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fanartandfanfiction · 1 year

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Ominis/MC drabble featuring Meatball

based on a modern AU text post I wrote, and @slythersloots suggested I write a drabble, so here you go! Eventually this will be a chapter in my "Saga of Meatball" series but I thought you all would enjoy it now.

Ominis was sitting at his desk studying when he heard knocking on his door.

“YOOOOO-HOOOO! OMINISSS!”

He smiled to himself. It was Melody. He got up and opened the door and was immediately met with a hug.

“You’re so soft. I think I’d like to stay here.” Melody rested her head against his chest.

Ominis sniffed. “Melody? Are you drunk?”

“A little.” She replied against his chest.

“Would you like me to escort you back to your dorm?”

“Noooo I wanna play with Meatball! Hello my little cutie patootie.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Meatball asked as Melody picked him up and muttered incoherently.

“She’s drunk. She drank alcohol and it lowers your inhibitions and makes you quite silly.”

“I’m gonna try something real quick, hang on.” Melody looked Meatball intensely in the eyes “ HIIIISSSSSiiiiisssssIIIIIssss!”

“What the fuck?”

“Melody, what are you doing?” Ominis asked.

“Speaking in parseltongue. Did he understand me?”

“Yes, he did.”

“What? It was nonsense, I don’t think it was even words, just sounds.”

“Yes, but it’ll make her happy.” Ominis replied.

“I’m tired.” Melody said.

“Let me take you back to your dorm.”

“Nooo I just wanna snuggle my lil Meatball!” She brought him over by Ominis’ bed. Meatball’s long body was too much for drunk Melody.

“Um, a little help?” Meatball asked.

“Here, let me help you.” Ominis stepped forward and picked up Meatball’s tail. “How about you just sit down right there, alright?”

“Sure, sure. And you.” She grabbed at his shirt.

“No, not me. Just sit there for a-HEY!” Melody pulled him downwards onto the bed. “Melody!”

“Both my boys.” She hummed happily as she stroked Ominis’ hair. “My pretty little snake boys.”

Ominis’ could tell she was getting drowsy, and he needed to get away from her. He didn’t want her to do something she’d regret and he was, unfortunately, very sober and very aware of her body against his on his bed. He stood up abruptly and she whined. “Just stay there and get some rest, ok? Meatball will stay with you.”

“Ok.” Melody said and laid down. Meatball crawled over and layed on her protectively.

“I’ll keep her safe.”

“Thank you. I need to step out.” Ominis left, flipping the light off and leaving Meatball and Melody. He headed to the one place he knew he would be alone and comfortable: the undercroft.

He really needed to address his crush on Melody. To be honest, it was more than a crush. He loved everything about her. Her laugh, the feeling of her soft hair when it brushed against him, the warmth of her hand. She felt like a ray of sunshine after a lifetime of standing in the rain. What was he going to do?

Sebastian opened the door to their shared dorm. It was dark, so he figured Ominis was asleep. He stepped into the room and heard a low hissing. He looked towards Ominis’ bed and Meatball was sitting up and at attention, hissing at him and looking angry. “Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s fine.” Meatball relaxed slightly but still eyed him warily. The person on the bed stirred and sat up.

“Melody?!”

“Heeeey! It’s Sebastian!” Melody said excitedly. “Hey buddy!” She got up and stumbled over to him and hugged him. She looked to be wearing a party dress.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sleepin.” She answered.

“I get that, but why are you HERE? In our room?”

“I wanted to see Meatball. And Ominis.” She suddenly burst into tears.

“Hey, woah, what’s the matter?” He held onto her as she cried against his chest.

“He’s MAD at me!”

“Who’s mad at you?”

“Ominis! He left!”

“What do you mean he left? He just left you here by yourself?”

“With Meatball.” She sniffed. “He’s mad at me. I don’t want him to be mad at me!”

“Hang on, let me text him and see what’s going on.” Sebastian said reassuringly. Why don’t you sit back down with Meatball?”

About a half an hour after he’d left, Ominis’ phone buzzed.

Sebastian 11:35 PM: Ominis.

Ominis 11:35 PM: Yes?

Sebastian 11:35 PM: Would you like to explain why Melody is in our room, drunk and in your bed with Meatball wrapped around her on a Saturday night and you’re not here??

Ominis 11:36 PM: Oh, I meant to text you. She showed up drunk and said she wanted to cuddle Meatball. I made her sit down and she tried to take me with her. So I left her and Meatball on my bed.

Sebastian 11:36 PM: So Melody was drunk and tried to climb into your bed with you and you ran away?

Ominis 11:36 PM: Of course. She’s drunk. Are you saying you would have let her crawl into bed with you?

Sebastian 11:37 PM: I wouldn’t do anything, if that’s what you’re implying, but I’d stay with her. And by the way, now she’s awake and crying because she thinks you’re mad at her.

Shit. He shouldn’t have left her. She was drunk and confused and upset. He had just been overwhelmed and anxious. His phone began buzzing again.

Melody 11:38 PM: r u mad at me? 😣

Melody 11:38 PM: I just love Meatball

Melody 11:38 PM: And u

Melody 11:38 PM: whoops

Melody 11:39 PM: cats outta the bag!

Melody 11:39 PM: who put a cat in a bag anyway? Thats mean

Melody 11:39 PM: where did u go?

Melody 11:39 PM: O no. U dont like me

Melody 11:40 PM: Im sorry

Melody 11:40 PM: dont be mad, k?

Melody 11:40 PM: sorry

She loved him? Did she mean it? Or was she just drunk? And did she mean it like “you’re my friend and I love you” or “I LOVE you?” She seemed surprised she’d sent it. Regardless, he needed to reply to her.

Ominis 11:41 PM: I’m sorry, I’m coming back. I’m not mad at you, I shouldn’t have left. And this is a discussion we should have when you’re sober.

Melody 11:41 PM: 🐍🐍🐍

Melody 11:41 PM: that was meatball sayin hi

He needed to go back and handle this like an adult. He’d been foolish to just run away because he was scared of his own feelings. He headed back to their dorm.

“Melody, please put that down.” Sebastian said as Melody held up a trophy.

“What’d you win an award for? Being a big DORK?” She asked and then giggled.

“You’re kind of a mean drunk.” He grumbled. He stood up and took the trophy and she tried to reach for it. He held it up out of her reach and she huffed. Then she jumped on him.

Ominis approached their door and heard weird sounds coming from inside. Were they fighting? He pushed open the door and heard Sebastian.

“Melody! Stop it!”

“I wanna SEEEEE!”

“Get off of me, you leech!”

“What the hell is going on?!” Ominis said from the doorway.

“Your girlfriend here is a handful when she’s drunk. She keeps grabbing my stuff.”

“You won’t let me see it!” Melody protested.

“It’s glass and sharp and you don’t need it!”

“Ugh!” Melody huffed.

“Perhaps I should have kept him safe from her. He crumpled like a leaf when she jumped on him.” Meatball said.

Ominis chuckled. “Melody, hey, come sit down, alright?”

“Ok.” Melody said as she got off the floor.

“I think you bruised me!” Sebastian grumbled.

Melody sat on the bed and Meatball slithered over. “Hey little buddy.” She said and stroked his head.

“I’m sorry I left you. I’m not mad at you. Are you alright?”

“Fine.” She leaned over and whispered loudly “Sebastian is kind of a wimp.”

“I heard that.” Sebastian replied.

“Melody, do you want me to take you back to your dorm?”

“No. I wanna stay here. Slumber party! Woohoo!” She grabbed Ominis’ pillow. “PILLOW FIGHT!” She leaped towards Sebastian and Ominis heard the “THWUMP.”

“Merlin’s beard, why are you so violent?!” He attempted to shield himself as Melody giggled and beat him with a pillow. She finally collapsed into laughter and sat beside Sebastian and gave him a side hug.

“Ominis.” Sebastian said flatly, clearly annoyed.

“Melody, how about you come sit over here with Meatball and leave Sebastian alone?”

“I wanna fight him!” She replied.

“No, you’re not going to fight Sebastian. What exactly did you drink?”

“Whiskeeeey! Garreth snuck it in.”

“If I sit here with you, will you get some sleep?”

“Yep.” She said happily.

“Here.” Sebastian tossed her an extra pair of his pajamas. “We’ll step out, you change, alright?”

“It’s fine!” Melody stood up and began unzipping her dress.

“Woah, woah! Ominis is blind, not me. Hang on.” Sebastian grabbed Ominis and hauled him out of the room.

“Was she taking her clothes off in front of you?” Ominis asked, red tingeing his cheeks.

“She just unzipped the top of her dress. It looked pretty uncomfortable, so I gave her some of my pajamas.”

“That was nice of you, considering she wanted to fight you.” Ominis smiled.

“Yeah, tomorrow I’m asking Garreth what exactly he snuck in, because she was aggressive.”

They both turned their heads at the sound of music inside. Ominis sighed. “What now?”

“Do we assume she’s dressed?” Sebastian asked.

“Hang on, stay out here.” He opened the door enough for Meatball to hear him.

“Did she put on the clothes?”

“Half of them. Just the top half.” He replied.

“Shit. She doesn’t have pants on.”

“You’re up, buddy.” Sebastian said, patting his shoulder.

Ominis sighed and pushed the door open. “Melody. Please put some pants on.”

“Too big! They fell off.”

“Her bottom is covered, if that’s your concern.” Meatball said to him.

“Fine. Sebastian, you can come in.”

Sebastian tentatively stepped into the room. Melody was dancing around wearing just his shirt, but due to their size difference, it was basically a nightgown on her. “Sebby! Dance with meeee!”

“Melody, you said you’d go to bed. Come on, time to rest.” Ominis said, guiding her to the bed. Sebastian flipped the music off.

“Stay with me.” She said.

“If I do, will you rest?”

“Yep.”

“Fine.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and he felt Melody crawl onto the bed beside him. She snuggled against his side and Meatball wrapped himself around them both.

“Aaaaaaw.” Sebastian said as Melody fell asleep.

“Don’t even.” Ominis glared.

#hogwarts legacy #fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy modern au #hogwarts legacy texting #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #meatball #meatball the snake #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy sebastian

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kelyon · 2 years

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TMI Tuesday!

Hey there, Tumblr!

Earlier this week, the lovely and talented @deliriumsdelight7 tagged me in a post of “5 Things You Never Get Tired of Writing.” I thought my list was complete, but I forgot to mention in the post that APPARENTLY one of the things I never get tired of writing is “Messy, Incomplete, Probably Incoherent Conversations.”

I’m kind of used to it by now. Spending all this time writing for two characters who have SO MANY FEELINGS and CAN’T ADMIT ANY OF THEM has given me a knack for this sort of conversation. The real trick comes from knowing that the conversation is incomplete. Sometimes it’s enough for characters just to be honest enough to argue, let alone come to any kind of constructive conclusion. It also helps for the author to know the context for the next messy conversation. That makes it easier to what step the characters are on in the arc of having a complete crisis.

Long story short, the next chapter of Dark Mistress is gonna be fun! Chapter 17 (Revelation) is... mostly?.... done. At least, I’ve sent it to my beta. Having the main set piece be an incomplete conversation kinda leads to the chapter itself feeling incomplete. Hopefully, it will leave the readers wanting more. There are a few answered questions in this chapter, but also plenty of unanswered ones.

Speaking of unanswered questions... Ask away! I’ve got snippets for anyone who wants one. I think there are still a few questions in my inbox from weeks ago. I really appreciate the patience of people who don’t see their questions get answered right away. Destroying the lives of fictional characters is hard work, so sometimes I have to put things on the back burner.

I hope you all have a wonderful day!

Dark Mistress is here

My inbox is here

#tmi tuesday #Dark Mistress

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ererokii · 3 years

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Sooo... This request thing. You're aweosme 👉👈

Ooh boy it's a long one (changed it a bit)

-Erens so cute when he purrs and when you mention his curiosity and twitching ears ears and gentle touch, so as not to hurt the reader.

-when he kinda is paying attention to, analysing the reader or protecting them its SO cute

-It would maybe end as like cuddles and things and just... Talking. To him and him grunting or just nodding or thinking replies.

-Maybe be at night.

-Maybe it would start with... Eren In human form.

-Maybe he figures out that you don't think his titan form is so ugly but still a little new and scary and that maybe you like it

- Bam if you can somehow NSFW that... Uhmm?

So he... Turns into a titan and then. Some NSFW or just. Maybe he like. Scares or teases the reader on purpose for a reaction?

-And then NSFW somehow if you wanna put that in. Sorry for the way I type I'm kinda doing it as it all appears in my head lol

-I like your cute, and desperate eren, but also attentive and caring. I haven't seen you write a very cheeky or playful titan eren so maybe that would be nice.

I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING THIS ONE. Here you monsterfuckers, take your TITAN SMUT.

WARNINGS: MONSTERFUCKING. Oral (f receiving), mention of voyeurism, overstimulation, dumbification, multiple orgasms, edging, characters are 18+.

If these themes make you uncomfortable or you rather avoid, please block the tag “AOT SMUT” WC: 1.7K

Also thank you to the amazing @galair for this beautiful art🥺 everyone go check her out

Eren stays deep within his thoughts as he hums to himself, staring up at the starry sky. His loose strands tickle the shell of his ear, itching to scratch away at it but refuses. He can’t recall the conversation before the silence. It’s always been on his mind, but he’s been inquisitive as to what you saw him as, even if he knew the answer.

Am I a monster to you? Or am I just like you?

You knew Eren was quite insecure with himself when it came to his titan powers; no matter how many times he asked you that, you always gave him the same answer.

You were never a monster; you’re just a broken human like me.

For some reason, that has never failed to put a smile on his face. Being able to categorize himself with humans made him feel complete, separate from the monster people used to call him when he discovered the powers.

But know that he’s aware (once again) of how you feel, does he scare you?

Maybe he could ask you--, but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood at all. Now that he thinks of it, he can’t recollect a moment where you’ve seemed scared to be in his presence, unlike other comrades who look like they’ll leak themselves any moment.

Without even thinking, he blurts out the question. His eyes widen slightly when he realizes the words slipped past his lips.

“Am I scared of your titan form?” you ask, glancing over at him as you sit up, staring down at him from your position. “I mean, it is always somewhat overwhelming to see something so much bigger than me, and when I sit in your hands but no, besides that, I'm not.”

“Do you think it’s ugly?”

“I don’t,” you say with a smile, legs crisscrossed. “I think it’s unique. You know, just for you. I think it’s quite cute and--” you trail off, glancing over to the side. “--somewhat hot,” you cough in between words, hoping he missed that.

“Hot?” he asks, a hint of smugness evident in his tone.” You think it’s hot?” he leans up on his elbows, a smirk curled at his lips. “Why is that?”

“W-Well, I’m not going to tell you that! That’s too personal.”

“What if I turned right now?”

“Y-You can’t! Captain Levi and Hanji would come to chew you out if you did!”

“Hanji gave me the go-ahead to transform whenever I wanted to, just not to cause destruction,” he gets up with a grunt, backing up a few feet back. By the time he was in position before you could speak, lightning struck the earth, the ground crumbling from the shock.

You dug your fingers into the ground, lowering your head from the gusts of wind. In no time, it calmed down as you avert your gaze upward, emeralds stare down at you from high above, brown tresses swooshing in the air.

“You did,” you breathed out, releasing your grip on the dirt. Your hands are unsteady, still trying to compose yourself from the sudden change.

He’s not moving, standing as still as a statue before he drops to his knees, the birds sound asleep in the trees now awake and flying away from the commotion. Your heart feels as if it could burst from the confinements of your chest.

Your left eye peeks open, cowering within yourself. Your body freezes when you see how close he is. His body is lowered to the ground; knees pushed in like a Sphinx. His eyes glow in the darkness, a new feeling taking over your body.

His heavy breathing fans over your face, his head cocked to the side as if he was examining your small figure. He finds humor in your expression, nudging your body with his nose.

From the small force added, it caused your body to get pushed back. His ears twitch, the tips sticking upward. He moves forward, doing it once more.

“Eren, quit it,” you huff, sticking your arms out to keep him from doing it again-- which he’ll end up doing too. There’s no doubt that in that nape, he’s having the time of his life.

He wonders what else he can do like this. He thinks for a minute, noises emitting from his throat. He sticks one of his hands out, shakily raising a finger, and places his hands in between your legs.

He catches your gaze, his tongue peeking as he leans forward, barely pressing the tip against the bare skin of your neck. The new sensation causes your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, eyeing the pink flesh before gulping lowly.

Eren pulls away, looking at your skirt that happened to ride up your legs. His eyes seem to darken as his mouth closes, teeth grinding against each other.

“Eren?” you question him as he inches closer, his head lowering slightly to the ground. You’re about to call for him again, but his tongue makes an appearance also, pushing the material up more. Your eyes enlarge, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt-- to which looks like fear in his eyes.

A noise of somewhat sadness comes from him, his ears lowering.

“N-No, it’s okay, Eren,” you stutter, face heating up from his motions. If you were honest, you could feel a small wetness pool in between your legs.

Before you know it, the tip of his tongue is in between your legs, the muscle lapping over your clothed cunt. Your arms are shaky as you let out a little gasp that sounds so cute to his ears; he can’t help but circle it around your clit.

A predatory look is in his eyes, looking down like you were his meal. The muscle goes sound, poking at your slicked entrance. Panting, you glance down at the position and pull your panties aside, shivering from the chilly wind and hot breathing in between your legs.

His jaw slacked; he works wonders on your needy cunt. The texture and saliva are enough to make you sensitive on the spot. Your eyes roll back as you chant his name, his tongue licking stripes up and down your folds, squelching noises occurring from his rapid movement.

Your legs are shaking from the overwhelming sensation. God, it’s becoming too much, but you can’t stop him, nor if you wanted to. You felt as if you would fall to the depths of the earth but yet stayed in reality.

The tip flicks at your folds, an incoherent noise getting stuck in the back of your throat when he begins to move it side to side rather than up and down.

You’re so needy for him at this point. You want him to stuff your tight cunt with his cock, to feel him stretch you out as he fucks you to no end. Having him do this to you was on another level of ecstasy, but you would accept it if this came up again.

The pressure he puts on your fragile body is enough to send you backward, but the way your heels dig into the ground and his gentle touches prevent that from happening. The slick left in between your thighs trickle down to your ass; the feeling becomes uncomfortable but erotic.

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, head falling back, staring up at the sky with lidded eyes. “Fuu..p-please don’t stop,” you slur, thoughts clouding with nothing but immense pleasure.

God, what if someone caught you? The adrenaline running through your body wouldn’t even let you care about that. But the thought of someone hearing you moan out pathetically as Eren licks away at your cunt, have you moaning out.

You wouldn’t be surprised if someone overheard. Eren’s tongue was a gift that meant to be cherished, even if that meant having him do this every day for you to get used to the sticky yet warmth radiating from the muscle.

The inside of your legs trembles, your head spinning in circles, rubbing small lazy circles on your puffy clit, desperate to be touched by his tongue. Your hole was being circled, his tongue barely pressing before retracting; the little shit was teasing you.

One of his fingers gently places over your leg to keep you from moving so much. His finger alone is enough to make you feel weighed down.

Your lips are moving, but nothing is coming out; no noise, no words. You’re completely out of it. Your fingers are clenching and unclenching around nothing, barely holding onto whatever it was you were. If someone were to ask you what day it was, you wouldn’t be able to tell the time of day or where you were at.

“ ‘M gonna cum,” your voice comes out soft yet needy, shifting your hips side to side, bucking your hips to the best of your ability. “I wanna cum on your tongue.”

His eyes flicker, a stripe licked up between your folds before resting on your clit-- a place that desperately needs attention.

Your delicate body is on the brink of defeat; an orgasm after orgasm washes over your body, and he shows no signs of stopping. You’re practically gushing at this point, your juices running down his jaw. You’ve made many feeble attempts to push him away; a growl would emit from him when you tried to do so.

Sweat trickles down your face into your clothes, causing the front of your shirt to stick onto your skin—short breaths of air, hiccups erupting from your throat. Your eyes roll back as your body finally gives out, falling backward onto his hand that was keeping you upright.

As you fall, a purring sound reaches your ears as his tongue finally retracts from your mess cunt, his eyes glancing at your slick sticking to you. His finger rubs the inside of your thigh, gently wiping away the transparent substance. His ears flicker as he listens to your heavy breathing, trying your best to catch the air that was taken away from you.

He lovingly nuzzles his nose against your patella, his dark tresses tickling your supple skin. After being pushed through multiple orgasms, you weren’t even sure if you could walk or get up from this position.

But he finally got his answer as to why you thought he was hot.

Taglist: @trafalgar-temptress @galair @shisoaya @eremiie @bakuhoesworld @sweetdanibear @blueelionn @grabakitcata @erenstellar @onyxoverride @vinishsama @cellarhapsodos @connieswifey @murmikaa (please message me to be added!!)

