year. He was excitedly explaining that there were a few kids in his production that you would “absolutely love”, and you had to agree.
“They’re catching on so fast. Rachel gave them some not-so-easy routines to the choreography, and they’ve almost got it down. I feel like that’s tough for kids so young, you know?”
You couldn’t help but grin as he spoke with such candor.
“I was doubtful that they would be able to get it, but she insisted that they could,” he finished, grabbing his bottle of water and lifting it to his mouth.
You had your lips open to reply until you caught sight of his hand; the knuckles were bruised just lightly enough that you couldn’t tell if it was just the lighting or not. As soon as he caught you eyeing it, he went to set the bottle back down.
“What happened?” You laid your hand down on the table, palm up as a gesture for him to take it. Reluctantly, he did, and you took a moment to inspect.
“It’s nothing, I’m just clumsy,” he said, pairing his assurance with a sweet smile.
You frowned at him in disbelief. “No, you’re not; I saw you make that shot across the room with your sucker stick the other night. You’re very well coordinated.”
He stared into your eyes for a moment as he gauged your reaction, and then hummed amusedly. “It’s really not that bad, it just looks gross. Just a musical mishap.” You shot him a look, to which he quickly replied, “Don’t worry about me, ‘kay?”
Not sure what else to say, you pushed forward the ziplock baggie of apple slices you had been munching on. He reached in and plucked one out for himself.
“Do you want to have a movie night with me tonight? You could invite Kate if you want.”
The offer made you genuinely smile, though you hadn’t quelled the long list of questions you still had.
“That sounds lovely. I think we have string cheese, so we could make homemade mozzarella sticks or something.”
He was looking at you in an oddly serious fashion, and you weren’t sure what he was going to say until he opened his mouth. “Hell yeah.”
+++
You hadn’t considered that you’d have to see Trevor again so soon, or rather - you did, but you had been pushing it to the farthest corner of your brain, not at all ready to think about it. So that’s why when you were sitting in class and he walked in, your stomach lurched.
You tried to keep looking straight ahead, but it only lasted so long before you couldn’t help yourself. He was sitting as far away from you as he could get, but it still wasn’t terribly far.
He had his eyes firmly on his desk, head tipped down. His posture was crumpled in on itself, and you could only imagine how embarrassed he was - or at least you hoped he was. At the very least, you knew he should be.
Until the end of class, you kept yourself busy - even tried to actually pay attention, but when you were dismissed, you let out a relieved breath.
You stood and collected your things, then promptly headed for the door.
On the way out, he looked up and met your gaze, and the sight of his face made the air catch in your lungs.
The skin around his left eye was stained a purplish-grey, his brows tipped down into a scowl.
You hadn’t hit him that hard, had you? A whole cocktail of emotions flooded your brain, and you bit your bottom lip, ripping your eyes away from him as you exited the room.
Your pace was a bit faster than usual, which is why you beat Josh to the B doors by a couple of minutes.
Could slapping someone give them a black eye? You thought yes, but there would have to be some real force behind it. You were pretty sure that you’d have to wind up to get him that good.
“What’s wrong?”
You hadn’t even heard Josh approaching you, so it made you startle just enough for him to notice. He put his hand on your back in a comforting gesture.
“Ah, sorry. I was just thinking,” you replied, giving him a weak smile.
“About what?” he chanced softly.
“Nothing - not a big deal.” You started off walking, him right by your side, matching your pace.
  “How are things going with the play? You haven’t even told me what it’s about yet.”
His face lit up. “You haven’t asked. We’re doing Alice In Wonderland. Some of the songs are original.”
“What, like you wrote them?” you asked, looking over at him with a shocked expression.
He nodded, laughing under his breath. “Rachel is working on the wardrobe; costume design and all of that. I have the sculpture class working on the props and set, but they can only come like once a week.”
“Do you need any help?”
He looked over at you, surprised. “Do you want to? Can you paint?”
You shrugged. “Kinda. I mean, I can make it work. I’m not perfect, but it’s manpower, at least,” you admitted.
“No, no - any help would be amazing but don’t overexert yourself. You need to still work on your stuff.”
“I won’t,” you promised. “I’m happy to help.”
+++
You had texted Kate at lunch asking if she wanted to come for a movie night, as Josh had suggested, and she had eagerly agreed. You were still surprised, however, when she showed up with a handbag full to the brim.
You watched her pull out a bag of kettle corn, a few little glass bottles of nail polish, some packets of face masks, a stack of DVDs, and a bottle of white wine - all while chatting you up about her morning.
“This looks like just a girl thing, so I’ll leave you guys to it,” Josh said, not a shred of animosity in his tone, but you frowned up at him from the couch as he stood.
You went to open your mouth to protest, but Kate beat you to it. “Oh, no, you should stay. I brought three masks.” She fanned them out like a deck of cards in her hand.
He raised his eyebrows at her, looking rather impressed. “Oh.”
“You do want nice skin, right?” she prompted.
“He has very nice skin,” you replied in his defense, making her shoot you a look.
“Everyone has room for improvement,” she quipped back, as Josh just shrugged at you.
“I’m down,” he agreed, taking his seat again on the couch. “Are we watching a chick flick?”
“Well, I brought some choices. Otherwise, I’m open to suggestions if you guys have any good ones.”
“Maybe we should let Josh pick,” you suggested. “Since he’s going to be the one really watching it while we do nails.”
She smiled at you and then him. “You heard her - gentleman’s choice.”
“So, if I pick Human Centipede,” he started through a shit-eating grin.
You lovingly rolled your eyes at him. “If you own Human Centipede, I’m going to be moving out.”
He tipped his head back and laughed unabashedly.
In the end, he picked a rom-com, which you knew he would, and took a seat next to you on the couch. About a quarter of the way through, you realized that Kate didn’t have a lot of intention of actually watching a movie, per se. It seemed that she was more interested in using it for background noise.
The night was therapeutic. Everything felt easy. You found yourself laughing genuinely, leaned in to watch as Kate dabbed a wet washcloth over Josh’s nose, causing him to scrunch it up in distaste. She immediately scolded him, explaining that it had to be wet for the mask to work right, and he needed to sit still.
Once it was on, you couldn’t help but snap a picture of him as he play-pouted at you, his bottom lip jutted out.
It wasn’t until your nails were finished that you started to feel a chill. “Does it feel cold in here to you?” you asked.
Both of them looked at you questioningly.
“Maybe just a little bit,” Kate agreed.
Wordlessly, Josh stood and grabbed a thick blanket from the basket by his side of the couch and then spread it out of your laps. You had thanked him, and that had fixed the problem for then, but by the time Kate was packing her stuff up and ready to leave, you had a chill you just couldn’t shake.
As soon as she was gone, you turned to him and frowned. “You really aren’t cold? Like at all?”
“It’s a little cold, yeah,” he agreed, but you sensed it was mostly to make you feel better. ��Do you want a sweatshirt?”
You nodded, giving him a grateful look.
“I hope I’m not getting sick,” you mumbled.
He frowned at you, rubbing at your shoulder. “Hang on, I’ll check the thermostat.”
His feet made a patting sound as he crossed the hardwood; a sound that had become a comfort to you.
“Hmm, it is colder than usual in here. I’ll turn the heat up,” he replied, and then a moment later, he finished. “The heat isn’t kicking on for some reason.”
You shot him a concerned look, suddenly terrified you were going to freeze.
“Hang on, I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, where are you going?” you asked as you watched him make his way to the front door.
“Just into the hall, sit tight.” With that, he disappeared.
You pulled his sweatshirt on and sat back onto the couch, your knees tucked up to your chest and the blanket up to your neck.
When he got back in, he gave you a sympathetic look. “Apartment 4 said that theirs is working just fine, so I think I’m going to call the landlord.”
“It’s 9:30 at night,” you reminded him, brows tipped up in concern.
“Yeah, but heat is kind of an emergency here in the winter.” The phone was already up to his ear as he spoke. You could hear the line ring and then someone pick up on the other end. He explained the situation to her with ease at first, but he seemed to quickly lose his patience with her.
“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” he snapped, filling a tea kettle with water. “It’s going to get freezing in here tonight.”
Then a pause, and you could hear her responding pointedly.
He let out a huff. “We don’t have the money for that. What are we supposed to do?”
You could hear him relent, just by the tone of his voice. He thanked her and then promptly hung up. You waited for him to come over, two cups of tea in hand, before you threw any questions at him.
“Well?” you asked, knowing full well that nothing had been accomplished.
He exhaled a long breath. “She said she’ll get someone on it later tomorrow, and if we wanted it fixed tonight, we’d have to pay for it upfront and she’d pay us back minus the emergency fee.”
You frowned but still reached your hand out of the blanket to set comfortingly on his knee. “It’s okay. Thank you for trying.”
“We’ll pile the blankets on you tonight,” he promised.
But even with - what you were sure was - twenty pounds of blankets, you were cold in your bed. You laid, staring at the ceiling for nearly an hour, trying to will yourself warm. You even tried moving around a bunch under the blankets, hoping to produce enough heat from friction, but it was no use.
You had known what you were going to have to do just moments after settling under the covers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it until you started to shiver involuntarily.
You let out an annoyed huff and pushed the covers off. It wasn’t until you were out in the open air that you realized how much warmer it actually was under the covers.
You crossed the hall, poking your head into Josh’s doorway.
“Josh,” you whispered into the dim room, and he stirred instantly.
“Yeah,” he responded, a rasp in his throat.
It took you a second to work up the courage to ask, “Can I sleep in here tonight? I cannot get warm for the life of me.”
“Yeah, of course.” His reply came after a moment of him shifting over for you.
You rushed back to your bedroom, snatching the blankets off of the bed. They were too thick to really bunch them up in your arms to carry, so you ended up half-dragging them over. When you returned, he held the comforter open for you.
“I hope I’m not intruding.” You climbed in, quickly pulling all of the blankets over you as he helped you situate them comfortably.
He shushed you assuringly.
“Why is your bed so warm?” you complained, shuffling down until the blankets were up to your chin.
The smile on his lips could be heard through the hum he let out. “I’m used to the cold. I’m sorry to tell you that this isn’t even close to the coldest it’ll get here. You probably haven’t had to make your own body heat much back home.”
“This is literally like body heat donation for the needy,” you teased, turning in bed until you were facing him. “Can I lay where you were laying?”  
“What, no,” he said through an incredulous laugh.
“I bet it’s so warm though,” you whined. “Feel how cold my feet are.”
You shifted until you could press your toes against his bare ankle, making him jolt.
“Jesus,” he hissed. “If you want the heat you’re just going to have to come over by me.”
You took a second to gauge that response, trying to find any evidence of teasing in his tone. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“How do you wanna do this?” His tone sounded like it was inching toward disbelief.
Through a frown, you asked, “What do you mean?”
The sound of him quietly clearing the sleep from his throat filled the otherwise quiet room. “Just. I don’t know, do you wanna put a blanket between us?”
You giggled breathily at him. “No, I’m too cold to be worried about modesty, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Okay, I’m just going to lay here and you just situate yourself however feels comfortable for you.”
Without any hesitation, you scooted toward him until your chest was flush to his side, your chin rested against his shoulder.
“Is this okay?” you inquired, snuggling deeper under the sheets.
The warmth was heavenly.
“Your skin is fucking freezing,” he mumbled, clearly close to sleep again already.
“Good, so you see that the situation is dire,” you quipped, wriggling your fingers until he let you slip them between his chest and his bicep. His muscles jumped, and you could tell just how cold your skin was just from the way he felt hot to the touch.
He breathed a laugh, and in a teasing tone, agreed, “Life-threatening, I’d go so far as to say. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?”
You agreed, pressing your nose against the sleeve of his shirt, and drifted off.
+++
When you woke, it was to the sound of his alarm. You felt him reach a hand out of the covers and flick his phone off, putting a stop to the shrill ringing instantly.
It took you a second to realize you were borderline hot. You couldn’t figure out why it was so dark until you realized that one of the sheets was almost completely over your head, blocking out the sun that shone through the slats in his blinds. You wiggled until your head was out from under the blanket, but quickly pulled it back up to your chin when you felt how the cold room made your skin prickle.
Once you got your wits about you, you wiped the sleep from your eyes, popping them open in shock when you realized the position you were in. You weren’t sure if it was him, or you, but somehow he had shifted in the night so that your chests were pressed flush together.
In his sleepy state, he placed his hand on the back of your head, pressing your face back into his neck where it was positioned - unbeknownst to you.
With your nose touching his skin, you could feel his pulse on the tip of it, slow and steady - like he wasn’t really awake. The smell of his cologne was familiar to you now.
“Josh,” you whispered, tipping your head up until you realized the limited mobility you actually had.
He hummed, and you knew the second he was conscious because his muscles tensed all at once before loosening enough to release you.
“Sorry,” he mumbled as you untangled your legs from his. “I must have really been out.”
“It’s okay, I was too.” You looked up at him with a smile. “We survived the night.”
He hummed through tilted up lips. “That’s good; I would have been really upset if you died in my bed.”
