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#it’s funny it looks light pink in certain lighting and dark purple in others
helioptilie · 2 years
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dyed my hair purple and i keep being surprised by my own reflection
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valerieisunavailable · 9 months
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Slender Brother Headcanons
These can be varied and everyone has their different opinions, but this is what vibes I get from him so--
Slender:
- Slender is blind. Sort of. While he can’t see you physically, he can see you very clearly with his mind (if that makes sense?) Like he knows where you're at and what your facial expressions are, your movements, etc., but with his mind. But nobody knows this except his brothers. (I also think this would be interesting for fanfics too)
- He does change his ties from time to time, but he rarely ever does it hardly anyone notices. He also has different colored suits, grey and dark dark blue (to wear it almost looks black). But only wears them on occasion.
- I feel like while yes, he does speak English, he can also speak Slavic languages too. (Oh to hear him speaking Russian, truly my favorite language. прекрасный. I also think it’s hilarious that people have added that he can speak German because of him constantly working and getting things done.)
- While he may seem cold-hearted, that’s not entirely the case. While he may think that he’s superior humans for obvious reasons, this doesn’t mean he necessarily despises them. Humans have done a lot of awful things, but have also made a lot of great accomplishments. They’re very creative and wise and have made various arts and literatures, And how can a bookworm hate the authors? Many of his pastas have suggested ideas to him about a multitude of things that have surprised him and consider other options.
- He has a caseload of all the pastas. Their backstory, mental illnesses, etc. He keeps this in mind always, even adding personal notes of how they respond in certain situations and ways to modify their behaviors if need be.
- If your ever finding feelings for him, trust me, he already knew before you thought of ways to show your affection or appreciation. He’s just waiting to see what things you’ll come up with, rather he’s interested or not. Your doing tons of research on his species and general and getting into chemicals naturally in the body and how their brains and organs work. But Offender is already helping you with that because he thinks it’s funny and wondering if you can actually pull it off. Trender is in the background criticizing both of you.
Splendor:
- Splendor is the way he is because he had more attachment to his mom. The others were ridiculed and tried to be forced into the mold their father were giving them. But his father seemed to give up rather early on Splendor for being too light-hearted. This also explains his rather child-like behavior. But Slender especially was forced into the mold to become successful. That doesn’t mean he isn’t jealous or doesn’t feel guilty at times. Whenever their father does come over, while he still complains at Slender, he mostly compliments him and says to him and the others that they should have done better and that they’re an embarrassment to the family name. This has lead up to multiple family fights and Offender and Trender standing up for Splendor when it does happen.
- Despite him acting happy, he is very insecure and causes him to very poorly bottle up his emotions. He tries to do what is expected of him but it never works out. He stands out more than anything and he’ll often isolate himself.
- Splendor is more lenient on humans because of how empathetic he is. Especially with getting to know some of the pastas’ backstories, he feels deeply connected with them because of what he’s been through, and what they’ve been through are as bad if not worse than what he’s had to deal with.
- Even though he generally wears the multi-color polka dotted suit and hat, that is not all that’s in his wardrobe. Oh no. He has the flamboyant hot-pink suit, he has purple suits, red suits, suits of all colors and suits with different polka-dot patterns. Not to count the amount of props and accessories he has for the suits alone-- I’m talking stop-watch clocks and everything.
- This man is also so fucking oblivious. Compliment all you want, but if your trying to show that your actually falling for the doofus, your going to have to be WAY more flirty than that. Why do you think Offender has all these extravagant ways to embarrass him? Because what your doing didn’t work for him in the first place.
Trender:
- Remember this dude is canonically gay. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he would be the dom in the situation either. While his general attitude is very intimidating, during sexual things he’s the more submissive guy. But that doesn’t me he won’t still complain or argue about things ya’ll should. And don’t think he isn’t kinky either. Some things I imagine him saying lol:
“In that position? Really? No offense, but I thought you’d be more creative.”
“Could you maybe go a little bit faster? Seriously this is kind of embarrassing.”
“ No no NO WRONG HOLE WRONG--” (They have more than two *wink*)
Then there’s just the random thoughts during intercourse:
“Do you think Kylie Jenner ever did it like this?”
“What kind of things would you think the Kardashians are into?”
- While he’s big in fashion design and will wear extravagant clothes from time to time, he does prefer more simple and cozy styles of clothing. Sometimes he likes to sit back and relax with some coffee too, you know.
- Catches onto things that others might not. These can be things that are very obvious to things that are complex and easy to miss.
- Despite being a fashion designer, he is afraid of needles. And tattoos. Anything with needles.
Offender:
- Acts like he doesn't care. He does.
- Despite being a sex addict and alcoholic, he does try to make those close to him happy.
- Has a bunch of scratch marks from gardening.
- Has, on multiple occasions, tried to get Slender drunk or high by putting things in his coffee or food. It has also, worked on multiple occasions.
- Has had multiple relationships with the pastas. Most of them have failed.
- A male stripper
- Will try any of Trender's outfits, including feminine ones. And any sexy clothes.
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aarcanegrimm · 3 months
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16. The Dragon Valkyrie
Masterlist
A new point of view, a meeting filled with tension. Ella is mad that Julius didn’t warn them if a potential trap and makes it known.
Warnings: none
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Fuegoleon prided himself on his keen eye and aptitude for figuring things out. Nozel was equally as sharp as he, though in the last few years he had watched as his rival had crumbled the same way his now wife had after the youngest Silva vanished. The difference was Cordelia healed, worried still, had nightmares sometimes too but she had healed and it was quite obvious that none of the Silva’s had.
He shook his head as he looked between the knights sitting battered and bruised before them- four Black Bulls, two Golden Dawn and two Crimson Lion’s.
From what he could tell from Julius’ expression he had in fact called them into this Captain’s meeting- most likely to discuss their mission to the dungeon. Something had clearly happened.
His own two knights were shaking, teens who had clearly seen something unexpected for their first mission and he felt horrible while (though shaky) Mimosa and the other Golden Dawn knight looked as composed as possible – good on them he supposed. It was the Black Bull’s however, who pulled his attention, the shorter boy seemed to have stars in his eyes as he loudly introduced himself- the magicless one from the exam some weeks ago- the taller as meek and powerful as he had been then too… and the cheery berserker always sent a chill down his spine.
The girl caught his eye, besides Yami standing beside her seemingly glaring at the cut along her forehead as though it would vanish under the stare and the way her fist clenched at her side- the other held in a sling (apparently she had dislocated her right shoulder) he recognised her. He remembers her from the exams as well… stood beside Yami’s chair, watching the crowd below with eyes that seemed far older than herself. He wanted to chuckle at the memory of how he had whipped back around when he saw her first- her hair a coppery colour and eyes a somehow familiar dark pink in the dim lighting.
“Should they not be in the infirmary still?” Fuegoleon heard Charlotte question even as his mind still wandered, the soft snores of Dorothy at his side didn’t help the lost thoughts.
Had the girl’s pinkish eyes been more purple one would think with the muddy copper hair she’d sported she was a Vermillion bastard- what a funny thought. Now her hair was a plain brown, dull just like those far too old eyes as she stared down Julius.
“It was a trap.” She declared. “Had Alder not been with us… had Luck and I not been there to sense the traps we’d still be stuck.”
What was her name… Who is Alder?
“Alder was there!” Julius exclaimed, eyes gleaming. “I-I mean are you certain? Dungeons are filled with traps already.”
Who the Hel is Alder?
“Yami taught me the difference between manmade traps and naturally formed ones in my first week of training with him Julius.” She replied- the wizard king seemed to… lean back in acceptance? She was a child she cannot talk to him that way.
“Mind your tongue girl.” Poizot said for him- the girl only levelled him a glare that could rival Meroleona’s… perhaps she is a secret Vermillion after all… he needs to talk with his sister. Fuegoleon shook his head again, clearing his thoughts as he watched everything unfold.
“I will mind nothing- he sent us on this mission knowing something would go wrong and had any of us died instead of being stood in front of you I would let Alder have him- Oak too.” She growled.
“Yami seems to have rubbed off on you Ella keke.” Jack snickered as he looked towards the angered teen.
Ella. That’s her name is it? And for the love of gods who is Alder… who is Oak?
Nozel seemed to flinch slightly as he finally looked up from the table to see the group of knights.
“Had I not been there Mimosa would certainly be missing an arm and both Dorien and Nikolas would. be. dead.”
His eyes snapped to his young cousin’s left arm covered in gauze- how had he missed that when she walked in.
“I did my fair share of-” the Golden Dawn knight started.
“You did your fair share of nothing Klaus besides yap about your superiority of being a nobleman until Asta saved your ass while we were fighting those… those rogues.” Ella was on a roll apparently as she turned her glare towards William instead of Klaus. “I would have thought you’d teach your knights differently Captain Vangeance.”
“I apologise and will correct such chatter amongst my knights.”
“Have more commoners in your squads.” The tall black-haired bull said. “I know I could have chosen any one of your squads… but because of attitude like that I’m glad I didn’t.”
Unfortunately he had a point.
“I…” Klaus looked apologetic and Mimosa extremely uncomfortable- her eyes darting towards Fuegoleon with a grimace.
“Mimosa is this true? Your arm?” The Crimson Lion Captain questioned his shy young cousin. She nodded.
“I was grabbed by… by one of the men in the dungeon. He- he tried to…” Mimosa’s voice shook and before Fuegoleon could even move Ella had pulled her in for a tight hug, talking softly.
“Shh Mimosa it’s okay.”
Fuegoleon had made strides across the room until he was kneeling before her.
“What happened Mimosa?” He asked gently.
“His hands were on me.” Her lip shook. “But I fought him off- kicked him and used my plant magic after the surprise wore off and then… he had fire magic- grabbed my arm again and… it burnt really bad- I healed most of it.”
“Then Ella sent this giant water dragon at the bastard!” Asta announced, with a grin aimed at Mimosa. She smiled back clearly relieved he took over (and with a blush- not that he noticed… keen eye Logi’s ass). “I thought it was Alder at first before I realised he was still behind Yuno and I with Dorien and Nikolas- then he shot off towards Yami… Ella got a new spell Captain and I got a new sword- how cool!”
All eyes looked to the pink eyed girl who just shrugged and stepped away from the Vermillion’s back to Yami’s side.
“I do apologise for sending you… I did know something would happen but I did not know what.” All of the Captain’s turned at that. “I apologise Ella, Asta, Yuno, Klaus, Luck, Mimosa, Nikolas and Dorien please expect an increase pay for your next month of missions- I would pay for your medical but as Magic Knights at your age they are free.”
“I accept that.” Nikolas said, rubbing at their forehead where a large bruise lay. Dorien’s hand moving to tap his chin. “Dorien says thank you as well.”
Fuegoleon only placed a hand on Mimosa’s shoulder, gentle enough to be a comfort before he turned to fully face Ella.
“Thank you Ella- I’m glad all of you are safe but as Mimosa is my cousin I must thank you properly.”
“It’s fine.” She said all too quickly, eyes darting away- those familiar pinkish eyes (again Logi’s ass)- avoiding eye contact at all costs. “I’m just glad we all made it out in one piece.”
“I think we’ll be upping your training now.” Yami grumbled to the girl.
Then it hit… Yami was training her- a stray memory from a few years ago where Yami was grumbling about some ‘brat’ bugging him and yet living at the base.
~~*~~*~~*~~
The Captain’s had been out, drinking and relaxing away from their hectic squads while Yami and Jack prepped a round of cards for them all- Charlotte and Dorothy not joining in favour of *girl time*.
“She’s a pain in my ass.” Yami muttered to Jack beside him, Fuegoleon on the slashing captain’s other side listening with little interest.
“Keke, kick her out then.”
“Lyra would kill me and then Morgen would help her.” Yami slurred. “Brat wants me to train her even though she’s like… eleven now? Been living with us for a year already”
“Who would want you to train them?” Nozel cut from across the table, on one of those rare, good days. “Some wild creature?”
“I’d call her that.” Yami snorted, throwing back a pint of beer- calling for another soon after.
“Oh that young girl who was with you outside of the Captain’s meeting the other week?” William asked- and Fuegoleon couldn’t deny it now, he was intrigued in the conversation even as he sipped slowly on his wine. “Ella was it? Very shy girl- but training for what?”
“She wants to join the Bulls- I use a sword, she’s pretty decent with one and has a great sword and knife set that looks more expensive than our wages- and wants me to help her use her sword as a conduit or some shit. She’s stubborn I’ll give her that.”
“Says the man who bought her a book on sword fighting techniques Keke- and those weights I told you about.”
“Sounds like she’s got you hook line and sinker Yami.” William laughed. “Why gift her anything at all if you don’t like her a little bit?”
“It was her birthday- that day I took her to the capital.” Fuegoleon turned his head at the serious tone in the Black Bull’s Captain’s voice.
“And?” Poizot questioned.
“Not my story to tell- just that she’s had a rough life for only being eleven.”
