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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years

Text

Opia Night 2

Vampire!Shinsou x reader

Warnings: alcohol mentions, mentions of blood, dumb mc, campy vampire bullshit, swearing

A/N: ahhhhh. okay. so. this was a tough write. I think I got stuck because i started taking myself too seriously and then i just started throwing words out left and right. this is very back and forth, no-goal-reached, bullshit. I mean, getting from point A to point B is r o u g h, bro. Im SO SORRY. I was trying to make this natural and it just AINT. she’s messy today and it’s fine. Gotta just post what we can when we can lmfao. SOO! I’m aware that this chapter isn’t good, but I do hope that you find it entertaining regardless! I promise Night 3 will be better!

(PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION)

Night One

Night Two

You woke up to your phone buzzing next to your head on your pillow. Once, twice, and the third double-vibration made you realize that you were not going to be going back to sleep any time soon. Blinking at your window, you groaned at the flecks of dust that were lit up by the golden remnants of twilight. You’d slept most of your Friday away after slaving away on your school work Monday through Thursday. You tried telling yourself that you deserved the rest, but sleeping through sunlight has become habitual to you when you had nothing else going on. When you woke up from your coma, you would usually sleep some more. Usually.

The phone on your bed was alight with three unread messages, all saying something different, but with the same invitation handed out:

Kirishima(7:02): hey :)

Sero(7:07): you busy?

Kaminari(7:15): babe! partaaay tonite!!!! come over!

Again, you groaned.

The last night you’d spent over at their house was a complete disaster. You totally embarrassed yourself by screaming out of nowhere. Or so it seemed to have come out of nowhere to everyone else who heard you; what you thought you had witnessed went completely unnoticed to everyone at the last party. But to you, it was so vivid.

Purple-haired-couch-kid. Fangs. Blood.

You completely freaked and locked yourself in the bathroom. It took both Kirishima and Sero to coax you out after you battled the idea of calling the cops to their house. When you came out, there was a swarm of kids eyeing you like you were crazy. You asked to see Kodai. She appeared. She was unharmed: no blood, no marks, no recollection of any handsome boy who took a bite out of her wrist. Kamianri’s garage-sale couch had been occupied by no extremely handsome man, and there were no purple-haired people to be seen at the party afterwards.

It wasn’t something you could have imagined unless your drink had been spiked, but you thought you were pretty careful when it came to open containers! And besides, who’d want to spike your drink with hallucinogens. Getting you high could have been a prank or someone thinking they were doing the rest of the party-goers a favor, but to what you could tell, nobody else was seeing shit. So maybe you were crazy. Maybe there was no alluring voice speaking to you in your head, and your psyche had suddenly broken out of the damn blue. In the psychology class you took freshman year, you learned a lot about different mental illnesses that cause hallucinations and paranoia. Maybe you had to get yourself checked out.

Your phone buzzed again.

Kaminari: Kiri is gonna be real bummed if you don’t come :”(

Well, that was on him. You couldn’t really imagine why you would receive such a welcome invitation to another one of their parties after the big fuss you made. After you realized Kodai wasn’t in trouble, you stormed home; you lived close enough, so it was fine to leave your car there. You didn’t speak to anyone about what happened afterwards, so you were sure you’d be snubbed by your friends for at least a little bit. You figured that… if they wanted something else from you, maybe the rule of party fouls would be ignored.

You sighed, knowing that even though Kirishima definitely had a crush on you, he was still your friend and a great guy. You couldn’t think bitterly of him just because he might’ve wanted to kiss you on several occasions when you were just hanging out. You did sleep with him once, back in the day, but you both agreed to just be friends afterward. You were… kinda wild back then and didn’t like the idea of having a boyfriend. Kirishima tried to be understanding, but every now and then, you’d see him look at you with those sad, puppy-dog eyes.

There was a bleep! and you saw that you got a Snapchat notification from Sero. You pursed your lips and opened it to see a video of Kaminari singing your name, pushing Kirishima’s shoulder, and a chorus of several people making gross kissing noises at the two of them. You rolled your eyes and were about to close the video, but something—no, someone—in the background caught your eye.

You replayed the snap. There was singing, gross kissing noises, and him—right at the end of the video. He was only there for the last two seconds of the video, but those mesmerizing indigo eyes leering at the phone camera seemed to grab you by the throat.

You didn’t fucking imagine him. You didn’t fucking imagine him.

Sliding the screen to show the front-facing camera, you grimaced at your face. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and snapped a quick photo with the tag, ‘who is all there rn?’

Kaminari’s reply came instantly. It was another video of people hooting in the kitchen taking shots. Sero was sniffing at a rough-looking pineapple and Kaminari was yelling.

“Who is all here right now?!” Kaminari called and cheers came as a response. Kaminari turned the camera to face his grinning self. Kirishima was in the background checking his hair in the mirror. When he saw that the camera was in him, he flexed his arm, the dork. Then, Kamimari threw his arm around somebody, and pulled him into frame. You actually gasped.

“Why, the whole word is here, babe! Come overrrr!” Kaminari sang at you, but you weren’t paying any attention to him. Purple-haired-couch-kid was side-eyeing your drunken friend, but when he looked into the camera, he appeared to be amused. He wasn’t as dressed up as he was two weeks ago; he just had on a plane black T-shirt with the same ropey necklaces. The camera didn’t do his likeness any justice. The shadows under his eyes seemed to be much darker, and his skin was straight-up pale. Still, his gorgeous lavender eyes had you captivated. He was all you could see.

Purple-haired-guy’s ivory arm wrapped around Kaminari’s shoulder. He grinned, the whites of his teeth gleaming dangerously at the camera, squeezed Kaminari against him, and the video ended. You were too enamored to even thinking of taking a screenshot and you couldn’t replay the snap.

You cursed and covered your eyes with your pillow. You really were planning on sleeping the rest of the night away—maybe put on some cheesy soaps you could snicker at before zonking out. But now, it seemed, you didn’t have any choice but to go to the party. You had to see him.

A shower and a quick trip to the liquor store later and you were showing up to your friends’ rented domain with a six pack in hand. You entered without knocking. They never had the door locked; it was a constant open-invitation to ‘Denki’s Dank Crib’ as Kaminari wished people would call it.

You were immediately slapped in the face with human musk and you were glad to be wearing something more light: a white, chiffon top over your sunflower skirt with yellow, scrappy heels. It wasn’t everyday that you wanted to dress nicely, but as ridiculous as the concept was, if you did see the purple-haired-couch-kid… you wanted to look nice.

“Hey, you! Glad you could make it!” Strong arms pulled you into Kirishima’s hard chest. He smelled like sweat and old spice. He held you for two seconds too long, going so far as to rest his nose on the top of your head, before you pulled away, offering him a friendly smile. “Your conditioner smells nice!”

“Hah… thanks.” You grimaced.

“Oh, I’m sorry! That was really creepy! I’m sorry!” A slow blush bloomed on Kirishima’s cheeks. “I wasn’t trying to be weird. I might’ve had a few drinks already and I just… uh…”

Lending him a saving grace, you lifted the six pack up. “Care for another?”

“D’aww, you didn’t have to grab beer!” Kirishima grabbed the six pack from you. “I do love this stuff though! Thank you!”

“I couldn’t come here empty handed. It’s the least that I can do after what happened last time.” You started walking towards the kitchen, keeping an eye out for the purple guy or Kaminari.

“What happened last time?”

“You know,” you said while Kirishima cracked open a bottle, “when I had a freak out?”

“Freak out?” He offered you the bottle, but you shook your head. “What do you mean?”

You scanned the kitchen and saw only a few kids you didn’t know and Sero messing around with some frothy, yellow liquid in a beat-up blender. Looking to your right, you saw that there was nobody occupying Kaminari’s old loveseat. It wasn’t like you were expecting to see him there with what—Kaminari on his lap?—but it didn’t hurt to check.

“Like when I screamed and locked myself in the bathroom,” you said. “Then I left without saying goodbye.”

Kirishima’s brows crinkled. “I don’t remember you screaming or anything like that. You did leave a little suddenly, and I was bummed for like a minute, but that’s yesterday’s news. You’re here tonight!”

“Kiri, I was standing right next to you when I threw a fit. You don’t remember? You got me out of the bathroom.”