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader smut #Eren Jaeger x reader smut #tw: monster fucking #Titan Eren #Titan Eren smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on Titan x reader #shingeki no Kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren imagines #eren Jaeger imagines #aot smut

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in-ky · 3 years

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An Old Scent [2] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, angst, age gap, Negan, a bit of gore if you squint

A/N: ok so everything is written i'm just gonna stagger posting a little bit :') 2.7k words

The first thing I woke up to in the morning was a dull ache in my lower abdomen. Great. My heat was starting up again. Growing up, Bee always asked why I never went on suppressants. I always got a bad vibe from them. Then, a few years ago, a large brand got recalled because it was shown to cause cancer in a lot of different patients. Now suppressants were harder to come by, more regulated, and needed a doctor's prescription. A lot of omegas took the hit hard, but out of it came an influx of at-home ways to take care of your heats by yourself. Super helpful for a single girl like me. When my heats started to get really bad around my junior year of high school, Bee took me out on a shopping spree and got me a bunch of toys to try and satisfy myself. It worked for a while, but they got worse as the years passed. By my age, a lot of omegas were already claimed and had an alpha to help them through their heats. I was still relying on the toys Bee had bought me. The box was tucked neatly under my bed, waiting for me. I rolled over with a small groan and sighed. The heat wouldn't be in full swing for another few days or so, so I could still go to the courthouse with my dad. Speaking of, I heard Rick shuffling down the hall and slid out of bed, gathering my bathroom stuff and walking out of my room into the small tiled room to start the day.

~~~

"So you weren't at the garage on the night of the eight?" Negan hummed, leaning against the railing in front of the tv. His eyes were glued to the face of the man sitting on the stand. The poor guy was drenched in a nervous sweat, tight blue shirt sucking at his chubby neck. He swallowed thickly and leaned forward to the microphone.

"That's correct," he croaked.

"Oh, Jeremy," Negan chuckled, shaking his head and looking at his feet. "Don't you know perjury is a criminal offense?"

"I-I'm not lying!"

"Is that so?" The alpha held up the remote to the TV "I have some footage here that directly contradicts your story, man. One last chance." He wiggled the remote teasingly and raised his eyebrows. Jeremy held his ground. "Alrighty then, let's see what we have here." He took a step back and furrowed his brow at the remote and pressed a button. The screen in front of him came to life. I had to lean forward in order to see the video, but in reality it wasn't the security tape I was watching. It was him. I couldn't look away. He had dominated the room for the past hour and a half. His deep voice was never raised, but it still carried a commanding tone that had every person sitting on the stand shaking in their boots. My eyes trailed down his body. His suit clung to him in every perfect way. His hair was slicked back in its iconic style and the way his glasses perched on his face made my insides burn. Part of me regretted seeing him like this so close to my heat, but another part couldn't imagine if I hadn't. Rick leaned over and tapped my elbow.

"We've got him now for sure." He whispered in my ear. A smile formed on my lips as I nodded to him. There was a child-like joy on his face. He really did appreciate my presence. I turned my attention back to the video screen. The footage was fuzzy, but there was a clear figure of a woman standing still hunched over what I presumed was her phone. She was texting away, fingers flying over her screen. Suddenly a large figure, who had the same height and build as Jeremy, slunk out from the shadows. He slowly approached the woman from behind and raised a crowbar high above his head. He swung it down with brutal force. There were small gasps of horror from the jury and the crowd as the crowbar connected solidly with the woman's head. She collapsed in a heap, but Jeremy didn't stop beating her until she was a pile of mush. Negan clicked the TV off.

"Well, shit, Jeremy," He boomed "I do in fact think you are lyin' to me." He tossed the remote down on his table top and gave a grim scoff. "Everyone just saw you turn poor Miss Parker's head into your personal punching bag. You still wanna claim you were no where near there?" All of the color had drained from Jeremy's round face. He swallowed again, tugging at his restricting collar. But soon, his face turned a deep shade of pink and he slammed his beefy palms on the flat surface of the box he was sitting in.

"That bitch deserved it!" He howled, gasping for air. "She had no business-" He stopped when Negan raised his hand silently.

"I really don't care," He sighed, turning around and grinning broadly when he saw the defense team resting their heads in their hands in defeat. "I'll let the jury do the rest, your honor."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Smith." The judge said, voice prickling with annoyance. Negan returned to his bench and pulled out his seat. But before he sat down he gave Rick a small thumbs up. And I could have sworn that he flashed me a little smile as well.

~~~

"You were incredible in there!" I cheered, giving Negan a high five. The contact made my skin tingle, but I passed it off as the consequences of the impact. "You really made that guy tremble like a kid!"

"It's what I do," Negan chuckled deeply. He looked around me and furrowed his brow. "Where's your dad?"

"He's pulling the car around," I said "I just figured I should let you know how good you did before I leave." He was so close. He smelled so good. The same combination of whiskey and campfire that could get me drunk in a few breaths. I was so focused on his intoxicating musk that I didn't notice the group of alphas that were headed our way. Negan did, though. I heard a rumbling from his chest and felt a hand clasp around my shoulder. Confusion clouded my mind and I looked up to him for some answers.

"The next case is starting soon," He said smoothly "Let's go wait for your dad outside." I agreed and he steered me out onto the steps of the courthouse. The short skirt and heels I was wearing weren't exactly comfortable for walking down stairs, so I held onto Negan's forearm as he guided me down to street level. There was a small breeze and I saw his jaw tense as a soft gust of wind swirled up from behind me and into his body. It no doubt carried my scent on it, and an alpha like Negan could probably tell what state I was in.

"So," I sighed, looking to engage him further "What's next?"

"Well," He tilted his head and ran a hand over his bear-covered chin. "Jeremy goes to jail. Your dad and the department get praise. And I get to go to the bar for a celebratory drink." He paused for a moment, looking me up and down quickly. "You want to join me?" I opened my mouth to say something. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I was going to say. I didn't really drink, but I was willing to do absolutely anything that Negan wanted. But it was then that Rick rounded the corner and gave the horn a little honk.

"I would love to," I settled on "But dad has a full day of father-daughter fun times planned, and I don't really want to keep him waiting." I gestured awkwardly to where Rick was sitting in the car, bopping his head gently to incoherent music.

"Totally understand, doll." He grinned.

"Maybe another time, though?"

"For sure."

"See you around, Negan."

"Bye, doll, have fun. And be safe"

~~~

Negan was pleasantly buzzed, as per usual. He got off his motorcycle and hung his helmet on the handlebar before lightly stumbling into the house from the dark garage. The sight he saw he did not expect. There sat his fiancé in the living room, arms crossed over her chest with a pissed expression on her face. And beside her was a woman he knew all too well.

"The hell is goin' on here?" He asked, slurring his words slightly.

"I could ask you the same thing, Negan."

"Lucille, what the fuck is she doing in our house?"

"Oh, so you know her?" Lucille growled. Negan just licked his lips and flicked his gaze between the two women sitting in front of him. "Of course you do. You have been fucking her after all." Negan groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Baby, please-" He started, but Lucille cut him off.

"Don't you dare," She hissed, jumping to her feet and balling her hands into fists "You don't get to call me that after what you've done, Negan. You slept with another woman. Hell, maybe more than one. You ruined our relationship." Negan took a step forward but Lucille raised her hand and pointed to the kitchen table. "Don't take another step. Your stuff is in that box." Negan looked to see a cardboard box sitting alone in the dark kitchen, his belongings poking out of the top. "I never want to see you in my house again."

"Lucille, can't we just talk about this? You don't understand." He pleased, extending a hand to her. She batted it away.

"There's nothing to talk about." She spat "You cheated on me, Negan! What is there to understand? How can you expect me to forgive you for that?" A moment of silence passed between them. The other woman shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Negan glared at her before turning his eyes back to his now ex-fiancé.

"I have no where to stay." He whispered.

"That's not my problem." Lucille said boldly "Take your shit and leave. Don't come back. We're done."

~~~

I stirred the pot of spaghetti while humming a song I heard on a radio earlier. The father-daughter activities had consisted of driving around town and revisiting old spots we used to go to when I was younger. We got ice cream at the shop down the street and then watched the sun set at the park that we used to picnic at. It was nice. College did really fix our relationship. The TV in the next room hummed quietly and Rick was talking on the phone with someone. I heard him hang up and walk into the kitchen.

"Think there's enough in there for three?" He asks with a sigh, looking over my shoulder.

"Should be, why?" I return, meeting his gaze. He takes a deep breath and scratches his neck.

"Um, well, Negan's fiancé kicked him out of the house. Apparently she found out he was cheating on her. He doesn't have anywhere to stay." He mumbled "He's gonna be sleeping here for a bit." I stopped stirring. The water started to bubble too close to the top, but I blew a gust of air to push it down.

"Why here?" was all I could muster.

"He really helped me with your mom. It's the least I can do."

I just hummed in acknowledgement and returned to my cooking. So Negan was engaged. And he CHEATED on his fiancé? Maybe I didn't know Negan as well as I thought I did...

~~~

"I just can't believe she kicked me out!" Negan seethed, shoveling a spoonful of spaghetti into his mouth. He was still chewing when he continued. "She didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!"

"I hate to say it, but you did cheat on her, buddy," Rick said carefully, not wanting to poke the angry alpha in the wrong way "She's upset."

"I was in a rut." Negan growled.

"For four months?"

I was making a plate for myself, listening to the conversation from across the room. Rick's phone buzzed on the kitchen table and he picked it up.

"Sorry, I have to take this." He sighed, shaking his head and standing to his feet. He left the room and suddenly it was just me and Negan. I took my plate to the opposite head of the table, watching Negan wolf down his dinner.

"This shit is really good, sweetheart," He groaned. Normally, the noise would have sent me over the moon. But there were so many other emotions clouding my mind. "You ever consider changing your major to culinary arts?" I didn't say anything, just twirled my fork in my serving of pasta.

"Why'd you do it?" I said quietly, almost in a whisper. Negan paused instantly.

"What?"

"Why'd you cheat on her?" My eyes never left my plate but I could hear him shifting in his seat, rubbing his face while trying to answer my question.

"I don't know," He said. His voice was soft, sincere. Something I had never heard from him before. My eyes drifted up and met his. They were the same tawny color, but there was something else behind them. Something I couldn't distinguish. "I thought...Something was off in our relationship. I guess I thought that I could fix it by trying something different. I ran into Tanya at a bar a few months ago. She's a beta, just like Lucille. Wanted to be with an alpha. I gave in. Just for a quick fuck, didn't mean anything. I didn't like her. I told her that but...she...she wanted more, I guess. She fucking threatened me. Threatened to ruin my life unless I kept seeing her. I chose to do it. I don't know if that decision was the right one or not but it's the one I made. I texted her last night to tell her it was over. Never fucking thought she would come to my home." I was chewing the inside of my cheek the whole time he was speaking. I didn't know how much of his story was true, but he sounded like he was hurting.

"Why did you break it off?" I whispered.

"That's your damn question?" He scoffed, giving a short smile. He looked in my eyes. I knew the answer. Or at least I thought I did. He opened his mouth, but Rick reentered the room before he could say anything.

"Alright, sorry about that guys," He said, slipping back into his seat. "What did I miss?"

~~~

Negan was set up in the bedroom next door to mine. Our doors faced each other from across the hall. We would have to share a bathroom. Rick didn't seem to have a problem with it, but with my heat starting I wasn't too sure about the whole arrangement. I felt more cramps riddle my body. I was ready to bed, ready to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, but something called me across the hall. Curiosity got me and I turned slightly, walking up and leaning on the doorframe. There was Negan, clad in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, unpacking his things.

"Hey," I said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He turned around. He looked older like this, hair unkempt and his glasses on. When he saw me his lips curled in a smile. Any trace of vulnerability I had seen earlier was now gone.

"Hey to you."

"I just want to apologize for earlier," I said "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm also sorry that you have to be subjected to me and my dad for the foreseeable future." He let out a snicker and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, doll. And you're not that bad. I appreciate Rick; he's a good man." He scratched his beard and looked over at the clock next to the bed. "It's late, you should get some rest." He took a deep breath and I nodded. I turned to leave but he called my name softly. "You know I meant what I said last night, you are looking good." I smiled but didn't say anything and crossed the hall, shutting my door and hopping into bed.

#negan x y/n #negan x you #negan x reader #negan smith #alpha!negan #omega!reader #twd a/b/o #a/b/o kink #a/b/o dynamics

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insaneoldme · 3 years

Note

Can you rec buddie fics? Pretty please?

OMG it's my time to shine, bitches!!!

Sorry if I went a little nuts, but this fandom has some of the best writers I've ever seen. I have 186 Buddie fics bookmarked in my AO3,

I'll link here if you are interested in taking a look cause if I put them all here it would be too long. Also, I tried to show here some fics I very rarely see recced, and a little bit o the classics. This fandom has some very underrated authors, everyone in my bookmarks is worth taking a look really.

Please take a look at the warnings before reading, enjoy!!!

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies (Rated E )

Buck and Eddie had always been unconventional. Neither of them gave it much thought – they were just them. Buck and Eddie - partners, best friends, co-parents – just as entangled in each other’s lives as any actual couple in the 118.

Or, the story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

My Heart's Been Borrowed by ElvenSorceress (Rated E)

aka the one where Taylor gives Buck his ultimate fantasy and uncovers far more than either of them expected, forcing him to confront his long held feelings for Eddie

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by HMSLusitania (Rated E)

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) (Rated E)

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

Keep It On by R_E_R6 (Rated E)

When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by ElvenSorceress (Rated T)

Buck nearly loses everything and Eddie has to follow his heart

hungry for your love by evcndiaz (Rated G)

prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

or; breadsticks are a metaphor for love and boning

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests (Rated M)

A glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

when things fall into place by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Eddie asks Buck to move in with them during lockdown to help look after Christopher, which leads to certain unresolved feelings being resolved.

Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not.

Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts.

Except for how... he might not.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates (Rated E)

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.

But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back.

He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

ripples all the way down by iriswests (Rated M)

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings (Rated M)

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Hi, I’ve never made a Reddit post before and I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing but I need advice and can’t ask anyone in my real life. So, I [30M] have this best friend [34M]…

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea (Rated M)

“You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.

And that makes Eddie frustrated.

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea.

Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right?

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

Memorable by JessicaMDawn (Rated T)

Six times Buck got recognized by people he saved during the tsunami, and how his team realized he was a hero.

All Bets are Off by NobodyKnows_U (Not Rated)

Or, the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it.

fire on fire by extasiswings (Rated T)

Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.

Better Together by Randomfandombloggs09 (Not Rated)

5 times Eddie sees Buck wearing his last name and 1 time its not just his

Daddy and Pops by EdithBlake (Rated M)

When Christopher calls Buck 'Pops' things get a bit confusing. Buck and Eddie have a talk with Christopher that ends up with both of them being even more confused by how right it sounds.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (Rated E)

unknown sender: Hi!

unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.

unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.

sent: hey um

sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but

sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

the dream you wish will come true by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Christopher Diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when Evan Buckley is right there.

vienna waits for you by mottainai (Not Rated)

Eddie doesn't deserve a soulmate.

Work Husband by hideeho (Rated T)

“What...what have you done with Buck?” Eddie is going to kill him for messing with his phone. No, that’s too extreme. He’s going to maim him. Just a little.

“Check under H,” Chim offers helpfully, shooting a look over to Hen with a smirk.

Why the hell would he be under—

Then he sees it.

Husband.

Bad Neighbors by firstdegreefangirl (Rated E)

Eddie's new neighbors are keeping him up all night. He calls on his best friend for a little taste of their own medicine.

Cross the Line by Sirencalls (Rated E)

Eddie laughs, short and quiet and almost to himself. “No. If you want to learn, then I’m gonna be the one to teach you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain stops working. “What? Why?”

Eddie turns to look at him and steps closer, their chests only a few inches apart. “Because there are people out there who will take advantage of how naïve you are. They’ll hurt you, and I won’t.” Eddie’s eyes are so intense that Buck doesn’t have any choice but to believe him. “If you want someone to do this for you, to—to dominate you, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

pretty in pink by dykeevans (Rated E)

Buck forgets that he and Eddie made plans to hang out until Eddie shows up and Buck's in the middle of laundry day.

His laundry day outfit consists of a small pink crop top and grey sweatpants.

Eddie loses his damn mind. Me too, though, me too.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies (Rated G)

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him.

“That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him.

-or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Something Old, Something New by dumbhuman (Rated E)

“Damn, I love weddings!” Buck’s face lit up as he closed the door.

If asked later, Eddie wouldn’t have been able to explain what came over him in that moment to make him ask the question. Or, at least, he wouldn’t have wanted to explain. The exhaustion was an easy excuse, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t a real one.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

one of the few things by thatnerdemryn (Rated G)

five times that Eddie tells someone else that Buck is Christopher's legal guardian plus one time he finally tells Buck.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu (Rated T)

“Why is everybody taking my relationship status so personally? Can’t I be fine with being single?” Buck said.

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes, be sad and alone if that’s what you want,” Josh replied. “But, I’m just saying. I’ve seen photos and this guy is volcanic levels of hot. Also, single dad, super cute kid. Saves lives for a living like you. I think you should give it a go.”

(the one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there)

Keeping It In The Family by Wolves_of_Innistrad (Rated T)

A young man shows up at the firehouse looking for Buck. Turns out Javier was a Bartender with Buck in Mexico. He’s back in LA, looking to reconnect and very flirty. Cue Eddie realizing Buck is not as straight as he thought.

kiss me (like your ex is in the room) by rebeccaofsbfarm (Rated E)

Eddie Diaz gets drunk and protective and signs up for a fake double date to get back at his friend's ex.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania (Rated M)

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is… missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home

All my Buddie AO3 bookmarks

As I said this fandom has some very talented people, some of my favorite Authors's Tumblrs below, I recommend all the things they wrote and their blogs are very good.

@elvensorceress, @hmslusitania, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings

For gifs:

@arrenemris, @skylessnights (very lovely AU gifsets)

@from-nova(good gifs & content)

For Podfics: @mistmarauder everything she ever read is amazing, her podfics are high quality and she has a very lovely voice and her presence calms me down lol I recommend it

I'm sorry there are a lot more people but I'm kinda in a rush haha most of the people I follow are amazing, but the ones I mentioned here are enough to get you started or entertained for a while.

Buddie fics are amazing, this pairing has spoiled me so much, everyone I met because of it is nice and so active and talented.

Sorry mutuals if I forgot someone!

I hope I helped Anon, have fun!

(Tell me if any link is wrong please, thanks)

#buddie #buddie recs #recs #fic recs #911 on fox #911fox #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #ao3

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meltwonu · 4 years

Text

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ heavy ✦

this chapter pairing; snakehybrid!woozi&bunnyhybrid!dino x reader

genre&warnings; Snake Eyes!AU, threesome, dom!jihoon, oral(fem receiving), fingering, creampies, cum eating/cum sharing, breeding kink, dirty talk, but also a bit of crack lbr, jihoon and chan being little shits 😩😭.

notes; you don’t have to have read Snake Eyes to read this! It’s not part of the main plot! 💕🐍 also the--☠️ draft for this was literally from 2013 and I literally ran it through the hot setting on the washing machine and put it in the dryer 3 times to get it to what it is today ☠️ Also!!! the final chapter of Monster Mash!!! omg!!! I can’t believe it’s done AND to end it with a Snake Eyes au chapter!! 😭😩 Enjoy!! Have a great rest of the weekend!!! I love u!! Happy Halloween!! 🎃👻 💕

word count; ~4300

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

it’s heavy;

heavy how i want you so bad

heavy when it hits me so fast;

heavy and it’s driving me mad

that i’m never gonna give you up!

“OH MY FUCK--GOD!” A shrill voice cuts through the nearly empty living room; three forms huddled together on the sofa as the horror movie continued on the tv screen.

“Are you serious right now, Jihoon? Nothing even happened yet and you screamed!!” You tease.

You’d come to learn that Jihoon quite actually hated horror films.

And apparently so did Chan.

Your eyes scan over Jihoon’s frame squished into your side as his own eyes leave the tv for the 60th time that night; his grip on your waist tightening as he digs his face into your shoulder. “I can’t do it, I’m trying to look at the corner of the screen but I just know something’s going to pop out, I just know it, I--”

“Hyung, she’s right you know, nothing’s even--FUCK WHAT WAS THAT!?” Chan jolts at the screen, his own arms tangling with Jihoon’s around your waist in fear as the demon in the movie re-emerges from a dark closet.

You sigh, wondering why Minghao and the others hadn’t replied to any of your calls and messages; leaving you alone with Jihoon and Chan on this dark and rainy Halloween night. And you loved Jihoon with your whole heart and taking care of cute Chan was always fun but everyone being missing and unreachable seemed a little peculiar.

Even to you.

“You guys, it’s not even real. Look, c’mon, nobody is going to pop out of the closet later. I’m sure Mingyu would kill whatever came crawling out of the closet Jihoon and Chan, do you even have a closet for demons to come out of?” You tried to lighten the mood and reassure them as you pry their clammy fingers from your midsection.

They simultaneously shoot you a glare, crossing their arms as you separate yourself from their bodies.

“I really don’t get how you two are so easily scared by these horrible movies!”

Chan pouts, “Well hybrids exist so surely demons do too!” You shoot him a dumbfounded look, “That literally has zero correlation.”

“Whatever, I’m gonna grab more popcorn and I’ll be back.” Jihoon grumbles; eyes avoiding the screen as he scurries off to the kitchen.

The horror movie continues to play, small whimpers and screams coming from both of the boys on either of your sides.

You still don’t understand why they thought watching a horror movie on a rainy night was a good idea but they were determined to finish it by this point. And you, on the other hand, were getting bored. Horror movies weren’t that bad for you and you slept perfectly fine afterwards so you weren’t worried.

Unfortunately for Jihoon and Chan, that was not the case.

Jihoon had cocooned himself into a blanket with only his eyes peeking out and Chan had stolen one of the sofa pillows and had used it to hide behind when a scary scene was taking place. Biting your lip, you turn to each of them, watching as their eyes stay glued to the TV.

“Hey, if you two are so scared, why don’t we just turn the movie off. You’ll regret it if you can’t sleep later… And Minghao might kick my ass if he knows I let this happen to Chan.” You offer. Jihoon clears his throat, agreeing that maybe it was a bad idea to continue while Chan already started to reach for the remote tucked under the mass of snacks nearby.

As soon as he hits the power button, a bolt of lightning flashes outside causing the power to suddenly blow.

“Fuck! The demon’s here, I knew it, it’s because we watched the movie! We’re done, oh god, I haven’t even lived that long and Minghao hasn’t even taken me to a theme park yet and I--”, Chan cries, throwing the remote control haphazardly across the room as he tugs his fluffy ears down in panic. He immediately turns to you, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he continues to ramble incoherently against your skin.

On your other side, Jihoon has gone completely silent as one of his hands searched the dark for one of yours; his eyes completely closed in fear of seeing something in the dark that he didn’t want to see. You attempted to wrap an arm around each of them as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, their forms drawing even closer and molding to your body.

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m shocked that you two are so scared of the dark right now.”