~~*~~*~~*~~
He can see why Yami finally agreed to train her. She clearly had a stubborn streak- and the amount of mana Fuegoleon could feel on her from that day at the exams and now… he gets it, she’s powerful, she needs the training- the question is why did she choose Yami?
~~*~~*~~*~~
Ella didn’t like the way Fuegoleon watched her, like there was something he was figuring out… and by the gods she hoped he wasn’t figuring anything out. She was already mad that Mimosa could have seen the colour drain from her hair in the dungeon let alone if the Crimson Lion Captain could recognise her.
It was Nozel though that she was more worried about.
He was so, so fucking close and she wanted to leave, to run away again. She clenched her good fist again, angry- she was so mad at Julius for sending them in even though she knows it couldn’t have been his fault that it was a trap… but he knew something was going to go wrong… she was mad at how dishevelled and broken Nozel looked, like her disappearance had actually hurt him- had brought him to the end of the world but he had broken her so much in her last life.
A phantom itch in her wrist grounded her as she kept her eyes on the Wizard King- don’t look at Nozel, no matter what do not look.
Ella let out a sharp breath through her nose, like when the Dragons huffed out steam, it was grounding, calming enough that she could tear her eyes from the calm faced Wizard King. She was still pissed beyond measure, but calmer. Yami placed a hand on her good shoulder, grounding her again.
“Alder going to be jealous of that new spell?” The Bulls Captain joked- easing the tension in the room.
“Alder is sentient, whatever shit I pulled in the dungeon wasn’t… I don’t think so anyway.” She beamed up at him- forced but still an honest smile.
“Who is Alder?” Captain Vangeance’s softer voice brought Ella away from Yami. She blinked at him, pezzottaite eyes gleaming bright as a mischievous smile etched on her face.
“My dragon.”
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ericsonclan · 2 years
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Okay, this ones a bit easier I guess (or I hope so xD)
Not sure if you are familiar with the How to train your Dragon franchise, but what kind of dragon would each Ericson Kid ride? Or would they ride one at all? Maybe they still hold on to the old Vikings-bashing-Dragons ideology, who knows?
Got that idea from my sister, she was just pure as always
"You know, maybe I'll ask later what they think about a Httyd AU. What do you think about it?"
"A Screaming Death for Marlon."
"..."
"You know, because of the scream when he-"
"I know. I know that scene in and out. And you are too brutal sometimes. I can see it. But it's brutal."
YES! Love How to Train Your Dragon! Let's see well to start off we would say that the au would follow the movies' plot somewhat. Willy would be the protagonist so he would be HIccup. Makes sense since he's a lanky kid who wants to het stronger and who has a knack for inventions. That would make Allison Astrid then. The two of them would help the other Ericson kids see that dragons aren't evil. Now onto which dragons each Ericson kid gets.
Clementine: Shivertooth. She met it when it was busy pranking a hunter who thought he could outsmart it. Clementine and the dragon met eyes and it was intrigued by her so it decided to stick by her. With sharp scales and a mischievous side its a dragon you shouldn't mess with.
Louis: Light Fury, he doesn't meet his dragon for a while but he wanted to make sure whatever dragon he chooses he would be its friend for life. His dragon was cautious and skittish for a while but Louis would visit it each night with a snack and eventually, it stayed by Louis' side.
Violet: Deadly Nadder with dark blue scales and speckles of yellow and white along its body and wings. Looks similar to a starry night sky. It enjoys nighttime rides and visiting a certain inventor on the island who Violet has a crush on.
Marlon: Snafflefang, an active dragon who loves snacking on geodes. It may not look that intimidating but just wait until it's in battle. Exploding fireballs, a hard hit from its spike-like tail. It's brutal but most of the time Marlon goes on adventures with his dragon letting it frolic and play with the different dragons.
Mitch: Windwalker. A dragon that's fast can shoot fire and water blasts and uses lighting. Hell yeah! He had a really tough time earning the dragon's trust but once he did it became an unbreakable bond. Let's just not talk about how many burnt pairs of pants he got thanks to his dragon.
Brody: Raincutter with blue and purple scales on its back and wings with a pink belly. She rescued it before it got sold off and it immediately flew off. An hour later it returned with a large fish as a thanks to Brody and has stuck by her side ever since.
Aasim: Snifflehunch. People teased him and his dragon for its name but Aasim didn't care. He loves his dragon in all its fire-sneezing glory. He just has to make sure that it doesn't sneeze near anything important. Those sneezes will melt nearly anything.
Ruby: Thunderclaw, it may not be much of a flyer but damn can it fight. It's cute but feisty, perfect for Ruby. She tries to make sure it doesn't make though since it can't fly and then it gets sad when it can't play in the air with the other dragons.
Omar: Gronckle with a more brown and orange tone to its scales. It's a big chunky dragon and Omar loves it to pieces. Definitely give its treats all the time.
Sophie: Hotburple, a dragon that is lazy sleepy, and eats way too much scrap metal. It also had a tendency to nap while in flight. Funny in concept not so funny when it's nosediving towards a cave. Sophie learned that the hard way.
Minnie: Timberjack. She likes to vibe in the woods with it. Her Timberjack enjoys peace and solace and hey sometimes so does she. She doesn't pressure it into getting into fights. Sometimes it shields her from the cold with its wings. So yeah she loves her dragon.
Tenn: A little herd of terrible terrors who follow him around everywhere. They can be prickly but they are deeply fond of Tenn who doesn't mind having little dragons by his side.
AJ: Typhoomerang, a fast dragon that rotates during flight at high speeds. AJ meet the dragon when it was caught in a trap and he saved it. After a ride together and seeing the ash from its burning takeoff AJ knew he had the most badass dragon ever.
James: He also has a Timberjack his being a smokey color than Minnie's. He found it trying to run away from hunters but due to its lack of legs, it was doomed. James saved it though and the dragon bonded with him. It hates fighting but hey so does James so it works out well.
Willy: He gets a Night Fury and it follows close to how HIccup met Toothless except Willy names his dragon something else. He helps built it a back fin and they are the best of buds.
And then a few of our ocs too!
Prisha: Thornridge, a dragon that looks more intimidating than it is. It freaked out when it spotted Prisha and ended up attacking her from the shadows due to being scared. Prisha was calm and understanding with it, helping it settled down. This teal dragon is always there to help its friends and family. It likes wandering around aimlessly but always returns back to Prisha with a friendly headbutt. Sometimes it distracts Prisha from a new invention she’s working on.
Allison: Deadly Nadder, hers has a mix of purple and teal scales around its body. It tends to find rocks for Allison knowing that she likes them. It is a dragon that can't get enough exercise and loves flying so Allie is up in the skies the most.
Renata: Hobblegrunt, a dragon that changes colors depending on mood with yellow being happy, purple meaning curious, and red meaning you're in deep shit. It's known as a lucky dragon due to how sensitive it is due to the fins on head. Renata sure feels lucky having found her dragon buddy and based on the fact that her Hobblegrunt is constantly being yellow she can tell it loves being with her too.
Had a blast making this, really tempted to start writing for an au like this. Thanks again for the ask!
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demoiselettes · 1 year
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hihii!! ur blog looks so cute i love it <3 can i req a match up? My name is katie but i go by lun4r online, my pronouns are she/they, and im omnisexual :]
my appearance is kinda pale, pretty short (4'10), dark brown eyes and hair, short hair that has kinda spiky ends (like a wolfcut), and dark circles/eyebags haha. I have an alternative style (emo & scene/scenecore) and i wear things like spiked collars and bracelets, fingerless gloves, *those* type of boots, and LOTS of kandi! I also commonly paint my nails (mostly either black or rainbow) but i pick them a lot so they're very short.
my personality is very anxious, kind, smart, funny (according to my 5 friends), pretty insecure, shy, quiet, and tired. I get hungry easily but i only like certain foods. I have a bunch of disorders (GAD, SAD, MDD/clinical depression, Selective mutism, ADHD, insomnia, and potentially autism) and i get easily overstimulated/overwhelmed by sounds, lights, smells, etc. I have very intense interests that i love to talk about and write stuff for XvX also, i desperately want a significant other, idk if that's helpful but yeah ^^
my hobbies/interests are writing (specifically poetry & essays), reading manga, watching anime, drawing, reading regular books, listening to music, and making kandi stuff (bracelets, necklaces, rings, etc.)
my likes are bats, poetry, psychology, sugary foods, caffeine, nighttime, books, manga, anime, politics, philosophy kinda, emoticons, and making kandi ^_^
my dislikes are hot weather, bugs, heights, multiple sensory things (certain sounds, for example), judgey people, bigots, and doing bad on stuff.
my favorite color is orange but i also like black, pink, green, and purple!
Eventide
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I match you with Inosuke Hashibira!
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•inosuke’s first thought/impression of you would probs be ‘hey..that must be an important person.’ bc of your style
•He’s definitely going to challenge you to duals and the likes
•It takes him a while to figure out you don’t rule over any mountain and that you’re not a god
•When he does figure it out, he just clicks his tongue and calls you weak- specially due to your height
•But he keeps finding you intriguing, since not a lot of people he knows dress the way you do
•He’s gonna be following you around a lot, pestering you with questions
•It doesn’t take him too long to understand that you don’t enjoy him yelling/screaming
•Of course, he can’t understand exactly why because most animals he’s grown up with growl and shriek and even Gonpachiro and Monitsu yell a lot
•You’re gonna have to take your time to make him understand that these things can easily overwhelm you, and even then it’ll be a long shot before he remembers not to yell around you but he’ll get to it eventually
•Your selective mutism is what puzzles him the most
•He knows you can speak, so why don’t you do so? He knows some people can’t speak at all but you can..
•In the beginning, he’s probably going to think you’re looking down on him and not finding him worth talking to
•So he’s gonna try and show you just how worthy he is by flexing his muscles and sword skills and.. flexibility
•It’s only when his friends tell him that you might just not be too comfortable with speaking that he understands you’re not looking down on him
•This’ll probably be the turning point of your relationship
•He’s gonna ask you a bunch of questions(though not yell them) about your conditions and he’s gonna try and take note to try and not trigger you, though he still finds you puzzling
•In some ways, he understands your desire to have a significant other though in his terms it’s a, um.. ‘mate’ but y’know
•Still, he finds it more virile to fight demons and assert dominance
•Y’know, once he’s gotten the hang of your conditions, he’s definitely gonna be sort of protective of you
•Like if Zenitsu starts screaming he’s gonna slap his head and tell him to quiet down for your sake
•He wouldn’t know what to do much with your anxiety and how to handle it too much, but he’s will try to offer comfort by reassuring you that you’ve got the king of the mountain to protect you !!
•He likes to put you in headlocks and ruffle your hair as a greeting
•And he most definitely wants to dress up like you do, thinks it’d make him more flashy(Tengen really influenced him)
•He’s going to help you make kandi! He’s super bad at it though and gets easily frustrated when he can’t make good ones like you
•I feel like he’d single-handedly go to Obanai and ask him to teach you poetry so he can impress you and ofc he’d get into a fight with the snake pillar cause the latter would refuse
•Knows a lot about bats, having grown up in the forest, and definitely tells you whatever he knows to show just how smart he is, but he also secretly likes seeing you happy you didn’t hear it from me
•On the other hand, he’s much less versed in terms of books and politics and though he isn’t interested in the latter, he’s gonna try and learn how to read so the two of you can spend time reading books together he’s such a closeted softie sldnejsjdb
•I cannot tell you how many times he’d pester you to draw him, he insists he’s one of the best models
•Would ask you to paint his nails too, but he can’t stay still for the love of him
•Okay, i’m sorry but before he learns of your dislike for bugs, he’s gonna bring you ladybugs as ‘gifts’
•But then quickly takes them away from your reaction and never brings any bugs back
•Despite Inosuke having really strong opinions, he’s not all that judgmental. For that reason, he also dislikes people judging him and his minions aka you, Tanjiro and Zenitsu
•He’s not against fighting people who contradict you
•I also feel like he’d compliment you a lot, but they’d always be weird compliments like ‘you look like a wolf’ and what he means is ‘you look regal and elegant’
•He’d give you lots of fruits since he’d know when and where to get the best ones and he thinks they’re healthier for you than sugary foods
•Also has a thing for sneaking you out during the night to stargaze or explore forests even though he’d been caught by Aoi/Shinobu a lot :,)
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quindolyn · 3 years
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Better Kisser Part 2 || James Potter and Lily Evans
Request: “istg i need a fic or a blurb or something about being in a poly relationship with lily and james...after reading Better Kisser it’s all i can think about 😭” -anon
and
“hiii !! first of all, i love your writings they’re so amazing honestly !! could you maybe write something with hot lily from “better kisser” ? i’d love it if it was both sensual and fluff :) thanks so much if you ever do something like that! hope you have a nice day/night!“ -anon
and
“QUINN HEAR ME OUT
imagine a part two to better kisser but like smutty bc Lily starts bragging about how she thinks she’s better at other things since she’s the better kisser so they make it a competition over who can like... get the reader off fastest... and then it’s like a competition to see who can get her off the most...
good ideas here right...? N E ways love u bestie <3″ -anon
Word Count: 4,752
Notes:I got three separate requests for this so obviously y’all wanted it and I want to write it. This is smut! I could also do headcanons on Jily x reader and even if you guys don’t request it I’ll probably still write them because it sounds like fun.