After a moment, you groaned a complaint. “I do not want to get out of bed. I know it’s going to be fucking freezing. If we move out of here, can we go somewhere warm?”
He tilted his head over to meet your eyes with a subtle smirk.
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing,” he replied. You were contemplating pressing further, but he spoke again. “I’m staying home today from school so I can be here when the repairmen come.”
You frowned. “Do you want me to stay instead? Or with you to keep you company?”
“No, I’ll be good. You need to go to school and stay warm.”
You grimaced at him, secretly wishing he had asked you to stay so you didn’t have to get out of bed.
“Okay, you’re sure?”
He laughed at you. “Yes, you should get moving. Feel free to wear any of my warmer clothing.”
You shot him a grateful look before closing your eyes and throwing the blankets off of yourself.
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Stalker X Stalker, Part 5
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Perma tag: @nathleigh
Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever
Marinette listened in on Tim for three days.
Not actively, of course, she didn’t hang onto every word he said. She just let her consciousness drift in and out of the conversations he had while she worked on finishing up the outfit she had designed for Audrey...
And, yeah, she was getting to the point where she was willing to bet on him being an okay guy. Better than okay, even. He was just so… genuine?
The first two days he had come in sick. She knew the signs of working while sick by heart, the trudging around and the groaning and the constant banging your head on the desk when you pass out randomly, and damn she was pretty sure even she wasn’t as bad as him. He probably shouldn’t be working at all, to be honest, he was CEO and there was nothing stopping him from taking the day -- or even just a few hours -- off. But, no, from the sound of it he was drinking ungodly amounts of coffee and calling it okay.
And despite the fact that he seemed absolutely miserable, he hadn’t taken it out on anyone. She had yet to hear him be impolite to anyone, not even the people that worked under him. His secretary had made a scheduling mistake and he had not only assured her it was fine but didn’t even require her to fix it.
Even when he was talking to himself while working he never once said anything questionable. And he talked to himself a lot. It was like a podcast, honestly, just hearing him rattle off numbers and weird business terms she hadn’t learned because she was self-taught. He talked almost constantly and he should have slipped up by now, yet here she was three days later with nothing to show for it except for a whole lot of guilt.
Marinette hadn’t thought much about it on the first day, everyone had their good days from time to time. On the second day she said ‘oh, it’s a coincidence’, but on the third day she had to call it: her paranoia had been a little unfounded.
Literally the worst thing about him so far was that he didn’t seem to care much about his own health… and that wasn’t really a bad thing about him as much as it was a bad thing for him.
So, yeah, it looked like she had no real reason to listen in on him anymore.
… but…
Something about him was nagging at her. He was a nice guy and she’d like to be his friend… it was just that, sometimes, she could swear she recognized his voice.
And it wasn’t like there were a lot of people she knew in America, she knew who he probably was.
Her hand itched towards the tiny device hidden under her window seat. One click (and maybe a little researching) and she’d know for sure who the bats were. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge that, if she did know their real names, she’d accidentally call them by them once and immediately get thrown either into a cell or out of Gotham. She was a meta (kind of), she was already on thin ice. She didn’t need the paranoid idiots that were the bats being more wary of her than they already were.
So, she left it alone.
She kept the bug, though. Mostly just because she wanted to hear it directly from him rather than just guessing by his voice. After all, voices can be similar. If he were to directly talk about bat business while she was listening in, though… that would definitely be a point towards her theory, to say the least.
And, yeah, she knew it was kind of messed up. She could be listening in on some innocent guy for all she knew, but it was… morally kind of okay? The whole thing about stalking is that it makes your victim feel unsafe. If he was Red Robin then he had found the bug and hadn’t felt unsafe enough to remove it and if he was a civilian then he would never know about the bug and therefore couldn’t feel unsafe. Therefore, it wasn’t stalking, not really.
… yeah, that makes sense.
She glanced at her sketchbook and yawned. She really needed to get a new outfit idea soon. Good thing Tim said he was taking her out tomorrow --.
Shit, Tim was taking her out tomorrow.
She jumped up from her spot at the window and ran to her closet. What to wear, what to wear...
Frenchie: where are we going tomorrow
Spiderman: It’s a surprise.
Frenchie: fuck your surprises tim what do i need to wear
She heard his laugh crackle through her earpiece. Rude.
Spiderman: Casual clothes.
Frenchie: there are LEVELS of casual tim
Spiderman: Oh, so we’re breaking out the capital letters. This must be serious.
She scoffed. Of course it was serious.
Frenchie: just tell me what to wear
Spiderman: A t-shirt and jeans is fine.
Kwamis, send her strength. Like she was going to wear a t-shirt and jeans. Did he even know who he was talking to?
But at least she had a gauge on how casual she could go. She picked out a light pink button down and black shorts for herself and then, because she had a little bit of foresight, she added some black tights.
She smiled faintly and dropped back in her bed.
She couldn’t wait to see where he was going to take her.
She found out the next day. Because that’s how things work.
She raised her eyebrows. “There’s no way it’s actually called a ‘space museum’. You’ve gotta be lying.”
Tim shrugged, a grin poking at his lips. “Do you really think I’d make it up?”
“Well, considering your outfit, I’d say you aren’t the most creative of guys so maybe you did,” she teased.
Tim looked down at his outfit and pouted. He was wearing little more than a black turtleneck and pants under a white jacket. “Must you make fun of every outfit I wear?”
“Only the bad ones. Seriously, would it kill you to wear a little bit of color?”
He rolled his eyes. “At least I thought to bring a jacket. It’s thirty degrees!”
She had forgotten that Americans used Fahrenheit, sue her.
Of course, she was never going to admit to this. She stuck her tongue out at him. “Maybe I’m just not a wimp.”
He snickered. “Oh, so you’re not cold?”
“Not at all.”
“Then stop hugging that coffee cup.”
She looked down at the coffee cup that was her only source of warmth and happiness in this cruel world that had two different measuring systems (three if you counted Kelvin). She gripped it tighter. “... no.”
He rolled his eyes again and, after a beat of hesitation, shrugged his jacket off and offered it to her.
Marinette normally wouldn’t give in this easy… but she really was cold and his clothes were far thicker than hers were and she knew that her teeth would start chattering soon which would have been so embarrassing...
So she blushed faintly and slipped the jacket on. It smelled like ungodly expensive cologne. “Thanks.”
He grinned. “I’m taking your coffee as payment.”
“No --!”
~
After dropping by a cafe so Marinette didn’t kill him, Tim took her to the space museum (yes, that actually was what it was called).
He thought she would have missed the night sky. Gotham hardly ever had a clear night due to the thick smog that hung over the city like a curse. And they spent quite a lot of time outside at night, she must have been feeling a little homesick.
So, he rented out the museum for the day. Yes, the whole museum. He was rich and mildly famous and what was the point of that if he wasn’t going to use it to make the people he cared about happy? He doubted she would be able to enjoy the sights as much if people were constantly taking pictures of them and asking about their relationship.
She raised her eyebrows just slightly but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the lack of people.
They slipped through the rooms quietly in search of inspiration.
Many of the rooms were your typical museum things: exhibits showing off different space rocks and explaining stars and supernovas. They didn’t stop much here, obviously, there was little to be inspired by. The most that happened for a long while was Marinette stopping from time to time to take a picture of a nice color that she wanted to try and replicate later.
And then she had stopped to look at a spacesuit. She blinked a few times before breaking into a grin and flipping to a new page in her sketchbook. He could barely make out the name ‘Jagged’ from where he was fiddling with his camera a respectable distance away.
So, Marinette, at least, was having a productive time. Tim was… a little stressed, to be honest.
Tim was having a particularly hard time getting ‘inspired’.
It had been years since he had picked up his camera, which was certainly a problem but it wasn’t the problem.
The problem was that he had never been one to take pictures of locations or objects. Sure, there was the occasional picture of the Gotham skyline, but he had always had a tendency towards taking pictures of people. Batman and Robin working as a team to take out a bunch of thugs, Robin and Nightwing racing each other across the rooftops, Batman and Nightwing stopping for ice cream after a particularly long patrol… and now he wanted to take pictures of Marinette.
But that would be weird because a) the first day he had implied he took pictures of attractions in order to alleviate suspicion about why he just so happened to be on the same rooftop as her and b) she probably wouldn’t think they were close enough for him to take pictures of her.
He kind of wished he could just go back to the old days where his subjects didn’t know he was there and he wouldn’t have to worry about what they would think about him if he took a picture of them.
His fingers itched towards the camera hanging from his neck because she looked so cute with her tongue poking out of her mouth and her orange, yellow, and white colored pencils sticking out from between her fingers like little Wolverine claws and he loved the way his jacket looked on her and --.
“You can stop staring, I’ll be done as fast as I can.”
His brain shorted out and the only response he could come up with was a squeaky: “Sorry?”
She looked up from her work with an awkward smile. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long, I just… if I don’t do it now it’ll slip my mind. I’m working as fast as I can, though.”
He was rebooting. Give him a minute.
Ah, there it was.
Wait, she thought he was being impatient?
“Nononono take your time, it’s fine! I just...”
He trailed off before he could finish the thought because this was the second time they had hung out he couldn’t make things awkward between them already.
… but she was giving him a confused, vaguely concerned, look and he was pretty sure that if he didn’t come up with something soon it would be awkward anyways.
“IwasjustwonderingifIcouldtakeapictureofyou?” He blurted out before he could stop himself again.
She blinked once. Twice. And then a blush spread across her face.
“Oh. Uh… sure?”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said.
“It’s fine. A little sudden but… fine,” she said with a tiny smile.
Tim couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.
Not one to be blushy for long, apparently, Marinette flashed a wink. “Should I call up my friend Adrien for modeling tips or…?”
He rolled his eyes and schooled his face back into his usual grin. “It’s fine, just keep working. I’ll figure out angles and stuff.”
She tipped her head to the side confusedly. “Don’t you need me to be still?”
He didn’t look up from messing with the settings of his camera. “Not at all. You’re probably going to be one of my easier pictures.”
“... thanks…?”
“I do mostly nighttime photography. Capturing things in motion without it blurring requires a --.” He cringed. “Sorry, um… basically, when you want to take photos of things that are moving fast, you need a lot of natural light.”
“... you can talk about it more in depth, if you want.”
He shrugged. “I’d bore you.”
“I like your voice,” she said… then she seemed to realize the implications because she cleared her throat and did her best to backtrack: “In comparison to every other American I’ve heard so far, at least. Why do your accents… sound like that?”
“Ah, yes, because everyone knows that French people have the best accents.”
“Excuse you, I have been told by many people that my accent is actually very nice.”
He grinned. “By whom? Half-drunk men on the street?”
She gasped as if offended. “I get my information from much more reliable sources... like drunk women in bathrooms, thank you very much.”
“I see. My mistake. I apologize.”
“As you should.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Don’t you have a design to make?” She looked down at her sketchbook and a silence stretched between them as she squinted at her design.
“You forgot what you were doing, didn’t you?”
She groaned and rested her head in her hands.
He took a picture of her exasperated pout.
~
Marinette ended up with two outfits.
One was for Jagged, based off of the spacesuit she had seen. She had figured that, with all the songs he wrote about being free, there was bound to be one about how he ‘finally had his own space’. It was good to be prepared.
The other was for Cassandra Wayne. Marinette hadn’t thought much about it, to be honest. She just knew that Cassandra liked the color black with designs on top of it, and that the planetarium had a nice star pattern that would work for that. It would be super expensive, what with all the gems she would need, but it wasn’t like the Waynes couldn’t afford it.
… and then she looked up to see Tim pouting.
She giggled, resting her head on her hand. “What?”
“My sister is getting a dress and I’m not.”
Oh, so he was an actual fan. Interesting.
She brushed that conversation aside in favor of teasing him: “You want a dress?”
“Yes! No? Yes? I --.” He huffed and took a seat in the chair next to her. “I have faith anything you make will look nice.”
She felt a blush rise to her face and she rolled her eyes. “Hm. Telling the person in charge of your wardrobe ‘I have full faith in you’ is a terrible idea.”
“Oh? I don’t think you, in good conscience, can make and give me anything bad.”
She squinted at him for a minute before breaking into a grin. “Wanna bet?”
He leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing her for a few moments, before smirking. “Sure, how about we put five thousand on it?”
She choked. She’d forgotten he was rich rich.
She was quick to backtrack: “Nah. With all your fashion choices so far I can’t trust you not to wear it to some Gala or whatever it is you rich people do.”
“Damn, there goes that plan.”
She grinned and looked down at her sketchbook. After a few seconds she flipped to a new page. She squinted at his outfit for a few moments before starting to doodle something.
“What’re you making now?”
“I’m making you something with some color.”
He huffed. “Excuse you, I’m a goth in a family of goths. I can’t wear color.”
“Yeah, yeah. Trust me, I know. I’d say Richard is the black sheep of the family in that aspect but he’s the one wearing color.”
He laughed a little. “So Dick is the white sheep, then?”