Kirishima shook his head. “Are you sure that was me?”

You were positive. You were definitely leaning on him, talking about how you didn’t need any boys, and Kirishima was warm like he always was when you touched him. You turned to look back at the couch and then you saw that purple guy bite Yui Kodai! Everyone heard you!

“You’re here!”

Sero zoomed towards you with two large cups of something in-hand. He gave you a bright smile and offered you one of the cups. “As soon as I heard you were heading over, I started making these! Piña coladas!”

“Oh…” you took the drink and gazed into the glass. It was yellow and mushy. Thinking back on your original theory—being drugged—you gave him a tight, closed-mouth grin. “What’s in it?”

“Uhh… Pineapple, coconut rum, and ice?” Seeing the unsure look on your face, Sero hastily added, “the pineapple was close to expiring, but I tasted it, and it’s still fine! Promise.”

“Did you even blend it right?” Kirishima asked, peering into your cup. “It looks like it’s breathing.”

“It’s not my fault our blender is janky!” Sero shot back. “I’m not the one who’s always making weird, keto-friendly protein shakes with, like, kale and shit added in every morning like some sort of psychopath.”

“It’s not crazy to be looking after my body. In fact, you could learn something from me!” Kirishima poked Sero in the ribs. “Skinny.”

“I’m not skinny,” Sero argued, flinching away. He lifted up his shirt to reveal his tight, well-kept abdomen. “I’m lean.” Sero smirked when he caught you staring.

“Alright, well, our girl only deserves the best service, and this ain’t it, chief.” Kirishima reaches to take the atrocity out of your hand, but seeing Sero’s dejected face, you pulled away.

“This is fine,” you promised warily. Beside yourself, you took a sip of Sero’s sloshy creation. You got a big chunk of pineapple in your mouth and chewed the rum out. The parts that weren’t chunks were all watery, like you were drinking straight rum. You forced yourself to smile. “It… tastes good at least.”

Sero was ecstatic. “Lovin’ your look, by the way. Yellow heels look good on you.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes and placed a hand on your back. “C’mon, you don’t have to be nice to him. Lemme make you something good in the kitchen.”

“Oh, wait, Sero. I wanted to apologize to you too!”

Sero raised a brow. “Apologize?”

“Yeah...” You turned your head from Sero to Kirishima, hoping for any sign of recognition. “For freaking out. Screaming. Locking myself in the bathroom. All those good things.”

“Oh,” Sero said. “Yeah, well, you’re forgiven.”

“So you remember!” You beamed.

Sero’s hand went to the back of his neck. “To be honest, I don’t remember a lot about the last party. I think Denki broke a table—“

“You helped him break the table,” Kirishima interjected.

“—aaand someone stole my good bong? That’s it. I’m sorry you had a bad time, though. Hopefully you’ll have more fun tonight! Kaminari bought a karaoke set. It’s got all the shitty songs they’re playing on the radio right now.”

“Where is Denki,” you asked, looking around. Damn it, if nobody remembered you screaming, at least you could count on Kaminari possibly getting the name of the kid who he had his arms around in that video he sent you.

“Off somewhere being a dumbass.” Sero waved his hand absently at the crowd of kids in the living room. “You wanna smoke? I just got a new bong and it hits pretty smoothly. Or maybe you wanna try karaoke? Though you would probably wanna get a couple drinks in before that, huh?”

“Ah, maybe later. I just gotta find Denki.”

“Why?” Kirishima asked suspiciously.

“I just gotta ask him something…” you pulled out your phone and dialed his number. It rang three times before getting to his raunchy voicemail. You scoffed.

“He could be up in his room,” Kirishima suggested.

“With a chick?” Asked Sero, amused. You made a face and Sero quickly corrected himself, saying, “I mean… with a nice lady?”

“Who’s to say.” You took a sip of Sero’s special beverage. It was gross, but you were here, and probably getting a little annoyed. You came out, so you might as well try to enjoy yourself.

“I’m sure he’ll come down eventually. If he really is with a girl, he’ll be down soon, and he’ll be hungry,” said Kirishima. “Hey, I’m gonna be ordering a pizza. Any topping preference? I was gonna get a few and wanted to make sure—oh, hey!! Bakugou!”

Your eyes followed Kirishima’s to see some grouchy-looking blonde kid coming in from the front door. You took advantage of both Sero and Kirishima greeting the guy with high-fives and fist-bumps, and made your way into the dining room where kids were playing a drinking game on a broken table.

You chatted a bit with a few kids you hadn’t met before, a girl whose name you forgot from the biology class you took last semester, and some guy who was so drunk you couldn’t comprehend a single mumble that rolled off his tongue. Nobody seemed to know where Kaminari was. Nobody seemed to have seen any boy with purple hair and an angelic face...

You scooted past three boys who were playing some stupid slapping game and into the living room. You sat down on the couch and checked in on your phone messages. It’s been two hours since Kaminari last texted you to come over. You thought about shooting him a text now, but—

‘Do you realize that all of the air in the room goes out when you walk in?’

You choked on air, as embarrassing as that was, and looked up, expecting to see someone who spoke to you. Nobody was paying you any mind for Kaminari's shitty couch, but you knew you heard that titillating voice, and it wasn’t because you were crazy.

‘Such a pretty little thing to be left all alone at a party. Did you lose your fan club?’

“Actually, I chose to sit here by myself,” you said aloud, minding the few people who actually turned to see you talking to yourself. You shrunk back into the couch and pretended to be taking a video of yourself.

‘Well, I’m sure. It’s a comfortable couch, afterall—better when shared.’

Oh, so this voice was a dirty, little thot. You clicked your tongue and texted Kaminari. ‘Hey, I’m here. Where are you?’

Kaminari(11:02): side yard.

Hopping up, you headed for the sliding patio door.

‘Eager to see your babe, babe?’

“Oh, shut up!” You hissed while walking outside and a girl watching a beer pong game frowned at you. You weren’t sure, you thought that you could hear a chuckle in the very far back-end of your head.

Kaminari was in the side yard, thank god. He was leaning against the house, staring absently at the side gate. He was alone, not on his phone or anything to keep him busy. He was just standing there.

“Hey, Kami!”

Kaminari barely turned his head towards you when he said, “hey...”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What are you doing hiding away in the side yard?”

“‘m just chillin’. Waitin’ for my friend…”

“A friend?” You asked. “Kaminari, are you okay?”

“Of course,” Kaminari said, still staring at the side gate. “I’ve never been better… it’s a nice night…”

You stepped out in front of him. Kaminari didn’t meet your gaze; his yellow eyes were hazy and blank. You waved your hand in front of his face and he didn’t even react.

“Kami…”

“It’s a real nice night,” he repeated dreamily. “I‘m waiting for a friend...”

“What friend, Kami? Who are you waiting for?”

“Uhh… Dunno. He just left…”

“What does he look like?” You asked, growing impatient. Kaminari wasn’t the brightest, but he was never really this slow. There was something wrong with him.

“Hmmm… like the moon…”

“Denki.”

“...”

“I saw you near a kid with purple hair and a lot of jewelry in some of the snaps you sent, Kaminari. Do you know where I might be able to find him? He was at the last party too.”

“Yeah... That’s my friend…”

Thank god, thank god someone else knew who the hell you were talking about. “Do you know where he went?”

“To get a snack…” At that, Kaminari cracked a grin.

Fangs and blood flashed in your mind. You clenched your teeth together. If you remembered correctly, perhaps purple-haired-couch-kid’s idea of a snack wasn’t suitable for this party. You grabbed his wrist. “C’mon, let's go back inside. You need some water.”

But when you turned back to your house, you bumped right into what felt like a brick wall. But it wasn’t a brick wall. This barrier was a person whose ivory skin practically glowed an eerie white under the moonlight. This barrier was a person whose indigo eyes scanned you like a marauder finding his treasure. This barrier was a person whose flushed lips tugged up into a smirk when you shrieked.

Your stomach sank when he laughed at you after you leapt back and against Kaminari’s chest. Kaminari placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, as if he was trying to be reassuring, but his touch was too light and vacant to do much to calm you.