Warnings: poly sex, jily x reader, dom!James, dom!Lily, sub!reader, LIly’s a sex god, prove me wrong, they’re both cocky as fuck
Part 1
Masterlist
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Lily Evans was the stars, she was mesmerizing and mysterious. Just as they decorated the night sky, accentuating the darkness through their beauty she too brought out the best in those around her without dulling any of her own shine. She was sly smiles and gentle touches, slender pale fingers and long, swishing red hair. She was wondrous and beautiful, complex and absolutely gorgeous. Lily Evans, she was the stars.
James Potter was the sun, he was bright and glowing and impossible to ignore. James was messy black hair, and goofy grins, strong hands and bear hugs. He attracted all of those around him, sucking them into his gravitational field, giving them purpose, warming their souls. A centering person when the rest of their lives were crazy and unpredictable and scary. James Potter, he was the sun.
Where Lily was understated and controlled with her witty remarks and sharp quips James was loud and boisterous, trying to get the biggest reaction out of people. Where Lily was calm James was chaotic. Where she was focused on her end goal he was everywhere, practically bouncing off the walls.
Together they were perfect.
And somehow they were yours.
One thing was for certain, Sirius Black was an upright prick, and you owed him, bigtime. If it weren’t for Sirius Black you would’ve never kissed Lily Evans on a dare. You would’ve never kissed James to satisfy his curiosities. You wouldn’t have spent weeks exchanging tense glances with the two, holding your breath whenever one of them so much as sat down one seat away from you in the Great Hall. Lily would’ve never found you, hiding away in the common room in the wee hours of the morning, pouring over your Transfiguration notes preparing for your test the following morning, or rather later in the day. She never would’ve brushed the hair out of your face with her elegant fingers, nails painted in a berry shade, complimenting her pale skin. She never would’ve told you that you really needed to go to bed, she never would’ve leaned down, meshing her lips with yours, allowing you to answer that question that had plagued you after you kissed Lily. 
What did her lips taste like when she wasn’t drunk?
The answer?
Well at that moment, morning breath. Which brought a new question to the forefront of your mind, what did she taste like when she hadn’t just woken up in the middle of the night?
It didn’t take long for you to find out the answer. She’d brought you up to bed, her hand clasped with yours, telling you that she and James wanted to talk to you in the morning resulting in you tossing and turning all night in anticipation of the conversation that would take place the next day.
If it weren’t for Sirius Black you never would’ve had that conversation with James and Lily by the Black Lake. You never would’ve even had the opportunity to accept their offer not to join their relationship but to start a new one, with all three of you. You never would have never learned what Lily tasted like, it was maple syrup and cherries by the way.
If it weren’t for Sirius Black you wouldn’t be sitting in your dorm room with the two of them, skimming over notes for your potions midterm. Well you and Lily were looking over your extensive notes, James on the other hand was sitting behind you, pressing kisses to the side of your neck.
You hissed as he dragged his teeth over a bruised spot on your neck, sending ripples of both pain and pleasure through your body, leaving your fingertips tingling, dying to get themselves on his skin.
“Aw, baby,” He cooed in your ear as he registered your reaction, it’s not as though he could’ve missed it, not with your back pressed flush against his chest, “You a little sensitive there?”
“Come on Jamie,” You giggle trying to hide your neck from him, pressing your ear to your shoulder, “You already know I am.”
James slipped his rough, strong fingers under your jaw, using them to lift your head back up, away from your shoulder, “Don’t hide from me darling, wanna see the marks I left on you.” He returned his lips to the same spot on your neck, lapping slightly at the purple mark with his tongue.
Lily snorted from where she laid on her stomach a couple inches away from you on the same bed that had been transfigured to accommodate all three of you.
“What’s so funny Lils?” James inquired, peeking up from the delicate skin covering your thrumming pulse.
“Nothing,” She sang, twirling her pen in between her fingers, her feet hanging lazily in the air, “I just think it's funny you think you left that mark on her.”
“Well I did,” James said plainly, obviously not amused by Lily’s comment, “Didn’t I poppet?” He asked, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.
You ducked your head, trying to hide your wide eyes and heated cheeks from the two of them. 
“It’s okay (Y/N),” Lily cooed, setting her quill down in her book, marking her page as she closed the book, dropping it onto the floor, “You can tell him it was me who left that, his ego can take it.” She held eye contact with you for a minute, managing to keep a straight face before a smile broke out across her lips, chuckles erupting from the soft cushions of her lips, lathered in a light pink gloss, “Okay, it probably can’t but that shouldn’t stop you baby, Jamie needs to remember that he’s not the only one who can make you feel good.”
“I know I’m not Flower, but I left this one, I can tell, it's one of the darker ones.” And he was right, the entire left side of your neck was littered in bruises and bites, some lighter than others, some darker, but none as dark as the one he was currently tracing with his index finger.
“Nope,” Lily countered, popping her p before pushing herself up off of her shins in order to settle between your open legs, “I distinctly remember, I had her pressed up against the wall before you got back from Quidditch practice, she moaned so pretty for me, prettier than she ever has for you.” She grinned victoriously, turning her gaze back to you, and only you, “It’s like he cares more about that fucking snitch than he does us.”
“That’s bullshit love and you know it,” He murmured in your ear pressing a kiss against the corner of your mouth before dragging his lips, considerably less rough than they were before you started dating him as you’d made it your mission to apply lip balm to his lips every time you saw him, across the side of your face back to your ear, “She’s just trying to turn you against me, she’s so mean isn’t she.”
They loved doing this. Making you choose between the two of them, or trying to anyway. The power struggle between the two of them was hot as fuck.
Before you could so much as open your mouth Lily was responding for you, “I’m not mean doll,” She crooned, not looking at you but rather focusing on the dark haired boy whose nimble fingers were expertly pulling at the hem of your shirt, slowly but steadily rolling up the material until it covered just was much as your bra, “Jamie just needs to remember who the better kisser here is, who makes you feel the best.”
Ignoring her jab James murmured a quick, “Want this off,” In your ear before pulling the shirt over your head and arms, tossing it off the bed and onto the floor paying it no mind as soon as the material slipped from his fingers. 
Desperate to prove his worth, to prove his dominance James’ hands ran up and down your thighs, inching your skirt up them, “You’re not the better kisser here Flower, you’re not the best anything. Our baby here loves me the most.”
“She told us James,” Lily sighed, clearly exasperated with your boyfriend, “After she kissed you for the first time she told us. I’m the better kisser, just accept it. She likes me the most don’t you (Y/N/N)?”
“Jamie you make me feel so good,” You began, hoping to soften the blow, “But Lily’s tongue is magic, feels so good in my mouth, in my-my…” 
“It’s okay pretty girl,” She simpered, “You can say it, where does my mouth feel good?”
“My pussy,” You forced out, willing yourself not to stutter. 
“That’s right my pretty little kitten,” She grinned, tilting your chin up with her index finger so that you were staring into her swirling emerald irises, darkened with obvious desire. “I make your pussy feel so good, better than Jamie.”
“Off.” James demanded, not taking kindly to Lily’s teasing, as he aggressively undid the clasp on your bra, the snide remarks obviously doing no damage to his ego as he pulled the straps from your arms. Taking no care with the expensive, luxurious garment that he himself had bought for you he flung the clothing over his shoulder. Clearly not caring about the money he’d spent on it as the silky material crumpled next to the bed.
“Not just my tongue that makes you feel better isn’t that right my darling?” Lily smirked, beginning to undo the buttons on her button up, “S’my fingers too, stretching you out on my fingers, they can reach so much further in you than his can.”
“Pfft,” James shook his head, one hand settling on your waist, gripping with a frankly frightening strength, no doubt melding dark purple bruises in the shapes of his fingertips on your soft skin.
“Gimme your hand Flower, let me show our baby that you’re wrong” James demanded as the hand not on your waist extended towards the redhead. When she dropped her hand in his he immediately lined them up, palm against palm, fingers against fingers, and much to James’ chagrin his hands were only barely larger than hers. His palm was much larger than hers leaving his fingers slightly shorter than his girlfriend’s.
Feeling benevolent, you grabbed his hand before it dropped down to his thigh in defeat, pressing your hands together as he had pressed his to Lily’s. Yours were considerably smaller than his, and therefore her’s too, your palm nearly half the size as his, your fingers dwarfed by his. 
“See Jamie, your hands are bigger than mine.” You comforted, mesmerized by the contrast, “Your fingers make me feel so much better than mine ever could. They don’t even come close.” 
“But that’s besides the point right poppet?” Lily questioned, grasping your jaw in her graceful hand, you noticed her ivory dress shirt now hung open, revealing her red lace clad breasts as she once again tilting your head up to look her in the eyes, “Because you’re not allowed to touch yourself, not without my permission.”
“Or mine,” James piped up.
Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend Lily released her grip on your jaw, “Keep your eyes on me darling, be my good girl.”
“You even like my strap more than you like James’ cock, stretches you out so much better than he ever could. Not to mention we don’t have to wait for his little blue pill to work do we?”
Being a muggle born you understood her joke but James was utterly bewildered by your shared laughter.
“You’re not laughing at me are you, you little slut?” James spat, his voice hard and unwavering as he turned your face with a single finger so that your neck was craned to look at him.
“N-no,” You shook your head pathetically, your eyes flashing downwards not being able to meet him.
“Open,” He commanded, tapping your bottom lip and you instantly obeyed, not daring to disobey him. You were rewarded for your obedience by the male spitting into your mouth, the taste of his saliva bleeding along the expanse of your tongue.
“What do we say to Jamsie, pretty girl?” Lily raised an expectant eyebrow.
“Thank you.”
“Good girl,” James muttered, watching as you swallowed the gift he’d given you, “Thought you’d forgotten your manners for a second.”
“Not our good girl,” Lily grinned, somehow now only in her thong, “No, she’s such a good girl for us.”
“Guess she is,” James agreed, leaving a trail of kisses between your shoulder blades.
“Bet I can make our baby cum first James,” Lily boasted, beginning to work on the zipper of your skirt, expertly pulling it off of your legs, “Being the better kisser and all.”
“Don’t get cocky Evans,” James tutted, pulling his shirt over his head as he had yours, “You know I love your strap baby but it just can’t compare to my cock. Mine’s real.”
Clearly unimpressed by his comment Lily pressed her lips to yours, maneuvering you so that you too were on your knees, giving James time to strip down to the same level of clothing as the two of you. 
Smiling into the kiss she put but a millimeter of distance between the two of you to catch her breath, “You taste so good kitten.”
“You’re the one who tastes good Lily.”
“So nice to me, don’t deserve you,” She planted a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “Let me make you feel good baby.” 
Not complaining, you let Lily lie you back on the bed where James was no longer standing, instead now standing behind Lily, letting his hands settle on her hips. 
Once you were lying down she hooked her hands under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed as James helped her off the mattress, helping her plant her feet on the floor. It was things like this, the subtle loving gestures and actions even when they were practically at each other’s throats, that reminded you of how much they loved each other. Of how much they loved you.
“Look at these,” Lily lilted, her finger hooking under the silky material of your panties, “So pretty aren’t they J?”
“Very,” He whispered in her ear only loud enough for you to barely hear him, “Like her in red.”
Lily hummed in affirmation, tapping your hip as a non verbal clue to lift your hips so she could pull them off of you.
She didn’t waste a single second before kneeling down before you so that her face was level as your glistening pussy, already so wet from them just talking about pleasuring you. 
After running a single finger through your folds Lily brought her finger to her lips, a hum leaving her lips. “You taste good down here too (Y/N), you have such a pretty pussy.”
“Thank you,” You murmured, attempting not to whine and be their good girl even though you desperately wanted them to touch you. 
Without any warning Lily inserted two slender fingers into your cunt causing you to gasp at the sensation. “Lily,” You whimpered, trying not to buck your hips towards her hand, not wanting to let on quite yet how desperate you really were. 
“See J?” You could hear the smirk on her lips as she slowly moved her fingers in and out of you, paying you no other mind, instead directing her attention to her boyfriend who still stood behind her, his hands now on her bare shoulders. “She’s really not all that hard to please when you actually know what you’re doing. Had my fingers in her two seconds and she’s already so needy for me.”
“Shut up Lils,” James growled, “Stop talking like I don’t know how to get her off, she’s my baby too, I know exactly how to get her desperate.” In his efforts to prove his point he moved onto the bed, taking one of your nipples into his mouth resulting in a whine to tumble from your lips as he raked his teeth over the sensitive bud.