“Yea --.” She stopped and then squinted over at him. “Dick?”
“It’s what he insists everyone calls him.”
She looked down at her sketchbook for a moment, processing, and then shook her head. “Your brother has a degradation kink.”
Tim brought his hand to his mouth in stunned silence before pulling his phone from his pocket and definitely not informing the family group chat of his discovery.
She snickered and went to work on the outfit again. It was a simple one, because she didn’t want to go too far out of his comfort zone, but there was no way she was going to be friends with a monochromatic idiot.
She leaned over until her head rested on his shoulder. He tensed up just a little before resting his head on top of hers.
~
When she had finished he took a picture of the planetarium to keep up pretenses and they had made their leave.
… but first, they stopped by the gift shop. Because why not?
Tim could have bought everything there for Marinette -- and probably would have, if asked -- but, considering she had freaked out about five thousand dollars earlier, he figured maybe he should keep that more or less quiet.
Instead, he followed her around while idly bouncing a Saturn shaped bouncy ball. It was a terrible shape for a bouncy ball and he kind of loved it, to be honest. Not to mention the little smile Marinette made behind her hand every time the ball would try another mad dash for freedom was pretty cute.
And then they hit the t-shirt section. And her lips twitched as she reached out and picked up a bright blue shirt that said ‘May the F=MA be with you’ in white text.
“It’s awful. It’s perfect.”
He grinned. “Wow, look at you. You know one of the simplest physics formulas by heart, aren’t you smart?” He joked.
She bowed. “I know, I know.”
He held out a hand for it and she stared at him for a few seconds in confusion.
“I’ll hold it until we get to the front desk.”
She squinted at him. “I’m paying for my own shirt.”
“I can afford it,” he said with a sigh.
“So can I.”
“Either you let me pay for it or I’ll keep track of everything you buy while with me and add it to your commissions.”
“... either you let me pay for it or I’ll never make an outfit for you ever again. I know your measurements and style, Timothy, you won’t be able to get past me.”
They narrowed their eyes at each other, daring each other to call their bluffs…
And then his shoulders sagged. “Fine.”
He’d just have to use his connections to lower prices on fabrics for her. Did he mention that he was rich and mildly famous? Yeah. It was pretty cool.
~
She smiled as she leaned against the doorframe to her apartment. “Thanks for taking me out. It was fun.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled back. She was determinedly ignoring the way his smile made little butterflies flutter in her stomach. She patently hated butterflies. They weren’t allowed.
“I had fun, too. Want to do it again, sometime?”
“... sure, I guess you passed my test.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Your test?”
“Oh, yeah.” She waved him off. “If you had made any creepy comments today I would have blocked you.”
He seemed a little relieved by this information, though she wasn’t quite sure why. “That’s a pretty good test to have in Gotham.”
“I know, I’m pretty smart,” she said jokingly.
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
Damn it, now she was blushing. Shit.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you flatter every girl you take to the space museum? Is this your strategy?”
He snickered. “Well, considering you’re the only girl I’ve taken, I’m going to have to say yes.”
She hummed. “I’m glad I’m so special to you, because that means you won’t drop me when I never give you this jacket back.”
He huffed. “You can’t just do that.”
“I can and will,” she teased. Then, because she wasn’t a completely cruel person, she reached up to her coatrack and pulled down a red scarf for him. “Here, take this so it’s more of a trade than stealing.”
“If I don’t?”
“Then you get to walk back to your house in the cold like that.”
He snorted. “What happened to not wanting to steal?”
“At least I offered!”
He rolled his eyes and leaned down so she could wrap the scarf around his neck.
She looked up at him, a blush spreading across her face, and then carefully draped it over his shoulders. “There. Now you have a splash of color.”
He smiled at her. “Ah, I see, this was all just a plot to get me to wear colors. It all makes sense now.”
“Of course.” She tugged him down more by the scarf to press a kiss to his nose. “You should wear red and black more often. They’re totally your colors.”
He smiled a little dopily. “You have no idea.”
She pushed his face away. “Weirdo. Go be cryptic somewhere else.”
“Fine, fine. See you in a few days.”
“See you then.”
~~~
Bonus Batfam group chat stuff
Timtamalam: What if Dick makes everyone call him that because he has a degradation kink?
LetMeLeaveTheChat: i fucking hate this family.
BloodSon: This is exactly the kind of lowbrow humor to be expected of you, Drake.
Timtamalam: I’m unappreciated in my time.
CAss: :0
Timtamalam: See, this is why Cass is the favorite.
YouDontSeeMe: DickJoke please respond
DickJoke: I raised each and every one of you and this is the thanks I get
LetMeLeaveTheChat: sucks to suck, dickwad.
DickJoke: That’s it when I get through all this dumb Heartless stuff I’m coming back to the manor and we’re all going to have family time
CAss: :(
ItsEggplantNotPurple: damn it
YouDontSeeMe: crap
LetMeLeaveTheChat: fuck. and an extra “fuck” on duke’s behalf.
BloodSon: Look at what you have done, Drake.
Timtamalam: Sorry guys.
81 notes · View notes
Text
All My Midnights With You (c.h)
Pairing: Calum Hood X doctor! Reader
Summary: How many midnights can you spend with a stranger? Or Four times you see Calum at a New Year’s Party and one time he didn’t.
Warnings: Fluff with a little bit of angst. Implied sexual relations. Mentions of surgery, hospital rooms and vomit. Mentions of alcohol. Language. Some grammatical mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)
Word count: 6.9 k
Author’s Note: So, i had to make a NYE fic with Cal after all the angst i threw the past few weeks, and I’ve been working on it for weeks now and I’m finally satisfied with it! Please remember that Reblogs, comments and feedback are more than welcome and encouraged! I really love to hear from you guys ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy reading 🦋💕🌻
Also Ps: I made the reader a doctor cause I was watching way more episodes than I should of Greys anatomy and I figured it made sense in the plot
My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?
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Picture taken from Pinterest
One.
The party was loud. It’s not like you mind at all, you knew parties should be like that, it’s just that you’re not used to them anymore. But now, your residency was over and you could enjoy a little break from the neon white lights. You knew no one there besides your best friend, who quickly disappeared from your side to grab yourselves something to drink, leaving you alone amid people with funky hats and numbered glasses.
You didn’t mind, you knew their job as a radio host required them to be more social and if your hospital life taught you something is to know how to navigate through different environments with confidence, you were fine with watching people run around for fun for a change, drinks in their hands and hope in their eyes for the New Year.
You were standing at a corner of the room with your eyes wandering around the room, trying to find your friend amongst the sea of people. That was the first time you saw him.
Tall, with a black button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves that displayed tattooed arms with various designs you couldn't figure out at a distance, head filled with black curls that were positioned in the most perfect way to make it seem like he didn’t put an effort on it at all, which you knew it must be a lie. His profile was immaculate, you thought since at a distance he looked like he could be sculpted from marble, especially when he smiled and his cheeks took over most of his face. His style wasn’t bad either, although you wouldn't go with a completely black outfit, you must admit that it suited him. At this point, you know you’ve been staring for quite some time, definitely more than it was allowed before it became creepy, but you couldn’t help it. He was beautiful in every single way.
Your friend came back a few minutes later, a drink in each hand to share with you. You thanked them as you quickly pulled your eyes from the stranger, starting a new conversation almost right away, hoping that the blush on your cheeks could disappear.
What you missed, though, was that handsome stranger looking back at you for a moment.
He didn’t notice your previous stare, but you can say that he was curious about the new face that just showed up at his friend’s party. Although he didn't linger on too much as he was quickly swayed away by his friends in different conversations, his eyes met yours from time to time and he could almost swear he saw you blush every time they did.
The party went by without a hitch. It was closer to midnight when the host, a tall man with curly dirty blond hair and the deepest dimples you’ve ever seen, stood in the middle of the room to announce the countdown.
People started to gather around the living room, making their way into the front and looking for someone to share the first kiss of the year, pushing you away from your friend while doing so. In a matter of seconds, you got lost in the sea of people again, you tried to push your way up to your friend again but it was almost useless. With a little huff, you turned around and knocked someone’s drink over.
“Oh my god,” You said, hiding your face in complete embarrassment “I am so sorry! I didn’t look where I was going, I-”
The man chuckled “It’s okay, sweetheart. It was a shit drink anyway”
You looked up and the sight in front of your eyes almost knocked you over. It was the same guy you were crushing on the whole night.
It was almost pathetic the way you seemed to lose all kinds of speech as you looked into his eyes. If you thought he was beautiful before, then you are sure he is breathtaking standing up close.
His brown eyes had such intensity it was impossible to look away, it was almost as he had locked you down with just a stare, and that’s without mentioning his smile. You couldn’t have noticed before, but his smile made his whole face shine, blinding you as you tried to find any kind of compliment that would fit him perfectly. How could someone have the perfect smile?
He chuckled again and you noticed that you were staring waaaay too long for it to be normal. You looked away and started fidgeting with your hands, how come you can perform surgeries and talk to other doctors and patients normally but you are at a loss of words when it comes to a cute guy?!
You were about to say something, anything to make the awkwardness of it all fade away. But the voices coming from the living room interrupted your train of thoughts again. You both looked at the crowd of people gathered a few meters away, they were all staring at the countdown on the TV as they cheered for the New Year to come.
“10, 9, 8,” They sang “5, 4, 3, 2, 1…”
And as the cheer of “Happy New Year” came, you felt two calloused hands cup your cheek and pull your face in another direction.
It was almost instantly when you felt the soft lips of that stranger on yours. The initial shock made you pull back a little before kissing him back. It was soft, sweet, and innocent, yet neither of you wanted to pull away first.
You brought your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you and his hands flew to hold your waist, still in awe of how perfectly your lips melted against his, almost like they were made for each other from the start.
But everything has an end and you both need to breathe. And, when you looked into his eyes again you knew he felt it too. There was something you couldn’t deny, call it chemistry or spark or fate, but that kiss felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
“Woah…” He whispered after pulling away, hands still on your waist as he tried to find an explanation for what just happened “I-”
“Calum!” Someone yelled, making both your heads snap towards an even taller guy with curly hair, seriously, where do you get these people?!
The stranger - whose name was Calum, apparently - let go of your waist as his drunk friend came over “Luke!” He said with a smile, but his eyes told another story. Was he annoyed at his friend for interrupting what was happening?
But Luke didn’t notice that, he just came over and rounded his arms around Calum’s shoulders, wishing him a happy new year and slowly walking him towards the crowd of people who were waiting for him.
You stood there shocked, not knowing what to do or what just happened. But you did notice the way he looked at you, an apology plastered into his face as he was dragged into the sea of people where you lost him once again for the rest of the night.
Two.
Another year, another party.
This time though, your friend didn’t need you to drag you out of the house like they always did because you happily agreed to attend. You told yourself it was because you needed a break from the emergency room, but if you were completely honest, it was because of the hope of seeing him again.
You haven’t seen or heard about Calum since that night at the beginning of the year. Of course, you knew you wouldn’t, you never exchanged numbers nor introduced yourselves properly and your friend told you that they didn’t know him well enough to try to hook you up and that might seem unprofessional on their part, which was right. You told yourself that it was fine and probably for the best since you started getting busier with your job, so you moved on.
Yet, that kiss still lingers on the back of your head. Yes, you went on dates and kissed other people too, but that kiss was something else and you knew he knew it too.
Subconsciously you hoped for him to remember you, to think about that kiss as often as you did. You knew it was a long shot, an almost impossible dream that could only come true in movies or cliche storybooks. After all, you were one of many people he knew and he didn’t even talk to you for more than 3 minutes! One of which you spent in awkward silence and the other you spent kissing.
And even then, your heart dared to hope.
You arrived somewhat early since your friend told you they might be a little bit late so you could ahead and meet them there. And, luckily for you, you didn’t have to go that far into the party to find a familiar face. It just so happens that this familiar face was the same face that overtook your dreams for the past year.
He looked different this time, his hair was much shorter but still held onto the curls that distinguished him from the others. He was not wearing black this time as he chose a simple outfit of jeans and a button-up white shirt with the first few buttons open enough to expose his chest and a feather tattoo that you haven’t noticed before. He was laughing along to what his friend said, sipping on his beer every few moments. You didn’t think he noticed you, but your heart skipped a beat when he looked your way and smiled.
You thought about going in and say hi, maybe even introducing yourself in the hopes that he would remember you, but you needed some liquid courage before even attempting to speak again. So instead of walking towards him, you found yourself making a B-line to the kitchen.
The kitchen wasn’t as crowded as you thought it would be, a few people here and there but they were minding their own business, something you were thankful for because you didn’t know what had come over you. You cursed under your breath, you just made a fool out of yourself! He might think you are a stalker or-
“Didn’t think of saying hello?” A voice called next to you.
You stopped the thoughts running in your head as you looked to the side, almost spilling your drink when you found the eyes you were dreaming of for over a year staring back at you.