The only real light coming in was from whatever little bit of moonlight was visible through the clouds as you stared at the blobs glued on your sides. “Let’s be fair here. We just watched a horror film where things lurked in the dark, can you cut us some slack!?” Jihoon scream-whispers as Chan nods against your shoulder, “Jihoon-hyung’s right, I’m not normally scared of the dark!”

You pat him on the head, running your fingers through his hair as he leans into your touch.

Jihoon unwraps from your hold a few moments later, his eyes adjusting to the dark against his will as he clears his throat.

“We--Maybe we just need a distraction, that’s all… I’m sure the power will come back on soon, or maybe one of the others will come see if we’re ok. We just… We need to find something to do or else our minds will wander.” He suggests. You nod in the dark, raising an eyebrow, “Like, a game or something?” Jihoon hums back an agreement. The three of you sit in silence trying to think of anything to play but nothing comes to mind.

“I can’t think of anything, Jihoon.”

Chan sighs, raising his head from your shoulder. “We could play that one game, y’know, ‘are you nervous?’ I heard Minghao-hyung talking about it! All we do is touch or do things to each other until someone chickens out! It could be anything!” You could hear a smile in his voice that almost made you smile until you heard Jihoon scoff.

“That sounds like fun until something grabs you and it’s not me or her, Chan.” Jihoon deadpanned.

You can only grimace knowing that comment went straight to Chan’s head. “Why on god’s green earth would you say that, hyung!?” An exasperated noise leaves Chan’s mouth as he lets go of you, arms flailing off of the sofa before he gasps and balls up again. “Oh my god, what if something grabbed me just now, would you have done anything to save me?” You had no idea who that question was directed to but you replied with a simple “yes”.

“Are we going to play or what? The more I sit here, the more I start seeing demons in the kitchen over there, to be honest.” Jihoon was getting restless, his fingers gripping your shirt. “We don’t have anything to do anyway, we need to get our minds off this power outage, and the potential demon. I think Chan especially needs it, he seems to be losing it more than I am.”

You can only nod in agreement; after all, what could go wrong. “Should I start then?”

It’s silent for a beat before Chan speaks up. “I’ll do it!”

Even in the dark, you can see Chan sitting up on his knees as you turn to face him slightly. He pushes your shoulder, causing you to crash into Jihoon; your back to Jihoon’s chest as his legs open wider to accommodate your figure. It’s a little uncomfortable on the sofa, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind. “Are you nervous?” You can almost hear the smirk in Chan’s voice and although you were confused with the shift in the atmosphere and maybe a tiny bit concerned at where this was leading, you didn’t voice it.

“Not at all, Channie. Should I go next?”

Jihoon and Chan both make noises of agreement as you considered your options. You really didn’t know what to do, so you simply placed your palm down onto Jihoon’s sweatpant clad thigh and squeezed. A garbled noise leaves his lips and you can hear the stutter in his breath. “Jihoonie, are you nervous?” He’s silent for a little too long before he replies with a slightly breathless ‘no' and asks if it was his turn.

You nod, feeling his arms come around your waist as he rests his head in the crook of your neck; lips lightly trailing up behind your left ear as he whispers a simple “nervous yet?” before kissing the shell of your ear.

You had to admit, this was getting a little too hot too fast and you weren’t sure if this was the nature of the game but you weren’t mad about it.

“Um, n-no…”

Chan takes the lead, lips easing into a wide smile. “I’ll go next!” His fingers rests on your bare thighs, slightly prying your legs open as he makes space for himself between them; careful to avoid grabbing onto Jihoon’s legs.

By nature, you clamp your legs shut, trapping Chan’s hands in between as you yelp. “Hold on, wait, wait, wait, what is going on here!?” Your face burns red in the dark, almost glad the power was out so that they couldn’t see even though you already know Jihoon can feel the way your body warms up.

Neither of them knew how to answer, so you sat in silence; only your steady breaths heard as you sat between Jihoon’s legs with Chan’s hands trapped between your still clamped legs.

Chan clears his throat as he attempts to pull back his hands from between your legs. “I--um, uh, it--it was Jihoon-hyung’s idea! He told me to tell Minghao-hyung I was sleeping over and to not check in! And then he called Mingyu and told them to not check in either!”

“What!? Me!? Don’t you dare pin this on me, brat! We planned this together!”

Your mouth hangs open in shock, eyes threatening to fall out of your skull as they continue to argue. “I didn’t wanna do it! I told hyung it wouldn’t work! I told him we should’ve done it differently!” Chan cries; tossing his head back dramatically.

“Okay, both of you shut up! Jihoon, what is going on!?”

The snake hybrid groans from behind you, arms still locked tight around your waist. “Listen… I--It wasn’t supposed to go like this, okay? We were gonna finish the movie and then ask you if--if you wanted to, y’know, play with both of us. And don’t try to deny it, I know you think Chan is cute. I just wanted to treat you to something nice.”

Chan wiggles his fingers, still trapped in between your thighs. “But then it got all spooky instead and the power went out...” The bunny hybrid mumbles.

You could feel your body heating up at the thought of being between Jihoon and Chan. And in truth, you’d thought about it maybe once, but it was a fleeting thought that’d left your mind just as quickly as it’d entered.

“I--I mean, uh, I mean, I’m okay with this b-but Jihoon, are you really okay with this? You don’t have to--”

“I’m fine with this, too.” Jihoon cut in, his arms squeezing your waist tighter.

A thankful sigh escapes Chan’s lips as he chuckles, “Thank god. I’m not gonna lie, I’m already a little hard....” You can see his face clearly now that your eyes completely adjusted to the dark.

“We literally haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Shut up, hyung!”

“Ngh… C--Chan…”

Your fingers tangle into his hair, careful of his ears as he dips his tongue into your entrance. Jihoon continues to nuzzle at your neck, appreciating your warmth as the younger hybrid works your body up for the both of them.

“She likes it when you use your fingers, y’know. And if you curl them just right, it makes her feel really, really good.” Jihoon guides. His lips ease into a lazy smirk when Chan listens eagerly and brings his fingers to your folds; using your wetness to coat them before he positions his index and middle fingers at your entrance. “Can she take two at once?” Chan asks, voice almost eerily innocent to which Jihoon chuckles under his breath - the action making you shiver at how easily the two of them seemed to get along so well in this situation.

“Of course, she can. She’s always so good about taking my cock. I bet I could slide right into her tight ‘lil pussy right now. Couldn’t I, baby?”

You nod shakily as your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of Chan’s fingers sinking into you slowly. He curls them almost immediately and you mewl and squirm as Jihoon’s grip on you tightens. “Oh, she’s so tight around my fingers already, hyung~” Chan murmurs. He thrusts his fingers into your hot cunt, tongue on your clit when he finds that you seem to like that best.

“Hmm~ Look at your favorite bunny hybrid trying to please you. Fingers knuckle deep while he teases your clit with his tongue. Are you gonna cum for him?” You let out a choked noise at Jihoon’s words and your fingers lock tighter into Chan’s hair when he taps your g-spot, wiggling his fingers inside of you to stretch you out.

“Oh, g-god, yes!”

Chan sucks your clit between his lips and Jihoon has to hold you down tighter as you try to grind against Chan’s face.

Jihoon’s fingers start to roam and squeeze you through your shirt; delicate fingers pinching your nipples as you mewl at the sensations they were making you feel. It was one thing to have Jihoon’s hands all over you but now that Chan was added to the mix, you found yourself getting addicted to the excitement that flooded your senses.

“A-ah, Chan…” The sound of you softly calling his name has him immediately pulling off of you, lips glistening with your wetness when he peers up at you through the dark.

“Hyung, am I allowed to fuck her?” Chan questions quietly. The snake hybrid bites the inside of his cheek.

His possessive nature screamed no, but the other part of him already felt his cock throbbing at the thought of you getting fucked by someone else and getting filled with so much cum from the both of them that it’d be spilling out of you.

Jihoon’s throat feels dry at the thought alone.

“Yes. Fuck her tight ‘lil cunt and fill her up with cum. We’ll breed her so fuckin’ good she’ll be begging us both for more.” Chan giggles innocently; a complete contrast to the way his eyes burn with unadulterated lust when he leans in close to your face.

“Ah~ Minghao-hyung always complains about me rutting against the pillows. Says my libido is too high, but I just can’t help it~ Finally, I get to fuck your tight cunt and I get to cum inside you and fill you up with my cum instead of just using my hand and making a mess on the sheets!” He grins.

Christ, Chan was really oblivious to the way his words affected you.

“Ngh, please, one of you j-just fuck me already~” You whine.

Jihoon’s fingers tug on your shirt, helping you lift it off of you as you’re finally completely bare to them both. His fingers immediately go back to teasing your chest as Chan sits up proper between your legs, pushing his sweats and underwear down. “Hyung, are you sure this is a one time only thing?”

You mewl as Jihoon pinches your nipples hard; nails digging into his clothed thighs in return. “We’ll talk about it later, Chan.” He replies easily.

Chan wraps a firm hand around his cock, moaning as he spreads the precum all down his shaft. “Mmh, I really need to fuck you now.” He mutters.

“D-do it…” Whimpering, you try to spread your legs a little more given the small space. “Mmh, m-maybe taking it to the bedroom, ah, might’ve been a better i-idea.”You mutter.

Chan pouts, trying to get comfortable as he rubs the head of his cock through your folds, tapping your clit as you cry out in pleasure. “No, what if something grabbed one of us on the way there?” He retorts.

Jihoon laughs under his breath, eyes focused on the way your chest rises and falls in anticipation.

Chan lets out a shaky moan as he sinks his cock into your tight warmth, brows furrowing when he can already tell that he won’t be able to hold himself back. “Ah, you’re so--so tight…” He whines. His cock was a little shorter than Jihoon’s but just as thick to stretch you out to your liking.

He gives you a second to adjust before he skillfully draws his hips back and slams his cock into you. “Fu---fuck, she feels so good, I--I don’t think I can h-hold back…” His hands are on your thighs keeping your spread; biting into his bottom lip. “Ngh, please--please tell me I can fuck y-you harder!”

Jihoon smiles, snaking a hand down to your clit as he starts to roll the nub between his fingers slowly. It makes your pussy clench down harder onto Chan who lets out a choked whine at the feeling of your walls clamping down onto him in a vice grip. “Well, baby? What do you want? Tell your cute ‘lil bunny.”

Chan’s cock curves into your g-spot perfectly and with Jihoon’s fingertips teasing your clit, your head already starts to feel fuzzy. “Mmh… ah, y-yeah, fuck me h-harder, Chan… I wanna feel y-you...”

He whispers quiet thank you’s into the dark; hips slamming into you as Jihoon keeps you locked in his hold. Soft whines and moans spill from Chan’s lips and for a moment, it makes you wonder if he always sounded like this when he was alone and rutting against his pillow.

And almost as if Jihoon can read your mind, his sultry, lust filled eyes watch Chan’s cock fucking into you as he whispers, “How’s she feel, Chan? Better than rubbing your cock against the sheets? Or how about your hand?” The younger hybrid whines, cock throbbing as he already feels himself close to an orgasm.

“She---She, hah, feels so w-warm and wet… S-Shit, I’m going to think a-about this whenever I, ah, need to g-get off…” He licks his dry lips, committing to memory how your pussy felt around him. “It’s n-not gonna be the s-same when I’m alone…”

“Enjoy it while you can, bunny~” Jihoon teases. He takes his fingers off of your clit, nipping at the shell of your ear. “As for you, don’t cum, baby.” You nod shakily, realizing that at least that much was still only reserved for Jihoon.

Instead, Jihoon continues to provokes Chan, soft giggles on his lips when he sees the bunny hybrid struggling to stave off his orgasm. “Ah, hurry and fill her up with your cum~ I bet it’s been so long since you’ve cum, huh? You probably have a lot ready just to breed her tight little cunt too.”

His own words prove to do damage to himself when he feels his cock throbbing in his sweats; he really needed Chan to hurry up. And Chan doesn’t fare any better himself; airy whines and groans filling the air as he feels his abdomen tightening the more Jihoon continues to speak.

“Fu--fuck, I’m--I’m cumming!” Chan cries, hips pistoning into you at a breakneck speed as he fucks his cum deeper and deeper into you. Your body jerks between them both, choked whines of your own mixing with his as you do your best to not cum either which proves hard when Jihoon starts to coax you too.

“Mm, bet it feels nice and warm, huh, baby? Hot cum filling up your ‘lil cunt, waiting for me to cum inside you too so you’re full of both of us.”

“Jihoon…” You whisper, hips moving against Chan’s as he rides out the remnants of his orgasm. You can already feel the cum sliding out of you from around Chan’s cock and your mind turns to putty at the thought of Jihoon still fucking you and making you cum.

“Alright, bunny, time for you to move.” Chan nods slowly in return, thrusting into you one more time as the two of you share a moan. “Okay, okay, move!” Jihoon grumbles.

He realized it’d take days if not weeks to get Chan’s smell off of you.

Not that it was a problem. He always had ideas in store to make it easier.

Chan slides his cock from inside of you, watching as the cum drips down onto the sofa in large globs. He licks his lips, already itching to get his hands back onto you as he starts to move back.

Jihoon slowly unwraps his arms from around you and moves to switch places with Chan who tugs his own sweatpants back up. “Can I take a shower after this?” He asks quietly.

The snake hybrid exhales harshly through his nose as he replaces Chan between your legs, pushing his sweats and underwear down in one swift motion. “We’ll all go shower after this, now hold her still.” Chan nods, ears flopping atop his head; satisfied for now.

He wraps his arms around your midsection much like Jihoon had done, chin nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he watches Jihoon running his cock through the mix of your wetness and Chan’s cum. “Mmm, hyung’s gonna make sure our cum stays inside your hot cunt~ ‘Cause you need to be bred, y’know? Ah, Jihoon-hyung’s so lucky~ He gets to breed your pretty pussy whenever he wants~”

Jihoon’s jaw clenches tight, a hand placed firm on your thigh as he uses Chan’s cum as lubrication when he eases his cock into you. “Fuck, you’re so wet!” He growls; already starting a quick pace as he chases his high.

He’d waited long enough.

“Ah, you’re so warm too, you feel so good, baby…” Jihoon pauses, licking his lips as his eyes meet yours in the darkness. “And all mine, right?” He thrusts into you particularly hard for emphasis; almost daring you to say anything different.

“G-god, yes, yes! I’m y-yours, ah!” Chan slithers a hand down your torso, fingertips on your sticky and swollen clit as he starts to pinch and roll the nub between his fingertips. You clench around Jihoon; overwhelmed with the urge to cum as they both stimulate your body.

“Why don’t you cum for Jihoon-hyung, hmm? Cum around his cock and milk him for all he’s got~” You mewl at Chan’s words, toes curling as you and Jihoon both feel each other close to the edge. Jihoon’s cock curves into you perfectly and hits all of the right spots inside of you that have you bucking your hips to match his thrusts.

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel the tension in your body threatening to snap at any second.

“Jihoon, I---”

“I know, baby. S’okay. Cum with me.” His voice is breathy and raw as he, too, feels his cock throbbing inside your tight heat.

Chan and Jihoon work in tandem as your rushed cries of Jihoon’s name start to roll off of your tongue and his thrusts become erratic; groans on his own lips as the two of you cum at the same time. Jihoon doesn’t stop his quick pace either, instead, doubling it as he fucks his and Chan’s cum further into your pussy.

“Shit, that’s right, hyung. Breed her fuckin’ cunt.” Growling, Chan pinches your clit as you let out a high pitched whine.

“J--Jihoon, please, please, pl--please b-breed me! Get m-me full of your c-cum!” You cry; delirium mildly settling in as his hot cum paints your walls and spills out of you from around his cock.

“Ngh, that’s---that’s right, baby. Beg me to fill you up, hah, just like you like it.” Jihoon starts to slow down his thrusts just as Chan starts to ease his fingers off of your clit and you sob quietly at the bliss that continues to wash over your body.

Your chest rises and falls in deep breaths as the remnants of your orgasm start to ebb off and you immediately slump against Chan’s warm chest as the tiredness starts to overtake you. “Fuh--fuck, ‘m so full o-of cum…” You whine.

The two hybrids can only groan in unison.

Jihoon starts to slide his cock out of you; licking his lips when he sees how much cum spills from your spent pussy. “Ah, such a waste.” He comments.

“Wait, wait!” Chan catches your attention and Jihoon’s when he starts to move from behind you. Jihoon shoots the bunny hybrid a confused look when he ushers for Jihoon to move again. “Just trust me, hyung.”

They switch places one last time as you rest against Jihoon’s clothed chest, eyes focusing on Chan who kneels in between your legs.

“Hey, can I kiss her?”

You blush as Jihoon narrows his eyes at the other male. “Only one time. Make it good.”

Chan smirks as he immediately dives headfirst in between your thighs; lapping up the cum that spills out of you and onto the sofa. You latch your fingers into his hair by reflex, sharp cries on your lips from the oversensitivity as Chan collects the mixed cum on his tongue.

Jihoon has to admit, he’s a little impressed.

Once Chan deems it enough, he holds the cum in his mouth as he pulls away from your cunt and your hands fall from his hair.

You watch through hazy eyes as he stops when he’s face to face with you; smiling at you angelically. He leans in, lips pressed firm against your own as you moan into the kiss. And once your lips part, Chan’s quick to push the cum into your mouth; a little dripping down your chin at the messy way his tongue pushes it in.

He pulls away once all of the salty substance is out of his mouth; a trail of saliva and cum connecting your lips as Jihoon whistles in amazement.

“Wow, can’t say I saw that one coming.”

Your cheeks flush and Jihoon enjoys the warmth that radiates from you in between their bodies.

Chan smiles at you innocently again; reverting back to his sweet bunny-like nature.

“Can we find some candles and go shower now, please?”

#snakehybrid!woozi #woozi smut #dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi scenarios #dino scenarios #dino imagines #woozi imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #monstermash!svt #hybrid!svt #hybrid!seventeen

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kurt-nightcrawler · 4 years

Text

Baby Bird

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request: i kinda had this idea for a warren x reader and if you were intrested or had time i’d be very appreciative 👉👈. (warren has his apocalypse wings) so the reader is a new student she’s very like shy and timid but very sweet and her only friend is jean, she just like refuses to converse with others. and her gift is her wings and they’re exactly like warren’s except black (kinda like he was the bad boy with white angel wings and she’s the good girl with black wings,sorry i love opposites 😂) and be just hates her because it’s a reminder of his old wings and mistakes. fast forward to like a day at school or party someone is messing with r because she never shows off her wings and then like push her or something and jean freaks out and tells warren r doesn’t know how to use her wings (super sad childhood with very anti-mutant parents) so then warren saves her and they talk more and get closer.

A/N: this is so late! I am so sorry! But I am finally getting around to all my requests and this wasn’t in my ask box so it got kind of lost and I forgot about it for a hot minute! I hope you enjoy it though! 🥺💛

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: underage drinking, teasing, anxiety, and mentions of poor home life

“Your grades are phenomenal, yet your class participation is lacking.” (Y/N) picked at her nails, looking down. Xavier called her into his office to “discuss her grades” but she knew that was the last thing on his mind. “I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with, but at some point, everyone has to socialize.”

Her head shot up, “I do! I do socialize.”

Sure, she ate lunch alone under the trees, would rather be alone than have a partner for class projects, and she didn’t have many friends— but she was new! Being the new kid was hard. Not to mention her parents were more than thrilled to get rid of her and her wings.

Her big, black, feathery wings, that she didn’t even know how to use! She hid them under baggy sweaters, no matter the weather.

Xavier gave her a look, “You don’t have any friends and you hide your beautiful wings.”

“Dr. McCoy and Mystique hide their true selves… and if Kurt had the chance he’d want to look normal too.” Charles sighed. “Look, um, Professor, I do— I do have friends.”

“Who?”

“Jean Grey.”

Saying Jean was her friend wasn’t a lie— however, Jean was her only friend. (Y/N) didn’t like to talk, and Jean read minds— easy friendship right there.

Jean had other friends and even a boyfriend. (Y/N) felt like she weighed her down or was charity work, but Jean always said otherwise.

Sometimes (Y/N) would sit with Jean and her friends. They were all kind and welcoming, despite her not saying anything. The only one who seemed standoff-ish was Warren.

Warren was tall and extremely handsome. Jean had teased (Y/N) for losing her train of thought more than once for looking at Warren and thinking he was pretty.

He had these huge metal wings and tattoos on his face. (Y/N) thought they could possibly be friends, mostly because they both had wings, but that didn’t go so well…

—

The one day (Y/N) wore a t-shirt, with holes in the back so she could flaunt her wings, everyone looked at her. She didn’t like the attention, but she couldn’t blame them for staring.

Jean’s friends showered her with a mixture of surprise and compliments with her wings.

“Can I touch them?” Peter asked. (Y/N) nodded, making eye contact with Warren for a moment.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. (Y/N) quickly looked away and frowned. Everyone liked her except for Warren.

Was he the honest one of the group though? What if all of Jean’s friends actually hated (Y/N)? What if they just put up with her because Jean made them? She was sure Scott didn’t like her much either, even if he never showed it. He was dating Jean and her friendship with (Y/N) probably cut into their time… Oh, God… They just think my wings are neat and soon as I stop showing them they’ll get bored of me…

Warren was glaring at something, and then he got up as left. Just like that!

“Is he okay?” (Y/N) asked Jean.

“He’s just being dumb. You know how boys are.” (Y/N) nodded, but she was pretty sure Warren wasn’t just “being dumb”. He probably hated her.

—

It was finally the weekend, and (Y/N) was hunched over her books on a Friday night. Normal for her, as Jean and her friends usually went out somewhere.

A knock at her door interrupted her work time, and she opened it to find Jean and Jubilee standing in the doorway. Jubilee was bouncing and had a bag in her arms.

(Y/N) let them in. Jubilee set the bag on the floor and started going through it— it was full of makeup and hair stuff. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to a party tonight, and you’re coming with us.”

(Y/N) glanced over to her work pile, “But I’ve got a paper due—”

“Two weeks from now. I have the same class.” Jubilee answered.

“Jean…” She whined.

“One night out won’t kill you. Neither will a little makeup and a cute outfit.”

“What?”

“Here, put this on.”