Goosebumps crawled up your skin when you took in couch-kid’s sudden appearance. You were mad at yourself for thinking that even though he was frightening in the dark, his sharp jawline was practically begging to be nibbled on.

Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with you?! You couldn’t be thinking about hooking up with strangers that bite while Denki was high and everyone else was forgetting shit! You shook your head and scowled.

“Sorry about that… didn’t mean to scare you.” Your heart did a little jump at hearing his voice for the first time. At least, you were pretty sure this was the first time you’d heard it. It did sound oddly familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.

Couch-kid held out his hand. For a second, you thought he was going to shake your hand, but then you saw that he was holding a wrapped cereal bar. Froot Loops. “Here you go, Denki.”

Kaminari’s arm snaked through the opening between your arm and waist to grab the treat. Your body nearly vibrated from being only just a couple inches away from Couch-kid’s finger tips. His arms were nice—white and long, but strong, with a few prominent veins running up them. Did he drink weird, keto-friendly protein shakes with kale and shit added in them like Kirishima? Why did you care?

“Oh man, thanks Shinsou. I was starting to get dizzy,” Kaminari said, unwrapping the sweet treat. You heard him crunching from behind you, and you don’t know why, but you were suddenly very irritated with his presence. You shouldn’t have been. There was obviously something going on with him and you should’ve been wanting to help him out, but then, you really wanted to be alone with Couch-kid. The thought just made you more agitated.

“Not a problem,” Couch-kid—Shinsou—purred. He didn’t look at Kaminari when he spoke; he was eyeing you.

“Shinsou,” you said, pulling at the hem of your skirt. Did he remember you? Did he think you were dumb for staring at him without saying anything for so long back at the last party?

“That’s me.” Shinsou grinned. This time, he took your hand, rather than offering his, and kissed the back of your wrist. You honestly would have swooned if you didn’t see him do the exact same thing to Yui Kodai just a short while ago. Still, his cool lips making contact with your skin made tiny electric currents shoot up from your arm, to your neck. You shuddered. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The, uh… pleasure’s all mine?” That was what they said in the movies, right? Cheesy soaps, whomst? What a weird thing to say, anyways. Even still, as silly as that old-time greeting was, he could’ve easily said something as ridiculous as, ‘charmed, I’m sure,’ and you still wouldn’t have been able to muster out a bark of laughter like you would with literally anywhere else.

“Denki, didn’t you say you wanted to go sing some karaoke?” Shinsou asked, his eyes still on you.

“I did say that,” Kaminari said, taking another bite out of his cereal bar. “Karaoke sounds nice…” And without any ceremony, he started walking. Sliding past you, he made his way down the side of the house. Just like that?! He was going to leave you with a stranger?

You called, “wait! Kaminari... are you really okay? You were acting a little funky just a minute ago.”

“Mmm, yeah, I’m fine. I just really wanted cereal.” Kaminari wiggled the now empty bar wrapper in the air. “But Shinsou took very good care of me…” That faraway look returned to his eyes when he said, “I’ll catch you later, babe.” With that, he was gone, leaving you alone with a guy who simultaneously made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your heart melt with a quirk of his brow.

Shinsou’s eyes scanned over you, up from where your hand was bunched up in your skirt, to your torso, your collar bones, your lips, then back down to your neck. Unease settled over you when his eyes finally met yours and you had to quickly look away. You wished that you were anywhere else in the world. You also wished you could think of something, anything, to say to him, but asking about Kodai seemed to be so wrong to you, at the moment, and the last time either of you had interacted, you were about to hop into his lap!

Finally, you mustered, “do you know if he smoked anything? He really wasn’t acting like his usual self. I’m worried something might be wrong…”

“Not to my knowledge. He might’ve had a couple drinks though,” Shinsou said. There was another long pause, and you fought your brain to come up up a normal conversational topic, but Shinsou beat you to to the punch. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“What? No!” You still couldn’t look him in the eye as you answered. You hoped that it was dark enough to be able to hide your flushing face. “He’s really just a friend.”

“He calls you ‘babe’, though.”

“Yeah, well, if you put a skirt on, I’m sure he’d call you babe too.” You shrugged. “He’s just a flirt.”

“You weren’t wearing a skirt at that last party,” Shinsou mused, which gave you a little rush. He remembered you. “And he still called you babe.”

You pressed your lips together to keep from smiling, but your humor rang out in your voice when you asked, “are you interested in him or something? Because I can go get him back for you, if you want. I’m pretty sure he dated a guy our sophomore year.”

Shinsou clicked his tongue, amused. “It’s not him I’m interested in. Not really my type.”

“Right, right,” you laughed, gaining more confidence. “Well, I haven’t seen Kodai here tonight, but I think I have her number saved. Would you like me to give her a ring? It’s the least I can do for you taking care of my poor, dumb not-boyfriend while I was away.”

You reached inside your purse to grab your phone. You really would have called her, but before you could even touch your phone, Shinsou’s fingers were wrapped around your wrist. You almost yelped. Shinsou’s fingers were much cooler than his lips were and it surprised you.

“I knew you were jealous,” he remarked darkly. Immediately, you yanked your arm free, but that only prompted him to grab your wrist from a newer angle. You narrowed in on him, ready to bite—he was someone you didn’t know grabbing you, so obviously you had every right to—but as soon as you gazed into his eyes, you were lost.

His pupils were abyssal; so dark that they appeared white. Looking at him, your body felt cool—numb almost. Beyond any control, your body relaxed which made you lose your tight grip of Sero’s shitty piña colada. You didn’t even care about the cold, sloshy mess splattering over your heels.

Shinsou backed you into the wall, his stare intense, his lips parted and amused. He planted his free hand on your arm and took his time running it up to your shoulder, your neck. The tips of his fingers lightly danced across your jugular, the pad of his thumb slowly running up and down the pulsing vein. He scrutinized you dangerously, daring you to move, to run, to scream for help. Not knowing whether you were scared or aroused, you let him touch you, though ‘let’ didn’t seem like the appropriate word. It was like you had no other choice. He wanted to study you, so he would, and you would not object. So naturally, when Shinsou slid his hand to the nape of your neck, you turned to grant him access to what you knew what he really wanted.

He first pressed his nose up against your skin and inhaled deeply. You shivered as he groaned, “I’ve been waiting for you for too damn long. My sanguine.”

When Shinsou’s lips pressed against your flesh, you melted. Every nerve-ending in your body set aflame; you were no closer to fleeing the scene than you were indulging in the sweet sensation that his kiss had to offer. His cool tongue traveled up your neck, sending waves of jubilant shivers down your spine. His fingers hooked around your shoulder as he deepened the kiss. You felt a tingling sensation warming up between your legs that was only a tiny bit eased when he lodged his knee between you. His hand slid down your back where he pulled you on to him more comfortably; held up by his thigh, his arm, and nothing more.

“Nhhh-“ you tried to object, like you should, like you knew you wanted to, but a carnal urge pulled at the strings of your willpower. Whether he kissed you, or killed you, you wouldn’t be able to deny him his satisfaction. You would give him, Shinsou, a stranger, anything he wanted at any given moment.

But when you heard your name called from inside, the spell was broken.

You tensed. Shinsou��s lips froze against your skin. You felt his hands tighten around you protectively, possessively, and you knew you were in deep shit.

“Kiri,” you whispered despite wanting nothing more than to say another man’s name. Kirishima was looking for you and yet, here you were, in his side yard, with another boy. Perhaps you hadn’t changed as much as you originally thought you had.

“Don’t-!” Shinsou hissed when you tried to pull away. There was urgency in his voice, something unexpected from him. His eyes were desperate and hungry. Terrifying. It felt good knowing that he wanted to keep you, and that thought was more frightening than what you thought was his original intentions. Fingers slid their way to your waist, and Shinsou bowed his head, dipping in to kiss your lips, but before he could, your hand fell on his face.

It wasn’t a slap, no. You literally put your entire ass palm on his face to save yourself from a kiss you actually wanted.

“O-oh god!” You stuttered out. Beyond any responsible control, you shoved his head back. “I’m sorry!”

Finally freed, you bolted a good five feet away from him, back towards the house. Your assaulter gazed at you with surprise, sleepy eyes rounded in a sort of sincere, pitiful way, but you couldn’t let his dejection get to you. You swallowed harshly as you backed away from him and the wall, going against every fiber in your body telling you to stay put, to stay at his side, to let him satiate any and all needs that he had.