As his mouth sucked on one his hand moved to the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers before pinching harshly making you gasp in pleasure.
Lily allowed James to have his moment before taking your clit between her lips and sucking. If you gasped for James you absolutely screamed for Lily, thank Merlin for silencing charms because otherwise someone would’ve probably thought you were being tortured. Once she had your sensitive bundle of nerves in her mouth she began humming, making wave after wave of intense ecstasy roll through your core and up your spine, leaving your nerve endings frayed and responsive to every single touch.
You could feel everything, the soft material of the duvet beneath your back, James’ tongue circling your nipple, one hand caressing your heated cheek while the other traced shapes down your stomach. You could feel Lily’s fingers continuing their assault on your cunt, reaching so deep inside of you that they almost touched your g-spot, but not quite, as your clit was set aflame by her mouth. 
“You’re not even trying,” Lily snarked, coming up for a breather from in between your legs, “You really think you’re gonna get  her to cum from playing with her nipples? I never realized you were that daft Jamsie.”
“If you’d give me a turn,” He began before Lily cut him off.
“Doesn’t look like she wants me to stop does it?” She nodded in your direction where you were writhing on the bed merely from her fingers. “Do you want me to stop, baby?”
“No,” You begged, “Please don’t stop, please! Need your fingers in me, make me feel so good.”
Grinning triumphantly Lily returned her mouth to your pulsing cunt, sucking with a new found vigor that had your back careening off of the mattress, hips bucking towards her mouth.
“Hey,” James scolded, moving his arm to keep your hips firmly on the bed, “Don’t be a desperate slut, take it as she gives you it okay? Be good for us.”
Nodding feebly you willed your hips still but it was nearly impossible as Lily replaced her fingers with her tongue, moving her digits to pinch your clit. Feeling the pleasure bubble up in your stomach you focused on your girlfriend’s ministrations, lapping at your hole with her tongue sent you into a whole new level of pleasure.
“Feels so good! Lily, that feels so good, please don’t stop!”
You could feel her smiling into your opening as she sped up her movements, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice of climax. “Am I allowed to cum?” You asked desperately, the only thing keeping your hips where they were being James’ strong forearm, digging into your hip bones.
“No,” He growled, slapping at your tit bringing you even closer to something you were apparently not allowed to do. 
“Come on James,” Lily said replacing her tongue with her fingers as she moved her head to talk to the dark haired boy, “You can’t just tell her she’s not allowed to cum because it’s not you who’s going to make her cum,” Turning her attention back to you she smiled, “Of course you’re allowed to cum baby, don’t listen to him. Are you close, m’love?”
“Uh huh,” You screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure becoming overwhelming and only intensifying when Lily’s mouth returned to your clit, licking broad stripes up and down it. 
“Baby look at me,” James’ deep voice commanded you, to which you promptly obeyed, “Wanna see you when you fall apart on her tongue, wanna see you cum baby, you’re so pretty when you cum.”
James’ words accompanied by a particularly harsh nip by Lily to your clit has you tipping over the edge, letting out a high pitched scream as pleasure took over your body, drowning you in the feeling of your lovers still working on your body, obviously not satisfied with leaving you with just one orgasm.
As you came to, your orgasm slowly seeped away from your cloudy mind, reentering you into your dorm room where you heard Lily’s melodic voice, “See James, told you I could make her cum first.”
“Didn’t even get a chance,” He grumbled from his place next you, brushing the hairs off of your forehead. “Wanna make you cum poppet, tell Lily to give me a turn.”
“L-lils,” You managed in your post orgasmic haze, “Want Jamsie, want his- want his…”
“Look at how good of a job I did on our baby,” The redhead boasted, “Just one in and already a blubbery little mess. How do you think she’s gonna be fairing when I have her on her fourth?”
“Only shooting for four Lils?” James raised a defined eyebrow, “I was thinking I could get at least five out of her myself.”
Your eyes widened, slightly in alarm, slightly in anticipation. “F-five?”
“Shh kitten, let us talk,” Lily chaisted lightly. “You really do think highly of yourself don’t you Potter?”
“I’ve done it before,” He countered.
“No, we’ve done it before, both of us. Neither of us have ever gotten her to five by ourselves.”
“Don’t think you can do it Flower?” As he rose from the bed and moved towards Lily you caught sight of his cock, already painfully hard, the tip a bright red and leaking with precum.
“S’not me I’m worried about, don’t wanna overwhelm our baby.”
“I can do it,” You piped in feebly, “I can take it, make me feel good please, wanna feel good.”
“See Lily? If she says she can take it, who are we to question her?”
“You sure poppet?” Lily asked you, her eyes on yours.
“Yes Lily, I’m sure.”
That was all James needed to nudge Lily out from between your legs, spitting on his fingers before rubbing them up against your pussy. “You need me to stretch you out darling?” His voice laced with absolute adoration as he took in your perspiring figure from this new angle.
You shook your head but James wasn’t satisfied, “Wanna hear your voice poppet, come on not too fucked out yet are you?”
“No, don’t need you to stretch me out, want your cock.”
He grinned, lining up the tip of his cock with your quivering entrance, “There’s my good girl.”
As he pushed into you you faintly questioned why you didn’t have him stretch you out beforehand, but once he was fully sheathed inside you all you could think about was the way his dick pressed perfectly against your g-spot. 
You moaned out as he began thrusting into you, ruthless in his efforts to make you cum. He moved his hands to hold your hips at an angle where he could better reach deeper inside of you if that was even possible.
“So pretty baby girl,” His grin was wicked as he watched your cunt, reveling in the sight of his cock going in and out of your dripping pussy, “You look so pretty on my cock, you gonna make a mess f’me?”
“She’s not gonna cum yet you himbo,” Lily interjected, “You’ve been inside her what? Five seconds? You need her to cum soon? You close?”
Using Lily’s mocking as motivation he pistoned his hips in and out even more viciously, leaving you a bouncing mess on his cock as he pulled his prick almost all the way out, so that only the leaking red head was still inside of you before fully sheathing himself in you once more.
“Fuck!” You cried out as the tip of his member brushed against your cervix, “Don’t stop!”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” James managed through gritted teeth, throwing your legs over his shoulders so that he wouldn’t have to hold them in his hands any longer, giving him the ability to grip your hips.
So lost in your pleasure you hadn’t registered where Lily was until she sat next to you on the bed, moving her fingers to massage your clit pulling a strangled gasp from your throat.
“L-Lily,” You stuttered out.
“Hey there baby,” She cooed, like she was talking to an actual child, “Jamie making you feel good.”
You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on hers.
“You close, kitten? You gonna cum soon?”
A whimper escaped your lips this time as you nodded once more.
“Let me see if I can help with that then, wanna see you cum again pretty girl.”
You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the mattress with a soft thud as Lily’s fingers started working magic on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm.
A slap against your clit, combined with the deep, hard thrusts of your boyfriend, reaching depths within you you could’ve only imagined before him sent you careening. Your climax washed over you in waves, each stronger than the last making you twitch and spasm on the bed.
You hadn’t even registered that you’d squirted, not until Lily’s delicate hands were rubbing your release up and down your thighs, “Well would you look at that?” James grinned, “I didn’t see you make her squirt Lils.”
“Oh, you don’t get points for this one pretty boy,” Lily grinned, not making eye contact with him but rather focusing on your pulsing cunt.
“What?” James was incredulous, “What do you mean I don’t get credit for that one, she came on my cock.”
“Yes, technically, but she only came when I started on that pretty little clit of hers, so responsive isn’t it, doll?” She asked, punctuating her remark with a gentle slap against your still throbbing cunt and a quick wink that James was too bewildered to pick up on.
Over the next couple of hours they were able to lull a number of orgasms out of you, James making Lily sit in a chair next to the bed so that she couldn’t touch you at all and take credit for any of his hard work.
You’d cum on her tongue and his, both of their fingers, once at the same time, they split the credit for that one but it was worth it, getting to watch your cunt stretch around both of them. You came on James’ cock more times than you could count, and of course on Lily’s strap on because Godric, did she know how to move her hips.
By the end you’d cum a grand total of nine times. You weren’t quite sure how’d you’d done it but you had. And they were both so proud of you.
The final score was Lily, five. James, four. You’d better believe that James was butt hurt about it, not quite willing to accept his obvious defeat, instead of acknowledging it and conceding to his very talented girlfriend, working on getting you cleaned up.
Once James had left the dorm to run you a bath Lily scooped you into her lap, running her hands up and down your thighs but being careful not to touch your sensitive cunt. 
“You did such a good job for us baby,” She cooed, pressing kiss after kiss to the back of your head, “Came nine times, can you believe that?”
“Is Jamie going to be mad that you made me cum more?” You asked in your degenerative head space not wanting to upset your boyfriend.
“Of course not,” Lily squeezed your hips, soothing your woes. “Especially not at you, he might mope around a little bit because he is a man,” She pulled a light giggle out of your lips with that one, “But he’ll get over it, it's just gonna push him to work harder next time when he’s making you feel good.”
“Flower,” James called from the bathroom, “Bath’s ready.”
“Come on baby,” Lily said, easing you up onto your feet, “Let’s get you in the bath and all cleaned up for us alright?”
“Okay,” You yawned, understandably exhausted by the events of the night, “Will you take the bath with me?”
“Of course my pretty girl, not gonna let Jamie join us though, s’my reward for being the best.”
You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement, “Sounds good Lils.”
As she settled you into the bathtub Lily ordered James out before he could step into it with you.
“But-”
“Out!”
“Fine! Fine, I’m going!”
Lily was the stars and James was the sun, and fuck did they know how to make you feel good.
tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts​ @kittykylax​ @amourtentiaa
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myherowritings · 3 years
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PART 5. THE INHERENT EROTICISM OF BUTTONING SOMEONE’S CLOTHES
SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.
PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader
WORD COUNT. 3.0k
GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut
WARNINGS. sexual tension !! and umm sexual frustration ;p, not explicit but prob rated 16+, just read the title of this chapter BAHAHA
A/N. sorry this is coming a little later than planned ! :( but i hope the dressing room scene can make up for it u.u tysm for reading and for all the feedback! enjoy :3 xx sof
SERIES MASTERLIST
© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.
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What were you supposed to wear to a shopping date? you asked yourself. Not that today was a date or anything. Though maybe you sort of wished it were… 
The Naruhata Charity Gala was in a little over a week and Shouto would be coming over to pick you up in less than one hour and you still sat in your room with nothing but a towel on feeling more and more hopeless. 
It was a strange dilemma. He met you in your work apron wearing an unflattering work shirt and work pants. And when you met up over the weekend previously, you never paid too much mind on what you would wear. In fact, you were positive he wouldn’t even care how you looked. So why was it such a big deal to you now? 
Probably because of your recent admission of your growing feelings towards him, you thought crossly. 
In your defense, it wasn’t like it was your fault! Right? Seeing someone everyday… Wanting to see someone everyday… Texting regularly about the most random things, having the most banal objects you saw throughout the day remind you of something Shouto did or said… With all those occurrences it would’ve been practically impossible to not start crushing on him! 
Time passed as you stared at your ceiling blankly. If you kept this up, he was bound to show up in your house and find you half-naked. (Now that you mentioned it, that didn’t sound like the worst idea. But it wasn’t something you’d randomly spring upon someone.)
“Get up, Y/N!” you scolded yourself, rolling off your bed and heading towards your closet. 
In the end, you ended up settling for another variation of your usual go-to outfit and called it a day. It happened to be perfect timing since, by the time you finished getting ready, you got a new message on your phone. 
Shouto: Parked in front of your place
Shouto: Sorry I’m a little early. You can take your time getting ready :)
Y/N: it’s okay i’m ready now!! 
After hitting send, you put your shoes on, gathering your belongings you wanted to bring with you, and headed out the door. Excited to hang out with Shouto again, you walked with a skip in your step down the path until you reached his car. 
“Hi!” You waved through his half-opened, tinted window. To no one’s surprise, his car was a sleek black color with dark, tinted windows, and gold details along the sides. If it didn’t look so oddly sexy you would’ve laughed at how cutely dorky he was for matching his car with his credit card. “This is one hot car.”
He turned his head to the side when you entered the passenger’s seat. “Should I turn the AC higher?” 
“Huh— Oh!” You stifled a giggle when you processed the pun he made. “You’re funny, Shouto.” 
He only looked a little confused. “Thank you.” 
The interior of his car was no less—for lack of better term—sexy than the outside. Leather seats, a large screen for the radio and carplay, and the dashboard and side doors lit up a nice blue color. 
“Pretty!” you complimented, poking at the colorful light.
“Want to pick a color?” 
Your eyes widened. “It can change colors?!” 
Shouto nodded.
“Can it be pink?” you asked intently. 
“Light pink or hot pink?”
“Light.”
He swiftly obliged and with a hit of a touchscreen button, the interior lighting changed from blue to pastel pink. 
“Green!”