She examined the lump of fabric in her hands.

It was a dress.

“People will see my wings!”

“Yeah, that’s like the whole point,” Jubilee said.

(Y/N) sighed and slipped off her sweater, putting the dress on in its place.

“You look so pretty!” Jubilee cooed.

“Thanks.” (Y/N)’s immediate reaction was to fold her wings in tightly to her back, so they weren’t visible from the front.

“Relax,” Jean told her, soon as she noticed what (Y/N) was doing. Jubilee signaled her to sit down on the floor next to her, amidst a hundred different makeup products.

“I’m just gonna do some light, subtle makeup. Enough to enhance your features.”

“Thanks?...” The brush tickled (Y/N)’s skin, making her nose scrunch up.

“Relax your face. This doesn’t hurt.”

“Sorry. Sorry…”

“It’s okay.”

—

Everyone somehow managed to fit in one car— except for Kurt and Peter, they were racing to see who could get to the party first— Jean and Scott in the front, Warren, Jubilee, Ororo, and (Y/N) in the back.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but notice Warren looked a little flushed, “Is Warren okay?”

“Yeah, why?” Jean asked.

“His face is flushed. Is he just like, hot or something?”

“Or something…” Jean smiled, trying to act nonchalant. (Y/N) gave her a deadpan look through the rearview mirror. “I can’t tell you, but he’s fine.”

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Scott asked, looking back at her through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah.”

Scott nodded awkwardly.

—

Once parked, everyone quickly tumbled out of the car. Music could be heard from the inside. It was loud.

“I want to go home.”

“(Y/N) we just got here— dance with Jubilee or go sit outside with Ororo and Warren.”

“Warren doesn’t like me.”

“Not true… He’s just quiet.”

(Y/N) started to retaliate but Jean walked into the kitchen with Scott, and (Y/N) tried to not interrupt her time with her boyfriend, so she shut up.

Peter was playing beer pong with some kids. Jubilee and Kurt were dancing and both had cups in their hands. There was some wanna-be punk band playing.

(Y/N) decided to join them.

“Hey, (Y/N)!”

She waved her hand.

“You look nice,” Kurt said.

“Thanks.”

“I did her makeup,” Jubilee bragged.

Kurt giggled slightly, “Nice.”

The band was mostly playing covers, but they were pretty good. (Y/N) was letting loose and dancing along with Jubilee and Kurt.

I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah!

Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit…

I'm traveling at the speed of light.

I wanna make a supersonic woman of you!

(Y/N) accidentally hit Jubilee with her wings. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine! They’re soft anyways.”

Don't stop me, don't stop me, don’t stop me. Hey, hey, hey!

Don't stop me, don't stop me, ooh, ooh, ooh…

(Y/N) was actually enjoying herself. She was dancing and chanting incoherently along with the lyrics. She almost felt free.

The last time she had felt like this was as a child. Before her wings grew in. Before her parents deemed her a monster who had to hide. Before she lost everything she had. Before she decided to speak less was better for her.

She didn’t even think about any of it. She didn’t even think about how Jean was probably making out with Scott in a bathroom, or how Warren had been acting. She was having fun, and that was the only thing that mattered to her.

—

At some point during the night, (Y/N), slightly tipsy, made it up onto the roof with a few other kids. Everything was fine at first, but they were way too drunk.

“Why don’t you jump off the edge?” One of them asked.

“What?”

“Fly off the edge, birdie!” The other laughed. “Jump! Jump!”

“Jump! Jump!”

In the rooftop kids efforts to get (Y/N) to jump, people on the ground started chanting too.

“What’s going on?” Warren asked. Jubilee shrugged.

(Y/N) was terrified, wings folded in tightly to her back.

Jean came running up to Warren, “(Y/N) can’t fly! She can’t hear me either, she’s too nervous, lost in her own thoughts.”

Warren wanted to ask what he could possibly do, but he never got the chance.

(Y/N) fell off the roof.

Or maybe she was pushed off. Either way, it didn’t matter because she was screaming and falling and no one was doing anything.

Warren bolted and flew up so he could catch her in his arms. She looked so weak and tired in his arms. She was crying and his heart dropped seeing her like that.

Warren carefully brought her to the ground, making sure she could walk on her own. “Come here,” He gave her his jacket and wrapped an arm around her, letting her cry into his chest.

“I hated that—” She sniffled, “—I’m never doing it again.” Warren nodded understandingly, holding her close to his side.

“Let’s go home, okay?” (Y/N) nodded, still in a state of shock.

—

The halls of the mansion were like a ghost town, everyone was either out, asleep, or couped up in one of the many rooms. Warren and (Y/N) were alone as they walked up to her room.

“Why did you save me?”

Warren blinked, looking at (Y/N). She rarely spoke to or around him.

“Jean said you couldn’t fly.”

“Oh…” She avoided Warren’s eyes in embarrassment. So Jean told him to save me because I’m useless. Of course…

“You could have died, falling from that high up,” Warren’s voice was stern, but he wasn’t angry.

“Sorry…” She mumbled.

Warren furrowed his brows, “Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“I inconvenienced you…”

“What? No!” He stopped to stand face to face, holding one of (Y/N)’s hands. “You could never.”

(Y/N) felt fuzzy inside. Was she getting sick? Was she allergic to Warren? Why is he so nice? Why am I so nervous?

“I’d do the same for anyone.”

Oh. Yeah, no, he doesn’t really like me… nobody does… “Right.”

Warren noticed her mood change, but he didn’t call her out for it.

“I’m gonna go to bed. Thanks for bringing me home…”

“Of course…” He coughed for a moment, clearing his throat. “If you need anything, um, my room isn’t that far—”

“Thanks, Warren.” She forced a smile. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

—

Warren slipped off his t-shirt, discarding it on his desk chair. He laid in bed, thinking about (Y/N).

What if he hadn’t caught her in time?

He shook the thought away as he tossed in bed, slowly falling asleep.

Warren didn’t hate (Y/N). He just hated her wings… they reminded him of his old wings. The one thing he wanted most in life… his new ones were a constant reminder of his past mistakes, they were the wings of a monster.

But Warren had changed, or so he thought. He hated seeing (Y/N)’s wings, despite them rarely being out. He was jealous and angry. Mostly at himself.

But (Y/N) didn’t know how to use her wings…

That was strange to Warren. Maybe there was more to her than he thought.

—

(Y/N) awoke to a knock on her door.

“Hggggg… Just give me a minute.” She groaned. She rolled out of bed and opened the door.

“Jean? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay! We got back late and Warren said you were already asleep.”

“Oh… Well, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay… Do you wanna come down for breakfast?”

(Y/N) glanced at her pajamas. “Can I get changed first?...”

“You look fine! Most of the group is still in their pj’s anyway.”

“Okay.”

Jean led (Y/N) down the hall to the kitchen where her friends were. Most of them were chatting amongst themselves or shoving food into their mouths.

“Hangovers?” She asked.

“Yeah some, I’m surprised you don’t have one.”

“I never said I didn’t.” (Y/N) got herself a cup and a plate, taking some of the food and drink available.

“(Y/N), are you okay from last night?” Jubilee asked.

She nodded.

Peter let out a breath, “Thank God. Xavier would have killed us if you’d gotten hurt.” (Y/N) nodded again, trying to just focus on the food on her plate.

“You’re lucky Warren was there to catch you,” Scott stated.

“Yep.”

“Is everyone going to keep talking about last night?” She asked herself.

“Probably. You could have broken your legs, or sprained an ankle— plus people like to talk.”

“Gossip, you mean gossip.”

Jean didn’t respond, she was too focused on whatever Scott was saying. (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

Typical.

Warren trudged into the kitchen— his curls tangled, wings almost dragging against the floor, and he wore the world’s most wrinkled t-shirt— he looked like he didn't want to be there.

He opened up a cabinet and took out a mug. He closed the cabinet door and moved over near the coffee pot on the counter. He took it and poured plain, black, coffee into his mug.

Then he took a sip straight from the mug.

“There is creamer and milk in the fridge,” (Y/N) reminded him.

“I know.”

“Oh.”

(Y/N) focused on her plate again, trying to pretend the awkward interaction didn’t happen.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering—“ (Y/N) quickly looked up at Warren as he spoke. “I could like, help you learn to fly.”

“Um…”

“No one would see us. If you’re worried about that.”

“Oh my god! You should say yes!” (Y/N) quickly twisted her head over at Jean and almost gave her the finger, but Scott was watching. So she just glared.

She didn’t want Jean in her head all the time. Especially at a time like this.

She looked back at Warren, “Sure. I have nothing else to do.”

“Cool. I have some stuff to do, but I’ll get you in a few hours.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Sounds good.”

—

(Y/N) looked through her closet, trying to find something she could wear to fly in. Most of her tops weren’t exactly wing friendly. She sighed.

She didn’t even want to do this— she just wanted to hide her wings forever and move on from last night.

No. No, that wasn’t true in the slightest.

She needed to learn to use her wings, they were a part of her, whether she liked it or not. She had her old life ripped away from her in exchange for the big black heaps of feathers on her back, weighing her down every day. She had to embrace them somehow. They were all she had.

That and Jean… sometimes. And eventually, she’d have to leave the nest and talk to other people.

Warren knocked on her door. (Y/N) glanced at her reflection— she still had her pajamas on!

He knocked again, “(Y/N)? It’s me.”

“Sorry! Give me a sec!” (Y/N) hurried and shut her closet, then opening her door to let Warren in. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, are you—“ He glanced at her clothes. (Y/N) instantly tensed up, insecure by his gaze. “Why are you still in your pajamas?”

“Uh… I don’t really have anything good for flying—“

“Just wear some shorts and a shirt with holes in the back. Nothing fancy.”

“You don’t understand, I have one shirt with holes in the back, and it’s in the laundry.”

“You sleep with your wings tucked in?” Warren gawked.

“Sometimes.” She defended.

Warren glanced at something shiny in the corner of his eye. “Grab a shirt you don’t care about.”

“Okay…” (Y/N) grabbed an old Xavier’s school tee.

“Give it to me.” She handed it to Warren. He took the scissors from her desk and quickly cut slits in the back of the t-shirt. “There. Now you have something to wear.”

She just stared at Warren.

“Are you gonna put it on or?...”

“Can you step out of the room then?”

Warren’s eyes widened in realization on what he’d set himself up for. “Right! Right, um, do you need any help getting your wings through the holes?”

“If I do, I’ll ask. Now leave so I can get dressed.”

“Yeah, right, right.” Warren quickly stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

(Y/N) huffed and slipped her large nightshirt off, throwing it on her bed. She grabbed the shirt Warren cut up and put it on without a second thought.

Head pops out through the first hole.

The arms go through the sleeves.

The shirt slips down and covers the chest and torso.

But the wing holes were new. (Y/N) tried to push one of her wings out but she struggled. It took her a bit of reaching back with her hands to spread the fabric a bit so she had more space before she could get it through the slit.

The second wing she had more trouble with.

(Y/N) couldn’t reach her arms back as easily to spread out the slit. And her whole wing wouldn’t go through since it wasn’t the loosest of shirts.

(Y/N) opened her door and peeked her head out. “Hey, I need some help…”

Warren perked up a little, following (Y/N) into her room.

“Just like, hold the two sides of the slit out, and then I can get my wing through.”

Warren did as she asked.

“We’re they too small?”

“A little, but also this isn’t baggy like most of my clothes, so…”

“I can make the holes bigger if you want.”

She dismissed him, “It’s fine. I’ll do it later.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I already wasted enough time getting ready. We should go out.”

Warren nodded, “Yeah. We’re gonna be out for a while.”

—

They were standing on the roof of Xavier’s, looking out onto the grassy campus.

“So, uh, flying once you get the hang of it, is like a reflex almost… But uh basically, you just need to flap your wings, so you keep yourself afloat of sorts. Does that make sense?”

“Kind of.”

“Okay, um, just like, run off the edge—”

“Runoff the edge?!” (Y/N) asked, terrified of falling to her death. Scared of having a repeat of the night before.

“Just flap your wings, and if you mess up I’ll catch you.”

(Y/N) stood at the edge, peering down at the ground below. “Are you sure?”

“Maybe back up a bit, get like a running start first.”

(Y/N) did as he suggested, running off the edge. When her feet left the roof, she tried to flap her wings as Warren had told her.

She felt herself flying like a wonky baby bird. Somewhat lopsided with each flap, but she was doing it!

“Oh my gosh! Warren! Warren I’m doing it!”

She could see Warren still on the roof. He gave her a thumbs up and some encouraging cheers.

(Y/N) smiled, struggling to fly, but flying nonetheless. She looked down for a moment, and then suddenly realized she was many feet above the ground, in the air. (Y/N) panicked, and stopped flapping her wings for a moment, before she started to fall.

“Shit!” Warren flew off the roof to save (Y/N).

But it was a false alarm, for, by the time Warren was about to catch (Y/N), she’d regained herself and was no longer falling to the ground.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, it’s just really high up, I’m scared of falling again, like at the party.”

“Hey, hey, relax, don’t focus on the ground or your wings. Just— focus on me, okay?”

She looked at his face— his blue eyes, his plush pink lips, the dark lines adorned all over his face, and how he had a few untamable, blonde curls that framed his face— she looked at Warren’s wings and tried to copy how his fluttered and kept him aflight.

“You’re doing it!” He told her.

“Really?” (Y/N) was almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, you’re doing great!”

(Y/N) looked at her wings, realizing what she was doing. She was worried she’d fall, but it never happened.

“I’ll race you to the mansion next door.”

“Next door? That’s like several acres.” Warren gave her a knowing look, and then it all clicked. “Oh! Oh, you’re so on!”

Warren laughed and they both flew off at high speed, away from school.

—

They got back to the mansion after sunset, both giggling and playfully fighting about who won the race.

“I think I won—”

“Oh, yes, beginner’s luck, Baby Bird.”

She raises her eyebrows and points at him, “Aha! So you admit I won.”

“I may have let you…”

(Y/N) scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, you got me. I wouldn’t go too easy on you.” Warren was headed for the kitchen, but (Y/N) was going in the opposite direction.

“I was gonna get a bite to eat. Wanna join me?”

“Um, I was going to shower first…”

“Oh… I’ll see you later then?”

(Y/N) was suddenly very awkward and nervous, “Um, yeah! Pfft, of course, uh— yeah. Yeah!”

“Great!” Warren was also suddenly somewhat nervous.

“Great!”

The two were on their separate paths, before (Y/N) turned back for a moment.

“You good?” Warren asked.

“Yeah, um,” (Y/N) kissed his cheek. It didn’t last long, but it left her heart pounding and Warren flustered.

“Thanks for today. I’m gonna go shower.”

#warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington x reader #x-men x reader #x men x reader #xmen x reader #angel x reader #archangel x reader #warren worthington iii x you #warren worthington iii oneshot #warren worthington x you #warren worthington oneshot #x-men oneshot #xmen oneshot #my writing #ben hardy x reader

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thelukesalvez · 4 years

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Too Much Distance

Request: “hi! can i request an imagine where the reader almost breaks up with luke because the distance is too much, but luke immediately flies home to change their mind? thank you so much! I really love your work!”

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @lcvischmitt , @ogmilkis , @reidswords, @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016 , @brwn-sgr

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: slight angst, murder mention (no details)

Luke’s contact photo pops up on your phone, the ringtone interrupts the song you were playing, but as you slide to answer, you realize the sound of his voice is way better than whatever poppy tune had been on.

“Hey babe,” you smile widely, trying to balance your phone between your ear and shoulder as you drive home from work. The fact that you would be seeing Luke tonight was what had kept you smiling throughout the day. Not even the heavy traffic could interfere with your good mood.

When Luke joined the Bureau, you knew things would be difficult, but you both were dedicated to making things work. However, the last few months had been harder than you could have ever anticipated. It seemed like he was always away on a case, and the distance definitely took a toll on your relationship. But that didn’t matter right now, because Luke would be home tonight.

“Hey there,” Luke says back. You can hear chatter in the background and briefly wondered where he was.

“Are you almost home?” you ask, hopeful.

There’s a brief pause, then Luke sighs, “That’s actually what I was calling about—“

“Oh no,” you interrupt, “was the jet delayed?”

“No…” he clears his throat, “I’m actually still in LA.”

The moment he says the words, your coffee canister slips from your hands, spilling over your lap and car. The heat immediately seeps through your skirt. You’re lucky you don’t crash as you try to wipe it up with the napkins stuffed in your cup holder.

“Shit,” you gasp, your thighs burning from the hot beverage. “Shit, shit, shit—“

You flip your blinker on, tears and anger both starting to fill you up, and pull over on the side of the road. You wipe up the remainder of the coffee, ignoring Luke asking if everything was okay on the other end of the line.

Once your legs no longer felt like they were on fire, you pick your phone back up, and already on the verge of tears resume your conversation.

“Are you serious?” you ask.

“We got the wrong guy— the murders keep happening,“ you can tell he’s frustrated by the news too. You can tell he’s trying to dodge a fight, which was really all you’d been doing lately. Seeing each other today was what you had both been holding onto, or at least that’s what you thought.

You sigh, and without raising your voice say, “I just… I mean we’ve had these dinner plans for so long— I mean my parents have been talking about this for weeks.“

“I know, I know, I know—“ he says frantically, “I’m so sorry, believe me, I’d much rather be there than here… we’re swamped.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, and close your eyes, listening to the sound of traffic rushing by your parked vehicle.

“Okay,” you sigh, feeling so defeated and drained all of a sudden. “Okay, well, we’ll miss you.”

“I know, tell everyone I say I’m sorry for not being there.”

“Yeah, alright,” you agree.

“So we’ll just talk later then?” he asks, the noise in the background is getting louder.

“Okay,” you say before hanging up. You can’t help but notice that the “I love you’s” were skipped.

You drove the rest of the way home with your fingers tightly clenched around the steering wheel. Your knuckles were white by the time you pulled into the driveway. You dragged your bag and coffee-stained self into the house to change and get ready for dinner with your family.

You tried convincing yourself that the night would be fun, regardless of the fact that Luke had bailed. But the moment you sat around the table at the restaurant and counted that you were in fact the eleventh wheel of the family, you knew things were doomed. Plus you couldn’t shake the achy feeling inside your chest that made you fear for your relationship with Luke. You had been holding onto this weekend together with everything you had. It kept you grounded, and reminded you that this distance between you and Luke wouldn’t last forever. Now, you had nothing to hold on to.

“Where’s Luke?” your mother immediately asked. Of course.

Without even thinking, you lie, “His flight got delayed. Bad weather—“ you’re not sure why you didn’t spill the truth. Denial, maybe. Embarrassment that his job would always come before you.

“Bad weather?” your brother asks, “In LA?”

“Yeah—“ you stammer, your face turning red. “Tornados, I guess.”

Your brother goes to argue that statement, but his girlfriend elbows him, indicating for him to shut his mouth. You give her a soft smile in appreciation.

You stay quiet for the majority of the meal, and you don’t feel much like eating.

All-in-all, you’re relieved when everyone is ready to head home.

“Hey,” your brother’s girlfriend catches up to you before you can head to your car,

“Hi,” you smile.

“Is everything okay? I just— I wanted to make sure, cause you do know LA doesn’t have tornados, right?”

You nod and let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I know. And Luke’s flight never got delayed,” you take a deep breath, “I guess that just sounded better than the fact that he didn’t even get on his flight. Got caught up at work,” you explain.

She pierces her lips empathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just—“ you feel the tears starting to fill your eyes and you wipe them away, embarrassed. “I don’t know if we’re gonna make it—“

“Oh no,” she says empathetically.

“The distance is just, really, really hard. Way harder than I ever thought—“ even you can tell how choked up your voice sounds, “And I just don’t see it ending anytime soon. He loves his job, and I’d never ask him to give that up. But I can’t compete with it. I just don’t know if I can do it—”

“Maybe you should talk to him about this,” she suggests, as she soothingly rubs your shoulder. “Tell him how much it’s bothering you. Be honest.”

You nod. “Yeah you’re probably right,” you wipe your runny nose on your sleeve.

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod, thanking her and hugging her goodbye. She was right. You did need to talk to Luke. But that was a conversation you wished you could just keep on the back burner, ignoring until everything ignited. You dreaded it the whole way home.

The phone rang three times before Luke answered.

“How was dinner?” he asks.

“It was fine—“ you lie, not really wanting to fake small talk, “everyone missed you.”

“Yeah, I wish I could’ve been there.”

You clear your throat as you anxiously drum your fingers on the counter.

“Listen, Luke We need to talk—“

“Babe,” he protests, “I already apologized for not being there— I wanted to, but I can’t control what happens in this case. It’s my job, I couldn’t say no.”

You didn’t want to fight. You were too tired, too drained, too sad to fight. “I know…” you say as non confrontational as possible, “I know it’s your job, I understand that, but I— I need you here, Luke. And maybe that’s selfish of me, or whatever, but it’s true. I can’t do this distance thing, I thought I could, but I can’t. It’s killing me.”

“I mean, what do you want me to do?” Luke asks, “Quit? Do you want me to quit my job?”

You squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of what was about to happen.

“No, I don’t want that,” you say, your voice becoming heavy with tears, “And I hate that this is through the phone, but I don’t think we should do this anymore. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

There’s a long silence, but it sounds so loud.

You begin wondering if you should provide more of an explanation, but then Luke speaks.

“Baby—“ he pleads, his voice full of desperation, “Please, I know you’re mad about tonight but I can fix this—“

“I’m not mad,” you tell him, pushing the emotion in your voice down and trying to muscle through. “But I come second to your job, Luke. And that’s not your fault. But it’s not my fault either. And I need more than that.”

He’s stammering incoherently on the other end, and you imagine what his face looks like right now. Was he crying? Were his eyebrows all scrunched up?

He tries protesting again, but your mind is made up.

“Goodbye,” you whisper, hitting the end button before he could convince you otherwise. As soon as the line went dead, you broke out into uncontrollable sobs. The weight on your shoulders that you thought would be lifted only felt heavier as you let yourself fall to the floor.

Your chest ached, and you clutched your arm around yourself, trying to hold everything together.