The thing is, you would have. Despite not being able to bark out the half-dozen questions you had for him (why do you bite people? Why can’t anybody remember you? Why do I think I can hear your voice in my head? Why the sudden smooches? What the fuck?) you would have stayed with him there, had you not heard your name called a second time.

“Leaving so soon?” Shinsou asked, gaining some composure, though as lax as he tried to make himself seem, there was an imperative note in his tone. “Don’t want to let your fan club down, I guess.” His voice was a shrug. “And here I thought you were going around asking about me.”

That was so excruciatingly embarrassing; being caught showing interest. Did he know how many people you spoke to? You wished you could wither up and blow away right then and there.

You glanced through the glass door to see Kirishima holding his phone up to your ear. A second later, your phone started buzzing. You ignored it.

“I guess I just wanted to know who you were, is all,” you said, a perfectly normal response. That was you: calm, cool, and collected—totally not willing to makeout with extremely hot strangers out of nowhere. “I haven’t seen you around before that last party…” which would be a perfectly fine segue into asking him why he bit Yui Kodai, if only you could will your body to ask!

“So you’re satisfied?”

“Uh-huh!” Not at all. Not at all. But that didn’t stop you from turning back towards the house.

‘Liar.’

Your body went cold. The voice rang too clearly to have been said aloud, but it was definitely his. In. Your. Head.

“What did you say?” You asked, turning back, trying to keep your tone steady. You didn’t know why, but you thought it would be bad if he heard your voice crack or squeak.

“I asked if you were satisfied. We barely got to converse and yet, you’re skittering away after making such a fuss about finding me. Why is that?”

“I’m not skittering away and—hey!” You put your hands on your hips. “You called me a liar just now, didn’t you?”

Shinsou placed his hands in his hips, mocking you. “I said no such thing!”

“Well, no, maybe you didn’t say it with your mouth…”

“What else would I have said it with? My hips?” He smirked. “Are you sure it wasn’t your own conscience calling you out?”

You scoffed. You couldn’t believe he was teasing you!” And what about your conscience?! Do you just go around attacking people’s necks out of nowhere like that as a hobby?!”

“Interesting choice of words,” he chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t say attacking people is a hobby, but more of a necessity. And I don’t usually go for the neck, either. I save that intimacy for victims who are a little more willing…”

‘Really, I wouldn’t want a single drop of you to run down your arms, anyways.’

“Willing?!” You started, incredulous. You pointed a shaking finger at him and continued with, “you really have a thing or two to learn about cons-!”

“Hey!” Kirishima was sliding the door to patio open. “I was looking for you! The pizza’s almost gone, but I saved you a couple slices.” He looked at you and registered the expression on your face. His eyes narrowed as he approached you. “Who are you talking to?”

But when Kirishima looked down the side yard, there was nobody there—just the slushy remains of your piña colada. He bent down to pick the cup up to see you shaken, wordless. “What happened?”

You could only shake your head. Because you didn’t know what happened—you didn’t know anything! Shinsou was there and now he wasn’t, and the more you tried to say anything on the matter, the more the words got stuck at the back of your throat.

“Hey,” Kirishima said, full of concern. He grabbed both of your trembling hands and wound his fingers through yours. That was intimate. Something sweet. Something that was supposed to be reassuring. What in the hell was supposed to be intimate about a guy you barely met narrowing in on your neck like that.

You sighed and allowed your head to fall against Kirishima’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close while that angry blonde kid, Bakugou, appeared at the doorway, munching on a slice of pizza (probably the last one.) He took one look at you, rolled his eyes, and walked away. Kirishima asked you what happened once more. You said, “I’d just really like to get home.”

“Let me walk with you,” Kirishima whispered. That would be pulling him away from his own party, but he didn’t seem to care about that. The world really needed more Kirishimas.

“Okay.”

Making your way through the house, you saw Kaminari in the living room slurring the lyrics to a lame song, Sero cheering him on while simultaneously recording every word, and Bakugou glaring out the front window. Kirishima quickly told Sero where the two of you were headed which made Sero form a tight line with his mouth. After seeing the stricken expression on your face, Sero seemed to ease up a bit.

Kirishima held your hand while he walked with you. He tried to make light conversation, attempting to get your mind off of whatever happened when you were alone in his side yard, but you couldn’t entertain him with idle chit chat. The entire walk home, you thought you felt somebody’s watchful gaze on you.

TAGS FOR EVERYTHING (CLOSED): @ayeputita @yandere-inamorata @dee-madwriter @unboundbnha @rizamendoza808, @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten @rubycubix@smbody-stole-mycar-radio @zellllyyyy@sarcastictextstuck@kpanime @captain-sin-allmight-queen @psionicsnow@wickedlewicked @ghost-of-todoroki @kattariapenn@im-an-adult-sometimes @bnhya @local-senpai@eggpienutbuttercroissant@usernamekate94 @reyvenclaww @hi-ho-and-hello

#hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #vampire!hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #vampire bnha #vampire au #bnha au #vampire x reader #opia

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ellana-ravenwood · 5 years

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Salt, Tequila, Lemon - Jason Todd x Reader

Please read this intro, thank you very much :

So. I posted this yesterday, but after a bug on the Tumblr app on my phone it got deleted. I’m super bummed out because it had over 200 notes and quite a few feedbacks that I never got to read because it was accidentally deleted...If the people that took the time to comment things on the story could take a bit more time to write a little comment again and give me their feedbacks, and also if the people that liked and reblog could do it once more...i’d appreciate the hell out of you <3. So reposting it (thanks god I always have back ups of all my stories now). Written in twenty minutes during my break at work. Bam. Hope you’ll like it :

Also, since Tumblr’s new guidelines and enforcement of it, I DON’T really appear in searches anymore, so the only way for this story to be seen by others than those who follow me is to reblog it. So if you wanna, you can show your support for my writing by doing just that. Thanks very much. You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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Ok. So. Grandma’s remedy against heartbreak ? Oh, right.

Salt. Tequila. Lemon.

Got it. Licking the back of your hand to make the salt stick to it, you pour yourself a massive shot of “To-Kill-Ya” in your coffee mug, not even caring about the fact that there is still some remnant of your cappuccino from last night in it.

You focus on the sound the liquid makes as it fills your cup. Makes you think about something else. Good. Yup. This was totally gonna help right now.

“Cheers”, you exclaim to yourself, your empty apartment echoing your voice.

Salt.

Wincing. Stingy. Salt on its own is gross.

Tequila.

More wincing. Oh my god, it burns. The coffee that was still at the bottom of the cup is an oddly nice touch.

Lemon.

The last of the Wincing.

You spit the piece of lemon you just bit into in the trash and…miss. The yellow fruit falls with a little flat sound on the floor, and you honestly can’t bother to pick it up. Your apartment is a mess anyway, so you just stare at it angrily and pour yourself another drink.

Salt. Tequila. Lemon.

You gulp the last of the citrus and shiver. Miss the trash again.

Damn. This was good.

Well, actually, it was disgusting.

You didn’t like strong alcohol and what the Hell ?! Why did you leave a bit of coffee in your cup ? Now that the aftertaste was kicking in, it was actually really gross. If the tequila itself didn’t make you wanna throw up, the stale coffee taste nearly did. Oh, and the salt and lemon combination was as awful as ever.

You really didn’t like salt, tequila, or lemon.

But it was still good.

Because thanks to all this immediate awfulness, you could slowly feel yourself drift into “haze land”, and forget about your worries.

Forget that your boyfriend of two years just cheated on you with some random woman you worked with. Woman that, by the way, he met at the Christmas “end of the year” party from you work you invited him to…You gave him free champagne and mise-en-bouche and all your love, and he broke your heart.

It wasn’t your thing, to drink your sorrow away. And it wasn’t your thing either to wallow because of a man…But you genuinely thought he was “the one” (oh what a mistake you would soon realize that was).

He was always so nice, treating you like a princess. He complimented you daily, and never forgot an important date. He was affectionate, not to an annoying point. He was the perfectamount of affectionate. He was a gentleman and seemed to love you and yet, he betrayed you.