He was smiling, a hint of tease shined on his eyes as he laid against the counter. He was still just as handsome but, weirdly enough, it wasn’t as intimidating as before. You could almost say you felt somewhat safe around him, comfortable even.
You smiled at him just the same, your sudden fear of talking to him quickly faded away. You already shared a kiss, how bad of a conversation could it be?
“Why would I say hello when we didn’t even say goodbye?” You teased, making him laugh.
If you thought his smile was beautiful, nothing prepared you for his laugh.
“Touché,” He said, extending his hand towards you “I’m Calum, by the way. Calum Hood”
You shook his hand as well “Nice to meet you, Calum. I’m Y/N”
“Pretty name for a little pretty thing like you” You laughed “I can’t believe it took us a year to finally meet. Are you an Angel or something? So you only show up when needed?”
“Are you always this charming or am I just lucky?” And that was the start of the evening.
You talked the whole night. You found out that he is the bassist of a rather famous band, he teased you about never hearing of them before and you told him that your job didn’t give you enough time to listen to music that wasn't in an elevator. When you told him that you were a doctor, he completely changed the conversation towards you, asking you questions and really getting into it as you explained to him the weirdest things you saw in the ER.
The more and more you talked you knew he was special. He made you laugh and was interested in what you had to say. He answered all your questions and talked about his family and how much he misses them around this time and it surprised you how intelligent and connected he was with his emotions. The deeper you went into the conversation, the more hooked you got.
“I’m sorry I left last year,” He said after a while. You were both standing outside in the garden as the commotion of the party became too much for both of you. So you just talked while staring at the big dark sky above you.
“Don’t be” You reassured him “We didn’t know each other and I’m surprised you remembered me at all” You laughed, but Calum didn’t follow.
“I don’t think I could forget you,” He said in a serious tone, making you turn to look at him to see if he was joking. By his face, you could tell he wasn't “I asked Ashton about you like a bunch of times, but I don’t think he even knew you were here… he’s a great host, don’t get me wrong, he just sucks on making the guest lists small enough to remember all the plus ones” He chuckled.
“You asked about me?”
“I had to know who my midnight kisser was,” He shrugged. “Almost thought I was drunk dreaming or something until I saw you enter the house tonight. I was so glad you remembered me and you didn’t think I was just a creep in the kitchen”
You both laughed this time “Well, lucky for you, I couldn't forget you either, even if I tried”
Calum chuckled as he stepped closer to you, his nose almost touching yours. One step closer and you would be in the same position you were a year before, only this time you were both sure you wanted this.
“And what about tonight?” Calum asked as one of his hands rounded your waist, making your breath hitch “Would you forget about tonight?”
You looked into his eyes, but he had his gaze fixed on your lips, waiting for just one word from you to feel them pressed against his again. You felt your soul leave your body as you realized how much you wanted this.
“I-I guess we’ll have to wait until midnight to find that out” You whispered, and, just as you said that, a thousand lights illuminated the night sky in the far distance.
You pulled away when you heard the first firework, staring in awe while Calum took his phone out of his pocket and started giggling. He showed you the time and it was in fact midnight of the New Year. You couldn’t believe your eyes.
“You timed that shit, didn’t you?” You laughed, but your voice soon drowned out as he cupped your cheek like he did last year and pulled you closer to him.
“If I told you I didn't, would you still want to kiss me?” He asked. You answered him by crashing your lips into his.
The fireworks went off in the sky and around your head, that’s the effect Calum had on you. The kiss was much different from last year’s, this one was more passionate, more mature as you both knew what you were doing. It had a different meaning now that you started to get to know one another, and you hoped you would continue to do so once the kiss was over and midnight came to pass.
You were glad to know that the spark was still there, this time even brighter than ever as he deepened the kiss a few moments later. You knew it was way too soon to think about love, but when you thought about kissing Calum, you hoped it could go on forever and ever.
This time, he pulled away first “You feel it too, right?” He asked in a breath as he held you closer.
You wanted to say yes, to scream it even. You knew about “the kiss” every single romantic movie talks about, the one everyone dreams to have at least once, and you knew this was it. Yet, all you could do was nod.
He brought your face close to him again, ready to seal your lips together one more time… you could guess what happened next.
“For fuck’s sake” Calum murmured as he heard the backdoor opening and his name being called out by one of his bandmates, Michael, you guessed since he was the only one you didn’t know already.
You could tell he was about to cuss Michael for his interruption, but you were quicker.
“Hey, it’s okay” You reassured him “You have people to see and I need to make myself a drink anyways”
Calum smiled at you, thanking you for understanding but still wishing he could stay with you a little longer, all night if it was necessary. He was about to say something when Michael called his name again. This time, Calum flipped him off.
“I’ll find you later, okay?” He said, pressing a small kiss to your lips before disappearing into the house again.
You followed him after a while and went directly into the kitchen to make yourself another drink. The smile you wore grew bigger every time you thought about the kiss and how it was almost ten times better than the first one.
Your mind started wandering towards a future where you could kiss Calum every time you wanted, where you could share evenings and go on dates and travel the world… You found yourself not minding that at all.
But before your fantasies could go any further, your friend came running towards you “There you are!” They said, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We need to go”
“W-what, why?!”
“The host is gone and they are kicking everyone out” They said with a shrug “His band also took off”
Calum left? Without saying goodbye again? “Where did they go?”
“From what I heard, their management asked them to go and perform some songs in a party downtown, apparently one of the bands who were going to perform originally couldn’t make it and they were called in replacement”
Okay, you couldn't get mad at that, it was his job after all and it was an emergency he couldn’t help. Still, the disappointment of not being able to see each other again tonight stung like a bee.
As you were waiting for the Uber outside of Ashton’s house, your friend asked “Hey, found your mystery kisser?” They liked to refer to Calum like that, even though they knew who he was.
You smiled “Yeah…”
“Got his number this time, right?”
Oh shit.
Three.
You were late. You were soooo late and you hated that.
Well, it’s not exactly your fault, the patient in room 304 started vomiting all around and it wasn’t his fault either that he needed to go into surgery right after (successfully if I may add) At least your job gives you good excuses.
You just hoped it wasn’t too late and that Calum would still be there.
Another year has passed and you haven’t seen each other at all since that last night in January. You knew that he was touring all year round with his band, at least you knew he was happy doing what he loved. You also tried to contact him through social media, the only problem was that you weren’t the only one and your message probably got lost between the thousands and thousands he got every day. So you spent yet another year thinking of him and dreaming about the kiss that you two shared.
This night, if everything goes right, you would change that. You wouldn’t disappear without at least giving him your number, if he still wanted it, of course. And you wouldn’t disappear without telling him how you feel.
Decidedly, you open the doors to Ashton’s house, and, just as fate’s decided, the first face you see is him.
Calum spotted you immediately, almost like he was waiting for you, and his face softened the instant he realized you were finally there. He wasted no time in walking towards the door and grabbing your hand to pull you upstairs. You didn’t even have the chance to say anything as he opened one of the doors and pulled you inside, locking it and pushing you against the door, pressing his lips on yours.
And there it was again: fireworks.
You placed your hands over his chest as you got lost inside your kiss, it felt just as good as you remembered, better even. You wondered if every time you kissed was going to be like that: utterly magical.
“It’s not midnight yet” You laughed when you pulled away to breathe. Calum chuckled.
“I don’t care,” He said with a raspy, needy voice, pressing kisses along your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your lips “I can’t wait until midnight and deal with the fear of having to leave again”
“Well, aren’t you quite the Cinderella?” You teased, making you both laugh “Are-are we really in a closet right now?” You said, taking in your surroundings in the dimmed light.
“I-.. yes” You burst out laughing again “I wanted some privacy and I thought this was the guest room!”
You silenced him with another kiss, this time sweeter than the previous one “Well, I think is cute”
Calum sighed “I’m tired of both of us not making it after midnight, I don’t think I want another year without seeing you again,” He said, stroking your face with the back of his hand.
“So, what’s the plan?”
He smiled “First, we get out of here” You grabbed his hand and nodded.
You let Calum lead the way, not just to get out of the closet, but also to get out of the house and the party completely. He took you to his car and told you to hop in.
“You are not going to murder me, aren’t you? I have house plants to take care of” He laughed.
“No, that’s the plan for Valentine’s Day” Calum teased and your heart fluttered at the thought of spending Valentine's day with him. Has he really thought about you that way as well?
He jumped in the car and started driving you around the city and through the coast as you talked about everything and anything at the same time. You catch up on your lives as you ate some MacDonalds’ you picked up on your way and you sang your lungs out to the tunes that came out on the radio to celebrate yet another year gone.
You swore you couldn’t be happier and you smiled knowing Calum felt the same.
“..And that’s why I was late today” You laugh.
“I would’ve waited for you the whole night through. But I will admit I thought you’ve given up on me” Calum said, holding your hand while turning around a street you were unfamiliar with “I wouldn't blame you if you did. But I really wanted to see you tonight”
You tugged on his hand “I told you I wouldn’t forget about you even if I tried” He smiled at that.
A few minutes later he parked his car in front of a house “It’s almost midnight” He said, unbuckling his seatbelt “And I thought that maybe this time we can spend it where no one would interrupt” You could tell that he was a bit embarrassed, but the thought of it was really sweet and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want this too.
“So this is your home,” You said as a matter of factly. Calum nodded “Then lead the way, Cal”
Once inside, he poured you a glass of wine and you sat in the living room and kept talking till midnight came around. When the clock struck 12, you were already lost in Calum’s eyes. There was something hypnotic about them that you can’t quite figure out, but also don’t want to. It was a beautiful mystery and you rather that it stayed that way.
“You won’t disappear after midnight?” You asked, face inches away from him.
“I don’t plan on going anywhere, baby,” He said as he closed the gap between the two of you.
This time there was no rush, no firework spectacle in the sky nor noisy friends who could ruin the moment you both had been waiting for an entire year. The kiss held the same passion as the ones that came before, yet you could sense in the way he moved that there was something more in this kiss, a need that only the two of you could satisfy.
“Why does every time I kiss you feel like the first time?” He asked, hands circling your waist and pulling you over his lap in a quick movement as his mouth traveled along your jaw and down your neck “Do you still remember that first time?”
You smiled, hands tangling in his curls as he left a trail of open kisses from your ear to your collarbone “I remember” You said as a breathy moan leaves your lips “I had a huge crush on you since the first time that I saw you” You confess.
Calum hums “Good thing then,” He hovered his lips over yours, gripping your hips as you started moving against him “Cause I had a crush on you since I saw you looking at me across the room”
You brought your hand to cup his cheek and kissed him as your life depended on it. This was nothing like that first kiss you shared, this was needy, dirty, sloppy… The innocence of it all crumbled away as you started to grind on him even harder than before and moaning into his ear.
Calum held your hips as he felt you press against his growing, groaning as you picked up the pace “Is this okay?” He asked, looking into your eyes for reassurance “We can stop if you want, I-”
“Calum,” You said, stopping your movements altogether, “I want this. I want you”
Next thing you know, he was kissing you again, lifting you, and carrying you to his room.
*
You don’t know what time it is when your phone starts ringing. You just know it’s either very late or super early. You untangled yourself from Calum who had his arm around your waist as he pulled you closer while you slept. The curly-haired man mumbled something unintelligible before turning around and going back to bed. You smiled at the sight, if you weren’t in love before then you sure are now.
The phone kept ringing, so you put on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt you assumed belonged to Calum and went downstairs where you left your phone.
“Hello?” You said as you picked it up.
“Dr. L/N? It’s Lou, from the hospital. I was assigned to Mr. Minkus-” A panicked voice said.
You froze when you remembered the patient from earlier, the one who needed an emergency surgery “Is everything okay?”
“He went into cardiac arrest a few minutes ago but we managed to control it. But he is still very weak and needs surgery right now before he-”
“I’m on my way”
You ran into Calum’s room without making much noise. You changed into your clothes and called an Uber. You hated to do it when he was still sound asleep in his bed, but people needed you and you needed to go, he will surely understand.
As the Uber parked outside, you almost forgot to leave him a note, so you scrabbled your number and your name in a random piece of paper, telling him to call you so you could explain everything when he woke up and placed it in the pocket of the jacket he wore the night before, since it was the only thing close to the door at that moment, hoping he won’t be mad when he calls.
So you slipped in your shoes and left. Leaving the man you were surely falling in love with, sleeping safe and soundly on his bed.
Four.
You were at another party at Ashton’s house and this time you were alone.
Calum was standing a few meters away from you with his hands around another’s waist.
“This is the reason,” You thought as you watched him give his significant other a kiss on the cheek “This is the reason he never called or texted after you had sex”
You felt used. Worse than trash itself as you realized he used you for a night’s only fun.
You shouldn’t even feel bad, you barely knew him after all. But why does it hurt so bad?
A year ago you thought you might love him and that he might love you… guess not.
Calum caught your eye after a while, they seem sad. Why? He is the one holding another person in his arms on New Year’s Eve.
And you are on your own. That’s what you get for believing in fairy tales.
He is still staring when you turn around to leave.