It hurt like fucking hell.

You fell asleep with Netflix still playing on the TV, the screen lighting up the otherwise dark living room. It was late when you woke to the sound of your door opening.

Your first instinct was to scream, but you caught a glimpse of the familiar, dark haired man standing in front of you before that could happen.

“Luke?” you say groggily, rubbing your tired eyes. “What are you doing?” You feel like you might still be dreaming.

“I know you probably don’t want me here,” he says, he’s out of breath, panting, even. “But just hear me out—” when you don’t protest, he continues.

“I love my job,” he states. “Being part of the Bureau was my dream, and then that dream came true. I love the BAU. I love being a profiler. I love being able to save lives—“

You let your eyes wander to the floor, wondering where this all was going.

“But none of that compares to how much I love you,” he says, his shoulders finally deflating. “And I’ll quit in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes.”

It had been so long since Luke had told you he loved you, that you feared it might no longer be true. But as soon as he says the words with such honesty and passion, your face scrunches up and the tears start to fall, because you immediately believe him. For a moment, you forget that you’d practically broken up with him over the phone.

All you care about is that he’s here. Luke is here, standing in front of you in real life for the first time in so long. You rush over to him, crashing into his body as you wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head on his chest. He smells so familiar, and when he curls his own arms around you, you immediately feel safe and secure and whole again.

You’re not sure how long you stay like that. But you’re afraid that the minute you let go, things will fall apart again.

Eventually you speak, “I love you so much, but I could never ask you to quit your job,” you sigh. “You’d be so unhappy and I’d hate myself for making you unhappy.”

Luke nods, he’s grateful that you understood, but he desperately needed to clarify things. “You don’t come second to my job, baby. Not even close, okay?”

You nod into his chest, but he senses that you don’t quite believe him. He pulls you away and holds you out in front of him, making sure you understand.

“If I quit the BAU, yeah- I’d miss it. Eventually though, I’d move on and find something else. But if I lost you--” Luke shakes his head, like the thought alone is too unbearable. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to be happy again. You come first, okay? Always.”

You give Luke the best attempt at a smile that you can come up with, enough to show him that you appreciate his gesture. It was nice knowing how much Luke cared for you.

Luke hugs you again, squeezing like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. You squeeze back, hugging him back as tightly as you could.

When you finally pull away, you look up at him and ask, “How did your case end?”

Luke shrugs, “Not sure- the team’s still working it in LA. They said they’d keep me updated.”

You narrow your eyes at him, confused. “What? You left before it was solved?”

Luke nods, his voice nonchalant, like it was no big deal. “Yeah, well,” he sighs. “Someone more important came up.”

And in that moment, on top of admiration and love and endearment, you felt hopeful. Hopeful for the first time in a long time, because even though things between you and Luke were far from perfect, you loved him and he loved you and that was worth fighting for.

#luke alvez fic #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez fanfic #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez fanfiction #luke alvez angst #luke alvez x reader fanfic #luke alvez x reader fanfiction #criminal minds x reader imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader fic #criminal minds

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creepy-spooghetti · 3 years

Text

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Chapter 10 - Tag, You’re It

_____

Jack doesn't return for several minutes, though she can hear the sound of muffled talking from the confines of another room nearby. The words are incoherent and muffled, but considering that there's nobody else in this house that she knows of, she guesses that he's on the phone, mostly based on the fact that the only voice she can hear is Jack's. She ponders what he said to her and tucks her knees into her chest, trying to tame the steadily rising fear that's making itself more and more apparent in her chest.

She knew from the beginning of all this chaos that there had to be a deeper meaning buried beneath the surface, even though she didn't want to acknowledge it and instead opted to come up with valid explanations for everything that happened, reasons that wouldn't make her seem crazy. But now? Now, it doesn't look like she has another option but to accept it. She has to admit, Jack made some pretty reasonable points, even if the points in question take a great suspension of disbelief. How else is she supposed to explain the things that have taken place over the past several days? She didn't have a clue about what was happening and why it was happening, and now she does. But is it the honest-to-God truth?

Being stalked by some supernatural being is definitely hard to believe, but so is mentally predicting the death of one's aunt and uncle, being kidnapped by someone without eyes, and subconsciously drawing some kind of freaky symbol. She hasn't another explanation for all of the eerie occurrences lately, what else is she supposed to think? At least she's been provided with an answer—whether that answer is correct or not has yet to be solved—but it's still an answer. It's more information than she could ever get out of her grandparents or anyone else. A therapist probably wouldn't even know what's going on with her. This way, she has a theory to go off of, something to build around until she finds something more... realistic. More believable.

Her eyes flick up to Jack as he re-enters the room, being ultimately pulled from her deep thoughts and watching him stuff, what she identifies as a phone, into his pocket. He turns her direction, his uncanny oozing gaze sending goosebumps up the length of her arms. "There will be someone over here in a bit to pick you up and take you to Brian's house. She's bringing a pair of shoes with her, too."

Oh, it's a girl. Maybe I can find some common ground and convince her to let me go. Unless she's trapped here too... She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and sits more naturally in the chair, her feet meeting the hardwood floor and her posture straightening to come across as more intimidating. Granted, she knows she isn't going to intimidate this monster of a man, but it makes her feel a little safer anyway.

"Who is she?" Her words are sharp and straight-to-the-point as she stares up at his tall frame in an attempt to seem, for the most part, fearless.

"Wisteria. Don't get your hopes up, she's almost as bad as Jeff." Releasing a huff, she rolls her eyes though chooses not to respond. "Do you want a glass—no, sorry—do you want a cup of water?" He puts great emphasis on the word 'cup', indirectly reminding her of the way she launched the glass at his head in an attempt to escape previously. It did work out in the end, she supposes, and she would have actually gotten out of this place had Jeff's hellhound for a dog not taken it upon himself to chomp down on her ankle and keep her firmly planted where she laid in the dirt until someone came to retrieve her. That 'someone' being Jeff.

"What, so you can poison me?" She mutters, crossing her arms stubbornly. "I think I'll pass."

"Did you not hear anything I just told you a few minutes ago?" He sighs, running gloved fingers through his copper-brown hair. "If I wanted to hurt you I would have done it by now." Ignoring the dryness in her throat, no doubt from lack of water, she only stares up at him with an obstinate expression, refusing to take anything that he has to offer. After a couple of moments, he too crosses his arms. "Ya know, it won't do you much good if you dehydrate and end up dying anyway."

"I'd rather dehydrate than trust you with anything." They continue to stare at each other for what feels like minutes when in reality it's only around ten seconds before Jack shakes his head in defeat.

"Fine. Suit yourself." He takes a seat on the couch, being mindful to keep a fair amount of distance between himself and Y\n, and leans back to get more comfortable. "I know this is a lot to process, but you're gonna have to get used to the fact that you can't go back home. You can't see your family again, it would be too dangerous for both yourself and them."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a warning. You go back home, try to live a normal life, and you eventually snap. You'd be compelled to go to the very thing you've been trying to avoid and kill whoever got in your way. Even if that includes your family." She leers at him through skeptical e\c eyes, comprehending what he's telling her and trying to brush away the feeling of trepidation that rises within her stomach. "It's happened before. I've seen it, too many times to be proud of. It isn't a nice process."

"You're crazy if you actually think I'd kill someone, much less my own family." It's true that she has less-than-desirable parents, but there's no way that she'd ever lose herself enough to physically harm them or take their lives. She isn't a bad enough kid to do something like that, not even under the direst of circumstances. Especially if it involves her grandparents. They've shown her nothing but kindness and support, why on earth would she ever murder them? The very thought sends shivers down her spine.

"Denial is something most people express at first. But it would happen, whether you wanted it to or not." She shakes her head, furrowing her eyebrows together in objection.

"I would never."

"You say that, but you don't know what he's capable of. You don't know how much power he possesses." She averts her gaze to the ground, hugging her torso insecurely and listening to the slightly muffled words that leave Jack's mouth. "He drives you mad. It may start off subtle, maybe you'll have some bad dreams, or minor coughing fits, nothing too concerning. But it will get worse, and worse, and soon you'll be seeing things that aren't there, becoming paranoid because at every turn you feel like something's watching you, but you don't know where or by what. You'll isolate yourself, refuse to talk to anyone, become distant from your friends, your family, society as a whole. And it will continue getting worse, and worse, and worse until you're at your breaking point. You'll just want it all to stop, you'll just want it to be over. You'll be desperate. So you'll listen to him, obey his commands. He'll take you to your breaking point, all without lifting a finger."

The words leave his mouth slowly, making the situation all the more unnerving. There's a sinister kind of truth to what he says that makes an eerie fog blanket her mind in a sense of dread and impending doom. He's right. She knows he's right. There isn't definite proof, but the very tone of his voice and his serious posture tells her right then. He isn't lying. This is real. This is all real, no matter how much she may try to deny it.

Letting out a shaky sigh, she rubs her face with her hands and attempts to slow the rapid beating of her heart. One question floats to the top of all of her thoughts, and she picks it up and analyzes it for a few moments before speaking. "...Why me?" She sees him tilt his head to the side a bit, silently questioning her inquiry and asking for clarification. She happily delivers. "Why, out of seven billion people, does it want me?" She scrapes a hand through her hair in an effort to compose herself, her voice trembling. "What did I do to attract it? I'm just...I'm just a normal person. Why would it want me to do...whatever?"

He takes a few seconds to respond, stringing the words together in his head and coming up with the best possible answer. "I...I don't know." He shrugs lightly, craning his neck toward the couch beneath him. "You told me you had some family issues. He preys on the weak and vulnerable. If you've been going through stressful things, that's likely to be a big contributor to the reason he chose you."

"So you're telling me that I'm being hunted by a paranormal entity because I have garbage for parents?" She chokes down the bile threatening to rise in her throat. "How is that my fault?"

"It doesn't have to be," he simply says, shifting in his seat to better face her. "He's attracted to whoever is at a bad time in life and isn't handling it very well. If you've been stressed, he'll try to get you. It isn't always the victim's fault." Thoughts swarm her mind, though they zip by so quickly she barely has time to process each one before the next one takes its place. But one question manages to stand out above the rest, and she stares at the floor intently.

"But... but I've been going through stuff for years and I haven't had any problems like what's been happening recently until I got here." Her eyes shift up to his featureless, navy-blue mask curiously. "If it wanted me, why didn't it start before?"

"It's difficult to stalk someone and drive them insane when they're in the middle of a city," he says after a moment. "He probably knew about you before, at least to a point, but he couldn't really get to you until you were closer to where he resides." She gulps, eyes glistening with unfallen tears of dismay. "He wanted you more isolated. He can affect you easier that way."

"He's only after me, right?" Worry blooms in her chest and she leans forward absentmindedly. "My... my grandparents aren't a target, too? It's just me?"

"I doubt he'd have anything to do with two people like that, unless..." He pauses, and she presses her lips together in an anxious line.

"Unless?" Her voice holds a sense of distress. "Unless what?"

"Unless..." She can tell he's hesitant to finish his thought, though if it concerns the well-being of Nana and Pops, she won't stand for any unanswered questions. "...well, unless he wanted to use them. To manipulate you."

"How would he do that?" Now fully invested in the conversation, she tries to stabilize her breathing as she stares impatiently at Jack, desperate to get a response.

"He has different tactics. It'd be hard to say which one he'd use on you." Releasing a tremulous breath and trying to ease the nervous pit in her stomach, she clenches her fists.

"Would he hurt them?" For now, she's going to assume both of them are still alive and well, though utterly frantic over her sudden disappearance. Jack hasn't given any proof that he didn't harm them in any way, but she'd rather think about the possibility of life over the possibility of death.

"I don't know. He might."

"Well, then I have to get back to them!" She shoots up from her sitting position, causing a wave of dizziness to wash over her and nearly make her stumble to the floor, but she manages to keep her balance before that can happen. "So let me go."

"Y\n, being irrational isn't going to get you anywhere."

"I'm not being irrational!" She shoots a glare at where he still sits on the couch, starting to limp her way to the front door. "I'm being a good granddaughter. I'm not letting them get hurt." He sighs, a sound that's really beginning to get on her nerves, and slowly stands. She backs away warily in response.

"Your grandparents are fine. He likely won't even do anything that involves them because they're so far away from you now." Just how far away from them is she really?

"Where did you bring me then??"

"I can't tell you. Not yet." He eases closer to her, and she eyes the door. She isn't getting anywhere with her ankle being the way it is, and she knows it. But it's worth another try, right? She darts across the rest of the living room, but before she can even get close to grabbing the knob, a pair of strong arms wrap around her torso and pull her back. Despite her attempts at freedom, his hold doesn't even loosen.

"Let me go, Jack!"

"You already know that isn't going to happen." She lets out an exasperated groan, trying not to put pressure on her injury as she struggles fruitlessly against the tall male currently holding her back and succeeding, much to her displeasure. "You need to calm down."

"How am I supposed to 'calm down'? The only two people who actually give a crap about me are in danger!" She growls, attempting to kick him in the leg or elbow him in the gut, though he skillfully dodges each time and locks onto her tighter, remaining unphased by her actions.

"And you'll be putting them in even more danger if you go back. You heard what I said. Do you really want to hurt your own family?"

"Just shut up! I'd never do something like that. Not if my life depended on it."

"Well, it would. Y\n, you don't understand." He effortlessly spins her around to face him, her neck having to bend upward due to the large height difference between the two of them. She watches the tar-like substance as it leisurely drips from his empty sockets and down his mask before having to glance away. "Once you get to that point, he controls you. He owns you. He can make you do whatever he deems necessary to please him, and you can't stop it." She huffs, biting her bottom lip and holding back distressed tears. "Do you really want that to happen to you?"

She brings both her hands up and pushes harshly against his chest to create some kind of space between them before crossing her arms and sending him a glare, gathering the nerve to look directly into the vacant pits in his head. "I don't want any of this to happen to me," she mumbles, taking deep breaths just to stop herself from crying. "I just want to go home and be with people I love." The words leave her lips as a harsh whisper, voice cracking in the process.

"That can't happen." His tone changes from mildly irritated to sympathetic in an instant, and he takes a small step back in an effort to make her feel more comfortable. "I'm sorry."

She uses the back of her arm to wipe away a stray tear that had begun rolling down her cheek as her gaze lingers toward the hallway. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Jack, or anybody besides her grandparents. She wants out of this mess. At least she knows it isn't her fault, not completely anyway. Not that the thought soothes her very much, but it's something. "...Where's the bathroom?" It comes out as a half-hearted demand, and he answers immediately.

"First door to the right." She nods in silent gratitude and starts walking that way, ignoring the bit of pain that erupts through the bottom half of her leg as she does so. Once inside the desired room, she shuts the door behind her, flicks on the light, and tries to calm her fast, unsteady breathing and erratic heart rate. What is she supposed to do? Take Jack's word for it and stay here? Escape and try to find the way to a police station? Neither option sounds too appealing at the moment. She doesn't forget the words Jeff used before he ever so kindly walked her back to her kidnapper's house.

"Cops don't scare me. I've dealt with way, way worse than guns and tasers."

It sounded like a threat, and given the brief, though memorable, interaction with Jeff she had, it's very probable that's exactly what it was. A threat. Like he was telling her if she managed to break free and get the police involved, he'd hunt her down and wipe out everyone within his path. And it wouldn't bother him a bit. Of course it wouldn't, if he's crazy enough to supposedly carve a smile into his face, then he's crazy enough not to care in the least as he straight-up murders people.

How could somebody be so... twisted? Is it the doing of that thing, the one Jack informed her about? Or is it something totally different? Well, if she's going to be here a while, as she assumes she will be whether she likes it or not, then she'll be sure to gather as many details about the ones that live around here as she can. Maybe she can ask that girl that's supposed to be coming by with shoes, according to Jack. What's her name? Wendy? Whitney? Wanda?

No, dummy, it was a flower. She's named after a flower... Petunia? Lily? She shakes her head in disregard. That isn't even close. The bathroom is small, with a sink counter to her right, a toilet to the side of that, a tub to her left, and a slender cabinet ahead of her, right beside a window. The thought only crosses her mind briefly to use the window to escape; not only is it too high for her to properly reach without some kind of boost, but it's too small for her to even begin trying to squeeze through.

Nausea bubbles in her stomach as she thinks more and more about her hopeless situation. How does she handle this? Her whole existence just got flipped upside-down in the matter of a few hours. She doesn't know where she is, the people around her seem completely off their rocker, and her grandparents are at risk of being hurt, or possibly even killed by some other-worldly creature that she's seen a grand total of once, and that sighting was vague. What about that one time she saw that figure in the woods? The one with the white mask? Was that a hallucination, or was it real too?

She has no way of knowing for sure, and that thought alone makes her want to collapse and cry until she can't anymore about her misfortune. But she won't, not right now. Instead, she throws herself at the sink, desperate to rid herself of the foul taste filling her mouth and swallowing the vomit creeping up her throat. She turns on the faucet and welcomes the cool water that spills out, pressing her lips against it and gulping it down. She savors the pristine liquid as it slips down her throat, bringing an end to the dryness she felt in it prior and relieving her of the discomfort.

Letting out a strangled cough, she turns the faucet off and looks up, only now noticing the large piece of cloth—presumably an old sheet or blanket—covering the area where a mirror usually is placed. She lifts the corner of it up, only to find that there is, indeed, a mirror underneath, but finding herself a bit perplexed. Why would there be a sheet blocking the mirror? Did Jack do it? Does he not like to look at himself?

How would he see himself if he doesn't have eyes? She knits her eyebrows together, sniffling and licking some residual water away from her lips to stop it from dribbling down her chin. But he seems to move around just fine as if he can see where he's going. She's already established that he isn't normal, but just how not-normal is he? How does one see without eyes? Does he have some kind of sixth sense that allows him to somehow know his surroundings? If the whole 'no eyes' thing is only part of his mask, it's definitely fooled her. It looks so... so real. Just like every other aspect of him.

If he's like that, and Jeff is like that, then what do the other ones look like? She knows that there have to be others, Jack made that blatantly obvious by mentioning someone named Brian and the other named...Daisy? No, that's not it either. How much freakier is it going to get for her? Just how many more psychos has she yet to come across? She isn't too eager to find out. Jack's bad enough, and though he hasn't given her any more reason to hate him, the fact still stands that he took her from her house. Not only that, but he drugged her to do so, and before that, tricked her. Lied, right to her face, all to make her think he was trustworthy. Which he clearly is not.

She isn't sure whether to feel mad, betrayed, or a mixture of both. No, the two weren't friends, but they had talked for quite a while and she had told him things about herself that she certainly wouldn't tell some grey-skinned, eyeless thing. Is he even human? He doesn't look like one. She thought that there was a sort of bond that had sparked between the two of them during their encounter, though now she knows it was just a big, dirty trick.

She sighs through her nose, rubbing her eyes and leaning against the counter. Should she have just stayed home? Sure, she didn't really have a choice but to go to her grandparents' house while her mom and dad went wherever their work lead them, but she knows for a fact that her father in particular would have much preferred to keep her away from them. For some reason though, he had still hauled her off to a place she hasn't visited since she was eleven years old. It may have had something to do with Y\n refusing, under any circumstances, to stay at the penthouse with their absolute snob of a nanny, all alone, for God-knows how many weeks on end.

And seeing as how her mother's parents weren't an option, it was either her father's or summer camp. The last time she was at summer camp, she didn't have a very good experience, and pair that with all of the people in a hurry to make fun of her just because they're jealous of her parents' money, yeah, her grandparents were the better option by a long shot. But... if she would have just stayed home, would this have happened? Would Nana and Pops still be safe? Would she still be leading a generally boring, miserable life? Jack said himself that the creature chasing after her wouldn't be able to reach her in a populated area, like a city, and that's why he only now started attacking her. Because she was easy bait.

Is this actually her fault? Could she have avoided all of this had she just stopped being stubborn and stayed put in her home? What if Nana and Pops get killed if they aren't already? All because of her want to reach out to and see family that actually still care about her? Throwing around blame isn't going to help anything. Though that's what she tells herself, she can't help but think about it and feel guilty.

If I'm dreaming, now would be a good time to wake up. It all feels a bit too realistic to be a dream at this point, but she still clings to that little sliver of hope that this whole charade has been something her mind created while she's unconscious, and that soon she'll awake, perfectly healthy in her bed, with no giant noodle man to worry about, or crazy weirdos with masks, or strange dreams, unexplained dizzy spells and coughing fits. No whacky symbols. That would be incredible, even though she knows that really, she's never that lucky. It's all actually happening, and there's no way to escape it.

She doesn't even try to stop the tears that softly slip down her cheeks and make tiny little drip noises when they land in the porcelain bowl beneath her, only huffing in agitation and dipping her head to collect her bearings. And I thought I had a screwed-up life before...

After a few minutes, she's able to compose herself and gather enough courage to step back outside into the hallway, glancing toward the living room and catching sight of Jack on the couch, book in hand, and head craned down as if reading the words on the pages. Now how does that work? She steps forward, and at the sound of another presence nearing, he tilts his head up and meets her eyes with his soulless black pits.

She pauses under his gaze, nerves jumping with unease at his attention before she continues walking, stopping to idly lean against the wall farthest from him. "You okay?" His voice makes her flinch slightly, having not expected him to speak and break the tense silence that had built between them, though she's able to blow it off and act as if nothing happened.

"No," she says, tone harsh as she crosses her arms and drops her gaze down to the floor. "Why would I be 'okay'? This isn't exactly an everyday occurrence."

"I know, I know." He folds his book over and rests it in his lap, slanting forward slightly. "I'm not expecting you to be alright with this. Not for a while, at least." She narrows her eyes at him and presses her lips together. "I just need you to understand that this is your best option. It ensures both your safety and your family's safety."

"You just told me that my family could be used to manipulate me." Her tone is taut and her eyebrows furrow together, peering at him through resentful e\c orbs. "That doesn't sound very 'safe' to me."

"Yes, and then I said he probably won't feel the need to use them at all because you're so far away from where they live." He straightens his posture and tilts his head. "Trust me, going back would be more dangerous."