If a man like him, that was nothing short but sweet and passionate with you, cheated on you, then did that mean you couldn’t trust anyone ?

Because in your eyes right now, he was perfect. Albeit said eyes were slightly clouded by a a few tequila shots.

You were downing a fourth drink starting to slowly sob when…

There’s very few things that can get you out of a drunk state in seconds.

An extremely cold shower could do the trick, for instance. Brings you back to your senses a bit you know ? You wouldn’t magically be sober, but you’d get a clearer mind. Or someone giving you shocking news ! Or like, an event so incredible that your body just forgets how drunk it is for a minute.

And this event, for you, came at the perfect time.

Right when you were entering your “sad drunk” phase, which was between the “lol alcohol does NOTHING to me” phase where you downed most of your drinks, and the “dancing on the bar’s counter” phase (a few more drinks and you would have a one woman dance party in your living room, acting as if you were on a bar’s counter and that your name was suddenly “Britney”).

Right when you were about to wallow times a thousand, and cry, and yell “whyyyyyyy ?!” to the sky, arms in the air (drama queen).

Years later, looking back on that particular event, you’ll start to realize that Destiny HAS to exist. Because come on, it was just too perfect a timing to be a simple coincidence.

You were about to swallow up your fifth drink, launching yourself head first into the “sad phase” when an ear shattering noise rang all around your apartment.

Broken glass.

It was the sound of broken glass. Heightened to the max by your drunkness. You turned on your stool, and…there he was.

It was a guy. That you were sure of because he had no boobs and too much pecs. And that guy…well that guy just flew right through your window, destroying it. How rude.

There was glass everywhere.

How much did a window cost ? Probably a fortune.

You wondered briefly if you could just use aluminium foil and tape the shit up. There was nothing of value to steal in your apartment anyway, and if aluminium foil could keep meals warm, it definitely worked with a house too right ?

You sobered up quite a bit, but you were also very drunk when this event happened, so your mind was still in that cloudy weird phase where your priorities were…interesting.

You worried more about the broken window at first, than about that guy who just launched through it.

A guy.

Not just any guy.

You saw that guy before.

He was one of those night vigilante your crazy hometown was filled with…RED HOOD !!

“Thick thighs”, is the first thing you thought right after you recognized him (priorities).

The second thing you thought was that you needed another drink, and so you downed what was your fifth one, but with that crazy thing happening ended up being on the same level as if it was a second one. You were tipsy, but not “drunk” anymore.

The third thing that came to your mind was…Is he still alive ?

No cause, he was like, just laying there, on your living room’s floor, not moving.

“…Outch.”

Oh. He spoke.

So he ain’t dead. Good, means you can have another drink then, you don’t need a clear mind to call an ambulance or something.

Oddly enough, in your half-drunk half-sober state, this sounded completely reasonable. Nevermind if Red Hood had some internal bleeding or something. He talked. He was probably fine.

A minute passed, and you just sat there, sipping up your tequila in between taking a pinch of salt and biting into a piece of lemon.

Salt, tequila, lemon. Great remedy against heartbreaks.

Wait, were you heartbroken ? Really ? You couldn’t really recall that fact now. But, yeah…it was the reason why you were drinking right ? Because right now, all you could think about was the fact that this Red hood guy had abs for days…

This unforeseen event sobered you up quite a bit, but the two shots you just took kinda brought you back to the same state than you were before.

Well. Not quite. You were drunk as hell again, but seemed to have avoided the “sad phase”. Instead, Red Hood bursting quite literally through your window took you to another road.

The : “Cool, I got a drinking buddy phase”. Well, taking for granted he didn’t have any internal bleeding and wouldn’t die while biting into a lemon wedge.

“Tough day ?”

You ask him, as he slowly sits up and shakes his head, trying to regain his senses. He looks towards you and seem surprised (or at least you think he is, because he wears a mask so…kinda hard to tell).

************

Jason definitely thought he was alone in this place, because no sane person would just sit there, not saying anything, as someone simply jumped through their window. Nope, most people would just freak out. Scream.

He knows, because it’s not the first time he falls through a window during a night on duty. And every single time it happened, people freaked out. Screamed. Threw stuffs at him, or hid away begging for their life to be spared.

And yet here you were, half a bottle of tequila in front of you, surrounded by lemon wedges you bit into, and table salt all over your hand, just staring at him curiously. And did you just say : “tough day” ?

Well, Jason guessed the empty half of the bottle was why you were so chilled about it all. He sat up, and slowly got back to his feet.

Usually, going through a window meant the end of the night for him. He’d go back to one of his secret stash, patch himself up and get some rest. Most of the time, he fell through windows because someone pushed him or threw him there…Though today, he just embarrassingly missed a step and fell by himself.

Of course, no one would ever now he tripped while jumping from one building to another (you lived on the last floor) and went careening into your home (and life). Nope, the official story would be that he fought a fierce enemy and was thrown into that window. Finding fake villains name was easy, given how truly ridiculous some could be.

Tim and Damian were still after the “Illusive Blue Man” that he totally made up that one time he walked into a poll and had a huge black eye that he couldn’t quite explain…Oh man, he had to stop telling such elaborate lies and just say “I fought with a few guys last night” without more explanation.

But he couldn’t help it. And those kids believed everything he said, it was too tempting…But for now, this wasn’t the issue. Nope.

He did a quick check of his body and knew he wasn’t really hurt (thanks “dad” for the amazing body armor ugh ?), so he was planning on leaving that poor girl’s house and send a mystery check in the mail to pay for the damage (money stolen from a certain Bruce Wayne of course, as if he would pay himself).

Yup. He was just gonna stand up, and go on his way and…somehow, he found himself sitting on the stool opposite side of this mysterious girl, and now she was peppering salt on his hand ?

“Salt”, she says, and she has a cute drunk voice. Jason almost forgets he just went through a window a few minutes ago.

“Tequila”, she continues, downing her drink and pointing at the one she poured him. He doesn’t even care the she poured it in a cereal bowl that she didn’t even seem to have clean…He drunk worst things in worst recipient. He turns away to take off his mask and so that she can’t see his face, and “bottom’s up”.

“Lemon !” she finishes, biting into the sour fruit and spitting it in the direction of the trashcan but missing completely. The lemon wedge goes to lost itself amongst his fallen brothers…

Jason bites into his own lemons, and spits it. Right into the garbage.

There’s a slight pause, where she just stares at the trashcan, and then at Jason, back to the trashcan, and then turns to him again and simply says :

“Wow.”

************

So. This was surreal.

Here you were. In your home. Taking tequila shots. With…Red Hood.

One of Gotham’s night vigilante. The most violent one. But the dude seemed chilled. He was holding his liquor really well.

And now you were talking about your broken heart, telling him the story as if he’d been your friend for years. And he was listening. Intently. And reacting to what you were saying. It had been a LONG time, since you had this kind of talk with anyone, and despite the fact you were drunk, you still noticed how nice it felt to have someone to talk to. Someone that genuinely listened.

“And then he slept with her !” you say angrily.

“Nooooooo !?!”

“Yes, he did ! He slept with…with…what was her name…”

“Nicole. From accounting.”

“Right, Nicole from accounting ! That bitch ! She always just…counts and shit ! And he slept with her ! Nicole from accounting ! Whom he met thanks to me, by the way ! At a partyyyy !! At my wooooork !!”

“What an ass.”

“Right ?! Oh but he had such a good ass though…Quite firm. But whenever he wore jeans, it was super flat.”

“So, not such a good ass in the end then ?”

“I guess not. You have a good ass. Popping right out in this outfit of yours.”

Red Hood chuckles, and the sound of his laughter makes you forget that you just said something incredibly embarrassing. His voice is…nice. Deep. Manly. You like it. You wanna make him chuckle some more, so you say, hoping :

“And it looks very firm. Not just quite firm.”

It works. He snorts and it’s very cute. Oh wow. He can be sexy and cute. Full package. You smile a bit dreamily.

For a second, he’s lost in that smile of yours, and there’s a silence installing itself in the room. A comfortable one. That you break :

“Ok. So now, he’s not that perfect anymore ! He got no ass ! Penalty points ! I never notice how un-assed he was before…”

Jason smiles and damn. He’s hot.