You are not waiting until midnight this year.
Five.
Calum is staring at the door like a guard dog. He doesn’t know why he is waiting for you to come around this year, after all, you were the one who left him on New Year’s day almost two years ago. He shouldn’t be waiting for you and yet, he does.
He was mad at first. Furious even, when he woke up the next day and you were gone. Not even a single word for him to find comfort with. He knew he was in love with you from the first moment he saw you and then… you left. He knew he deserved it after the times he had to leave unexpectedly, but he was still heartbroken.
The boys tried to help him, setting him up on dates that meant nothing to him. Nothing like you, at least. Their kisses didn’t light up a flame inside of him, nor made him feel like the king of the world just by laying beside them. No, that was something only you could do.
He tried to start a new relationship by the New Year, yet that came crashing down quickly after a few weeks into January. He still remembered the way you looked that night, the way your eyes filled with tears as you walked away again. He knows he should've felt something in the lines of pride or comfort or even happiness to show you that he could move on without you, but all that he felt was the tugging on his heartstrings when he saw you in pain.
So, maybe that is why he is waiting for you now. He needs to see you again, just one more time and then he’ll know what to do. He will either let go or hold on to you, whatever you give him he will take. But it’s getting late and you are nowhere to be seen.
The fear of you not showing up takes him by surprise. You might as well be at home, or at somebody else’s party wrapped in someone else’s arms for all he knows. He might’ve lost you but.. who lost who first? How could anyone be winning when all he feels is an emptiness at the possibility of not seeing you again? Even though you left him and not the other way around, he is still looking for you.
A loud thud and a scream came near the living room and shook him from his thoughts. Calum got up to his feet as people started yelling for an ambulance. He ran as fast as he could and found Ashton laying on the floor with his foot twisted to the side… it did not look good.
“Mate, what the fuck?” He asked shocked, he knew nothing about ankles and their anatomies, but it was obvious they weren’t supposed to look like that.
“I fell down the stairs and I think I broke something” Ashton hissed in pain “Have you been drinking?” He asked Calum who shook his head, already knowing the next question.
“Come, I’ll take you to the hospital”
They left Luke in charge of the party as they headed towards the nearest hospital they could find. Calum silently lamented not being there anymore in case you showed up, but he wasn’t going to let his best friend stay in a hospital room alone, especially on New Year's Eve.
Once they reached the emergency room, the nurses put Ashton in a wheelchair and took him for examination. A few minutes later he was back and now they moved him to a little bed in the corner of the room as they waited for the doctor to come by.
“I’m sorry I took you away from meeting Y/N again,” Said Ashton after a while.
Calum shook his head “Don’t be. Maybe we weren’t meant to happen after all”
But Calum knew that wasn’t true. He was a big believer in fate and that everything happened for a reason. He knew that seeing you every New Year’s Eve and sharing that kiss with you at midnight had to mean something, it couldn’t just be coincidences without a motive, a reason for that to keep happening. Yet, this would be the second year he has to spend midnight without you by his side. Maybe fate was trying to tell him something he just didn’t want to accept just yet.
And just as that thought came running through his head, the doctor opened the curtain that gave a little privacy to Ashton’s little corner. Calum almost loses his breath for a minute.
“Okay, Mr. Irwin it looks like- oh shit” You looked up from your tablet with the medical records and almost dropped it when you found Calum sitting in front of you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
You just stare at each other for a few seconds, everything else faded away. Calum thought you looked different with your white coat and your standard uniform, yet none of that made you less breathtaking than you already were, it made you even more beautiful to his eyes.
At first, you thought it was some kind of prank. You changed shifts to work in New Year so that you won’t see his face and here he is. At your job. Next to his friend with a broken ankle.
You cleared your throat and looked away, suddenly finding Ashton’s foot a lot more interesting than it really was.
“Sorry. Looks like you broke your ankle, nothing too serious but you will have to put on a cast so it heals quicker” You didn’t look at Calum, you couldn’t “The ortho specialist will be here shortly. I’m just here to making sure the meds are working fine and that nothing else hurts”
Ashton smiled at you, it was supposed to be comforting but you saw a glimpse of teasing in them, oh this must be so funny to him “Thanks Doc”
You smiled at him and shook your head, eyes drifting towards Calum for just one second before saying “It’s not a problem, Happy New Year” and walking away.
The thoughts were running through your mind like the roadrunner. You did everything you could to avoid meeting him tonight and he still makes an appearance. Unbelievable.
You didn’t even make it five steps before Calum ran up to you “Y/N! Wait”
“I’m at work, Calum” You hissed, not turning around to face him just yet
“Yet we are your only patients” It was true, surprisingly enough, the ER has never been so quiet before. Even the nurses went to hide behind a desk to wait for midnight and drink alcohol-free cider.
You sighed tiredly, you didn’t want to play this game anymore. You slowly turned around and placed your tablet on the empty desk “What do you want from me, Cal? What do you want me to say?”
“Maybe start by saying why you left that morning without telling me?” His eyes were fixed on you, yet they weren’t angry or disappointed. They were expectant, curious about what you were going to say. He knew that this was it, the hold on or let go conversation, and how he hoped to hold on.
You, on the other hand, looked at him like he was crazy “Without saying anything? Calum I left you a note! I had an emergency surgery to attend, I explained it all there and I even left you my number! You were the one who never called and then showed up with a date the next year. How do you think that made me feel, you idiot?!”
“What note? There was no note!” He asked, clearly confused about this new information.
You groaned with exasperation, how can he be so dense? “In your coat, Calum! I left it in the pocket of the blue coat you wore that night, I couldn’t find anywhere else to put it as I was heading out”
Calum stayed silent, trying to remember the exact coat you were talking about. And, in a flash, it all came back to him. He was an idiot.
He covered his face with the palm of his hand, mortified for what he was about to say “I washed the coat the next day as it got stains of food in it” He said with a groan “I found a piece of paper in the coat after I washed it, it was destroyed and I thought it was the receipt of the food from the night before”
You stared at Calum for a moment before bursting out laughing.
Calum, on the other hand, didn’t find it as amusing as you. But the more he thought about it the more ridiculous it sounded, so he soon joined you in a fit of giggles.
All of the hurt you both endured, the pain and the heartbreak… it was all for a misunderstanding caused by detergent?
“Oh my god,” You said as you tried to catch your breath, “I thought you were done with me after we-”
“I thought you were done with me!” He replied, both of you coming down from your highs.
“Calum, I could never. I told you I would never, not even if I tried” You said with a sigh “But seeing you with another after that... “
“It meant nothing,” He assured, walking up closer to you “I admit I tried to get over you cause I didn’t know what else to do. I was falling in love with you and then you disappeared without a trace. I was so angry. But as soon as I saw you that night I knew I could never be over you, even if what we have only last until midnight”
You chuckled “We can never win past that point, can we?”
“We can try,” He said, his arm around your waist and he pulled you closer “I want to try, Y/N. I assure you I cannot make it another year without at least going on a date with you. If you let me, of course. Cause I think we’ll be pretty good together, don’t you think?”
“I think we will. As long as you check your pockets before throwing something at the washer. Cause I was falling for you too, and I don’t think I ever stopped” You threw your arms around his neck, pulling your face closer to his. You missed him like this.
You missed all of him, really. You don’t know exactly what it is that draws you to him, why after all this time of meeting once a year you feel like you knew him since forever. It was new but at the same time so familiar. You know it should scare you, but you feel safer than ever wrapped around his arms “Is it midnight yet?”
Calum shook his head and pointed to the clock upon the wall. Ten seconds.
“Nine, eight, seven…”
“Six, five, Four, three, two..”
“One.” You both said in unison as your lips met again. The kiss that you awaited all year long was finally here and it was full of promise. The promise of a future together, of security and love.
You were sure it could not be a coincidence that every year you spend it by his side, that from the moment you met, no other thought has filled your head. Every piece of you seemed to be molded perfectly to fit him and vice versa. The connection was too strong to ignore and, if you believed in soulmates, then there was no doubt Calum was yours. After all, you went through to meet every year, you knew it must be fate that brought you two together, that and a broken ankle.
Speaking of that…
“HAPPY NEW YEAR” Came Ashton’s loud voice from the corner of the room. Making you both break away from the kiss to laugh.
“He just had to keep up with the tradition of interrupting us,” Calum laughed.
“Please tell me you didn’t push him down the stairs to come and see me” You giggled as you took his hand in yours and walked up to Ashton to keep him company.
“I would’ve thrown myself from the stairs if it meant I would get to see you, darling”
That night you finally gave him your number and planned a date for the next day. But not even five minutes after they were gone, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.
“Hello?”
“I had to make sure!” You laughed as you heard Calum’s voice through the speaker.
“See you tomorrow, Cal?”
“And for all the days and years to come, baby”
Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @mystic-232
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nikki-writes-stuff · 4 years
Text
At the Edge of the Woods (Werewolf!Steve x Reader)
Summary: When you move into a cottage on the edge of the forest, you’re ready to start a new life in a new, quiet town. But when you attract the attention of Steve Rogers, a man who everyone in town seems to dislike and fear, your world is turned upside down after he decides that you belong to him. 
Pairing: Werewolf/Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader
Read part two here! 
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A/N: Hey, guys! So a couple warnings about this one: it contains stalking, a/b/o dynamics, non-con, dub-con, breeding kink, and a whole lotta sin. Also, this is my first time writing anything with alpha/omega stuff in it, so be kind! And let me know if you liked it or if there’s anything I need to work on when writing about this sorta thing. Thank you so much, and enjoy!
It was love at first sight. From the moment you laid eyes on the cottage, you knew it would become your home. The thing was tiny, barely any bigger than a shack, and it was a good fifteen minutes’ drive from the nearest sign of civilization. But you didn’t care; you were enamored with the thick layer of ivy that had overtaken the western wall of the structure, and there were huge bushes of honeysuckle growing along the edge of the forest just a few feet from the backdoor.
And when your real estate agent told you the price of the property, the deal was immediately sealed.
“You’re kidding,” you’d deadpanned. “That’s all?”
“Yep,” she’d grinned, clutching her binder of properties tight against her chest. “Quite the bargain, huh?”
“I mean… Yeah,” you’d laughed. “It must be too good to be true. What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, structurally,” she began, “The plumbing is on the older side of things, but it passed inspection. Same goes for the heating and air conditioning. There’s been a bit of a rodent problem in the past, but the appraiser said that a few mouse traps should do the trick to take care of that.”
Her smile had fallen at that point, though, and she shifted on her feet as she considered her next words.
“What is it?” you’d prompted.
“Well… The thing is,” she said sheepishly, “The locals have this superstition about the woods in this area. People say that they’re, uh…haunted.”
“…Haunted?”
You were barely able to contain an amused grin from overtaking your face, and with a shrug you turned back toward the kitchen, admiring the view of the trees through the little window above the stove.
“I know, it’s pretty weird,” the agent chuckled. “But people around here really do believe it. Something about an urban legend. I will say, though, that coyotes and wolves are known to roam around at night, so that’s probably where the paranoia comes from. Just try not to go out after dark. And if you get any chickens or outdoor animals, I’d keep them inside a kennel.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I’m not exactly a farmer. I’m just looking for a place to settle down.
“And I think this cottage is the perfect spot.”
A month later, after the papers were signed and your possessions were moved in, you found yourself happier than you’d ever been in your new abode. You’d purchased house plants and artwork, designing the small space until it was exactly to your liking. You’d even decided to take up gardening, and your tiny back porch had become dotted with pots filled with flourishing herbs.
You fell into an easy routine. On Mondays, you would venture into town, picking up groceries from the local mart and picking up any other supplies you needed. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were dedicated to your work; you were the owner and manager of a blog that had become an overnight success several months ago, and so you spent those days curled up in the cottage, typing away at your laptop and creating content.
The only strange thing thus far had been the town residents’ reaction to you. Everyone was friendly, of course, and they’d made it clear that small town hospitality was a value the entire population seemed to share, but you weren’t oblivious to the way they side-eyed you. No one ever looked suspicious, per se, more like…expectant. Like they were waiting for you to say or do something, though you had no idea what it could be.
Earl, the bookstore owner, was by far one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and after four weeks of the bizarre treatment, you finally asked him about it.
“Oh, don’t mind us,” he waved you off, sliding your new books into a paper bag. “It’s just that no one’s ever lasted long in that cottage o’ yours.”
“…Well, that’s a bit…unsettling. What happened to them?”
“Nothing,” he was quick to assure you. “Nothing bad happens to ‘em. It’s not like they’ve gotten hurt or anything. It’s just that, uh… Well. Strange things seem to happen in that part o’ the woods at night, and it’s scared the last couple o’ tenants off.”
“Huh… My real estate agent did mention something like that,” you admitted, starting to feel an irrational spark of apprehension. “What kind of things did they see?”
“Well… I don’t wanna scare you away,” he grumbled, scratching at his salt-and-pepper beard.
“I promise you won’t. I really like where I’m at right now. I’m just…curious, I guess.”