"And what if he does decide to 'use' them, huh? What then?" It takes a few infuriating moments for him to respond, and she shuffles around on her feet a bit to give him a well-aimed glare. He either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore it.

"We'll have to cross that bridge if we come to it." She opens her mouth to complain, to say something along the lines of, 'no freaking way am I standing aside and letting my grandparents become targets for some freak of nature,' but before she can there are three firm raps on the door, coming from the outside. It startles her, and she cautiously averts her gaze to the source of the sudden noise.

Jack moves the curtain to the side and glances out through the window placed directly behind the couch, seemingly checking for who could possibly be at the door. "Relax, it's alright." He stands to his feet and heads toward the wooden portal. She sends him a questioning look, and he motions outside. "Wisteria's here."

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #female reader #Y\n L\n #Eyeless Jack #Jack Nichols #Eyeless Jack x reader #creepypasta x female reader

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strawberriestyles · 4 years

Text

Chapter 11

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Heyyyyyaaaaaaa. I’m going to be honest with y’all. I have not been working on this story like I should have since I started posting. That being said, I do have a few more chapters completed but then things get a littleeeeee fuzzy bc I’ve been slacking. I’m going to try to keep up with the posting schedule I have rn, but if that doesn’t work out, please forgive me. I may need to pause for a few weeks to stack up some more chapters. BUT CROSS YOUR FINGERS I GET MY SHIT TOGETHER. As always, please like and reblog and leave me an ask if you can. :’) When you’re done reading, I would love for you guys to go find a petition you haven’t signed yet. All of my love. Xx

Melody still had nightmares. Horrible ones. Awful, haunting dreams that pressed at the edges of reality, blurring lines between sleeping and waking. But they somehow became less constant and more bearable within the next few weeks. Whether it was due to Harry’s constant, tender touches as she fell asleep every night, or to the ugly, unartistic paintings and incoherent writing she’d forced out, there were no clues. She thought Harry deserved the credit, but he thought it could be a mix of both.

Early snow dusted the city like powdered sugar, lightly enough to look pretty without making traffic a mess. Melody felt the cold dampen her mood, but Harry only seemed to brighten at the prospect of a blizzard warning. Snow dazzled him. Despite everything he’d experienced in his relatively short life, somehow winter had always remained a sort of sanctuary for him. And he’d softened himself toward everyone as a result.

“Ugh, do I have to go?” Melody asked aloud when she reentered the bedroom to find him laid out on her bed. He looked so cozy and warm in a pair of sweats with his hair mussed atop his head. She bent over him to plant a chaste kiss to his lips.

“No,” Harry said, “yeh don’.”

She smiled ruefully and stole another soft kiss from him. “Yes, I do.”

“Yeh don’ have to. Could stay here with me.”

“Harry.” Melody accepted his return kisses as he sat himself up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress.

“Melody.” He ran a thumb over the curve of her chin and sighed.

“I need to go. Please, be nice to Bea.”

“Always am.”

“Sure you are.” She pressed her lips to his one final time and let them linger a few moments too long, until she felt his fingers sneaking around the back of her neck. If she let him touch her too much she’d end up late to her own match. “Okay, I’m leaving,” she insisted as she backed away. “I’m going. Bye.”

Harry watched her slip out of the room, collecting her gym bag on the way. He was relieved that she hadn’t told him she loved him. Every time he heard the words on her tongue he felt his very organs shift, felt them contort and fold in on themselves. He would never, ever tell her the way it made him feel, but he hoped that eventually, when he still wasn’t saying it back, she might just let the sentiment die. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

“Let’s go, Harry!” Bea called from the living room.

He sighed as he rose to his feet and lumbered out of the bedroom, his cane clicking on the hardwood. The door to the apartment closed before he made it past the threshold of the room. It was only him and Bea left. There was still an awkward air between them, but it was beginning to thin. Harry thought it was because of his help with Melody’s nightmares. He didn’t like the idea that Bea had ever thought he’d be useless in a situation like that. He didn’t like that doing the bare minimum to comfort Melody had somehow made Bea more open to him.

“You don’t look enthused.”

“I don’ like to bullshit,” Harry responded.

Bea grinned. She patted the cushion beside her and waited for him to sit. She didn’t seem bothered that he sat farther from her than necessary.

“Aren’t you wondering what we’re gonna watch?” Bea asked.

Harry shrugged. “Not really.”

“What if I picked a chick flick?”

“Then I’d just fall asleep.”

“You’re not falling asleep tonight,” Bea stated. “We’re watching The Silence of the Lambs.”

Harry’s lack of reaction seemed to deflate her. She clicked a button on the remote and the opening credits of the film began to roll.

“I have no clue how you’re with someone who writes and paints,” Bea murmured.

“If yeh figure it out, let me know.”

The pair lapsed into silence as the movie started. And didn’t even exchange a glance when Queenie appeared, curling up on the cushion between them.

Bea paused after a bit to take a call from Josie and microwave a bag of popcorn, and when she returned she found her cat sprawled across Harry’s lap, purring loudly, much to Harry’s chagrin. She had to consciously stop herself from spitting out laughter. Instead, she sat back in her seat and slid the bowl of popcorn into the spot that Queenie had abandoned.

***

“That was fucked up,” Harry eventually said, when the end credits of the movie had been rolling for a few minutes.

“Yes.”

“He wore the guy’s face.”

“He eats people. I feel like that’s the more fucked up of the two.”

Harry shook his limbs, as though he could expel the disturbing parts of the movie from his memory. Queenie, who hadn’t moved since she settled into his lap, took unkindly to his movement, stretched to the floor, and bounded into Bea’s bedroom.

“Glad Melody didn’t watch this one.”

Bea drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “Melody loves scary movies,” she informed him. "But that’s because she knows they’re not real. She’s not—It’s different when you live it, right?”

Harry fell silent. Whether she agreed or not, he was the one that had dragged Melody into a horror film of her own. Now she could barely sleep in her own bed because of his brother. And he didn’t know how else he could help, how else he could ward off the monsters.

“Speak of the devil,” Bea said as she caught sight of Harry’s phone, where it buzzed on the coffee table. “Mel” was spelled across the screen. Harry leaned forward to answer the call and bring the phone to his ear.

“Hi.”

“Hey, man.”

Sean’s voice sounded muffled and uneasy. Harry felt himself stiffen almost immediately, and his body language conveyed something to Bea. She unfolded her legs to place her feet flat on the floorboards.

“Wha’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

“Because yeh’re callin’ me from Melody’s phone and yeh sound like yeh’re about to get in trouble. Don’ fuck with me.”

There was a brief hiccup of a chuckle on the other end of the line. It was a nervous sound. Harry didn’t like it one bit.

“Uh, she lost her match.” Sean cleared his throat before he went on. “She’s about to get an X-ray of her torso done right now. I’m sure it’s just—”

“Fuckin’ Christ, Sean! Yeh could’ve led with that.” Harry was already on his feet, reaching for the arm of the sofa to keep his balance when he realized he was forgetting his cane. He doubled back and waved off Bea’s desperate vie for information.

“She’s probably fine!” Sean defended. “I don’t think she broke anything or she would’ve been a little more hysterical.”

“For fuck’s sake. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Harry hung up before Sean could respond. “She’s gettin’ X-rays at the hospital,” he spat at Bea, who was following him around and demanding to know what was going on. “Might have a broken rib or somethin’.”

So much for this strange bonding experience that Melody had insisted on. It felt more like something sorority sisters might do on the weekends than anything else, anyway. And Harry didn’t wait for Bea as he hobbled down the complex stairs, struggling into a jacket while supporting himself with his cane. But somehow she ended up in the cab with him, and their mutual silence felt unifying.

***

“Floor two,” the woman at the lobby’s desk said. Harry was already crossing to the elevators, so she nearly shouted the room number to him. Bea, despite being in perfect health, had to rush to keep up with him. Her curls bounced with every hurried step.

“Harry, I’m sure she’s okay.” She tugged the zipper down on her jacket as they waited for an elevator and tried to catch her breath. This felt like exercise, and Bea hated exercise. “Not that you shouldn’t be worried,” she continued, “but don’t act like she’s on the brink of death. She’s used to injuries.”

Harry snorted humorlessly. Melody didn’t know what injuries were. She told him once that she’d never been to the hospital for herself. It was always a cousin giving birth or her father getting stitches. She had never split her skin open far enough to get stitched up herself, or been hit so hard that her insides were bleeding, or snapped a bone.

There was a musical ding as an elevator reached the ground floor. Harry didn’t wait for the family on it to exit before he shouldered past them and jammed his thumb into the button for the second story. Bea was more patient. She allowed everyone out before she stepped in beside Harry and watched him smash the button to close the elevator doors. It was almost endearing to see him so concerned, but it was also too intense for her tastes.

There was no elevator music to lull the pair of them. They waited in silence until they reached the floor that Melody was on and then navigated through the halls quickly until they found the correct room number. Sean was just inside the door.

“Ah, I thought you’d gotten lost or—”

“Fuck you,” Harry snapped as he stepped past his friend. Melody was laying in a hospital bed. This setting was so familiar to Harry, but with the roles reversed, it felt like he was having a nightmare of his own.

“You don’t have to be rude to him, you know,” Melody muttered.

She had an awful, swelling bruise on her forehead, so close to her temple that it could’ve made Harry sick. She was in a sports bra, and for the first time he noticed Vanessa, who was meticulously wrapping up Melody’s ribcage.

“‘S not broken?” was the first thing Harry said.

“No,” Vanessa answered.

“Bruised.” Sean took a step forward, trying to insert himself back into the conversation that he had been ejected from. “She was doing really well and then—”

“I don’ wanna hear from you,” Harry interrupted. Melody rolled her eyes. Sean sighed.

“Fine, I guess I’ll go home,” he said. “I’ll let Goodman know you’re out for at least a month.”

Melody’s eyes widened and when she moved, the pressure on her ribs made her flinch. “A month?”

“At least,” Sean repeated.

“It’s a bruise.”

“‘S a bruised rib, Melody,” Harry snapped.

Sean left without any goodbyes. Bea leaned up against the wall where he’d been standing and lifted an eyebrow. “Thought you had defenses like a brick wall,” she teased.

“Shut up,” Melody mumbled as Vanessa finished her work. The room fell silent.

“Do you want some ice for your face?” Vanessa asked eventually, when Melody had been avoiding everyone’s eyes and the rest of them were sick of looking at each other.

“No, I can just—”

“Yes, she’ll take some ice,” Harry cut in.

“You tend to interrupt people,” Melody informed him. She laid back gently against the pillows that had been propped up behind her. “Have you noticed?”

Bea snorted. “Pretty sure he does it on purpose,” she said before wandering out of the room. Vanessa glanced between Harry and Melody and then followed Bea. The tension that had already filled the air seemed to thicken, settling over the two of them like an unnavigable fog. Harry sliced through it first.

“This is why I don’ want yeh fighting,” he said.

“You’re such a hypocrite, Harry,” she muttered. Then her voice rose. “If you were still in the ring you’d be getting injured, too. And I—”

Harry ignored the sting that he felt, the knowledge that he couldn’t box in his current condition. What if she wasn’t able to write? These days it seemed just that she didn’t want to, but if she wasn’t able to, wouldn’t she feel this same sort of despair? “Mel, yeh bruised your fuckin’ rib.” He took a step further into the room. “A little more pressure and it breaks. A little less luck and it punctures a fuckin’ lung and yeh’re chokin’ on blood. These are not just injuries. Yeh didn’ just fall off a bike and scrape your knee.”

Melody paused. She didn’t know how to respond. That sounded like her own fears spit back in her face. A half inch to the left and that bullet would’ve killed you.

“Are you going to keep yelling?”

“‘M not fuckin’ yelling. Do yeh want me to yell?” Harry’s brows knitted together and he shook his head. “What did yeh expect, me to lay down next to yeh and tell yeh ‘m so glad yeh’re okay? ‘S not happenin’. Think I’ve made my feelings pretty clear when it comes to this.”

“Actually, I didn’t expect anything. I didn’t want to call you.” Melody licked her lips as she studied the anger etched into the lines of Harry’s face, and then the minuscule shift as he realized that Sean was on his side. At least in this moment. “It comes with being a boxer,” she said after a pause. “You told me that once.”

Harry sighed. “Yeh’re not a fuckin’ boxer, Mel. Yeh’re a writer. Yeh’re a painter.”

“I can be whatever the fuck I want to be, Harry. And you’re not going to tell me what that is.”

His features hardened for a moment and then he glanced out the window. There was snow falling, slowly and gently, without the force of the brutal wind that would arrive in the coming weeks. It was so peaceful out there, and Harry wondered how he’d let himself become so resentful.

He stared outside for a few long minutes and then let his eyes wander back to Melody, who was already picking absentmindedly at the wrappings of her ribcage. His legs were growing weary and he was on the verge of needing to sit. Melody glanced up when she felt the weight of his gaze.

“Can we go home now?” she asked, and her voice was so soft, so at odds with the way she’d spoken her last sentence, that Harry could feel himself physically jarred by the shift.

“I can’ help yeh walk,” he said, though the words tasted like acid. “Yeh’re gonna need Bea and I dunno where she went off to.”

Melody chewed on her lower lip. She felt guilty for the short argument they’d had, and she could see that same feeling reflected back at her. The match had tired her out, her bruised rib hurt with every expansive breath. In vain, tears began to collect at the corners of her reddening eyes.

“Don’,” Harry said, taking a shaky step forward. He could sense the shift even before he saw her chin trembling. “Please, don’.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” she murmured, pressing her fingers to her eyelids, as if they could keep the water back like a dam. “Uh, how was the movie?”

“It was good,” Harry assured her, surprising himself. He hadn’t known that he enjoyed it until then, when he was put on the spot. Bea appeared like she’d been summoned.

“I heard that!” she nearly shouted. “He liked it!” Then her eyes fell to Melody and her snide grin tipped into a frown. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” Melody said with a discrete sniffle. “Can someone ask Vanessa if we can leave?”

“She said you just need to take it easy for a few weeks.” Bea shuffled past Harry and pried Melody’s hands from her face. “Which means no training.”

“Perfect,” Melody mumbled. She allowed Bea to begin shifting her out of the bed, gently twisting her limbs, trying not to tweak her rib. Harry had to lower himself into the chair a few feet from where he had been standing to give his legs some relief.

“The wraps are just for you to get home.” Bea paused as Melody bit back a whimper, waiting for her to straighten her torso. “And she’s hooking you up with some pain meds.”

“Yeh’ll need ‘em,” Harry muttered. He stood back up as the girls made their way toward the door. They were a conspicuous group, with a cane, a wrapped ribcage, and shuffling footsteps. Eyes followed them through the halls, all the way to a cab.

***

Melody’s lips grew white as Harry helped her out of her wrappings. She screwed her eyes shut and her fingertips curled into his knee.

“Okay,” he whispered as he tugged the final loop of fabric loose, leaving her skin bare. The sight of her flesh made him hiss. “Who the fuck hit yeh, the Hulk?”

“Mmm.”

Harry pressed a hand to her cheek. Her skin was hot, damp, and he could feel her jaw twitching, like she might be grinding her teeth. Her breathing was shallow.

“Let’s get yeh some o’ those painkillers, yeah?”

“No, I’m okay,” she whispered, though her voice shook.

“Mel.” He pressed a kiss to one of her closed eyes. “I’ve had a bruised rib before.”

She didn’t respond. He heard her try to take a deeper breath and then felt her neck quiver beneath his fingertips. She shook with the effort of stifling a cough.

“Don’ do that.” He pressed her backward and she gasped, clinging to his arm and letting out an agonized sob at the sharp intake of breath. “‘M sorry,” he rushed. “Love, ‘m sorry. Just sit back for me.”

She let him lower her away from him, eyes still squeezed shut and chin beginning to tremble like it had in the hospital. Her eyelashes were wet and Harry touched his forehead to hers. “Okay?”

“No.”

He let out a short huff of acknowledgment and then lifted the pillow from beside them, holding it tenderly to her chest as he leaned back. “If yeh need to cough just hold this to your chest. ’S still gonna hurt but it’ll be better.”

There was a pause before she wrapped her arms around the pillow and sputtered out a few gentle coughs. Her eyelids fluttered, nails biting into her palms, lips curling into her mouth.

“Melody, yeh don’ have to pretend yeh’re not in fuckin’ pain,” Harry told her, pressing a hard kiss to her cheekbone. He brushed hair away from her forehead, carefully avoiding her bruise, and then used his thumb to pry her lips back into place before kissing them. “Not on my account. ‘M sorry I got angry. I don’ want yeh to fight. But if yeh’re hurtin’ like this ‘m not just gonna tell yeh to suck it up.”

Harry stroked her ear and her tensed facial muscles began to relax. Her lips parted. She opened her eyes to glance up at him and almost immediately let them fall closed again as she began to cry.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled. He didn’t know whether it was for her or for himself. And he didn’t know if her tears were solely from the pain or for another reason entirely.

The mattress shifted despite his best efforts as Harry climbed off the bed. He hurried into the kitchen, gathering Melody’s prescription, a glass of water, and an ice pack. He almost didn’t even realize he’d forgotten his cane until he was laying himself down beside Melody, who had pulled the pillow up to cover the bottom half of her face, stifling her shallow sobs. But this wasn’t a moment to celebrate.

“All right, love, take some o’ these.” He shook out a few pills and reached across her for the glass he’d put on the night table. She lowered the pillow enough to toss the meds back and swallow a gulp of water, but Harry had to tug it from her grip so he could position the ice atop her angry, swelling bruise. Somehow, he’d finagled her bra over her head before attempting to unwrap her, and her breasts erupted in goosebumps at the cold touch.

“It fucking hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know, I know.” Harry settled his hand over the ice pack, pressing his lips to Melody’s shoulder. “Give the pills a little bit o’ time.”

He fell silent and stroked her wrist with his free hand until her tears began to ebb. The clock read one in the morning. Bea had gone to bed as soon as they’d gotten home because she needed to work on a group project the next morning. Harry was beginning to feel tired himself, and he couldn’t imagine how exhausted Melody was.

“Just one problem after another,” he finally said. “Just can’ seem to catch a break, can we?”

“Wouldn’t life be so boring?”

He chuckled against her skin. “Just a little break would be nice, though.”

Melody didn’t respond. Her shallow breathing was beginning to slow. Harry kissed her cheek to check that she was truly asleep before he removed the ice pack from her side and very carefully covered her with the sheets. And he hoped that the rest of her healing would pass more smoothly than this first night.

Chapter 12

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x ofc #boxer!harry #boxer!au #harry styles au #harry styles ferocity

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dangan-happy · 3 years

Note

KAME-HAME FORGET ABOUT IT!

I would like to say thank you to mod taichi, mod rantaro and mod komaeda. I am the anon who was desperate, the one who struggles with academic issue, keep sleeping past midnight because of extra chores, and struggling with executive dysfunction. I don't know how to refer myself haha

It's funny, I saw the notification from your blog about my ask when I was REALLY in need of comfort unexpectedly. it was one of the worse day, I failed the selection to go to college I'm aiming for. there is an alternate way by taking a test but it was a huge and important thing for me, because other relatives would talk (or possibly brag) about how their children are doing wonderfully in academic stuff to my parents. I don't want my parents to feel embarrassed because of me. so of course, it gives me a LOT of anxiety. my heart is beating rapidly that my chest hurts so much.

Then I receive your response to my ask. It's very comforting, it calmed me down. I may teared up a bit. I really appreciate the advices, encouragements, and hugs. (I love hugs) Especially mod komaeda's advices. Thank you so much, I appreciate them. They really mean a lot to me. I didn't realize how much I needed all of these. To be honest, when I was re-reading my ask, I almost can't believe I typed all that. I didn't realize how much I struggled and desperate I am. It was truly a moment of weakness lmao

I've been struggling to respond your response because,, well. I'm still struggling haha. Unfortunately, after I send that ask, things are getting hella rough for me. It was one of those unlucky phase of time, where your days get worse each day, except this time is WAY worse because I'm going to graduate in a month and I have an important exam in two days. Then I got hit by other problems too like a member of my group project doesn't corporate so we were late to submit and it was even half done (it happened just a hour ago and it gives me an emotional breakdown because it was an important one but I'm fine now), I got blamed for something I didn't do (this happens a lot anyway but I'm very drained mentally and physically), I accidentally spat something that I've been keeping to myself to my parents and made them angry (I don't want to talk about my true feelings to them bc they only make me feel worse or worse, they get upset), more homeworks to catch up and more stressful stuff .

Basically anxiety is on my ass 24/7. It's the worst time of my life.

But whenever I hit rock bottom I would re-read your response and it lifts me up, you know? It always cheers me up reading your kind words about me, and as cheesy as it sounds, it makes me feel hopeful haha. But I never felt this hopeful before. So I'm very thankful for it, and thankful for the other mods who work hard helping other people too who come to this blog. Because even though I'm still struggling and facing the worst time right now, I'm not doing as bad as before.

Is it alright if I ask for another hug? Sorry, this whole ask ended up with me venting again haha. But I really am doing not as bad as before... I guess I'm doing better. Step by step maybe. Again, thank you so much!!

( By the way, this is out of topic but... hopefully people who know me don't recognize me on this blog for this question haha (if they do then oh well. shrugs): which one does look scarier for you, Once-ler from Lorax or the character designs from the movie called Cats (2019)? I'm not hating the movie, my friend and I are having a lighthearted discourse about it. u_u )

(Neither. Neither one is even that scary at all, for I fear nothing ~ Mod Hajime 🍊🌈)

---

O-Oh, welcome back, kiddo! Whoa, that’s quite the ask you got here. But it’s more or less an update, i-if I’m correct, and a decent one at th-that. Like you said, it’s all step by step progress, wh-which is still progress no matter how you look at it.

I-I hate to hear that there’s been a few extra bumps along the road since your last ask, b-but I’m at least glad to hear that you’ve been making some sort of progress. Progress is still progress, no matter what. I-I’m just glad that you came to us. I-I’m just some average programmer, but I will agree that Nagito and Rantaro did amazing. Nagito’s... quite the interesting kiddo, but he means well, and Rantaro’s a brotherly figure th-that everyone likes, one way or another. Me? Ah, well... I-I can at least give good hugs, I guess?