Somewhere along the way, he stopped turning his face away from you whenever he took a shot, and just ended up taking his helmet off. He was probably hoping that you’d black out or something, so you wouldn’t remember his face (or he just didn’t care).

In any case, you were pretty sure you never saw him before. His face kinda reminded you of an old memory. Of someone you saw somewhere long ago, when you were a kid…Which wasn’t really a big help right ?

Right. You had no idea who he was. And in your drunken state, probably couldn’t piece anything together anyway. So even if you did know who he could be, you wouldn’t know in the end anyway…Makes perfect sense right ?

What you knew was : he’s hot.

This white streak in his hair did something to you that you couldn’t explain. And that jawline ? You would love to get cut on that bitch. It could actually cut a bitch, you were sure of it. Those blue eyes ? You’ve never seen someone with such blue eyes. And did you mention to yourself how muscular he was ? Because man you only saw guys like this in magazines !

But beyond his handsome features, he seemed like a nice guy. Like he was listening to you, a total stranger. And this realization suddenly raised your guard up.

You also thought that your ex-cheating-boyfriend was a nice guy. And come to think of it, who the hell just barge in someone’s home like that, and actually stay to drink tequila shots ?! Wait but…in your guts…it’s not like with your ex.

You don’t think he’s a nice guy. You know he is.

************

There’s a visible shift in your mood, after this realization. So far, you talked to him about your broken heart freely, and he listened.

Oddly enough, no words that came out of your (perfect) mouth bored him. Jason wasn’t sure wether it was the alcohol or not, but you captivated him.

But in a split second, and without him knowing why, your features changed. You were now frowning. Like an unhappy little kid. It was kinda cute, but he didn’t like it because…why were you frowning ?

He tries to lighten up the mood and says :

“Well here you go. See, you didn’t loose the perfect guy, his ass was flat in jeans. Can’t work with that, can you ? I bet we can find other flaws. Make you realize he actually was a looser.”

Your guard is up, but you can’t help but smile a bit, plus you were frowning just now because you realized you just knew you could trust that total stranger, and it was so weird….

Besides, no harm in indulging this, because you’re pretty sure it’ll make you feel better to try and see the bad side of your ex-boyfriend, not just his good ones. No one was perfect. And so, still a bit careful, you say :

“Well…He never got any of my Tv shows or movie references.”

“Well, here’s a point to take off of his “perfectness”. Doesn’t get pop culture references. Deal breaker.”

“Yeah…Yeah you’re right. It is. He also used to hate when I made jokes. I like puns ya know ? Terrible ones. Well, he was always embarrassed whenever I made them in public.”

“Ashamed of his girlfriend, doesn’t sound very gentlemanly, right ?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t. Maybe he wasn’t such a perfect gentleman…He also used to not want to go out with me if I didn’t wear any make-up and was dressed just casually.”

“What you mean, he never just went out with you ?”

“We only went out on dates. I had to dress up. I could be casual home though…”

“Well goodie, the man let you be yourself when you were home. Big deal. To be honest, sounds like a douchey move.”

“That was kinda douchey…I never cared what he looked like.”

And it’s true. For you, physical appearance wasn’t everything. And sure you thought your ex was hot and all, but only because you liked his personality too. You liked his jokes, you were never ashamed of anything he said.

And right now, sure that stranger that bursted through your window was hot, but the reason you felt like you could tell him things was because he just made you comfortable by his mere aura. Because he gave you such a good vibe.

You never were fully about appearances. It was always just a bonus for you…So it never occurred to you why your ex would only hang out in public with you if you were pampered. Like he used to hate when you just wore hoodies and no make-up, even if you didn’t need make-up to be beautiful.

Comes to think of it, he was very much about appearances…Uh. Interesting. You never realized that before.

You turn to Red Hood, and the look on your face says it all. You’re slowly realizing maybe you didn’t just lost “the one”. The vigilante says :

“Ok, so : no ass, no humor apparently, doesn’t get pop culture references, and was kind of a jerk when it came to going out with you…”

“He did tell me often that I was beautiful though. Including when I just woke up from a night out, and was awful looking.”

“Yeah, but he never went out with you looking like that. He shouldn’t feel ashamed of hanging out with you looking like that. Just like he shouldn’t feel embarrassed when you joke. He can be exasperated, like if you really make bad puns, sure. And he can think it’s unfunny…But embarrassed ? No.”

“I guess…I never thought about it.”

“Well let me tell you, as someone who does not know neither you nor him personally, he sounds like a bit of a jerk. Let’s not forget he cheated as well. Like, that’s not something good people do. Especially not with…Nicole from accounting.”

“Nicole from accounting…Yeah. They’re together now though.”

“So ? He should’ve broken up with you if he realized he liked her. That’s the right thing to do. Trust me on that, I put villains behind bars for a living, I know what’s right or wrong.”

“I heard you kill criminals.”

“Used to. I used to kill criminals, I had issues. I’ll tell you one day if you wanna. It’s a real tear jerker story. With clowns and crowbars. And I’m telling you that because I’m drunk, right now. Also, if we want to be specific, I don’t actually make a living out of putting villains behind bars. Like, I don’t get paid or anything…”

Jason finds himself ranting about anything that comes to his mind, and though he hears himself claim it’s because of the alcohol he’s saying all this, he realizes maybe there’s something else making him want to talk.

You. A total stranger he walked upon. Or rather, went-through-the-window upon. Who didn’t freak out when he went through said window. And instead, invited him over to have tequila shots.

Because, according to your grandmother, the best remedy to…basically any problems in life, was “salt, tequila, lemon”.

“She was a wise woman.”

He says, and you turn to him, clearly not understanding what he was talking about.

“Who ?”

“Your grandma. For saying that salt, tequila and lemon was a great remedy against heartbreaks and all.”

“Oh. Yeah. I wouldn’t know, I never met her. She died before I was born.”

“Well what she passed on to your parents is great.”

“What ?”

“Well, that “salt, tequila and lemon” thing, I assume she said that to your mom or dad, and then they said that to you, and then it became your grandma’s advice. Right ?”

“…Nah. It’s an excuse I made up. Whenever I need to justify something, I just say “like my grandma said, ain’t no shame in eating an entire tub of ice cream if you want to”, and then people are just like “oh yeah, cool”, because when you say the word “grandma”, then it gives a perspective to your words ya know ?”

Jason had no idea what you were on about, but he loved it. You seemed to be very smart. And witty. And funny. The hell did that guy cheated on you for ? And why was he ashamed of going out in public with you when you weren’t dressed up ?!

You currently wore “Hello Kitty” pyjamas, had absolutely no make up on, and your hair was a mess, and he thought you looked gorgeous.

“Why are you so nice ?”

Your question takes him by surprise, and for a few seconds he doesn’t register it and just says : “ugh ?”

“To me. Why are you so nice to me ? Is it the alcohol ? Does it make you nice ? Or are you just nice to every stranger ? Every girl you destroy the windows of ? Or are you like my ex ? You seem nice, but then you go off and cheat on your girl simply because you like another girl and you’re too cowardly to break up with your current girl ?”

Jason hiccups slightly, and says :

“No, I’m not nice to any girl I met. I’m actually usually kind of a jerk, too “brutally honest”. But you…I don’t know. You give me good feelings. Oh and here’s to add on his flaws list. “Coward”. Can’t even break up with a girl, has to wait to get caught red-handed and break her heart. Cooooward. Bad flaw. Kind of guy who runs in the face of danger, instead of standing by you.”

It’s probably the fact that he said “you give me good feelings” that spurs this in you. That gives you a new clearer perspective on things.

“My heart wasn’t broken.”

It’s a shock, to you. This realization. This sudden feeling jumping in your face. You…are not heartbroken. You’re mad. You’re frustrated. You feel betrayed. You feel a crazy burning anger towards your ex for toying around with you like that. For not having the balls to just break up, after spending two years together.

He was suppose to know you. To be your friend. Things could have turned out better. He could have just come up to you, say the truth, and…You were pretty sure you’d still be friend. Because he really was a great guy.

He really was all the good thing you though about him. He made a mistake, an unforgivable one in your book. But he was a great guy.

He was just…not your great guy. Not anymore at least.