Earl seemed to consider it for a moment before giving in.
“Alright,” he sighed. “But for the record, I don’t believe any of the silly nonsense some folks ‘round here like to gossip about. This is a quiet town – a safe town. The only dangerous thing about this place is Mary Jo’s strawberry rhubarb pie down at the soda shop – I swear those things are the reason I got diabetes.”
You chuckled at Earl, and he gave you a warm smile before leaning towards you over the counter, propping himself up on his elbow.
“So, anyways, back to your house,” he started. “The last people there were this younger couple. They were nice kids – had just gotten hitched. But after a few weeks, they said they started noticin’ howls at night. Now, that’s normal for this area; we’ve got some wolves. But these howls were close, so loud that it woke em’ up most nights.
“Then, they started seeing people walking around the property around midnight. It coulda’ been that they were smokin’ some stuff they shouldn’a been smokin’, but they swore up and down that they saw naked men traipsin’ around. One time, there was one on their back porch, and the husband ran out to chase him off, but as quick as they saw him, he vanished.
“Again, I don’t know if I believe all of that junk,” Earl huffed. “But… the old lady who lived there before the couple said the same thing before she passed away, god rest her soul. And ol’ Lizzy didn’t lie about this sorta thing.”
You made a quiet hum of contemplation, nodding.
“Well,” you eventually spoke, “if I see any naked men hanging around, I have my handy dandy taser.”
A wide grin broke out over the older man’s face, and he reached over the counter to cuff your shoulder.
“Thata girl,” he chuckled. “I like it. And if you do see people hangin’ around on your property, give me a call, ok?” He fumbled around for a business card, eventually opening the cash register and pulling one out. “Call the bottom number if anyone gives you trouble, ok? I know I’m not the most intimidating guy around, but I keep a shotgun at the house just in case. And if the wolves become a problem, call the police. They’ll send some guys over from animal control to chase ‘em off.”
“Thanks, Earl,” you smiled, tucking the card into your wallet. “Oh, and before I forget, do you have any stationary? Letter writing paper, colored pens, that sort of thing?”
“I’m afraid we don’t. Oh, but Greg and Lou would probably have some. Try their art supply store; it’s right around the corner on the left side o’ the road.”
With that, you thanked Earl and walked out, clutching your paper bag of novels to your chest. You had to admit that the idea of wolves on your property was starting to scare you, but the thought of a naked guy just hanging out in the woods was enough to make you laugh to yourself. Even if it was true, you’d dealt with weirdos before. If that was the worst of your problems, then you’d be a happy camper.
You followed Earl’s instructions and immediately spotted a quaint store with a sign over the door reading “The Brushstroke”. Upon walking inside, you were greeted by the smell of paper and ink, and papier mache mobiles were hanging from the ceiling every few feet, dancing in the breeze that had flown in after you opened the door. Two men were standing behind the counter, sipping from steaming mugs of tea, and their heads popped up as you walked in.
“Hey, there!” one of them called, giving you a wave. “Welcome; come on in.”
“Hello,” you replied with a smile.
“We haven’t seen you around before,” the other man remarked, a kind smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be the new girl in town, would you?”
“Word spreads quickly, I guess.”
“It does when you live in a town like this,” he nodded. “I’m Lou, by the way. And this is my husband Greg.”
Greg nodded in greeting, and you gave them a wide smile.
“It’s nice to meet you guys.”
“Likewise, hon. Can we help you find anything?”
You told them what you were looking for, and they instructed you towards the back of the store, where you found a wall filled with rows of neat packets of paper right next to a cubby of pens of all types and colors. You took your time in making your selections, not even noticing the door of the shop opening and closing; it was only when you heard Greg and Lou’s quiet conversation come to an abrupt halt that you glanced around the corner to see what was going on.
Your eyes widened when you saw the man standing in front of the counter; he was tall, maybe a few inches over six foot, and built like a tank. A thick, well-groomed beard adorned his face, and his hair was on the longer side, curling just past his ears in thick, easy waves. Despite the chilly weather outside, he was only dressed in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and you watched his biceps bulge under the fabric as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“…Steve,” Greg finally said. “Long time no see.”
The man – Steve, evidently – nodded his head as he approached the counter.
“Wh-what can we do for you?” Lou asked, seeming to shrink back as he walked towards them.
“I need a new sketchbook,” Steve mumbled, almost too quietly for you to hear. His voice was deep, resonating, and something about its gravelly edge made goosebumps rise up over your arms.
“You know where to find ‘em,” Greg stated after clearing his throat. “Just get whatever you need and go.”
It looked as if Steve was about to say something, but after a pause, he just nodded, ducking his head and turning directly towards you. You stiffened as he grew nearer, feeling an unexplainable urge to turn and run away from him, but then his eyes met yours, and you were frozen in place.
Blue irises stared directly into you, and you watched as surprise washed over his features. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in through his nose, and you swore that you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. When his gaze finally met yours again, and you stumbled back a step, stunned at the look on his face. It was as if he knew you.
But that couldn’t be; you’d never seen this man before. If you had, you definitely would’ve remembered him.
“I-I…” you stuttered. “I’m sorry.”
You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, but all of a sudden you were broken out of your strange stupor. Fixing your eyes firmly on the floor, you turned and blindly grabbed the first stack of papers that your extended hand came in contact with. You did the same with the pens, grabbing a random pack before turning on your heel and heading towards the front.
Or, rather, heading directly into a broad, firm chest. You hadn’t heard any footsteps, but while your back was turned Steve had apparently stalked up behind you, and now you were so close that you could smell the distinct scent of pine wafting off of him. Pine and…something else, something musky. It made your mouth water and your eyes flutter shut, and you could have sworn that you heard a deep growl sound from his chest.
The noise startled you so badly that you dropped everything, even your paper bag from Earl’s, and you felt as if your entire body was trembling as you turned away. On unsteady feet, you walked back to the front, glancing at Greg and Lou out of the corner of your eye as you headed towards the door. Lou was watching you with a concerned expression painted across his face, but Greg was still staring Steve down, as if he were sizing him up.
The cold, early-spring wind hit you square in the face once you exited the store, and it sobered you up enough to cease your nervous trembling. There was still a sense of blind panic, though, a deep-seated fear that drove you to march over to your car without turning back.
As you peeled out of your parking space and sped towards your home, you slowly began to calm down, taking slow, even breaths to slow the frantic beating of your heart. As you put more and more distance between you and the mysterious man from the art store, you found that, even later on when you were safe in your home, you still couldn’t rationalize why you’d felt the way you had. And that evening, when you were getting ready to go to bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.
Typically, you kept the curtains in your bedroom open, enjoying the sight of the forest laying just beyond the panes of glass. But tonight, before going to bed, you drew them shut before burrowing under the covers, hiding away from the lingering, unexplainable dread that had followed you home that day.
____________
You weren’t sure what had woken you. When you jolted out of your slumber, you were laying sprawled out over your mattress, your sheets tangled around your ankles. Everything was quiet, unsettlingly so. It was as if your cottage was holding its breath, waiting for something horrible to happen. The world was black beyond your windows, and the clock on your bedside table read 3:42 in the morni-
Wait.
The lingering tendrils of sleep within your brain melted away as you bolted upright, your wide eyes focused on your windows and the curtains that were neatly pulled away from them. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slowly, deliberately, stood up from your bed, reaching for your phone blindly as you kept your eyes on the windows.
You drew the curtains closed as your thumb hovered over the emergency call button, and you gulped before turning towards your open bedroom door.
“H-hello?” you called out, voice still thick with sleep.
There was no answer, and you took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room. You were relieved to find nothing out of place; the kitchen, as well, was in perfect order, as was your tiny bathroom. You grew bolder as you searched your house, checking underneath your bed and inside of your wardrobe, but still you found nothing.
Eventually, you sauntered over to your back door, and that’s when you smelled it. Smelled him. The same scent that had flooded your senses back at the bookstore was thick in the air right next to the backdoor. You blinked rapidly, feeling a stirring in your gut as you inhaled it, and you gulped as you faced the door.
“…Steve?” you murmured, suddenly unable to make a sound any louder than a whisper.
Without realizing what you were doing, your hand came up to the doorknob, tracing the curve of it with your thumb. A tiny, experimental twist revealed that it wasn’t locked, and a small voice in the back of your head supplied that it was sure you’d locked it before going to sleep.
One more twist, and the door popped open, goosebumps rising up over your skin as the night air rushed over you. You turned on the porch light with a flick of your fingers and stepped out, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet. You half expected to see a naked man standing there just as Earl had said, but there was nobody.
You let out a shaky laugh, leaning against the doorway as your eyes flitted over the forest. You felt silly, getting all paranoid for no reason. With a small, sheepish smile, you straightened up and turned to head back inside, eager to climb back under your warm sheets and forget about the whole thing.
But that was when you saw it.
You stopped in your tracks and sucked in a deep breath as the wolf sauntered out from the tree line, its eyes focused directly on you just as yours were focused on it. Its fur was sandy and mottled with streaks of light brown and creamy white, and in the dim light you thought that you caught a flash of blue in its eyes. You took a step backwards as that same smell washed over you, and for a short, fleeting moment, you thought that there was something familiar about the beast.
It took another step towards you, and that was when you realized how massive it was. You’d seen pictures of wolves on the internet; you knew how big they were supposed to be compared to people. But this was another thing completely; this wolf looked to be the size of a grizzly bear, and you knew that if it were to stand up on its two hind legs, it would tower over you.
Abruptly, you broke out of your paralysis, blinking rapidly as you turned back towards your door. You heard a growl from behind you, but you ignored it as you fled back into your house, slamming the door shut and turning the lock back into place. A thud sounded on its other side, followed by the scratching of claws against wood.
You waited several moments, silently begging the animal to stop, but the thumping only carried on, accompanied by muted, distressed whining. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your phone, punching in ‘911’ and holding the device up to your ear.
“911, where is your emergency?”
“U-um… I-I’m at 432 Nottington Lane. Please, there’s this, this wolf outside and it’s trying to get it, and…”
As you spoke, the noises suddenly stopped. You paused, frowning at the door and straining your ears. But everything had once more gone silent.
“Hello, ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m still here. Um… I think it’s gone now. It’s… Yeah, it’s gone. I’m really sorry to bother you guys. Just, uh… Just ignore this call, please. I’m sorry.”
You hung up and set your phone down on the kitchen counter, staring hard at your back door.
“…Shit.”
_______________
You didn’t close your curtains again after that night. You told yourself it was because there was no reason to, that you had nothing to hide yourself from. But, in the back of your mind, you knew that it was because you were too afraid of waking up with them open of someone else’s accord.
Two days went by with no further incident. You kept up with your little routine, throwing yourself into your work and acting as if you weren’t still shaken up from the ordeal. You called Earl and let him know you’d seen a wolf, just like he’d said, and the two of you had laughed over the scare it had given you. But the laughter didn’t reach your eyes or your heart, and it was still hard for you to fall asleep whenever night came around.
On the third day, though, you decided that you needed to get out. Every time your eyes strayed to the forest, you felt a pinprick of anxiety, and you were desperate to forget about what had happened. And so, dressing in your most comfortable leggings and oversized sweater, you ventured out into town, stopping for breakfast at the soda shop.
Mary Jo’s Soda Shop had been open and owned by Mary Jo herself since before you were born. It was located right in the center of town, and it was the closest thing to ‘busy’ that the small township’s population could be capable of. The front porch was lined with old, worn rocking chairs, and empty planter boxes sat beneath every single window; you were sure that they’d be overflowing with petunias as the weather turned warmer.
The atmosphere was warm and cozy as you stepped inside. People of all different races and walks of life found solace under Mary’s roof, and it was clear by the easy smiles, easy laughter, and easy conversation that pervaded the dining room. A teenaged girl, who you’d later find out to be Mary Jo’s granddaughter, showed you to your table and took your order, and as you settled down into the cracked-leather seat of your booth, you found yourself finally relaxing.
It was easy to get lost in your own thoughts, especially with the dull roar of voices and the soft sounds of country music playing over the radio as background noise. You stared off into space as you sipped your orange juice, content to just zone out for a few moments and let your brain go on autopilot.
Maybe that was why it startled you so much when a man abruptly slid into the seat across from you. You were pulled out of your revelry by a dark shadow suddenly appearing in your peripheral vision, and your initial fright only deepened when you looked up to see who it was.
“Steve…”
The man from yesterday was staring you down, dressed this time in a red and black flannel. His hair, too, looked like it had been combed out, and his beard was shiny and soft-looking, as if he’d rubbed oil into it that morning.
You didn’t know what to say as he sat across from you, his fingers laced together on top of the table, and for an uncomfortably long moment, the two of you were completely silent.
“What’s your name?” he finally asked, and you arched your eyebrow at him.
“Why do you want to know?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he let out a long sigh through his nose. He didn’t answer your question, and you started to shift in your seat as he continued to stare.