S-Speaking of hugs, I’d love to give you one. I-I can at least do that right, heh. I’ll give you as many hugs as you want, kiddo. I personally don’t mind at all.

Hey there anon, you don't have to worry about referring to yourself, I remember you just fine! Hey, how's that for awesome timing huh? I'm glad you could read our answers when you needed it. I'm sorry to hear that you were having a worse day, but hey, it sounds like there's a way to make that test up a different way, so I'd give your all to trying that route. Don't give up just yet ok? Damn, yeah, I'm no stranger to the whole family bragging thing, that's a whole lot of pressure I think both of us can do without. It's really thoughtful of you to worry about your parents in this scenario, but you can worry about yourself too ok? Regardless of what you do, they should still be proud of you, and if they aren't, they're completely oblivious to your intelligence level and the amazing things you can do. Aw, I'm smiling real hard hearing how much our response helped, I'm always worried that I didn't help, or I somehow made it worse. Not gonna lie, this did give me a confidence boost. Hey, it's ok, you were in a more emotional state. It wasn't a moment of weakness. Everyone breaks down like that from time to time, and I'm happy that we were here to help you at the time. So don't feel bad about that, you're only human, and it's ok to get like that.

You don't have to worry about having the perfect response either. As much as I wish we could, we can't automatically fix any anons' problems, we can only toss our two cents in and cross our fingers that it helps. The good news is that you came to us with your struggles again, so we can try to help some more. Eesh, yeah, those periods are never fun. Pretty sure Komaeda knows more about them than I do, but I can understand at the least. First of all, congrats on graduating! That's real impressive all by itself, so hopefully you can take some pride in that. Ugh, ok, wow, the second part of that. Damn I got hit with all the feels. I hate it when group projects go like that. I'm usually stuck with all the work, or the one who's up at one am trying to finish the damn thing. I think I'm getting kinda incoherent, so sorry about that. I'm glad you're doing better on that end though, hopefully things work out with that. Aw man, I'm really sorry to hear about the blaming thing. Is there any way to prove your innocence? I'm not saying go all class trial or anything, but is there any way for you to argue your case? Even if it happens a lot, that doesn't mean it's ok. You shouldn't have to get used to things like that.

Yikes, yeah I can totally relate to the last part too. I'm also the type to clam up about my feelings because I don't wanna make anyone mad, but that happens some times, and honestly you had every right to say how you feel. You're keeping this all in, and it's gonna take a toll on you. Yeah, that's a whole lot of stress for one person to carry. I'm really impressed you haven't crashed and burned under the weight, seriously, you're an amazing, strong, resilient/ person, and it just blows me away. Trust me, you're gonna get through this stressful time. You're getting close to the end of it, and I know that you're gonna make it through. Damn, I'm smiling and blushing now. I'm really really glad we were able to help you out that much. Good! It's not cheesy at all! I'm glad you're feeling hopeful! The little steps are just as valuable as the big ones, and the fact that you're at least doing a little bit better is fantastic. Of course you can have another hug! It's ok, we're here to listen to vents, so say whatever you want to, no one's gonna judge you, I promise. Yeah, step by step, that's how you do it.

Oh damn, that's an interesting question. Honestly, I unironically love the Lorax movie, so the Oncerler ain't scary to me. Cats however...that was a trip. I don't have a better way to describe it, it was just a trip. So the Cats designs are way scarier. Like if I met the Onceler in a dark alley, I'd be just fine, but if I saw a cat-human-thing in a dark alley, I'd run for the hills. However, if I met the onceler fandom in a dark alley, that's a whole other story. Ok, I think I'm rambling again, so I think I better stop talking. Keep making those small steps forward ok? You got this.

W-wow... my advice actually helped someone? Please tell me your joking, or better yet pinching me. I can’t believe my little words could affect you so much.... I think I’m tearing up... hehe. I gotta admit, Rantaro and Taichi did a better job than me! What else do you expect from two amazing Ultimates! Anon, I’m terribly sorry to hear that some things have turned up and made your life a bit more harder, but I want you to keep your chin up ok? You’re doing amazing Anon, I can truly tell! Having a partner that doesn’t help with group projects stinks too! It’s ok that you vented again, it’s always good to speak your mind when you feel bad! Helps to let other people hear to so they can help you! And hey, compliments from Taichi? So nice of you! Never heard myself being called an “interesting kiddo” it’s cute!

I thought you’d never ask! I’d love to give you another hug! As long as you’d let me, I get worried when people want to hug me since I’m utter garbage, but if it makes you feel Hope, then I’m happy to oblige! Ah, and the Onceler or the designs of cats? I’d say the cats, I remember everyone having the hots for the Onceler once, so he can’t be that bad, right?

#danganronpa #danganronpa roleplay blog #ask #taichi fujisaki #rantaro amami #nagito komaeda #mod hajime #mod rantaro #mod nagito

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theonceoverthinker · 4 years

Text

The Search for the Spot

Summary: There are some things Clover won’t tell Qrow, things Qrow realizes he’ll have to find for himself. Now, if only Clover wasn’t so good at hiding those things.

AO3

(Don’t worry -- you’re all still getting one of the HCs tonight, too!, but my writing mojo is BACK mofos!!!! WAHOO!!!!)

As her prize in my 300 HC giveaway, @collectingsparechangemadeeasy requested a sequel to my fic “Say Uncle.” I’m not gonna spoil it here, but it was a pretty...unique piece of mine (That I actually made on my birthday!), and I’m so happy to do a follow up to it! You don’t need to read the original fic for this story, though you might enjoy the continuity. Thank you for the request and for your patience while I got my writing mojo back, @collectingsparechangemadeeasy! Enjoy!

()()()()()()()()

Qrow knows desperation and what it means to fight the seemingly impossible off to the bitter, bitter end far better than most anyone else alive these days.

He knows what it’s like to cling to hope, even when it’s at its faintest, to grit his teeth at a world determined to bring him down, or to not have hope, but fight anyways just because it’s the right thing to do.

It’s painful, thankless, requires determination, and involves eternally balancing on the edge of sanity as hope dangles possibilities in front of him like a hunk of cheese at the center of a mousetrap.

Qrow’s seen it all before, lived it all before, and survived it all before.

He understands that the lessons that kind of existence teaches don’t abandon you, even after peace begins to blossom in your life in the same way it does with an elegant flower.

Giving up is never the answer, no matter how exhausted and out of your wits you are.

It’s especially not an option when your husband stares at you with that same infuriating smirk of his that he’s always had, reveling in your failure as he says the one word you wish more than anything for him not to say.

“Nope.”

The word is simple, yet merciless -- dumbfounding, and mocking through its sheer existence.

Never before has Qrow Branwen hated a word so much as he decides in this moment he hates this four-lettered abomination.

Qrow looks up from his spot on the floor and meets Clover’s eyes. He hopes to find falsehood in them, any kind of betrayal of his words in their sea green shine, a stray crinkle in the nearby skin, the tiniest bit of dilation to suggest a truth different than what he just stated.

There’s nothing of the sort to be found.

More than anything, he wants to throw a pillow at his head just for that.

Even still, he can’t quite loosen his grip on Clover’s foot just yet.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he grunts instead.

“Does it look like I’m kidding you?” Clover retorts.

To be fair, with that damned smirk on his face, he almost does.

But even as he seethes on the truth, Qrow knows better than to doubt it, not after he’s met and confirmed the words and his husband’s face for himself.

“I’m going to find it,” Qrow promises. There’s the slightest temptation to smile, but he commends his sense of petulance for dominating it and perfectly maintaining his frown.

“I’m sure you will,” Clover humors, his smirk now a jovial smile, albeit, not the one Qrow was hoping to see as a result of his endeavors. He’d make it a reality one day. “Eventually. Just not today.”

Qrow shoots his husband a grouchy look.

How does he manage to argue with his unvoiced thoughts like that, and make it seem like he didn’t do that at all?

What kind of superhuman mind reader is he involved with?

“Hey,” Clover continues, taking Qrow away from those thoughts just as quickly as he pushed him into them. “While you’re down there, feel like giving me a foot rub?”

Qrow attempts to push Clover’s foot out of his hands -- a silent, yet firm answer to his inquiry -- but Clover applies just enough pressure to the limb to weigh it down so he can’t.

“Please?” Clover begs, now making a face littered with puppy dog eyes.

Really, how over-the-top can he get?

Well, Qrow reminds himself, it is Clover. Over-the-top is to him like peanut butter is to jelly.

“Not a chance.”

Once more, Qrow tries to get Clover’s foot away from him, but Clover ensures that it stays right where it is.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Clover offers, flexing his toes, “if you make it worth my while, that is.” There’s then a relaxation of tension in Clover’s foot. This is the last time he’ll ask -- and the last time this offer will be on the table for Gods’ knows how long.

The manipulative ass.

Why did he marry him again?

Something about love and understanding?

Beats him right about now.

Qrow glares at the foot. His pride half shouts at him to reject the offer out of hand -- literally. He’ll find out what he needs to know on his own. It might take him some time, but hey -- they’ve got a lifetime together for Qrow to work with.

However, Clover’s good at hiding things when he wants to, and he’s clearly really wanted to hide this. Qrow’s checked all the usual spots. That only leaves the abundance of unusual spots to explore.

He’s been good at hiding this for so long…

Maybe a little hint would be just what he needs to finally get his answer.

Qrow’s thumb begins kneading the ball of Clover’s big toe and without even looking at Clover’s face, he can feel the smile on his husband’s face for his triumph.

Gods, this is humiliating...

The foot’s sibling slides down to just beside Qrow’s right knee seconds after he starts rubbing it.

“One at a time,” Qrow groans.

Clover smiles and lays back in their armchair, his hands behind his head.

“No problem with that,” he says, “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“So what’s my hint?”

Qrow’s hands haven’t been stretched this much in a while. He’d relax them against his pants, but he has a feeling he’d better wait to wash them first.

Clover’s feet aren’t what he’d call stinky necessarily, but he wouldn’t eat off them anytime soon.

Speaking of, Clover’s feet, now on the ground, flex, his toes jumping up and down like waves on the seashore just to show off how good they feel.

“You certainly did a good job,” Clover praises.

“And I don’t need to tell you that a good job deserves a good reward,” Qrow points out, smirking, ready to put together whatever it is Clover tells him and find what he’s spent weeks looking for.

“Okay,” Clover teases. He leans into Qrow’s ear and begins whispering. “Here’s your tip: It’s somewhere you like to touch a lot.”

Qrow’s mouth falls open.

He cannot be serious.

That can’t be it.

It just can’t be.

However, as Qrow sees Clover pop away from him just as quickly as he came near him, it becomes quite clear that that’s all Clover’s giving him.

“No,” Qrow protests, in the bluntest matter-of-fact tone he can muster. “I reject this hint, and demand a better one.”

Clover smirks. “And why’s that?”

As if Clover doesn’t already know.

Qrow can tell right away exactly what his husband wants to hear: That he enjoys touching every part of him, so the hint is no clue.

Well, no. He’s not getting that kind of ego trip, not when he pulls a stunt like this.

“You know damn well why, Clover.” They’ve both noticed how the tone of Qrow’s voice has raised significantly since he last spoke.

Clover -- still smiling, still always smiling -- presses his lips together.

“I have n-no idea what you mean,” he says, obviously attempting and failing to create an innocent aire about him.

There are a lot of innocent things about Clover.

This isn’t one of them.

It’s so clear how much Cover just wants to give up the facade of a pretense he’s holding up and start roaring with laughter as he stands there looking like a shaken soda bottle waiting to be opened.

And if Qrow’s being honest with himself, it’s probably pretty clear that Qrow wants to hear that very same laughter. He just wanted it to be delivered to him in a very different context than it will be now.

Well, if Clover’s about to have some fun at his expense, then he may as well get a bit of retribution for it.

In one quick, fluid notion, Qrow grabs a throw pillow from the couch beside him and flings it right into Clover’s chest.

Immediately, Clover groans, his chest folding in half from the pillow as he tries to diminish the pain.

Clover’s grunt has Qrow laughing, and much to his petulance but a moment later, it seems to have had the same effect on Clover himself.

“I thought this was a tickle fight,” Clover wheezes through his laughter, still semi-keeled over from his feathery wound, “not a pillow fight.”

Qrow smirks. “All’s fair in love and tickling, especially when you give me that kind of clue after I just rubbed your feet.”

“Speaking of fair,” Clover retorts, “in all fairness, you were the one who trapped me and started tickling my feet, so convinced that you got the right spot this time. Sorry I’m not as easy to tickle as you, but really, this is all your doing.”

That cheeky bastard.

Qrow, half shouting, pushes his feet-smelling hands into Clover’s face.

“This is what I had to deal with for a half hour!”

Clover laughs, trying to push him away.

“Gross! Cut it out!”

Qrow, now laughing too, keeps at it.

“Give me a better hint!”

Qrow keeps pushing Clover backwards. It only occurs to Qrow that they might have gone a bit too far back when he feels the front of their armchair knock against his shins.

Clover, clearly trying to stabilize himself, loops his arm around Qrow’s waist. However, Qrow’s mid-fall by the point that he does, and onto the armchair they go...and as their momentum hits the armchair with the force of a bullet train, their trip takes an extra, far more bumpy stop.

Limbs find themselves tangled and incoherent sounds fly into the open air as the two of them, plus their chair, hit the floor. The landing thuds throughout their home and spreads dust from the chair’s bottom flying across the space behind them. Qrow’s hand moves to massage his chin, and Clover arches his back to relieve it of the armchair’s tension.

They look at each other. Qrow feels the chaos they caused in so little time spark all around them. He can tell Clover feels the same.

Then...they laugh. They laugh, and laugh, and laugh some more.

Qrow feels Clover’s hands on his back and the stench of Clover’s feet on Qrow’s hands transfer to Clover’s shirt as they hug, practically giggling all the while as they embrace.

Minutes pass in this state before they help each other up and get to work setting their living room back to normal. Qrow straightens out the carpet and slaughters some dust bunnies with the help of a nearby tissue box and wastebasket while Clover resets the throw pillows and the armchair.

When it’s finally done, they turn to each other again.

“I’m going to find it,” Qrow says, repeating his promise from earlier, but now grinning from ear to ear. Clover looks at him like he’s the world’s most enticing mystery novel. Once upon a time, that would’ve been enough to blush until his cheeks were more like tomatoes than human skin, but now, any discoloration like that comes from moments just like these -- laughter, annoyance, chaos, love, and everything in between.

“I know you will,” Clover says, shoulders rising and falling in the same way a balloon floats in a child’s hand. “But I’m gonna make it fun for myself until you do.”

Really, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Clover and Qrow approach each other, hands gently taking hold of arms once they’re close enough to do so.

“Well, go for it,” Qrow says, leaning his head forward until it makes contact with his husband’s shit, hanging just above his heart. “Want to know why?”

Clover rests his head on Qrow’s shoulder. Qrow can feel his smile touch Qrow’s on their cheeks.

“Enlighten me,” Clover says, a chuckle bubbling underneath him.

Qrow’s never been the greatest with words, but in this moment, he knows exactly what to say.

“Because when it comes to you, giving up’s never going to be an option.”

#fair game #qrow branwen #clover ebi #rwby #lucky charms #luckbirds #luck birds #fairgame #qrow x clover #qrover

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sinsiriuslyemo · 4 years

Text

Dearest Readers,

I know I’ve been absent during this quarantine and for that I’m sorry. It’s been pretty crazy to have to do distance learning with my six-year-old, but we’re getting by. I’ll be honest, I almost messaged the amazing @thefanficfaerie to tell her that I wouldn’t be able to do this, but the more I realized that I hadn’t created in what seemed like forever and thought about how much I missed interacting with you guys on here, the more I wanted to complete this challenge.

So I did what I always do, I sat down with three loose-leaf sheets and played “Penny and Me” by Hanson on a loop until this came out. I didn’t intend to be so on the nose with this one nor did I intend to use our current situation with covid19 in the fic, but here we are. Thank you so so much to @thefanficfaerie for creating this challenge! Also, thank you so much to @italiandoll1129 for betaing this little diddy. I hope you guys enjoy this little imagine and I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe <3

Sinceriously,

Amanda

Your life up to the point when the world stopped had largely been made up of acoustics and half note runs. Countless moments captured in a simple bar, a single verse, a reprised chorus. Music was your lifeblood, the ticking of the muscle that resided deep in your chest and then--just a few short weeks ago--silence. The world stopped turning, life as you knew it upended, and the music in your soul faded without refrain. It seemed survival had been triggered when the governor implemented a stay-at-home order and music became little more than a distant memory of better days.

Rafael had been more than annoyed at the disruption of his carefully crafted schedule, but had it not been for his steadfast reasoning and patience you surely would have sunk deep into the dark, bottomless pit of despair and hopelessness. Your loving, quick-witted ADA was the brain that steadied the storm in your heart. Had it not been for him you surely would have crumbled into a useless mess by day two of quarantine. Not that you weren’t on the edge every second of the day, but at least you were sure that if you did fall apart, Rafael would be there to put you back together again.

You sat on the bumped out window seat in the corner of the living room, pillow in your lap, sipping your mug of home-brewed coffee, staring at the lifeless street below. New York City had never been so quiet, but now all of its residents waited with bated breath for the virus that had halted all to pass. Even the criminal world seemed to be practicing social distancing, though an uptick in domestic violence was certainly keeping Rafael busy. For the creatives of the world, however, the coronavirus seemed to slowly poison the well of inspiration, leaving little else aside from disconnection and isolation despite the countless public figures proclaiming “alone, together.” Or whatever they were saying.

“Mi amor?” You heard Rafael’s voice from down the hall and let your forehead gently touch the cold, glass surface of the window as your eyes closed. “Y/N, we should go to the store today and pick up a few things, what do you think?”

You inhaled through your nose and turned your head to look back at him, offering a weak smile. “Yeah, maybe they’ll have toilet paper this time.” How had toilet paper become more valuable than the dollar bill seemingly overnight?

Closing the distance between the two of you, your boyfriend brought the back of his fingers to your cheek, corner of his lips quirking upward. His touch had always been enough to calm the emotional tornado that stress brewed inside you. Especially lately, you had become acutely aware of his ability to make you believe that everything would be alright.

“This is all temporary,” he would say. It never took very much convincing on his part as long as his skin was making contact with yours.

“We still have plenty for at least a week or two,” he said as he moved to sit on the other side of the window seat, facing you.

Pursing your lips, you nodded. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra on hand, just in case.” You tried to leave it at that instead of allowing a worst-case-scenario to form in your mind. The governor’s instructions had been clear: stay home, wash your hands, social distance until the curve flattened, remain calm. Despite your own paranoia, the world was not actually on fire...or if it was at least it wouldn’t be forever, and in truth as long as you had Rafael by your side, all would be well. Though it was times like this that made you wish you believed in God. There were moments when you envied Rafael in that sense; most of all now, when a magical sky-daddy would be a welcomed reprieve from the ever-rising death toll and unemployment rates.

“Honey, we have to stay calm and not panic-buy, okay?” Rafael said, reaching for your hand. “You should try to keep yourself busy. You know how your anxiety gets when you sit still for too long without something to focus on.”

“I know, I just…” You ran a hand through your hair and grimaced when you realized you hadn’t showered the day before. “I can’t slow my brain enough to create anything coherent.”

“So create something incoherent,” he suggested with a bob of his shoulders. “Or, instead of writing music, why don’t you just play some songs you enjoy or learn to play one?” You could sense your lips trying to form a smile as your thumb stroked over the skin between his knuckles. “I just know how important music is in your life. It always makes you feel better.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you said in a whisper as your eyes fell to your joined hands. “Maybe I could go live on Instagram,” you added carefully. “I’ve seen a lot of people talking about how scared they are, too.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I thought we agreed you should stay off social media for now.”

In the beginning of your self-isolation, you spent nearly every waking minute refreshing your Twitter and Instagram feeds, which in turn, had served only to fuel your anxiety and almost caused a panic attack. The logical thing was to avoid social media; the daily press conferences and videos from Philip DeFranco were more than enough to keep you updated on the situation without causing you to cry yourself to sleep because Dr-Random-Twitter-Handle had posted about his hospital’s desperate need for PPE, and how a portion of his staff had become sick, which would convince you that this was in fact the end of the world and there was literally nothing that could be done to stop it.

So yeah, no social media had been the plan.

However, your desire to share music had been a part of you since you could remember, and especially at a time like this, music could be the very thing to soothe people’s fears, even if only a little bit.

“I know but I can’t help but wonder whether playing where other people can hear would help in some small way,” you said.

Rafael lowered his eyes as if in thought, nodding once. “What if you opened the window so the neighbors could hear?” His gaze came back to meet yours. “It’s been pretty quiet the last few weeks.”

It had been quiet in the neighborhood since all the bars and clubs shut down, including Penny and Me’s, the bar just downstairs that normally featured live music, which would fill the entire neighborhood and carry over to the next block. You smiled at your boyfriend.

“You don’t think people might get annoyed?”

“No,” he answered. “I think people are reaching for as many positive things as they can get. And some music, especially when the neighborhood has been so eerily quiet, might be just the thing that makes them feel normal again. Even if it’s only for a moment.”

You eyed your guitar in the far corner of the living room, leaning against the bookcase that held countless escapes into other worlds. Normally when reality came to be too much, a mix of other worlds and strums on your guitar would be enough to keep you from losing it completely. But right then, when the world as you knew it was forever changed, you couldn’t justify leaving it, even to save your sanity.

“And,” Rafael added. “If anyone complains, they’ll have me to deal with.”

You snorted, standing and opening the window before you went to pick up your guitar. Sitting back on the window seat, you took your time tuning it while your eyes periodically wandered, looking for an idea of what song to play. From the corner of your eye, you saw Rafael take out his phone, tap his screen a few times before he held it up. You knitted your brows at him; wasn’t he just trying to talk you out of going live?

“I just realized your family might want to hear you play,” he said as though he’d been inside your head. “What are you gonna play, corazon?”