And you realized, there, quite drunk, that…It was ok.

Your heart wasn’t broken.

Your pride was. Your trust was. But your heart ? …Maybe you weren’t completely in love with him. You were best friends, yes, but love ? Maybe it wasn’t love…

Your heart wasn’t broken.

“My heart isn’t broken.”

You tell Red hood, looking at him right in his wonderful ocean blue eyes. And he looks right back at you, and just nods. Just like that. And then he pours you one last tequila shot.

Because like your grandma would say : “When you make great discovery about yourself…Salt, tequila, lemon”.

************

It took you only a few hours with him to realize that you weren’t in love with your ex, and that was kinda scary. Because this realization didn’t come from nowhere.

Nope.

But when he said that your ex broke your heart, you felt obligated to tell him that no. No your heart wasn’t broken. You were sad and angry, yes, but not heartbroken. For you, in that moment, it was important for this total stranger to know you weren’t actually in love.

Hell, you didn’t even know yourself you weren’t that in love before you talked to him. It just came as a sudden, yet utterly true revelation.

Because, and this wasn’t the alcohol speaking…You felt incredibly attracted to that guy. To Red Hood. Not just because of the white streak in his hair, and the eyes, and smile, and voice, and abs, and thick thighs. That too, sure, but not only…Nope.

Nope. Not because of this.

But because he had a tough day (he said so himself, explaining to you how he went through the window…he was fighting a super-villain when he got flung through your window, tough tough time ahem), and yet he sat with a crazy lady that peppered salt on his hand and practically forced him to take a tequila shot…

Because you could see in his eyes, and felt in your guts that he didn’t have an easy life…and yet he took a break from whatever he was doing to just sit with you and listen to you. He didn’t even make sense, that you trusted those feelings so fiercely. And yet, you did. Because he listened to you.

He saw you were struggling and he stayed. And though you felt you couldn’t trust anyone at that time…You oddly felt like he was ok.

Like he wouldn’t be the kind of guy to cheat, or run in the face of danger, leaving you all alone to fight off demons.

In a few short hours, you fell for this guy more than you ever fell for your ex.

What did that say about you uh ? …That was pretty pathetic…

************

Jason didn’t think that you were pathetic at all.

On the contrary. If he went to seat with you, and drink with you, is because he was instantly mesmerized by you.

And though he didn’t know at first why, now he was sure of it.

It’s because you didn’t freak out. And something told him it wasn’t only because you were a bit drunk (he fell in drunk people’s home before…none reacted like you).

Nope. It was because you were special. He just knew it. Special in every way. Funny. Beautiful. Genuinely listening to him when he was speaking.

He peppered his own problems within your story, as you told him. And you listened. Hell, even referenced a few things he said early on, way later, while you were crazy drunk. You listened.

You gave a total stranger that seemed to have a tough day some salt. And tequila. And lemons.

And then you cared. You asked him a thousand times if he was ok, and he basically had to take off his armor to prove it so (to your eyes’ greatest pleasure…mm mm mm those muscles).

Captivated. He was captivated by you. It was strange, and though he knew it was because you were special, he still was unclear as to why his feelings were that strong.

For someone he just met. And barely knew. And only knew while drunk.

You were just…Special.

************

It was surreal. The all thing.

What started as a night where you planned on wallowing your pain and drinking…ended up changing your life.

And no one could convince you that it wasn’t Fate. Because what were the odds that Red Hood would fall through YOUR window after tripping (yeah you didn’t buy that “fighting super-villains thing” at all) ?

What were the odds of his timing being so perfect, arriving just before you started to cry ? Because there was no doubt in your mind that if he had come a few seconds later, he wouldn’t have stayed.

He would have found a crying mess, and maybe he would have tried to confort you but…You wouldn’t have answered. In your “sad phase”, you only cry and whine. He would have eventually left. And the wonderful talk you’d just have, would never have happened.

But instead. He came right before your lips touch that fatal shot of tequila that would have brought you into the “sad phase”. And took your drunkness down a notch. Rerouted your evening.

You weren’t wallowing anymore, you were ranting.

Sharing your anger and frustration.

And he helped you realize that your ex wasn’t that perfect…That maybe it was just not meant to be…After all, he cheated on you.

Uh. What a shame. You didn’t even know his name…”Red Hood”…

You wished you knew his name.

************

The morning lights were rising, and the bottle of tequila was long gone.

There were still salt and lemons though. For some reason, you decided to buy the entire grocery store’s stock of lemons.

Red Hood stood up, and said he had to go.

He was nice about it. Said it was a pleasure to have spend the night with you. You both laughed about the innuendos that ensued.

You were exactly on the same page. And he understood all your joke referencing to pop culture…

But it was time for him to go. And he apparently had no intention of telling you his real name. He didn’t hint either at ever coming back to see you again.

And there was that. Just a nice night, spend talking to a genuine friend that you’ll never see again.

A genuine friend that you didn’t even know a few hours before.

Maybe it was the alcohol speaking. Maybe not.

And even if you ended up never seeing him again, this evening truly changed your life…At least, it saved you from a heartbreak. Made you realize it wasn’t that.

Though, now, as he climbs out of the window again (he couldn’t possibly use the front door), you feel like the actual heartbreak is starting.

Grandma’s remedy against heartbreak ? Right.

Salt, tequila, lemon…

But the tequila is all gone.

“I’ll send someone to fix that window…Sorry again about that. …Bye.” are his last words, and then he’s out.

And the tequila is all gone.

************

…

Days pass by in a blur.

Salt. Tequila. Lemon.

Ugh. But you don’t want to this time. You don’t want to get drunk to forget.

You don’t want to forget him. And you know it’s ridiculous to get that worked up over a guy you met one night and that will never come back. That you didn’t even know the name of.

This entire night was weird anyway.

Getting drunk with a dangerous night vigilante. Pouring your heart out to him, and him doing the same. The hell were you even thinking ?

Salt. Tequila. Lemon.

That would be a good idea to do this right now, because man…your heart hurt. More than when you discovered your ex sleeping with Nicole. From accounting. But you can’t resolve yourself to drink. To forget. Nope. Instead you…

*Knock knock knock*.

Uh ? You take a quick look at your clock in the kitchen.10 pm. Who the hell is coming at 10 pm ?! It can only be bad news. Especially in Gotham…You peep into the eyehole and…

WHAT ?!

You open your door quickly, and…

“Told you I’d send someone to fix your window.”

It’s him. It’s Red hood. But in…civilian clothes.

His ass doesn’t look flat in jeans.

He’s holding a window wrapped in cardboard, and there’s a toolbox at his feet.

“Yeah, you did…come in.”

************

Jason Todd.

That’s his name. And connections are fast to be made in your brain. Jason Todd. Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. That supposedly died…ten years ago.

And is Red Hood now. Oh. It makes sense. Even his little “killing criminals” thing while Batman never killed. You easily put two and two together.

Red Hood. Jason Todd. Bruce Wayne.

Wow. Can’t believe you never guessed that before. Of course Bruce Wayne is Batman. He’s got the motive, the means, the excuses…It’s so obvious. And yet, you never realized. And no one else in Gotham ever realized.

Jason Todd.

Now you know his name.

And he’s fixing your window. Nobody ever fixed windows for you before (even those who broke it).

Um. To add to the “perfect man” list : “Handy”.

Jason Todd.

He quickly works the window up, and then he turns to you. While he was working you talked, as if you knew each other for years. Joking around. Like old friends. Like old extremely good and close friends.

It fits. It clicks. It’s natural. You and him, him and you.

Barely knowing each others, and yet knowing each others the best.

Jason. Todd.

He turns to you now, and with a smirk, he says :

“Ya know, my grandma always say that when something good happens to you, you need to celebrate. And I feel like this, right now, you and I, though I have no idea what we’re doing and where it’s going…Well it’s still something to celebrate. And she always says, my grandma, that to celebrate perfectly you need…”

You smile.

Yeah. You don’t know where this thing between you two is going, but you do know that you never met someone who so fully understood you.

And in such a short span of time. And you know you’re not mistaking. It’s a feeling too strong to be a mistake.

He came back to fix your window for god’s sake. And trusted you enough to tell you his actual name. Without a second thought. Which meant everything. Especially since from all the hint he let slip through last time you saw each others, about his father, well…let’s just say telling people his real name wasn’t really something he was used to.