Finally, you told him, murmuring your name under your breath. Upon hearing it, he nodded, finally glancing up when your waitress came back to take your order. When her eyes fell onto the man seated across from you, she visibly paled, her mascara-lined eyes widening as her smile turned to a grimace.
“Mr. Rogers,” she said timidly, “my grandmother told you not to come in anymore-“
“It’ll be fine, Rosie,” he grunted. “I won’t cause any trouble; I’m just talking with (Y/N), here.”
Rosie looked over to you, and you blinked up at her, hoping your incredulity was showing through in your eyes.
“I… I’m not sure…”
Steve huffed and looked over at you, a predatory edge appearing in his visage.
“Go on,” he encouraged you. “Tell her.”
“I really don’t-“
Suddenly, his scent was flooding your senses once more, and you almost gagged on your words as you breathed it in. You wondered why Rosie didn’t seem to notice it as it washed over you, nearly suffocating in its intensity.
“I, uh…” Your voice trailed off distractedly, and Steve’s knee nudged yours under the table.
“I-it’s fine,” you finally managed to stutter, and a pleased smirk appeared over his features.
“See? Everything is fine,” he insisted. “Now, weren’t you coming to take our orders?”
Rosie hesitated, but finally she slipped a notepad out of her pocket and nodded.
“Perfect. I’ll have the sampler with crispy bacon. Eggs over easy. And, uh… a biscuit on the side,” Steve listed off.
After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, prompting you to jump a little before telling Rosie what you would like.
“Oh! Uh… I’ll have the same,” you muttered, though you hadn’t really been planning on eating anything of the sort.
But Rosie jotted it down in her notepad, all but fleeing to the kitchen after you were done speaking.
“And I’ll take some coffee!” Steve called after her.
When it was finally just the two of you, he once again gave you his full attention, and you fought to keep your mind straight.
“I don’t…know you,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know you, and you’re making me uncomfortable. Please, just-“
“I really liked the nightgown you had on last night.”
Your eyes bugged open, and your head shot up to look at him. You felt your blood run cold as he watched you with that same smirk he’d worn while ordering Rosie around, and you clutched your purse tighter to yourself.
“Wh…What did you just say?”
“You heard me,” he insisted. “How are you liking living in that cottage? The last few people there-“
“What the fuck,” you interrupted. “You…you were watching me?”
He sighed at your interruption but nodded, leaning forward on his elbows.
“And you were watching me.”
“No,” you shook your head. “I never saw you, or I would’ve called the cops-“
“But you did see me,” he insisted. “While I was in my other form.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, but then understanding came over you, and you shook your head.
“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You mean…the wolf?”
Steve nodded, looking up when Rosie came back with his coffee. She all but slammed the cup on the table, spilling a few drops of the beverage as she poured it. After shooting him a sour glare, she turned on her heel to attend to the other tables around you, the occupants thereof starting to notice who you were sitting with. The din of voices had gone just a bit quieter as they watched him, and you were starting to realize that the entire town knew who Steve was, and judging on the locals’ reaction to him, his reputation wasn’t on the favorable side of things.
“So… Let me get this straight,” you deadpanned, watching as Steve took a sip from his steaming mug. “You’re saying that you were the wolf I saw?”
He nodded, swallowing his coffee.
“I’m among the last of my kind,” he sighed, tapping his fingers against his cup. “At least in this area of the country. But, yeah, that was me, scratching at your door. I was honestly a little hurt by your reaction-“
“You’re fucking insane.”
A scowl overtook his features, and his hands tensed as his fingers went still.
“I would really prefer it,” he growled, “if you didn’t use that sort of language with me, Omega.”
“Ome- What?” You shook your head, unable to process how insane this man really was. “Ok, I’m done here.”
You grabbed your purse and stood up from the booth, but a hand clamped down on your upper arm as you made for the front door.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Steve insisted, and you felt fear course through you at how possessive he’d just sounded. “We have a lot we need to talk about.”
“Let go of me!” You tried to pull away from him, but you might as well have been struggling against an iron chain. Steve didn’t budge as he held you in place, and a whimper escaped your throat as he began pulling you to sit next to him in the booth.
“Steve.”
Both of you froze when you heard the voice, and you looked up to see three men standing over your table, frowning at the man who still had a firm hold on you.
“Steve, let the girl go,” one of them said, and you saw Steve’s lip curl out of the corner of your eye.
“Rhodey,” he grunted. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Not long enough,” the man fired back.
For a second, you were afraid that Steve was going to ignore them, but then his grip on you disappeared. You hurriedly stood up again, backing away until you were out of arm’s reach from him. The entire restaurant was silent as everybody within held their breath, watching Rhodey and Steve stare one another down.
“This isn’t any of your business,” Steve said, and it was then that you realized you couldn’t wait there any longer. You didn’t care how it played out; you just wanted to get out of there.
And so, while everyone was distracted, you turned on your heel and slipped out, pushing past the front door, running past the rocking chairs and planter boxes, crossing the street without first looking both ways. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute, and you didn’t fully know where you were running to until you were standing in the entry way of Earl’s bookstore.
“Hey, there,” he called out to you, but his typical cheerful greeting died on his tongue when he saw your face. “What happened?”
Twenty minutes later, you and Earl were seated in his office. You’d told him everything, save for the way Steve’s scent affected you. You knew it was crazy, and you didn’t want one of your only friends in your new town to think you were as insane as your stalker.
“…Shit.”
It was the first word he’d uttered since you began telling him your tale, and he rubbed his forehead as he took in your story.
“Shit. I mean… I always knew there was something off about that Rogers boy,” he admitted. “But he’s never pulled anything like this.”
You quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at him.
“Why does everyone dislike him?” you asked. “It seems like the whole town has something against him.”
Your friend sighed and sat back in his chair, stroking his beard in thought.
“It didn’t used to be that way,” he started. “Steve, he grew up here. He was always the golden boy – never cursed, never acted disrespectful. Hell, he was a boy scout for years, and all throughout high school he was the team quarterback. He won so many games that he became a local celebrity.
“But, uh… Well. Shit hit the fan the day he turned 18.”
You frowned; you couldn’t picture the crazy, creepy man you’d just been borderline-assaulted by as a popular, polite teenager.
“What happened when he turned 18?” you asked.
Earl hesitated, wringing his hands. For a pregnant pause, he didn’t say anything, but finally he took a deep breath.
“Look, I don’t personally have anything against the guy,” he finally huffed. “But even I get the creeps when I’m around him. That boy, he was never the same after that fourth of July. Hell, the town hasn’t been the same since.”
You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and finally Earl began the story.
“Steve’s folks were a nice couple. He was their only kid, so each year, Sarah and Joseph would throw Steve this big birthday party. I’m talkin’ fireworks, barbeque, the whole nine yards. But his 18th birthday outdid them all; the whole town practically showed up for it.
“But Steve was off the entire day; I think he was sick or something. He was real sweaty, and his eyes were all…red. Like he’d been scratchin’ at ‘em. And when the fireworks started goin’ off… The boy lost it.
“It was like a flip switched in him; next thing we knew, he was takin’ off into the woods, holdin’ his head like his skull was gonna split in two. His mama went runnin’ after him, and then his pops went to get ‘em after about five minutes or so when there was no sign of them comin’ back.
“After half an hour, we went searchin’ for ‘em, and it wasn’t till dawn that we found the three of them.”
Earl took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with a trembling hand as he recalled the memory.
“I was in the team that found his parents, and… Hon, they were butchered. The bodies, they were hardly recognizable. Big bites had been taken outta them; blood was everywhere. Another team found Steve about half a mile away, completely naked and shivering by the river.”
“Oh, my god,” you murmured. “That’s… That’s horrible.”
Your friend nodded gravely, but he wasn’t done yet.
“We all figured that it was a coyote that got ‘em,” he continued. “Or a wolf. But Steve… He was in shock, you see, so take what I’m about to say with a grain o’ salt. But all the way to the police station, he kept sayin’… He kept sayin’, ‘I didn’t mean to kill them… I didn’t mean to kill them.’
“O’ course, no one really believed him; it was clear that an animal had gotten to them, and this was Steve Rogers we were talking about. The kid had never said an unkind word to anyone. And his family got along great.
“A few years passed, and Steve was never the same, but we expected as much. Everyone was still nice to him, and he tried for a while, you know? But then Peggy moved into town.”
“Who’s Peggy?”
“She was this real nice girl – British. She moved with her family to the area. Shoot, she was a firecracker. Didn’t take any shit from nobody; the whole town fell in love with her. Including poor ol’ Stevie.
“When the two started dating, we were thrilled for ‘em. Steve was finally starting to act more like himself; you shoulda seen him. The kid was head over heels, and she was the same. About six months went by, and we really thought that they were gonna make it.
“But then…”
Earl swallowed thickly, eyes darting back up to your face before resting once again on his hands.
“Peggy was found one day in the woods, just like Steve’s parents – mauled, butchered…dead.”
“Jesus Christ…”
“No one saw or heard from Steve for years after that. The kid just vanished into thin air without warning. And so soon after Peggy’s death, well… You can imagine the rumors that started flying around about him. Five years went by, and that was when people started hearing and seeing strange things in the woods. And your cottage, it’s right by where the bodies were found; you can’t be more than a quarter of a mile from where they found Peg.
“Eventually, Steve moved back into town, though no one recognized him. He’d always been a skinny, lean kinda guy, but when he moved back, he looked like he does now. And even if he hadn’t changed so much on the outside, no one would’ve recognized the polite young man we’d all watched grow up in this new Steve. He was mean; I can’t tell you how many fights he got in at the bar, or how many times he lashed out at someone just to have an excuse to throw some punches.
“Whatever happened to his family and his girl, he’s never been the same since. And if he really believes what he told you earlier at the soda shop, then he’s finally lost his mind.”
___________
You spent the night at Earl’s house. He and his wife set up their guest bedroom for you, and as you and Sherry ate dinner, Earl called the sheriff. You listened in as he told him everything that Steve had done, including watching you the night before, and after ending the call, Earl gave you the sheriff’s number.
“He said to call him at the first sign of trouble,” Earl instructed. “And he said that he’s gonna head over to Steve’s cabin to have a nice, long talk with him. Don’t you worry; Sheriff Wilson is a tough son of a bitch, and he’s a great man. You’re in good hands with him.”
You thanked the couple profusely, and you were finally able to sleep restfully through the night, knowing that you weren’t alone. You didn’t even mind that you could hear Earl and Sherry’s snoring from all the way down the hall; you hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in days.
The next morning, Sheriff Wilson stopped by after Sherry had served up breakfast, and you had to admit that you did feel better after talking to him.
“So I set everything straight with Steve,” Sam explained. “He said that he’d been drunk that morning at breakfast, and he admitted to saying some things that he regretted. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf, and he said that he would stay away from you from here on out, if it would make you more comfortable.”
“I’d be more comfortable if he moved to a different country altogether, but I’ll take it,” you’d joked weakly, coaxing a laugh out of the sheriff.
“Well, I’ll run it by him the next time we see each other,” he’d chuckled. “But for now, I think you’ll be just fine.”
After helping Sherry clean up from breakfast, you reluctantly got into your car and started back to your cottage, feeling your short-lived relief start to dwindle away as you approached your home. Who’s to say that Steve would stay true to his word? And there was something about the memory of him calling you ‘omega’ that didn’t sit well with you. You had no idea what that meant, but the conviction, the possessive, commanding tone in his voice still made shivers crawl up and down your spine.
Once you stepped into your cottage, you gave each room a cursory once-over, making sure nothing was out of place before plopping down onto your couch with your laptop. You were severely behind on work, and you needed the distraction to calm your nerves.
Before you knew it, the sun was starting to slip over the horizon, and as the evening turned to night, your eyelids started drooping. You’d finally managed to catch up on work, and although it took you until 9 o’clock at night, you were back on schedule with your blog.
Finally giving in to your sleepiness, you stood up and stretched before methodically going around to each door and window, making sure that they were all closed and locked. After once more checking that Steve wasn’t hiding in your wardrobe, shower, or backyard, you relaxed and went into your bedroom, changing into a flannel pajama set before crawling into bed.
Sleep came easily to you that night, but it didn’t stay for long.
_________
It was, once again, just after 3 in the morning when you woke up, although there was something different about this time around. There was an almost electric charge to the air, and it immediately made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You sat up in bed and looked around your room, and even though the curtains were still closed, just as you’d left them, you immediately noticed the smell.
Your hand fell onto your nightstand, blindly fumbling for your phone, but it wasn’t where you’d left it. Panic pierced through you, and you frantically reached for your charging chord, but it was no longer plugged into your cell. There was, however, something new sitting on your bedside table, and you flicked your lamp on to see clearly what it was.
Your blood went cold when you saw the paper bag from Earl’s, still filled with your new books, just as you’d left it in the art shop.
“I’d been meaning to give that back to you.”
A scream tore itself out of your lips, and your hand flew up to clap over your mouth as you turned to the man now leaning in your doorway.