It turned green.
“Orange!”
Cue the orange. 
“Purple?” 
Purple. 
Once you were thoroughly satisfied with Shouto showing you the whole color selection (you were almost embarrassed to admit it kept you entertained for a good ten minutes), you settled on a bright turquoise that reminded you of the color of his left eye. 
“Ooh, this color! My favorite,” you said simply, giving him a wide smile. 
A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he developed a sudden interest in adjusting his rearview mirror. “Hm.”
Shouto drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, occasionally asking how your week was outside of work and what type of outfit you wanted to wear so he could have a better idea on where to take you. 
“Did you eat?” he suddenly asked when he hit the next stoplight, one hand holding the wheel and the other resting comfortably on the gear shift. 
His hands looked nice and slender and soft to the touch. Pretty hands, you thought but shook yourself out of it because you could go down a rabbit hole of examining his hands and going into detail about them. 
You remembered the single, measly granola bar you had due to your rush getting ready. “I didn’t really eat yet, no. Did you?”
He shook his head and pulled into a food plaza with lots of stores to choose from. The two of you agreed on a noodle restaurant that apparently had some of the best cold soba (once you learned it was his favorite food, you wanted to be able to have some with him and today was the perfect opportunity to do just that) and promptly headed to the location. 
In the shop, a waiter sat the two of you down at a dimly lit booth with the perfect amount of ambience that if someone were to casually look over, they might even mistake this outing as a date. 
You grinned at the thought. 
“Excited for the soba?” asked Shouto, examining the smile on your face thoughtfully. 
That’s not why you were smiling, but it was close enough. “Mhm. And the udon. You can never go wrong with noodles!” 
Yes, you got both udon and soba. But in your defense, where else would the fun in life be if not in sugary sweets and carbs? 
As the two of you waited for your main dishes, you ate some fish cakes and edamame while talking about the ways in which capitalism could be dismantled. Rather sexy of him, if you did say so yourself. 
Before you knew it, you were done with your meal and headed back into his car to go fancy-people shopping. On the remainder of the ride, you asked yourself what color you should pick that would match well with both you and Shouto. After all, nothing said a cute couple who totally liked each other going on a totally real date to a gala like color-coordinated outfits, right?
He parked in front of a street of buildings with a dark glass reaching from ceiling to floor with security guards at the door. Just standing near it made you feel fancy. 
“This is a place my sister told me she liked,” he said, leading you to the store front with his hand on the small of your back to guide you. “I hope you’ll find something to your liking.”
You tried your best not to pay too much attention to the warmth you felt both on your back and your stomach from the fuzzy feelings that spread. 
“Hello, welcome!” the both of you were greeted as you walked through the doors. The interior of the store was lined with designer dresses, some long, some short, and all incredibly stunning. There were only a few other patrons in the store, but all of them looked so elegant as they tried on their dresses. “It’s so lovely to see you again Mr. Todoroki.”
Shouto nodded subtly. “Hello. This is Y/N, my date to the gala who’ll need your assistance today.”
“Hi!” you chimed in at his cue. “Nice to meet you.” 
The worker smiled and made her way over to you. “And you as well. I’m Masuda and I’ll do my best to make sure you leave the store satisfied with your purchase! Did you have a particular style or perhaps color in mind?”
“Umm,” you said sheepishly, looking around the wide variety of clothings and unsure where to start. “I’m not too sure. It’s my first time going to one of these things so maybe something comfortable, but also still...fancy?” You scratched the back of your neck. “Does that even exist?”
“Of course— Just have to find something that feels comfortable to you.” She told you to hold on one moment as she disappear into the rows of fabric. 
As Masuda collected some starter dresses for you to try on, a customer walked by with bags of clothes in her hands, her gaze lingering on Shouto, though neither of you paid her much mind. 
“In this setting, you look almost fit to be a sugar daddy,” you said jokingly, looking around in awe at the sophisticated yet lavish dresses. “You take all your sugar babies here?”
“Only the ones I really like,” he teased back. His voice was deadpan but there was the telltale hints of a smirk on his face to let you know he was only messing with you.
The door chimed to signal that a customer left and by then Masuda had returned with bundles of fabric draped on her arm. She led you away in a hurry and you hesitantly looked back at Shouto who followed in a safe distance. Seeing your moment of panic, he gave you an encouraging smile that somehow was enough to ease a significant fraction of your nerves. This may be new and confusing territory, but at least he was here to help you through it. 
Masuda set a dressing room up for you—it was one of those rooms in the middle of the store with curtains that reached the ceiling and mirrors all around—and placed a bunch of outfits she thought would suit your taste. It reminded you of when a bride would go wedding dress shopping with their family. When you had enough outfits for the first round, she told Shouto to sit down on a leather seat in front of your dressing room while he waited for you to try the different dresses on. 
In a way, it felt oddly intimate: Shouto sitting just a few feet in front of you as you undressed, only separated by the veil of a curtain. Would he offer to help button the back of your dress up, fingers brushing against your bare skin? The thought made you feel almost hot inside as you changed out of your street clothes and into the first dress. 
Unfortunately for you, this dress had no such difficult buttons to reach. 
“How’s it look?” you asked shyly as you emerged from the dressing room. 
The dress was pretty and didn’t feel uncomfortable to walk in, but there wasn’t any sort of attachment you felt towards it. In other words, it was simply...meh. 
Shouto looked up from his phone to take in the sight of you. He smiled. “You look amazing as always.” 
“You think so?” You spun around and curtseyed jokingly and he chuckled. “I don’t think it’s bad, but I’m not sure if it’s the right one.” 
“We’ll be here until you find the right one you want, then. Take your time, Y/N.” 
His voice was normally on the deeper side, but it sounded even more sensual and gravelly at this very moment. You felt goosebumps on your arms and it wasn’t just because of the sleeveless dress you currently had on. 
“T-Thanks, Shouto,” you murmured, turning around and walking back into the changing room to hide the look on your face. You didn’t even know what kind of look you had on your face, but you knew it was one that might give too much away. 
It wasn’t fair that he had to be so sweet and caring and thoughtful and handsome and rich… Most guys you met barely fit into one of those criteria, let alone all five. (Sure, the last two weren’t necessary in your opinion, but you couldn’t deny they were a nice bonus.) It was too bad you had no clue how he felt about you. 
There were moments where he felt flirty and teasing, like maybe he viewed you in a more-than-friends way. But other times he was so polite and proper and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just being nice because that’s simply the sort of person he was to everyone. 
While you were trying to sort through all your thoughts, you completely forgot to change into a new dress the whole time you were in here. 
You saw a shadow at the floor of the curtain before a voice said, “Y/N? Are you okay in there?” 
Jumping at the sound, you scurried to put the next dress on, a blue one with almost translucent fabric and a delicate neckline. Judging from the proximity of Shouto’s voice and the shadow of his shoes, he was right next to you as you changed. 
“I’m okay!” you managed, hoping you didn’t sound as wobbly as you felt. You held the dress closed at the back, fumbling with the fastens. “I just, ah, needed help buttoning this one up.” 
A light ruffle on the curtain then a pause. “Should I...come in and help?” 
Your eyes widened, not expecting him to actually offer to button it up like you fantasized earlier. You fully thought he might called the worker to aide you just so he wouldn’t risk making you uncomfortable. (Not that he would’ve. At all.) 
“I apologize,” he said somewhat tensely after you didn’t respond. “That was indecent of me—”
“No, no!” you said profusely, poking your head out of the curtain while holding the fabric at the front of your dress to your chest. You tilted your chin to meet his gaze with a determined one of your own. “I’d love your help, Shouto.” 
With a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks, he nodded and entered your dressing room. “This dress is a nice color on you.” His voice was loud against the silence. 
Shouto ran his hand down the length of your spine and then up to unfold the column of buttons on your dress that curved inwards at your movement, his knuckles grazing against your skin like lightning striking water. You jolted at the sudden feeling but he didn’t remove his touch when he felt it.
“Sorry.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. “Was just getting the buttons out.”
“N-No worries!”
His fingers began working on the bottom-most button at your lower back as he applied a steady pressure on the base of your spine to control the motion. Shouto slowly began his way up, fingertips cold to the touch. But you knew that wasn’t the only reason you felt yourself shiver. As he fastened the dainty buttons with immense concentration (much more concentration than was actually needed to fasten buttons, you were sure), you felt the heat of his breath tickling the back of your neck. You almost couldn’t keep yourself from arching your back in a mixture of anticipation and delight at his constant touch. 
When he finished the last button, Shouto let one hand rest on your hip, grasping the fabric between his fingertips to examine its silken texture. Your breath caught in your throat as you stepped back and bumped into his chest, but he was already there to steady you. 
With his arm on your waist and your back leaning against his chest, you made eye contact through the mirror in front of you. You weren’t sure if the pounding you felt was from your heart or his or a combination of both. 
There was something almost erotic about holding each others’ gaze in the mirror after Shouto just helped you dress, the two of you still not letting the other go despite the task being complete. 
“The dress… You look gorgeous,” he said, not taking his eyes off you for one moment. 
You nodded slowly. It did look amazing on you. And it was breathable and soft. (Plus, Shouto liked it, which made you happier than you’d care to admit.) “The only downside would be I need help getting into it.”
“We could get ready together so it’s no issue.” 
“I’d...also need help getting out of it.” 
You held your breath as his eyes darkened, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly in a way that made you curve your back before you remembered you were flush against Shouto and he could feel even the most subtle of movements coming from your body. But by the time you stopped yourself, it was too late. He already felt it and you wanted more.
His voice was hoarse. “I could help you with that too.”
Instead of beginning to unbutton the dress like part of you thought he would, he surprised you by spinning you around to face him, your shoulder blades pressed against the cool glass of the mirror and your palms lingering on the muscles of his warm chest. The contrast of the cold glass and Shouto’s body heat left a shiver down your spine.
“And how do you plan to help take off my dress when you can’t even see the buttons?” you said challengingly, a smirk on your face despite knowing full well your body was showcasing just how affected you were by this situation. By Shouto.
He tilted his head to the side in response to your daring tone, hands swiftly finding their way to your back and unbuttoning the top five buttons. It wasn’t enough to completely expose your breasts, but it was enough to loosen the fabric at the neckline in a way that made you gasp. 
“Seems doable to me,” he commented. 
You tugged him down slightly by the collar of his shirt. “I don’t quite believe you. Maybe you should prove it.” 
A guttural noise sounded from the back of his throat as he cupped your jaw and leaned in closer. You inched forward, eager to meet his lips. But before they could touch, a knock came from the wall next to the curtain, causing the two of you to freeze in your spots, bodies pressed against each other in an intimate flush.
“Hello, Y/N?” said Masuda cheerfully, blissfully ignorant about what was about to happen in a public dressing room in the middle of the store. “How are the dresses coming along? Did you like any?”
“Ah, actually…” you trailed off, exchanging frustrated but amused glances with Shouto. “I think we’ll take this one.”
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a/n: so...mirror sex/sex in a dressing room as a bonus chapter? u.u why yes of course. i’m one step ahead; did u even have to ask? LMAO and hm i wonder if y/n’s fEeLiNGs~ are reciprocated skfkfkdg ALSO THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO KISSING BUT DIDN’T I CRY hopefully the wait will be worth it ;3
what to expect in the next part:
GALA TIMEEEE
yes y/n finally gets the fancy candy they so desired
we get to see shouto’s sexy penthouse
shouto says eat the rich >:c
2K notes · View notes
mbluee · 3 years
Text
Red - Thirteen x Reader
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for @whumptober2021​
No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT…
Taunting | Insults | “Who did this to you?”
Word Count: 4,715
Warnings: blood, lots of blood, injury, near-death(ish), abandonment, so much whump, exhaustion, choking, bit of possessiveness...eek
Summary: The Doctor makes the mistake of leaving you alone, and now she must face the consequences - and so must you. Red is an awful color.
A/N: surprise! i’m doing pieces of whumptober and told no one! yes i do have a schedule!! hahahaa. hahaha. ha. you all know i can’t resist a “who did this to you?’ feat. a pretty blonde time lord. on that note, read it and weep. xoxo
✩✩✩✩
The floor below you is red, and what a pretty shade it is. Deep, glistening, red. Wine stained, rose colored. Red.
Wet, warm.
In a puddle of it beneath you, a puddle of red. How funny. A puddle of a color? Hot, fresh, new. Odd. Pretty, out of context.
Your hands are covered in it, like a paintbrush had been brought across your palms, drawn onto each knuckle. You could see the lines and creases in your skin, each dimple covered in that color. Red. Pools of it in your hands, on your clothes. Oh, not your clothes. What an awful day to wear white. Now it was red, red, all of it, red. Overwhelmingly red.
Surrounding you, red.
Beneath you, red.
The people on the floor are red. They were breathing, once, you think. Not people. Bodies.
Bloody bodies, in pools of blood, beside you, now red.
She said she was coming.