But it just works. It fits. It clicks. It’s not like with your ex, because you don’t think you know it does. It just does. The fact that you say those next few words in perfect sync finishes to convince you :

(“…And she always says, my grandma, that to celebrate perfectly you need…”)

“Salt, tequila, and lemons.”

______________________________________________

I’m so mad the Tumblr app crashed and I deleted the original post...Y’all were great and reblogged the hell out of it ! Which is why it got so many notes in such a short span of times. And feedbacks. I haven’t had that many feedbacks on a story in a long time. So just one last time and I won’t bother you with that again : Please, if you enjoyed this story, don’t hesitate to reblog it and share it with others. People who don’t follow me can’t really find my stories anymore so...you’re a big help by spreading them. It’s always very encouraging.

And if you got the time, feedbacks are always hella appreciated and always make my day a little brighter <3.

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benevolentgodloki · 6 years

Text

Roleplaying Profile Meme: PLEASE REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG! Feel free to add to any of your answers! The purpose is to tell your partners about the way you write! For the multiple choice ones, BOLD all that apply and, if you want, italicize if it’s a conditional answer!

– B A S I C S –

NAME : Pirate ARE YOU OVER 18? Yes / No IS YOUR MUSE? Yes* / No

* {what the heck is it with me and muses that are over 1000 years old I swear.}

ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU WRITE WITH ON THIS BLOG? No (anyone) / Semi (most people) / Yes / Highly / Private (mutuals only) ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU FOLLOW ON THIS BLOG? No (anyone) / Semi / Yes / Highly

{It may have been noticed that when I first started out I had my blog as ‘highly selective’, which isn’t particularly helpful for starting out ;D So for now I’m ‘selective’ and will very likely try to calm down soon with how much I take on as I’ve not even touched my ‘main’ blog since I started on this loser, oops. }

IF YOUR MUSE IS CANON, HOW MUCH TO YOU ADHERE TO CANON? Not at all / A little / Some / Mostly / Strictly / (OC)

{I try to keep Loki ‘canon’, but, well, for me, roleplay is about playing with what you’ve got and having fun. It’s fantasy. If you want to have Loki in a situation that would otherwise be totally OOC then it’s my job as a writer to find a way for that to be believable. If I wanted to write Loki just for me and keep him strictly to one ideology, then what would be the point in me sharing him? You wanna ship him? Cool, we’ll see how that works out. You want him taking over the world? Sweet, I’ll find a reason. You want him fluffy or angsty or redemptive? I can work something out. I’m a sandbox, I’m not trying to write the next Marvel movie here}

WHAT POST LENGTHS DO YOU WRITE? One Liners / Single-Para / Multi-Para / Novella

{If memes require it I’ll do one-liners or novellas if doing drabbles etc. They’re circumstantial. I’m not against one-liners, it depends on what’s happening in a thread, but I also don’t want to clog up people’s dashes except for brief crack!}

DO YOU USE ICONS AND/OR GIFS? No / Gifs / Icons / Gifcons DO YOU WRITE ON OTHER PLATFORMS? No* / Yes

{I do write some instant roleplays with Will (araedi) on Discord but generally I find these highly stressful because I have this thing where I have to immediately respond to messages (thanks anxiety, you’re great) so I literally only play with Will and a side-order of rare chat instances - or in Cards Against Humanity!}

WHAT LEVEL OF PLOTS DO YOU WRITE? Unplotted / Open Ended Plots / Semi-Plotted / Fully Plotted Epics HOW QUICKLY DO YOU USUALLY RESPOND TO THREADS? Very Slow (more than a month) / Slow (3-4 Weeks) / Average (1-2 Weeks) / Fast (Less Than One Week) / Very Fast (Less Than Three Days)

{When I get back on track with my main blog, unfortunately my posting speed is likely to deteriorate drastically. At the moment I’m taking only a few days because my health’s keeping me from doing much but enjoying Loki and I’m buzzed enough about him to even post on work nights. In anticipation of me being a slow bean, I started this blog off with this very warning in my rules. I do have a thread tracker, however, so if you’re wondering where your reply is and it’s been anything up to a week, please ask in case I’m a dumb and I lost it <3}

WHAT TYPES OF THEMES DO YOU LIKE? (feel free to add!) Fluff / Angst / Smut / Action / Tragedy / Domestic / Family / Conversational / Hurt-Comfort WHAT GENRES DO YOU LIKE? (feel free to add!) High Fantasy / Supernatural / Science Fiction / Historical / Horror / Comedy / Romantic / Drama / Action / Adventure / Espionage / Everything

{I unbolded horror but it’s dependent. Written horror isn’t like visual horror, which is something I don’t do well with. I’m a total wimp. But I can do some pretty dark nasties with fiction. I’ll try most things}

ARE THERE ANY THEMES YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WRITING ON YOUR BLOG? (not triggers) No* / Yes DO YOU HAVE ANY TRIGGERS? HOW DO YOU REQUEST IT TAGGED? No / Yes*

* {I’ll answer both these in one asterisk. My one trigger I don’t need anyone to tag because it’s very specific and unlikely to come up. If something of that ilk happens in our thread I’ll IM you to explain and it will entirely not be your fault so never worry :P I’m generally fine with most themes to write so if you’re looking for someone to try something out who’d normally say no, you can always ask.}

– S H I P P I N G –

WHAT TYPES OF RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? Romantic / Platonic / Familial / Physical / Sexual WHAT TYPES OF PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? Romantic / Platonic / Familial / Physical / Sexual

{So for Loki this one’s a bit more unusual. I’m up for varied things but some stuff requires first meetings etc. Romance will take chemistry and time (if at all, that dumb frost giant heart). Family can be pre-established if you’re playing a muse from the movies who is one of his family. I may consider AUs/OCs with other pre-established family members but plotting is key for that too. Some ships I lean more toward and may be more easily persuaded to just assume sexual things have already occurred or at the least flirting. It’s entirely muse and situation dependent basically.}

DO YOU HAVE OTPS? No / Chemistry only / Yes DO YOU HAVE NOTPS? No* / Yes / I don’t know

* { I don’t really but it’s possible? I’ve not got any on blacklist. I wouldn’t say I’m raring to go for Thorki (I don’t intend at this time to do so with my bestie Thor) but if you’re a Thor out there who’s just at their wit’s end unable to find semi-incestuous love, well, I won’t necessarily rule it out. I’ve even considered Helki because hot damn. I’m supposed to be talking about NOTPs where was I? Tbh I’m not a fan of Stucky. Each to their own. If I see too much of it on my dash I get a bit ‘ewww’ but hey if you love that, then you go love that! And that doesn’t affect Loki anyway. Basically if something feels good fictionally for me and him, I’m up for trying it)

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION? - Heterosexual / Heteroflexible / Bisexual / Homoflexible / Homosexual / Pansexual / Demisexual / Sapiosexual / Asexual / Attracted to masculinity / Attracted to femininity / Attracted to androgyny

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S ROMANTIC ORIENTATION? - Heteroromantic / Heteroflexible / Biromantic / Homoflexible / Homoromantic / Panromantic / Demiromantic / Sapioromantic / Aromantic / Polyamorous

ARE YOU COMFORTABLE WRITING SMUT? No / Selectively / Yes

HOW EARLY IN A RELATIONSHIP DO YOU SHIP ROMANTICALLY? Autoship / During Plotting / After A Couple IC Interactions / Several IC Interactions / Slow Burn /Depends on partner & muse

ARE YOU OPEN TO TOXIC SHIPS?

No / Selectively / Yes

ARE YOU OPEN TO PROBLEMATIC SHIPS? (canon history, age difference, complicated, etc.) No / Selectively / Yes

ARE YOU OPEN TO POLYSHIPPING? No / Selectively / Yes

ARE YOU AN EXCLUSIVE SHIPPER? No / Sometimes / Yes

DOES CRACK SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? No / Sometimes / Yes

DOES CROSSOVER SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? No / Yes / Depends

Tagged by: @heartfractured Tagging: Anyone following me who wants to do this. I know that sounds lazy but half of you have already probably been tagged XD

#outofillusions #about Pirate

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