Steve was watching you with an amused smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was wild, and you noticed the way his chest rose and fell with quick, uneven breaths. He looked…unhinged, and Earl’s voice started ringing in your ears, telling you all the gory details about the deaths that had followed this man through his life.
“Steve, please,” you begged, pressing your back against your headboard. “I don’t know what you want-“
“Oh, c’mon,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you can put two and two together.”
With that, he pushed off of the wall and sauntered towards you, ignoring the way you trembled as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.
“I read your blog, by the way,” he remarked. “I actually liked it; you’ve got a talent with writing.”
You gulped, not sure what to say as he turned to face you. For a moment, something flashed through his eyes, something other than the smug cynicism that usually dwelled there, but he looked away before you could get a good look at it.
“I’m sure Earl told you a lot of things about me,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry that’s how you had to hear them. But I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you. Honestly.”
“Wow, that really puts me at ease,” you grumbled. “It definitely makes the fact that you’ve broken into my house twice now totally ok.”
Steve huffed, and annoyance crossed his handsome features.
“Careful, omega,” he grunted. “I’m trying to be nice, here.”
You wanted to snap at him that he should really try harder, then, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that you didn’t want to anger him if you didn’t have to.
“…Why do you keep calling me that?” you instead asked, and the fire in his gaze cooled just a bit.
“…I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he finally sighed. “And I can understand why this all sounds so crazy; if I were in your situation, I would probably think the same thing. But just… hear me out, ok? I’m going to tell you everything I know.”
You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest, and after another deep breath he began.
“I used to be normal, or so I thought,” he began. “I used to be like you; I didn’t know what was out there. I didn’t know that certain legends that we’ve all learned to accept as fiction were actually based on fact. But that all changed on my 18th birthday.
“That was the day that I first turned into a wolf.” Steve paused, looking pained for a moment, but after swallowing thickly he continued. “I had no clue what was happening to me. I just felt…wrong, like I was being torn apart from the inside. I fought to keep control of myself, but… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.
“People got hurt; I’m sure you’ve been told all the gritty details. But that wasn’t… It wasn’t me. I tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to keep it inside, bottled up, but eventually I couldn’t hold back anymore. And that was when I left.
“I went looking for people like me. It took me a while, but eventually I found a small group of them in New York. They called themselves the Howling Commandos.”
Steve laughed, shaking his head.
“Not the name I would’ve chosen, but they were good people. They helped me control it, taught me how to remain myself even when I’m in my other form. And I learned more about what it means to be a, uh…
“Werewolf.”
You bit your lip, staring at him as you grew even more fearful; he believed this. You could tell by the way his eyes were glistening with barely-contained tears, and if you weren’t so terrified of him, you would feel sorry for how sad he looked.
“Steve, you… you must realize that this is hard for me to believe, right? I mean… This isn’t Twilight; this is the real world.”
He rolled his eyes at the mention of that book.
“There’s about a thousand things wrong with that fucking story, and I’ll die mad about it,” he muttered under his breath, and you hugged yourself tighter as he stood up.
“You want me to prove it to you? Fine.”
Steve stood still for a long moment, closing his eyes, and you found your gaze straying to the door behind his back. He was distracted, evidently focused on transforming into a fucking wolf, oblivious to you as you slowly moved to set your feet on the floor.
Now is your moment, your brain whispered, and after taking a deep breath, you leapt to your feet. You didn’t notice the way his skin was slowly starting to grow patches of blonde fur, nor did you register that his voice had become more of an animalistic growl as he realized that you were trying to run. You were solely focused on making it out alive.
The back door was closer to you than the front, and you could practically feel Steve’s breath on the back of your neck as he gave chase, and so you nearly yanked the door off of its rusty, old hinges as you went flying out onto the back porch. You just barely managed to close the door behind you, and right before it slammed shut, you were able to make out an open maw filled with sharp teeth. The same thumping you’d heard several nights ago sounded from within your home, but with the way the wood was creaking and splintering, you knew it wouldn’t keep Steve trapped inside for long.
You began to run towards your car, but with a curse you realized that your keys were still resting on your coffee table inside the cottage, and you wouldn’t go back inside there if someone offered you a million dollars to. So, fully aware of what a terrible idea it was, you started running down the length of your gravel driveway, the small stones and twigs digging into your feet until you felt them starting to grow slick with blood.
You didn’t get far at all before you heard the sound of a low, deep howl split the silence of the night, and you pumped your legs even faster when you heard heavy footfalls starting to give chase behind you. Frantically, you turned and made a beeline for the forest, hoping to lose him in the woods. Low branches and brambles clawed at your face, and the cuts on your feet burned so bad that tears started rolling down your cheeks.
It was simultaneously an eternity and a millisecond before you felt a massive weight crash into you from behind, and with a cry you fell onto your belly. Your arms and legs scrambled about as you tried to crawl away, but you stopped with another scream when a set of impossibly sharp teeth nipped at your shoulder. Even though they didn’t cut deep, it was still enough to scare you into submission, and you immediately went still as your captor panted above you.
Your chest rose and fell as you fought to catch your breath, but it felt as if your heart had stopped beating entirely when you chanced a look to your right and saw…a paw. A huge, sandy-blonde paw about the size of your head was planted in the mud right next to your neck. You turned, and on your left side was the same thing.
Slowly, you rolled over onto your back, and you found yourself face to face with the wolf from before, only this time, you were close enough to see its blue eyes clearly – Steve’s eyes.
“…Steve?” you breathed.
Before your disbelieving eyes, the animal hovering over you started to shift and change, morphing gradually back into the man who’d terrorized you so much up to this point. Except now, as he straddled your hips, completely nude, you knew that he’d been right all along.
“Still think I’m crazy?” he panted, still out of breath from the chase.
“I… How…”
“I tried to tell you,” he grumbled, leaning down. You squirmed when you felt him press his nose to your neck, nuzzling it as he inhaled deeply, and you whimpered when his cock twitched against your thigh. “God, you have no idea what your scent does to me.”
You made a small noise of protest when his tongue darted out, laving over a spot right under your jaw.
“I thought it was too good to be true, you know,” he groaned, and you let out a noise that was dangerously close to a moan as you realized you could smell him once again. “I thought that people had to be a werewolf to be an alpha or an omega, but as soon as I smelled you in the art shop… Fuck, I knew you were mine.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to protest, but you were silenced when Steve nipped at your neck.
“We both know that’s not true,” he chided. “We both know what my scent does to you.”
Steve dragged his teeth down the side of your neck, and you shivered at the sensation. You wanted to fight this; you didn’t want to give in to him. But something inside of you refused to do anything but lay there beneath him, panting as he tasted your skin.
“I’ve never been with an omega before,” he confessed. “The Commandos told me they were incredibly rare, a dying breed just like me. But fate must have brought us together for a reason.”
“I’m… I’m not an omega,” you insisted, but a soft mewl fell out of your lips when he ground his hips forward, the line of his cock sliding up the length of your clothed pussy.
“Then why do you have a mating gland?” he rasped, his tongue darting out to lick at a spot on your neck.
“A what?” you squeaked, but suddenly his hands were on your hips, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. His palms groped your ass, and suddenly you felt your pajamas being pulled down until they pooled around your knees.
“I can’t wait any longer,” Steve growled.
No, no, no. Your thoughts were swirling rapidly as Steve’s fingers slid down your spine. You didn’t want this; you weren’t an omega; Steve was crazy.
Why does your body want this so bad?
You couldn’t find the strength to try and crawl away when Steve’s hands left you, but your eyes widened when he suddenly spread your legs wider apart. The cold night air was icy against your cunt and your thighs, and when the warmth of his hands finally returned to your body, you couldn’t hold in your moan.
“That’s right, omega,” he panted, his hand reaching down to cup your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet; it’s already dripping down your thighs…”
Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as he pushed his finger inside, and your body’s reaction started drowning out your brain. As he thrust his finger in and out, your hips started pushing back against him as white noise echoed in your ears.
“Mmm,” you whined, clenching your teeth. “M-more, fuck-“
“More?” Steve cooed. “You want more?”
You nodded your head, and a gasp parted your lips as he added another finger, curling it in a way that had you seeing stars. Your legs spread wider, and you dropped to your elbows, pushing back in time with his hand.
“This is what you need,” he growled. “You need your alpha to take care of you, don’t you? To use your pretty little cunt and fill you up with my seed. Ain’t that right, doll?”
“Y-yes,” you moaned, feeling your walls start to flutter around him.
All too soon, though, he pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. You burrowed your face into your arms and whined at the loss, but a few seconds later, Steve was gripping your hips. You could feel his fully hard length against your ass, and your breath caught in your throat upon feeling how big it was.
“W-wait-“
Steve shushed you, tangling one of his hands in your hair as the tip of his cock glided through your folds, brushing against your clit.
“It’s ok, omega,” he whispered. “Just lay back and take it.”
With that, his head pressed against your entrance, and your lips parted in a silent scream as he impaled you. Your cervix ached as his dick pressed against it, and you were vaguely aware of the broken moans falling out of your lips.
“Fuck, doll,” your alpha breathed, and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Feels so good, so fucking good. My good girl…”
You groaned when he drew his hips back and thrust forward again, jarring your whole body with the movement. Your teeth clenched together as he found his rhythm, the initial stretch still burning. You’d never felt anything like this before, and the pain was mixing with your pleasure until you couldn’t tell one from the other.
Slowly, as the minutes went by, your abused cunt started to adjust, and your moans became less and less strained as you once more felt pleasure start to crest within you.
“That’s it,” Steve praised, pushing your hair away so he could press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Just relax; let your alpha make you feel good.”
You whimpered as he started thrusting faster, his hips snapping as deep, gravelly growls spilled out of his throat. Your own moans filled the air as you once again felt your orgasm build up inside of you. Your pussy walls contracted and fluttered as you got closer and closer, and Steve’s hand came down hard on your ass.
“Go ahead, omega,” he commanded. “Cum for me; don’t hold back. Give it to me; let me feel it. Cum for me-“
With a wail, your body did as it was commanded, and you trembled as you reached your climax. Your cunt squeezed his cock as he slowed his thrusts, and your hips moved of their own accord as you rode it out. Quiet, hoarse moans were still trailing out of your mouth as you came down from your high, and Steve’s beard tickled your skin as he pressed kisses along the curve of your shoulder.
“Good girl,” he praised, and you were sickened to realize that you enjoyed his words of encouragement.
You were surprised when he pulled his cock out of you, and you allowed him to flip you over onto your back. His cheeks were flushed, and he was panting, and your eyes trailed down to see his cock still painfully hard.
Without warning, he shoved it back inside of you, and your hands flew up, digging your nails into his back as he once again started thrusting at a brutal pace.
“’M gonna fill your fucking pussy up,” he was moaning, his hair falling into his eyes while his mouth hung open. “Gonna breed you like the little bitch you are-“
Despite having just cum, shocks of pleasure spread through you as he filled you, and in this position, you could watch his muscles bulge and flex as he chased his release. His eyes were squeezed shut, and one of his hands was pawing and kneading at your breast as he used the other to support his weight. The veins in his neck throbbed as he grew closer and closer, and you were taken off guard to find that you were approaching your second climax with him.
“You already gonna cum again, baby?” he whispered. “Do it. Give it to me; I want it.”
You closed your eyes and arched up, frenzied moans of yes, please, God, more, I need more, spilling past your lips almost unintelligibly. You were so close – just a little more and you would be pushed over the edge.
Just before you could reach it, though, Steve’s eyes snapped open, focusing on your neck hungrily. You should have felt fear, knowing what he was, what had happened to his parent and his last lover. But instinct took over, and you found yourself tilting your head back, baring your neck to him in a sign of submission.
With a feral growl, he lunged forward, and you shrieked as his teeth pierced your skin, right where he’d claimed earlier your ‘mating gland’ was. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel your life fade away, ready to see blood spurting up from the wound. But that never happened; no, instead you felt as if you’d just been electrified. Every sensation you were feeling was suddenly amplified tenfold, and your vision went black as you came for the second time.
Your ears were ringing, but you were still able to hear the primal roar that Steve let out as he came, painting your inner walls with his seed as hips finally slowed to a stop. For several long seconds, the two of you were perfectly still save for your chests as they rose and fell with your heavy breathing. Steve’s cock began to soften inside of you, but he made no move to pull away. No, instead he collapsed over you, his head resting against your chest as his heated skin shielded you from the cold air.
“You were perfect,” you heard him whisper, and one of his fingers came up to trace the bite mark he’d left behind on your neck. “Your bond scar is gonna be so gorgeous, little omega.”
Sleep threatened to overtake you as you lay there, not truly processing Steve’s words as his weight atop you lulled you towards sleep.
“Go ahead and rest, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll carry you back home, and then we can go again. Don’t worry, doll; I won’t stop until you��re nice and round with my babies.”
You should have felt scared – you should have pulled away and ran into the woods. But instead, you let out a content noise of acknowledgement before doing just as he said. The last thing you registered before slipping into a deep, dreamless slumber was his arms as they wrapped around you and picked you up, carrying you away from the road and into the forest.
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