You can’t breathe very well, too caught up in the smell. No one told you blood smells.
Did she leave you behind?
Your feet are entirely numb – they only feel wet. You aren’t wearing shoes, you don’t think; Your socks are drenched. Soaked. White turned red – oh, they’re pink. Pink is a pretty color. Better than red.
She forgot about you.
Your fingertips are wrinkly. Blood was thick. It hung heavy, it weighed down your clothes. Weighed down your heart, submerged your mind. You were under the blood like you were underwater.
She left you alone.
You swallow, your mouth feels full of red. No, not red. Blood.
“She left me alone,” You think you say, but it doesn’t sound like your voice. It’s shattered, garbled. Bloody. Was that you?
Did she leave you alone?
In the sea of red comes lilac. A coat, whipping about the destructive battlefield, contrasting so sharply with the darkness of it that you almost have to close your eyes; Something tells you not to. That color, that presence. The vibrancy of it. Familiar. Safe. Home. You don't process ever saying her name, but when that bright figure whips around to face your crumpled body, you realize that you must have. A plea, a calling.
She said she'd protect you.
There was so much blood.
Her fuzzy figure breaks into a jog, boots thudding quickly across the rivers of red below. Red footprints left in their wake. It makes you sick, and your body aches; It burns red.
The Doctor kneels when she’s close enough. You want to move closer to her, to be comforted by her. She looks warm until you look to her eyes.
"What's wrong? Is this your blood?" She's demanding, her voice dark. Not light, not by any means. The color of blood, of destruction, of a deep and brewing storm. Her eyes weren't red, but they might as well have been. She says your name. A hand to your cheek.
"Who did this to you?"
Voice darker, growing bolder. Angrier. Her hand is hard against your skin, and you whimper involuntarily. You need her to be your home, and she was becoming someone you didn't recognize. The rainbows of her personality were replaced by thunder and malice. It scares you.
You startle.
She scares you.
And she stops.
It must be in your eyes, you think, or the way you flinch back at her sharpness and the cut of her touch. Usually so soft, suddenly so tight. You can’t understand it in this state of panic – maybe you would later – but right now it’s unbearable, and you just need her. Not whoever this was. Her.
“I’m sorry,” She says – guilty, regretful. Her hand softens just before it pulls away, and no, no – come back, you need her back, need that softness she just teased you with – and you reach up to grab her only to cry out in pain.
“No, no-“ The Doctor strains, falling to a pile beside you and ruining her clothes. Her knees stained red, palms turned wet. When she swipes the hair from your face, blood is left behind from the floor. You don’t care. You need her.
“I need you,” You say, without thought, automatic. It still isn’t your voice.
“I’m here.”
Her eyes are kind. Not red. Not dark, not hidden with something terrifying like before. Transparent, compassionate, home.
There she was. Your Doctor. Yours.
“Doctor,” You plead, and it is your voice – more than it was before. Bubbly, covered in stress and intensity, but it was yours again. She was yours again. “I can’t move.”
Her hands come to your side only for you to gasp in shock. It burns, sending a jolting snap through you as if her fingers shocked a painful current of electricity through your broken body, and it hurts more than it should because her hands should never cause you such pain. But it burned, and you didn’t want it to, and that fact hurt so bad that you crumble before her. The Doctor’s touch was always safe. She was safe.
But she left you alone.
And just as much as it hurts you, it burns straight through the Time Lord before you. The whirr of her sonic is all you can process through the blinding pain, and she looks at you as though her whole world is falling apart.
There’s a quick and final buzz, the flick of her wrist, and an analysis of results.
“Broken ribs. No open wounds. Oh, sweetheart-“
She catches herself, but still stares at you. Your eyes are weak and blurry when they meet her figure, but she’s so pretty against the backdrop of battle and blood, and she calls you such sweet things. Her clothes are ruined, her shoes red, and you whine without meaning to. Pathetic, maybe, but all it does is light a furious fire inside of her that you can’t quite see.
Behind that worried and gentle gaze was an impending hurricane; Eyes of lightning, steps of thunder. The Doctor pushed back that anger for your sake.
You were crumpled on the bloodied floor, and she had been ready to ravage galaxies to find you.
“I’m okay,” You tell her, trying to reassure the worried edge that covered her face with lines and regret. Your hand lifts, however slow, to touch her cheek. You’re lying to her. She knows. Your fingertips leave behind a bloody smear, and it only makes your tears fall faster – proves your false reassurance. “You’re here.”
She hushes you, leans into your desperate fingertips. You need to feel her, she needs to feel you. It’s unspoken.
You’re alive.
You found me.
“You’re here,” You repeat quietly, broken. “Don’t… Don’t leave me again. I can’t-“
“I won’t. No, never. Couldn’t.”
Each word is punctuated with a touch to your arm, your shoulder, your cheek. She leans forward, kisses your forehead so gently you must see stars. No – galaxies. Not just red. Rainbow.
“We need to move now. I’ll take you home.”
Home. When would she learn?
With her hand to your cheek and her lips to your skin, you were already there.
“Alright, then. Let’s get going. Can you do that for me?”
You could do anything for her, now that she was here. You almost forget about the blood, and so does she.
The Doctor begins pulling you to a stand.
“Slowly, now. That’s good, you’re-“
The words stop in her throat, eyes suddenly flickering down.
The Doctor freezes.
Along your neck are fingerprints. Crescent shaped marks in your skin from filthy nails, purples and blues mixing to ruin your perfect skin. Bruises. Indents. Clashing with your delicacy.
Someone touched you.
Someone who obviously didn’t know who the Doctor was, who didn’t know precisely what she was capable of. Someone who wrapped their fingers around your throat; Someone who left ugly, long-lasting marks. Someone who has just made a very, very bad enemy.
Someone who hurt you.
And her eyes go black.
“Who…” She’s straining, resisting. Body nearly shaking with the rage that suddenly ignites her, softness receding but trying desperately to keep it in place for you. You deserved that. She’d give it to you. “Who did this?”
Her fingers touch your jawline, so carefully trailing to your neck. You flinch back. Why did you do that? It’s her. Yet when The Doctor’s fingertips brush a certain spot on your skin, you cry out and drop your head against her chest before you. It hurts. You know it wasn’t her, but it hurts.
“Tell me,” She says then, tense. Withholding. She speaks through her teeth and forces herself to stay level, though you can feel her heartbeats echo rapidly in her chest. Her fingers are purposely careful against your wounds, yet you can’t help a sob when the memory returns.
His hands had covered your throat, squeezed your windpipe while you tried to scream. It was her name that came from your shrieking lungs, you think, before waking up on a blood covered floor. You needed her. She’d left you alone.
One of her hands is placed on the warmth of your cheek, the other now pressing your face into her chest. Her shirt is wet. No, wait – You were crying. Those were tears, on her shirt, making it wet. Your tears.
“Oh, no,” You say tiredly, mixed with sobs, muffled against her. “I’m sorry.”
You’re slightly delirious; Pained and needy. Her thumb grazes your cheekbone when she pulls you back, sliding across your face gently, keeping you grounded and perhaps doing the same for herself when she looks into your eyes.
“No, not sorry. Never sorry. What are you sorry for?”
You sniff again, louder, and collapse back into her chest. It’s safe there, hidden, and listening to heartbeats was steady in contrast to the terror around you.
“I’m ruining your clothes.”
The darkness in her subsides slightly, looking down at her shirt, looking down at you tucked into her.
“You…” She starts, head tilting almost in confusion before shaking it with a blink. “My clothes?”
“Yeah,” You sigh. Defeated, exhausted. You pull your head back up, straining with how heavy you feel. Your eyes are glued to the mesh of wet drops and splotches on her chest. “Messed it up. I like that shirt.”
“Do you now?” The Doctor responds softly, that sharp edge dissipating, being pushed back for another moment. Simply soft, now. Hard when she needs to be. Never hard with you.
She smiles slightly, just a tiny bit. It’s enough to brighten an entire galaxy.
“Yeah,” You tell her again. “Yeah, nice color.”
“Ah,” She settles on, smile growing. Oh, you liked that. You wanted more of that. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head over. Have got a closet full of them, and it’s certainly bigger on the inside.”
She brings a palm to your cheek, soft as can be. “Besides, you worry about the silliest things.”
You lean into her. She’s still crouched down beside you, knees on the red floor. Red floor. The feeling of dried blood covering your hands returns, and you wished you hadn’t looked down, wished you’d stayed in that moment with her and that beautiful smile. The tears on her shirt were nothing compared to the blood on her boots. You’d clean them, you think. When you got back. And you’d do laundry. Simple, soft, kind, for her. You’d erase this, rid yourself of red.
You hate red.
“Up we go,” The Doctor announces, interrupting your single-colored thoughts and filling them with iridescence. She comes to your side, slides her arm behind your shoulder blades. You lean the rest of your weight into her when she lifts your fragile form, but it still burns, and you still cry out.
The Doctor stays silent, jaw held tight. When she catches a side glance to your crumpled expression, it seems as though she’s going to say something, but she doesn’t.; It’s as though she can’t bear to speak. The hot tears that slide down your freezing face gather at your chin and drop to the red ground. Stop, no. Not red. Bloody. So bloody.
As you move forward, your eyes stay on that blood. It trails across the floor like a devilish painting, like a swift masterpiece made entirely of misery, and you feel suddenly sick. Dizzy. The red room is spinning, and the Doctor tries her best to keep you still. Her tight jaw loosens. If not for anything, just for you.
“Stick with me, alright? Got a ways to go, and I need you present. Let me get you safe.”
But you left me.
It isn’t until she stops, halts both of your moving bodies, that you realize you’d said that aloud. Your one hand is clutching to the fabric on her back. Blue. Such a lovely color.
The Doctor pauses and stares at you, taking the time to think before she speaks. Her face is furrowed, though her eyebrows have slightly risen, eyes scanning over you and looking between yours. Searching you and searching for her words. You’d never known the Doctor to do that.
There’s silence for a moment, a long second of contemplation and pain on both of your parts. Her eyes are reflective as her body stays still. You might’ve mistaken her for a statue, a paragon of grief and yearning, and something else you’re all too afraid to place. She’s as still as the dead that rest on the floor.
“I know,” She murmurs. Simple and with finality. “I know.”
You stare at her, the two of you stuck in red. The blood is tacky beneath your feet. The bodies lay limp, you stand still.
“And I’ll spend the rest of my existence vowing to never do it again.”
Your next breath is shaky. The depth of her words are deeper than the shade of blood staining your world, yet it suddenly feels blue.
“Thank you,” You tell her, because you’ve no idea of what else could suffice. Nothing could, but it’s enough for now.
The Doctor adjusts her hold, bringing her hand down from your shoulder to support your waist instead. She simply looks at you. And that’s enough, too.
Your side is melded into her hold even as you clench through the pain, not caring in the slightest because that pressure reminded you she was here. It was all red, before, but now it was blue, and lilac, and blonde; There was a rainbow on her shirt and the brightest stars in her eyes. When you’d meet her gaze, she’d smile comfortingly, like home, or a window of escape and peace. The blackhole of anger within the Doctor would dissipate slightly.
“Almost back! We’ll turn a corner there, then straight down. TARDIS is hidden in a perfectly-sized closet. Convenient, isn’t it? All spaceships seem to have TARDIS sized closets.”
You trudge forward and focus on her words, calmer than the sea of vicious pain coursing through your poor body. How did it ever get this bad? Tear stained cheeks accompanied only by grief and shock. Had it all hit you, yet? The pain was stark, but the memories were blurry. You remembered them as though it was someone else.
It had been a blast, a bang, a number of rapid shots as bright red beams of light shot through the walls. Silver weapons firing into bodies, causing casualties, missing only you. How had they missed you? Bodies strewn across the floor accompanied by your own, curled up in a ball pathetically and pitifully. What could you do? Could you have saved them, all of them? Could you have been the Doctor?
You tried. Forced yourself up from the floor as it first became bloody, faced the men who burst into the complex and reigned hell upon it’s occupants. You spoke with authority and you spoke like she would. You were the Doctor, you tried to be. And it hadn’t been enough.
“Alright there?” The Doctor asks, and she already knows the answer, but she asks anyway. Maybe a piece of her hopes it’s something it isn’t. When her eyes linger on your neck again, you have to shut your eyes and block the memory. How long did bruises last? Would the divots of fingernails leave scars?
Her hand raises, slowly, you feel it. She places it on your neck and tightens her hold on your waist as best she can without hurting you. It didn’t matter, because everything hurt. She just didn’t want it to be because of her.
“It’s foolish, really,” The Doctor says, suddenly sharp. Your eyes snap open in confusion, but her eyes remain kind as she looks to you. You blink twice and open your mouth to question her, but when she looks back down to your neck, her gaze eclipses into pure, unaltered darkness, and the words stop in your throat. “Did they think they would get away with this?”