“I don’t know.” Your gaze fell on the unlit, cursive lettering on the building across the street and the familiar chalkboard by the door that now read, “Stay home. Stay safe.”

With a gentle smile, you began to strum an intro of chords, the beginning of a song that was written strictly as a love letter to music, highlighting the importance of a song in our hearts and how a simple, familiar melody could remind us of our favorite moments in our lives. Music, without which the world would be a much darker place, the one thing that in an instant could heal a hole in your heart, the thing that often formed fond memories of nights up late by the fireplace. Music that could speak for you with such clarity if you had trouble forming words.

“That’s not obvious at all,” Rafael mumbled after hearing you sing the first chorus.

“Hush, you,” you replied quickly, not missing a single strum. “Cause Penny and Me like to roll the windows down…”

As you sang through the full chorus, a second voice joined in from below. Rafael carefully stepped closer to the window, mindful to keep his phone pointed in your direction as he leaned to stick his head out the open square.

“Lawrence?” you heard him call out between lyrics.

“Hey Rafael!” the voice replied. “And Penny and Me like to gaze at starry skies…”

Your ADA chuckled under his breath when a third voice sounded from further down the building, and a fourth from above. By the time you reached the bridge, it was as though half the block joined in. Your focus was on keeping time with your strums against the strings, but your skin had prickled into goosebumps at the sound of your neighbors singing along with you.

For the first time since you’d been stuck inside, it actually felt like despite the fact that you were all self-isolating, none of you were alone. In that moment, the entire block of 82nd street was one, singing through their pain and loneliness, belting their affections for each other simply by joining you in a cover of an early 2000s tune by one of the original popstars of the 90s. Through the final chorus you could hear the longing, the desire to be together truly once again, going to Penny and Me’s for a drink after a long week and weaving in and out of clusters of people on the sidewalk to get home after it got late. It reminded you that New Yorkers were fighters, that you had all seen worse than this pandemic and that one day soon you would be reminiscing about where you were during the 2020 pandemic that had paused the world and forced people to appreciate each other just a little bit more. The time when music, as always, kept you connected while you distanced.

“Do you think this is going to go viral?” Rafael asked no one in particular after you’d played the final chord of the song.

“I don’t think so, it’s a fairly obscure song,” you answered with a grin as you leaned back against the window sill, allowing the breeze to blow strands of hair against your face.

“Still,” Rafael mumbled as he tagged your parents in the post and, at your request, tagged the song and the virus for easy reference if you needed a pick-me-up later in the night. “Okay, I’m gonna head out to the store. Did you wanna come?”

“I think I’m gonna stay here,” you answered, rolling your head to one side until your eyes met his. “I should clean the bathroom...and myself. Then afterward, I might try to work on some more music.”

The smirk you knew all too well flashed in your direction as he closed the space between you to kiss your forehead. “Maybe without the window being open. The neighbors didn’t mind a song they knew, but the last thing we’d want is to disrupt their marathon of Tiger King.”

“Speaking of which, they added an episode,” you said.

“They did?”

“Yep, Carol Baskins isn’t in it though, from what I’ve heard,” you said.

“Fucking Carol Baskins. Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, tops,” he said, going to the door and putting on his coat. “When I get back, I think we should make dinner and watch that episode.”

“And after that?”

He bobbed his shoulders. “You’ve been trying to get me to watch Lost for years. Maybe now is when you do.”

“I don’t know if I wanna watch a show about a plane that disappears to an island no one knows about. We’ll see what my paranoia level is by the time we finish the last Tiger King episode.”

“Well, you know I’ve been dying for you to watch Catch-22,” he replied with a smirk.

You paused a moment, grimacing at the thought of the show adaptation of a Joseph Heller novel that you hadn’t very much enjoyed in the first place. “Lost it is.”

#rafael barba #rafael x reader #aprilchallenge

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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Playing Pretend (4)

Requested by: @calkesttiss | Prompt:

Hi! I just watched isi & ossi (rich girl and poor boxer boy AH) on netflix and now i cant stop thinking about cal and fake dating. Do with that what you will 😂

Cal Kestis x Reader

1 | 2 | 3 | Next: Part 5 | Masterlist

4 of ?

Cal found a way down the building and walked his way back to the Mobara Palace, one of the few cantinas in the Capital that have docking bays. The Mobara Palace was one of the biggest in the city too; occupying a whole block to cover the bar itself as well as the elaborate network of paths that connect the bays to one another, with the cantina at the starting point of it all.

The Mantis’s entrance ramp hissed and lowered, opening the door before him. An aromatic waft was the first to welcome him upon his entry.

“Looks like Greez is cooking something good,” he comments to BD-1.

As he entered the ship, Greez’s dual pairs of arms were all over the pantry and yet each arm was carefully distributed to a certain task in cooking.

“Smells good, Greez!” Cal beamed.

“Oh good, you’re just in time for dinner—with all that wandering around you’re doing, you’re probably hungry,”

He joined the others at the table as soon as Greez lifted the pot from the stove and served everyone their own plates. The meal was solemn and yet there was a warm aura emanating around them. Cal decided to up the mood by striking a conversation.

“How long do you guys still think we’re gonna stay here until this blows over?”

A silence at the dinner table. Cere’s eyes shifted, she searched Greez’s face and studied his reaction toward Cal’s question. There was only one possible and realistic answer, but the boy doesn’t seem to concur with it.

“Cal,” she clears her throat. “You do understand why…”

Before she could even reiterate her question, Cal already knew this mere dinner table conversation was going to be another lecture.

“I know. We’re hiding from the loan shark that Greez borrowed the money from to get this ship,”

It was an embarrassing truth, but a truth nonetheless. Greez felt like the situation required him to say a piece.

“Look, kid, we can scrape by with what we have. I mean, I still got coin on me—but not that enough to cover the loan plus with its interest!”

“Odd jobs, honest jobs, aren’t gonna cut it in a short time, Greez. At least you would know that, of all people,” Cal argued.

Cal had been wandering around the city looking for a quick way to earn some coin in the quickest way possible. The downtown and underground areas of the planet had some questionable methods of earning money—but they were easy money. Although Cal had grown up with street smarts, part of that knowledge is when and where a solution is either a real solution or another problem later on.

“You know the Sabacc, don’t ya?” Greez whispered with the left corner of his mouth directed to Cal.

“Greez, we are not going with gambling!” Cere sternly exclaimed. The impact of her fork dropping against the plate was just as scary as a fist landing on the table like a gavel.

There was another silence amongst them again. Cere continued on with her own piece.

“We cannot endanger anyone in our crew with something that won’t be worth our while. I don’t mind pretending to be some stranger in a different name just so we can have someplace to stay safe together. But I will not allow anybody in this ship to get into something that would jeopardize themselves or the crew altogether, understand?”

Cere’s outburst hardened the silence. Everybody understands that she hasn’t outgrown her military discipline from her days of participating in the Clone Wars—and she’s utilizing them in predicaments such as these amongst the Mantis crew members.

These episodes of hers were occasional, therefore it made her unpredictable, intimidating, but somehow her aggressive delivery doesn’t outweigh her rationale or true motive. Everybody—Cal, Greez, Merrin, and ultimately BD-1—knew that she means well and that she always will.

Cere processed what just had happened with her. She attempted to recompose herself in the midst of the awkwardness. She cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s fine, Cere,” Greez consoles.

The dinner proceeds. Cal wondered if the girl he met yesterday and bumped into just now would be a better subject to talk about.

“I met someone last night. Bumped into her again,”

All heads turn to Cal.

“She frequents a pub not too far from here. I always see her near or inside that place. Maybe if I bump into her again, I’ll ask her where I can find a place to get some cash—and a clean one at that,”

“Are you sure she is to be trusted?” Cere maintained her stern tone even after recomposing herself.

Cal was so sure of his judgment about you. He recalled the moments where you two were together. He felt your kindness and compassion—he knew of your good intentions, you meant no harm—but he also sensed some sort of sadness in you.

“You probably have heard of Senator Bail Organa?” Cere takes the conversation reins.

Cal shrugs, “Yeah sure, I know him. I saw him sometimes in the Senate Building in Coruscant.”

“Well, he knows of our presence here—don’t worry, he doesn’t know about the loan shark at our tail—and he’s invited us to a social function,”

“Social function?” Cal raised his eyebrow at Cere’s unusual choice of word.

“Apparently, this party was being held by a colleague of his. Perhaps they needed to fill the guestlist,”

“Proxies,”

“Exactly.”

“How bad can a few no-show guests be? It’s not like it’s gonna dent their bank account when the catering bill comes!” Greez dryly joked and it was the received likewise.

In light of this new announcement, Cal began to wonder how long does he have to stay in the party before he could sneak back out in the streets and find the unusual girl who had to drag him up a rooftop from the Tipsy Taun-Taun just to ask for some self-defense moves.

The following days passed until the day of the banquet has come. That morning, your mother personally made sure that you don’t sleep in and get yourself ready as quickly as possible. She also announced that the stylists are coming in half an hour.

“Mom, I’m perfectly capable of doing my own makeup!” You detest despite still being groggy from being woken up without your consent.

You force yourself out of bed so that you could take a shower. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the luxury of staying too long in the bath—however, you sorely wished you did. You slid deeper into the cold, ivory and gold-trimmed bathtub until only your eyes are on the surface.

A pounding on the door disturbed your watery peace.

“[y/n], hurry up!” your mother growled from the other side.

“Almost done!” you cried back.

You were actually done minutes ago, you only chose to soak yourself for a bit longer with the wishful thinking that they’ll never realize that you’ve locked yourself in your own bathroom. You’d love that though.

“No one could ever go wrong with black,” you muttered as you pulled out an off-shouldered black cocktail dress with stars and planets embroidered with golden thread.

You made quick work of yourself. You did your hair and makeup: applying minimal makeup as possible, you wore your hair down and clipped a silver headband on both ends with four tiers of golden cords hanging over on top of the other. Staring back at yourself in the mirror, a brush in your hand slides down to the length of your hair; with every stroke, you ponder if all this your parents are doing is ever worth it either for themselves or for the family.

You sigh for an answer, or lack thereof. Afterwards, you donned the dress and the shoes—both pieces were in black. The finishing touch—a personal one at that—was a pair of leather fingerless gloves.

“Here goes nothing,” a mantra you tell yourself before exiting your room in attendance to any social gathering you were obliged to attend.

The party started without you. No surprise in that, you thought. Nevertheless, you made your way to ballroom where the chatter of the guests became more and more audible yet incoherent as their voices meddled.

Immediately, you searched for Tazha in the room. She wasn’t easy to miss. Her glittering dress outshines everyone else’s, literally making her a beacon for you to easily see her. You walk up to her.

“Oh you look great!” she compliments.

“Thanks, you too,”

Suddenly, one of the Ithrel sons, Logan who was the third son and was the same age as you, appears ot be walking toward you with what you thought is the stupidest grin you’ve ever seen on a face. He comes in strong by grabbing you by the waist, reel you in for a kiss except you successfully dodged it with your gloved hand.

“Logan? What the hell are you doing?!”

“Well, your mom paid me to flirt with you until you end up falling in love with me, I’ll have a chance in the Junior Legislator’s Program! Plus, we get to support your family until your dad becomes Senator or whatever, I mean, we don’t have a choice on that, we just gotta roll with it,” he beamed with an imbecile’s optimism. “Big bonus if we ever get married though. I mean, she wanted that to happen. So, marry me?”

“Hold up. She did what now?”

Logan repeated your own mother’s plan, he reiterated that this part wasn’t even in the original agreement. Your mother had to negotiate her way through the Ithrels in promising a much stronger bond of support to your family—therefore, you became a sacrificial lamb.

You and Tazha exchanged glances. Both of you communicated clearly through the furrows of your brows and the hard rolling of your eyes. A gradual burst of rage was flowing in your bloodstreams.

“Oh my God, this is just sad and pathetic of you, Logan,” Tazha condescendingly comments.

“I’m gonna give her a piece of my mind tonight,” you growled, your knuckles were white from gripping the bannister too hard.

You searched for your mother in the ballroom. When you spotted her and your father speaking with some guests, you marched through the sea of people until you reached her.

“Mother, may I speak with you?”

Yasina excused herself from her guest and she was in for a surprise with what is about to go down.

“You paid one of the Ithrel sons to date me?! Because you thought that would strengthen your connection with them just so Dad can secure his win in the election? You did this without me knowing? Whatever the hell happened to consent, Mom!?”

“[y/n] Elvas Torvel, I do not allow you to speak to me with a tone like that in an important event like this!” Yasina hissed, struggling to maintain her composure—both mentally and physically—after just being bombarded with questions by her daughter.

“Did you even ever stop to think how I’d feel if you paired me with a complete imbecile?!”

“[y/n], honey, please listen,” your father intervenes but the argument was heating up between you and your mother.

“The Ithrels are a good family. They uphold a clear reputation. We Torvels and Ithrels would be a great collaborative enterprise,”

“You don’t see the problem here, Mom? I don’t want to get married!”

Yasina was silent. Her face was completely aghast: her eyes wide open, her lip was trembling as if wanting to say something but couldn’t because of so much nerves thrashing underneath her skin.

“You will not ruin this event for your own selfish, adolescent needs, young lady. We are not finished with this discussion.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on ending it soon.”

You walked out from your parents. Turning your back on them to wipe away the tears that was welling up in your eyes.

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diary-of-deadweight · 4 years

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BNHA short(kinda): My dude you just got PRANKED!

A Trolling Neito Monoma fic.

Authors note: this was inspired by a prompt I found on Pinterest.

Credit to rebel circus. (I had to squint to see if I was reading it right.)

Summary: after being tasked with vandalising one of monoma’s dress shirts, he’s out looking for the perpetrator but with less then stellar luck it seems.

“For today’s homework assignment-“ a unified groan resounded throughout the classroom at the prospect at doing homework until their hands ached made Aizawa’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance of being interrupted by the slackers of the class like Denki, Kirishima, Mina and Sero to name a few, “do you think the hero life is all glitz and glamour?” Asked the blunt, dry eyed and sleep deprived homeroom teacher rhetorically, awaiting the snarky comments to fly out of the kids mouths like bullets about how boring or how necessary they thought homework was when in actually it played a big factor, especially to those in the hero course, so when he heard the sweet sound of silence, something he wished would be a daily occurrence in Class 1-A but alas he could only dream and savour this moment into his head as it’ll be the only time it happens throughout the rest of the semester, “the answer I was looking for was no, even the pros have to do paperwork day in day out but you don’t hear them complain about it to the public now do you? So grow up and pretend to be ecstatic.”

He then proceeded to hand out the homework to everyone in the class one by one before proceeding to explain the material to you all, “ your homework, before I was so rudely interrupted,” He casted a sharp gaze to the Bakusquad in specific that it almost made Denki short circuit, “ is to create a constructive criticism analysis on your assigned classmate, I made sure that no one got anyone they were familiar with so you’ll make use of your brains for once, and how they can improve as a hero going forward into this course, it’ll be due in this time next week, class dismissed.” Aizawa waved all of you off, just in time as the bell rang out for lunch as he proceeded to crawl into his iconic yellow sleeping bag like a caterpillar who came out of his cocoon too early, which was apparently funny to you as that was exactly how you acted after a harsh day of training and a body load of aching muscles, scrapes and bruises, you couldn’t really complain though as becoming a hero requires intense training regimens and strict diets, so you knew that Aizawa was only doing what was beneficial for everyone in getting maximum results; you knew everyone in your class had the potential of becoming an awesome hero one day...except for Mineta...he’d be the biggest disappointment, you don’t have anything against the little creep but his personality stank like dog shit and it shows, no wonder his only ‘friend’ was the electric blonde with a short circuitry problem, you could withstand the flirtatious dunce more so then grape stain.

“Oi idiot,” a gruff voice cut through your thoughts like a hot knife through butter, turning your attention to the ash blonde leaning against the doorway, bag slumped over his shoulder as he stared at you with furrowed brows and crossed over arms, “you coming or do I have to drag you to eat something?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming keep your pants on angry chihuahua.” He growled at the nickname and that was pretty much all he did while you grabbed your bad and shove your notebook and your assignment inside with haste to then run out the door in order to catch up with Bakugou and his big ass strides that somehow didn’t falter under the weight of his big ass head as your journey to the canteen was riddled in silence and minimal conversations, which you didn’t really mind as you’d probably gain a headache if you went with Mina, Kirishima, Denki and Sero instead, you really didn’t know how Bakugou could deal with that constant noise and to be honest, he couldn’t stand it. At all. So he resorted to blocking out people’s obnoxious voices whenever he was with the group but today he decided that he should just walk to the canteen with you as you weren’t the most talkative nor were you a walking, talking headache either, something he appreciates but would refuse to admit it as his big ass ego stops him from doing so.

“Who did you get for the assignment,” he asked, straight to the point as ever, not bothering to engage in eye contact with you.

“Don’t know, I haven’t looked yet if I’m being honest.” You confessed, shrugging your shoulders, not really seeing why it would be of any consolation to him. “Well take a look now, no ones stopping you from doing so dumbass, you aren’t a dog patiently waiting for a treat.” He reaches a hand up to flick you on the forehead as if punishing your for your idiocy as you instinctually reached up to rub the spot he flicked to be rid of any stinging sensations, “your so mean katsushi!”

“It’s Katsuki. You dingbat.”

“Nope I’m pretty sure it’s Katsushi”

You two went back and forth like this for the rest of the walk so that when you were nearing the entrance of the canteen you noticed that Bakugou stopped walking some time ago, so turning to ask him what was wrong only to see his face contorted into anger at whatever he was seeing before him that was somewhat invisible to you for some reason the more you looked round the two of you fruitlessly, “ Oi Katsushi, what are yo-“ he grasped your cheeks in his hand with little to no pressure, turning your head so you could see where his scarlet eyes had narrowed in on.

It was class 1-Bs copy cat, the lilac eyed and avid hater of 1-A, Neito Monoma, the usually smug blonde was currently harassing all your friends, claiming that one of them at that table had vandalised his dress shirt that had scrawled across the back of it in blue marker and pretty pink glitter that was super glued within the heart outline was :

‘I ❤️ class 1-A’

You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for Bakugou cupping your face in his hand so instead all that came out of your mouth was incoherent spluttering which earned you some weird stares from the students walking past you and the crimson eyed time bomb to get into the canteen as you two were well...kinda blocking the path but no one was brave enough to say anything about it due to the Male next to you, speaking of the Male next to you, Bakugou had a smirk plastered on his face that would -hopefully, for his case- come off as cocky before his face automatically rested to his 24/7 ‘I’m going to kill you and make it look like an accident’ face the second Monoma caught sight of the two of you and was now currently in front of your faces, ignoring the personal space he was invading, by this time Bakugou finally let your face go from his grip as he clenched his fists at the sight of the copy cat that tried to make a fool out of him during the Calvary battle at the sports festival.

“Are either of you 1-A scumbags gonna fess up for tarnishing my shirt?!” The lilac eyed egotist shoved his -surprisingly- nice smelling dress shirt mingled with the scents of blueberry scented marker and dried glue under your noses as you mentally groaned at the intoxicating smell of men’s cologne but mainly one in specific and it seemed that Monoma HAD that specific cologne that made you weak in the knees, you just wanted to know what it was called so you could get bottles of it for yourself damn it!

“Why would your dumbass assume that it was me who did it huh? You’ve got some big balls copy cat” Bakugou stated with a scowl, staring Neito down just as he did the same, you swore you saw a little bolt of lighting spark between them the longer they looked at each other as if they were in a cliche anime where two of the characters stare each other down in anger with a bolt of light is struck between them to add effect for their feud or something while you tried bidding the fact that you were about to blow a fuse trying to hold back your laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation, to find your self slowly weaken and loose self control.

‘I can’t this is too funny!’

With that you bursted our laughing so hard that you had to lean into Bakugou for support so that you don’t fall to the tiled floor in a heap of laughing limbs, unable to stop for the time being, surly Monoma had more then just one dress shirt in his closet right? Unless it was his favourite dress shirt but still a reaction to a harmless prank like this was totally unnecessary and a tad dramatic for your tastes that when you finally calmed down from your laughing fit, you unknowingly gained the attention of nearly everyone in the canteen, who turned to see what the unnecessary loud laughing was about.

“ I didn’t do it Neito, I’m not that petty.”

“Then why did you laugh as loudly as you did, only people who committed the crime laugh as loudly as you did just now, so why don’t you admit it (l/n) and confess that you vandalised MY shirt.” Neito squinted his eyes suspiciously as if to get you to crack under pressure but what was there to crack when there is no pressure being placed upon, he was that bad at trying to get you to crack that you didn’t really feel like you were being put under pressure as of right now while Bakugou could only scoff and roll his eyes at Neito’s quick judgment.

“I was laughing because (1) it’s a natural response to something this stupid and (2) who ever did it is a freaking genius!” You defended yourself as the patience within Monoma was wearing thin and his plasticine face was growing redder by the second as he huffs in annoyance, turning on his heel and stomping back to his table to sulk about his tainted shirt to his reluctant classmates who found the situation just as ridiculous as you did.

So as you and Bakugou were waiting in line for some spicy curry he turned to you with a knowing look in his eye, “ you did it didn’t you?”

“What gave it away mr observant?”

“The scented markers and the glitter pot you “borrowed” from raccoon eyes’ room with false promises of returning it one day.”

You nodded your head, turning your head towards the line in front of you with an equally knowing look in your eyes, “well done Katsushi, I was dared by Denki to do so...plus I had some inside contact within class 1-B who found Monoma just about as intolerable as we do.”

Bakugou only grunted in response as he looked back at Monoma’s table where the blonde had his head resting upon the shoulder of a tense Tetsutetsu or ‘man of iron’ you had him named in you contacts.

“But seriously who’s the idiot you got before copy cat shoved his prized possession in our faces.”

#bnha imagines #bnha imagine #neito monoma imagines #neito monoma imagine #bnha #neito monoma #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki imagines #bnha x reader #anime imagines #anime imagine #anime x reader #neito monoma fic #bakugou katsuki fic #bnha fic #anime fic #my writting #im down for requests if you have any

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