You stare at her, her eyes still locked on the damage to your throat, and she doesn’t move an inch. Stopped in this less bloody hallway, the landscape of your pain physically behind you yet still leaving an underlying imprint. You blink, swallow.
“Away with what?”
Her eyes rise slowly, dragging across your injuries, up the span of your open neck with catastrophic analysis. She notes every detail, every prick and every discoloration, and finally reaches your eyes. They’re ruinous. Possessive.
“Laying their hands on you.”
Your lungs constrict suddenly with a tight hitch and the widening of your eyes. You think your heartrate spikes, or maybe it completely stops, or maybe it flies out of your chest. She continues to stare, and you continue to freeze under her glacial expression. There’s a warmth in the hand that wraps protectively around you, so contrasting to her forbidding eyes, so much so that you almost flinch. But you stay still, trying and failing to breathe, and waiting for her next move without knowing what to do with yourself.
She shifts. The hand on your neck comes up, thumb against the front of your chin, fingers beneath your jaw, and she tilts your head to the side in order to scan you further. Her head leans forward slightly in what you assume is a way to find any other points of impact upon your skin, but it only puts her closer to you, warmer against you, breaths on your bruised neck. You freeze entirely, not even taking the time to breathe. What was she doing?
Then she leans in. You can smell her, then, the comfort and warmth and kindness of her entire being overwhelming your senses and replacing the stale stench of blood. Your palms are wet with sweat and that devastatingly red liquid when she moves even closer, and her dark eyes glow. Really, actually, glow.
You feel an exhale against your neck before she presses her lips to that specific spot, and you gasp with a flinch. Her hand on your waist tightens once, a reassurance, and your body feels suddenly light. It’s that feeling when you first wake up after a good night’s sleep, or when you climb into a bath set at the most perfect temperature. It comes from her kiss against your skin. Igniting like a steady fire, a bright glow emitting from where she made contact, and you feel completely light once more just before the feeling dissipates. It’s rejuvenating, or fulfilling. It’s… Regenerative.
You push her away, even with weak arms, and you watch as her glowing yellow eyes recede back to their almost normal hazel. They’re abnormally grave, with an extra feign of confusion. Your hands remain on her upper arms and she keeps her body close to yours.
“Doctor, you shouldn’t have done that,” You almost snap, feeling much more alive what with the very risky regenerative energy that just coursed through you without your permission – without her better judgement. The Doctor shifts, looking between your eyes as if she never even heard you, before something with finality sets into them.
“You’re going back to the TARDIS.”
She steps forward, almost crowding you, hand still supportive on your waist in a now tighter grip. Her head tilts and leans purposely into your space, and when her eyes flicker down to your neck once more, you freeze, and she notices. Her gaze is ruinous when it returns to your own. Protective. No, more than that. Possessive.
“And before that, you’re going to tell me who did this to you.”
You scoff, blinking rapidly in complete shock at her near – no, complete – arrogance, and that twinge of something else you’d very much like to ignore during this inopportune moment. Yet you can’t help but admire her, in some strange way, even through the shock of her slightly pointed words.
You’d be lying if you didn’t admit she was a sight to behold. Emotions that had never been previously directed at you were now in the forefront of her analyzing view, and in the same way that your previous moments were tainted red, her current thoughts seemed to be covered in it. Her words were precise, sharp – not cutting into you, rather – cutting into the idea of anyone ever laying a hand on what was hers. What was hers.
It should scare you.
Up close and personal with the infamous Oncoming Storm, the same hurricane that just pressed a glowing kiss to your damaged skin. So quick to switch between holding the most immense amount of compassion for you, and then lacking any sliver of it for those who even dreamed of harming you.
It should scare you.
But look at her. Rainbow in a stripe across her chest, royal blue fabric clashing with the disgusting and tired red surrounding the two of you. Her boots are perfect for running, her pants held up by bright yellow suspenders, and her smile is like the sweetest sunshine on a particularly rainy day. You’d bask in the sunlight when it came.
For now, you’ll stand in this downpour of her and revel in that instead. Two sides of the same wondrous, unpredictable coin that is the Doctor, these two sides you’ve come to…
Oh. That could be saved for another day. Perhaps it’s simply best to ignore that tug of yearning and let her care for you in the best way she knows how. Defending you, acting as a shield – knowing well that you could stand up for yourself, knowing that you’d probably tried – and dealing her own doses of karma to those who deserved it. No, she didn’t simply interfere with time; The Doctor owned it. She could pretend all she wants about being avoidant, about keeping out of history, but you knew. When something hurt the Doctor – no, when something hurt you – there was no stopping her. It was an inevitable thing. A struck nerve turned vicious.
The nerve was struck, the damage done. So here came the storm.
“I don’t know,” You admit honestly, slightly quietly. Did you wish you knew, or did you wish you’d forget all together? Was the fleeting memory better left blurry? Or would the details help you cope with the truth of it all, and the security of now? “I’m not… I don’t know. He was cruel, and disgusting. His teeth were almost brown when he- he-“
You swallow hard, avoiding the Doctor’s gaze. “When he smiled.”
Your eyes can’t bear to raise and see her reaction, but you feel the grip on your waist tighten until you hitch your breath in pain. Only then does it soften, a thumb running over your side in subtle apology even as fire runs through her veins. Anger so hot that it was palpable. You still didn’t need to look at her to know that she was staring down at you, assessing you, mind running with every possible course of what you’d call vengeance and what she’d call retribution.
The words flow out of you now, unable to stop it when the hazy memory bombards all your previously calming senses. It burns in your throat when you speak. You hope she can’t hear the painful strain, or the clench of your teeth, but you know she does. That’s just something she knows. You.
“I tried to be like… like you,” You stress, body fatigued, worried eyes needing the comfort of the Doctor’s gaze; She was safe, though the current blackhole-like-state of her eyes reflected otherwise. “I tried so hard. So you’d be…” You take a shaky breath with your eyes closed, “So you’d be proud of me.”
You laugh, then, a dangerous thing, an almost angry thing. Pitiful, perhaps, was the better word. Embarrassed, maybe. Your head shakes in frustration. At your own failure.
“But I didn’t do it right, or I’m just not cut out for that certain thing, or they just thought I looked too… pathetic,” You ramble, eyes bouncing about the room now, looking at absolutely anything but her. You don’t know the exact expression that she wears. You worry it may be of pity. “I was alone.”
You feel her inhale take a pause, slightly, barely noticeable. A guilty exhale through frowning lips that follows.
You shift again, not acknowledging the pain of your side, or the pain in your heart. Alone. It left scars a lot deeper than the ones on your skin.
“Doctor, I don’t…“ You take a breath even if you know it won’t help. Your vision becomes fuzzy, like seeing through stained glass, and you realize that it’s the gathering of tears.
You swallow. And you look up at her.
“I don’t know why they didn’t just kill me,” You whisper. The tears brimming at the edge of your eyes simply spill at that sentence, at the assertion that you could be dead. Was it ridiculous, then, to complain about what happened? To complain that you had these bruises, because you had the privilege of being alive while others didn’t?
At least you were away from the bodies, now. But they were left alone instead of you.
The Doctor’s hard eyes soften just slightly. They still hold that impending danger, the oncoming storm you’ve come to know, but it’s gentler. Not pity as you had feared, but compassion. Kindness. Understanding. You revel in it, take that sweetness in while it lasted, appreciate the mercifulness.
But your words hurt her. Your words that told the story of fear and misery, words that told the story of when she couldn’t keep you safe as she always, always promised. You knew it hurt; You saw it in the way she didn’t know whether to step closer to you or back away. Because beneath the tender care was worry, and beneath that worry was pain, and beneath that pain was guilt. Guilt that pooled in the irises of her eyes, that tinted the hazel of them a gloomy blue. Guilt at breaking her promise. Guilt at letting someone do this to you.
“I’ll be okay,” You tell her, because what else could you say? It was true, and it seemed good, and with her by your side it was attainable. Beyond that. It was close. She healed your wounds in ways no one ever could, healed your heart even if she broke it. She fixed her mistakes, she made up for her faults – she cared about you. She cared about you.
And she hadn’t meant to leave you.
You knew that, now. You were reassured of it. The red had blinded you, but with her you could see.
“I’ve been worried about the wrong things,” The Doctor concludes, looking down at you in her arms; Her vengeance pushed away, her vibrance returning to the light. “Been so focused on who hurt you, I wasn’t even considering that you’re hurt.”
You just look at her. You know you don’t have to say anything; She’s chastising herself, replacing her actions to better suit your needs.
“Alright,” She continues, a new sweetness in her eyes, a soothing apology to your pains. “Home, then?”
You nod, and she takes a breath, and you take one too.
She hadn’t meant to leave you.
What had she said before?
I’ll spend the rest of my existence vowing to never do it again.
“Yeah, Doctor,” You say softly, and something about it is rainbow. “Home sounds good.”
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midgardianweasley · 3 years
Text
The Royal Ball
The Royal Ball
Loki laufeyson x Fem!reader
Summary: There is an Asgard ball being hosted in the palace, Y/N is yet to find a date to accompany her. She’s disappointed when a certain God doesn’t ask her, however, what happens when he sees someone else getting a little too close for comfort throughout the night?
Warnings: lil bit angsty, self doubt, JEALOUS LOKI, fluffy ending
Word Count: 3.3k
Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!
Requests are open loves <3
Y/F/N - Your Friend’s Name
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It was a beautiful autumn’s day, crisp brown leaves were falling off of the large trees in the courtyard and scattering the cobbled ground. Loki and I had been wandering around for some time now, discussing everything from the books we’ve been reading to the dreams that have come to us in our sleep.
“And then this huge ghost thing was chasing me around the halls! and if that wasn’t weird enough, you popped up-”
“Ah, seeing me in your dreams are we, darling?”  Loki chuckled, taking great pleasure at the fact that he had made an appearance in my subconscious, completely ignoring my distress at being chased by a supernatural being.
“Funny you should say that, right after seeing you, I woke up. The sight must’ve given me quite the scare.” I scoffed, a smile unable to stop itself from making its way onto my face, eyes meeting his, face etched with shock. With a hand to his chest, he spoke again in disbelief.
“You have truly offended me, love. I never knew you had this side to you.”
“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” I winked, nudging his side slightly with my elbow.
“Really? Can you produce illusions?”
“No.”
“Look inside other people’s heads?”
“Well, no, but-”
“Turn yourself into a snake to scare your eight year old brother?”
“I still can’t believe you did that”
“My greatest achievement yet.” He smirked, the memory never failing to amuse him.
His stories always had me in awe of his capabilities, even if it was to give his brother a long-term fear, it was still an incredible talent. Whenever he tells me of his latest adventures or tricks, I always think of how well his title fits him. God of Mischief. Maybe that’s why I liked him much more than what a best friend should, not that I'd ever admit it. Not to him anyway.
We soon found ourselves standing next to one of the windows of the hallway, the crystal clear glass giving a beautiful view of the city of Asgard. From here, you could see the Queen’s gardens, full of flowers in all different colours and types, grass cut to perfection. You could see the families in the town, walking around the different buildings, children playing. It was lovely to watch, seeing everyone enjoy the seasonal weather and the light bounce off of the windows, it was ethereal.
“I never get tired of this.” I sighed, voice only slightly above a whisper
“Tired of what, love?”
“Just, this. This view, this kingdom, it’s incredible.” I looked up at Loki, trying to see if he was seeing the same beauty that I did. He was already looking at me when I met his eyes and upon seeing the way they sparkled, I assumed he did.
“Actually, speaking of the Kingdom, I have something to tell you. There’s-”
Abruptly stopping him from continuing his sentence, voices were heard from the other end of the hallway, though we couldn’t make out the words until they came closer. We gave each other a quick look of confusion before turning to see where the commotion was coming from, hearing the quick and heavy footsteps before being able to put names to the faces.
“Loki! Y/N!” A deep voice bellowed. Was that Thor making all of that noise?
Before I could process any more information, a blur of a pastel pink dress was in my face and hands were placed on my shoulders. I smiled down at the slightly out of breath figure using me as a support stand, it was Y/F/N.
“Wow, Y/F/N, you sound much different than when I spoke to you yesterday, did you drink something funny?” I chuckled, receiving a glare from my friend and a quiet laugh from the God beside me. Thor soon appeared next to Y/F/N, hands on his hips and head thrown back as he tried to compose himself.
“My God, Y/F/N, you run fast.” He pants.
“Care to tell us why you’re both running like madmen through the palace?” Loki speaks, one eyebrow raised in curiosity and what looked a little like concern.
“We..had to..tell you..there’s a ball..next week.” Y/F/N spoke, a bit more stable now, but still in between breaths.
I felt my eyes widen, a ball? I didn’t know Asgard held balls.
“Father is opening up the palace next week to neighbouring kingdoms, in hopes to be closer with them, open Asgard up to more trade opportunities, build relationships and whatnot.” Thor explained, emitting a loud sigh to come from Loki.
“I was just about to tell her, brother. Thank you for interrupting.” He rolled his eyes, half joking, half serious. I reached up and patted his shoulder gently, a small smile on my face.
“Maybe next time Lok” He nodded in response, I didn’t get a chance to comfort him much more before I was being pulled away by Y/F/N. With a small huff of surprise, I gave Loki a glance, silently apologising for our conversation being cut short, receiving a shake of his head in reply, affirming me to not worry about it.
“So.” she begins. “We need to find you a date and a dress. I’m thinking blue. I’m wearing purple so it’s probably best to avoid that one. Hmm. let’s see..oh! I know! we could- Y/N? You listening?” I snapped my head around, not missing the sly smile that was plastered all over my friend’s face.
“Y/F/N, don’t-”
“Loki! He has to be your date. You could wear green and match! If he’s even going to wear green, I'm sure I can get Thor to find out, I assume they’ll get ready together. And black accessories! I have so many ideas.” She clapped her hands, over-excited about the opportunity to plan this evening for us. Except for one minor detail.
“That sounds great, Y/F/N, it sounds wonderful, you’re just missing something.”
“Missing something? Oh, if you mean our hair then i’ve already-”
“No, not our hair. Loki hasn’t asked me, and I doubt he will.” I spoke, the second half coming out more as a whisper, my heart dropping a little at the thought. He’d never really expressed having those kinds of feelings for me and I'd always seen him be close with different girls around the palace, he’ll probably ask one of them.
“He might ask you, you never know what’s around the corner.”
“I guess so, we’ll have to wait and see.”
And that was the last we spoke of it before she went into full planner mode again, while I continued to ponder over all of the thoughts running through my head. I mean, he could ask me, right?
--------------------------
He didn’t.
After talking about it with Y/F/N, I had a glimmer of hope that maybe I was wrong, maybe I hadn’t noticed something that she had, that Loki would approach me and ask me to be his company for the evening.
I spent the next couple of days with him, hoping he would ask me, everytime a pause would appear in conversation, maybe he was finally going to do it. And everytime, a little bit of the hope I had, had fizzled out.
I’d even considered other reasons as to why he hadn’t asked, maybe the King didn’t want him and Thor to have dates so that they could mingle with members of the other kingdoms. Of course that theory had flown right out one of the Palace’s windows when Y/F/N told me that Thor was going to be her date. I was right then, he wasn’t wanting to go with me.
I guess I understood, I’m the best friend, we’d always been that. I think a part of me just thought that maybe he, like me, wanted something a little more. Clearly, I was mistaken.
Y/F/N and I had been getting ready for a while now, our hair was styled to perfection, our dresses were on and both of us were fully accessorized. We were looking at ourselves in the mirror, doing spins and curtseys and gushing over how good the other looked.
“You look amazing tonight, Y/N, really. Loki is missing out.”
“Thank you, and I'm sure his date is beautiful.” I spoke, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress, trying to avoid the subject and the twisting knot in my stomach at the thought of him with someone else all night. “You look incredible! You were right to pick purple, it’s definitely your colour.”
“Y/N’s right, you look gorgeous.” Thor declared, leaning against the doorway sporting a black suit and a dark purple tie, the perfect match with his date’s dress. I could feel my eyes light up when seeing how happy the simple, yet effective comment had made Y/F/N. Rushing over, she engulfed Thor in a hug before leaning up slightly and giving him a peck on the cheek.
“Ah and can’t forget, Y/N, you look stunning tonight.” He gestured to me, arm almost scanning me up and down.
“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” I laughed. “You both head off, I’ll catch up.”
“Are you sure? We don’t mind waiting?” Y/F/N questioned.
“Don’t be silly. You guys go on ahead, I'll meet you there.”
With a nod and a wave, they were off. They really did look like a perfect match tonight. I continued to look at myself in the mirror, fixing any stray hairs, flattening any kinks in my dress. Realistically, I was probably trying to prolong leaving for as long as I could. I was excited, but I was turning up on my own while everyone else had someone, it was a bit nerve-wracking. I still wanted to look my best though.
“Stop trying to convince yourself that you look good, you could literally blow an army of men away by looks alone.” A voice spoke, I spun to see who was speaking, the flash of green was enough to decipher who it was.
“You look lovely tonight, darling.” He grinned, the pet name had set off butterflies in my stomach.
“Thank you. As do you.”
“Well, I did put in an effort, nice to know it’s appreciated.” He joked, a breathy laugh left my lips, entertained by his words.
“Yes, well, I'm sure plenty of others will too.”
“The eyes will never leave me, I'm sure. Unless they’re on you, then I'd be surprised if I get even so much as a glimpse in my direction. Someone is a very lucky guy tonight, that’s for sure.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked, confused by his statement.
“Well, they get to be beside you all evening, it’s a beautiful view.” He winked.
It could’ve been you, I thought. I knew he was joking, however that didn’t stop the fire in me from igniting.
“I could say the same for you, someone is a very lucky girl.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know if she ever thinks otherwise.” Joking, again.
So he had asked someone. Albeit disappointed, I'm happy he’s happy. Though I still wish I was the girl in question, I couldn't stop him if he was interested in someone else. That wasn’t fair.
Giving him a brief nod and a tight lipped smile, I picked up the front of my dress a little bit and made my way out of the room and downstairs to the ball. I could still enjoy myself, the night is young, I've got this.
------------------
“It was crazy! And let me tell you, my dad was so angry with me. He didn’t let me serve Turkey again after that year.” Charlie, a guy that I had met an hour or so ago, finished his story of the Christmas horror he had, allowing me to relax for the first time that evening. Up until now, it had felt like all I’d seen was either happy couples, or stares from across the room. Usually the second and usually Loki. The same Loki who had a girl’s arm linked with his and was looking at him like he held the world in his grasp. I broke the gaze, finding it difficult to look at the pair for any longer, as I turned back to Charlie so he could have my attention again, a lazy smile was present as he took a sip of his wine.
“I don’t blame him, really, it sounds like you started a riot!” I exclaimed, sending us both into a full on belly laugh, thinking back to the story. This continued for another five or so minutes, laughter turning into a low chuckle, as if we were about to be told off for how loud we were being. Just as my hand had reached his arm to help hold me up, saving me from laughing myself into the ground, Loki and his date had made their way over.
“Enjoying ourselves, I hope?” He beamed, taking one look at me before giving his full attention to Charlie.
“Yes, yes we are, thank you. How about the two of you?”
“Ye-”
“It’s been fine, yeah, good. So, what’s your name then?” Loki interrupted, his date having no choice but to leave him to respond instead.
“I’m Charlie Fernsby.” He held his hand out, greeting Loki. A gesture that was very awkwardly not reciprocated as he let his hand fall back to his side before Loki spoke up again.
“Charlie..Charlie, now, isn’t that a girl’s name?”
“Loki!” I scolded, giving him an evil side glance, what was he doing?
“No, no it’s okay. Yeah, it can be used for girls too, but it's common for boys to have the name Charlie.” Polite as ever, he responded. A mischievous look made its way onto the God’s face. Oh no.
“So, I take it your parents wanted a girl?”
“I- I’m sorry?”
“I assume your parents wanted a girl, considering they’ve given you a girl’s name?” I rolled my eyes, this teasing was unnecessary.
“Charlie, let’s go and get a drink.” I tried to tug him away, only to be halted by another sentence leaving my best friend’s mouth.
“It was only a question, I'm sure he doesn’t mind answering, do you Carl?”
“Charlie.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You said-” I tried to interject, but he was quick to stop me
“I know what I said, Y/N, but I'm speaking to him. Let him answer the question.”
Loki’s date was long gone by now, she’d left to speak to another group of people, presumably another few couples, leaving us three to have this discussion, thing, whatever you would think to call it.
“I’m just saying, maybe they would’ve preferred a daughter, seeing as they’ve very obviously made that clear.” He beamed, expecting me to join in and agree with him, I don’t find this funny. At all.
“Can you excuse us, Charlie? Loki, A word.” I pointed to the door, giving him a look implying for him not to test me.
“I’m in trouble. Wish me luck Carlos.”
“Charlie.”
“I know, that’s what I said.”
I pushed him all the way out the door, into the hallway and round the corner so as not to disturb everyone else’s evening. When I’d made sure there was no one else around, I looked up at the Asgardian, my arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, I wasn’t impressed anymore.
“So, are we out here for some hide or seek, or?”
“What the hell was that in there?!” I raised my voice slightly, his need to always make everything a joke wasn’t working this time. He had his night, his date, he didn’t need to come over and insult mine.
“What was what, darling? I was making conversation.”
“You were making fun of him.”
“No, I showed some concern about his parents choices, that’s all. Friendly advice if anything.” He looked a bit more frustrated with me now, as though he was stating the obvious and it was going over my head. I wasn’t having it this time.
“No, Loki. You weren’t and you know you weren’t. You had your date, she was fine, you were fine-”
“Well-”
“Let me finish. Everything was fine. Until you caught sight of me having a friendly conversation with another guy who wasn’t you. But guess what Lok, I’m allowed to do that! I’m an adult, I can speak with whoever I like!” My arms were all over the place now, my frustration was starting to show itself, it seems I had a bit pent up.
I saw his lips move, I heard something, but it was so quiet I couldn't make it out.
“Speak up, Loki. I can’t hear you.”
“I said, if you think he was just being friendly, you’re clearly out of your mind.”
Is he serious?
“Are you- Loki, you have no right to make a judgement on who and how and why I interact with other people. Not that it should matter to you anyway, you’ve spoken to other women before and I've never said a word or tried to stop you. Why does this matter so much?”
Silence.
“No, please, go on, tell me, enlighten me as to why this bothered you so much tonight, because trust me, I'm dying to know, truly.” I was shouting now, I just wanted answers for his behaviour, I didn’t think it would be this difficult.
His hands had made his way into his trouser pockets, eyes looking everywhere before settling on mine. He looked conflicted, I wanted to drop it when I saw his troubled gaze, but I couldn’t go back in there without an explanation.
“Ple-”
“I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, love? That I was so uncomfortable seeing some you get close with some guy that I had to embarrass him in front of you? Something I'm sure my father won’t be so impressed to hear, but there, you’ve got your confession.” His voice had gone much louder than mine, taking me by surprise, so much so that it took me a minute to process what he had said. He liked me?
He turned to leave, I assume because I hadn't said anything for a matter of minutes, but I gently grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards me. I looked up into his eyes again. I was so close that you could see the specs of different colours spotted in them, they were flawless. This view beats the Asgard view anyday.
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. Worried I guess. We’d never spoken of moving past friendship and I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“I’m more than interested, Loki.” I grinned, my smile meeting my eyes, never leaving his.
“Not Chelsey?”
“For the love, it’s Ch-”
I couldn’t say his name, a certain pair of lips had stopped me from doing so. As they molded against mine, my hands went up to tangle themselves in his hair, his hands falling to my waist and pulling me closer, I didn’t even think that could be possible. We pulled away when we needed to catch a breath, foreheads falling against each other, smiles painted on both of our faces.
“I bet I'll be in your dreams again tonight.” He whispered.
“I bet I'll be in yours.”
“Always are, Darling. Always are.”
taglist: @horrorxweasley
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shokobuns · 3 years
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“𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫?”
satoru likes to show off.
PAIRING(S): gojo satoru x f!reader x sukuna ryomen, ex fuck buddy!sukuna ryomen x f!reader, boyfriend!gojo satoru x f!reader
GENRE: smut, college!au, some fluff/humor
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
WARNINGS: smut, threesome (i think), voyeurism, dubcon (for voyeur), masturbation (m) unprotected sex, creampie, overstim, size kink, squirting, mentions of a blowjob, marking, gojo clingy asf in public, mentions of public sex, a lot of praise
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“Oh, sorry— Sukuna?”
The strawberry blonde smirks at you and a familiar sense of uneasiness overcomes your body. Your hand shakes slightly, the liquid content making small sloshes that spill over the cup. He notices this first and grabs your wrist, his much larger hand steadying yours. “No first name basis anymore, Princess?”
You look back down at your feet, memories flooding through your mind of the old nickname that spills from his lips. You don’t miss him, you truly don’t, but you do know that he gets a kick out of your own humiliation and that’s what makes you feel nervous. He’s shameless and it’s impossible to stir a reaction of unpleasantness. And he pushes your buttons whenever he can with no effort.
It all reminds you of the time his cock would be stuffed down your throat nearly every night.
You hate remembering those times, simply because they were filled with undeniable pleasure and it was so easy for him to make you feel good. He helped you take your mind off of a certain white haired bastard during a time of conflicting feelings just by plowing you into his mattress — or into the wall of a bathroom — relentlessly, treating you as if you were just a doll. And he filled you to the brim every time, hot and warm, praising your tight little pussy, squeezing your throat while waves of euphoria crashed into you all at once. The memories make you shudder when they flood for just a moment, but a call of your name reminds you why you got the drink in the first place.
“Bunny! Over here!” he raises his hand, slouching and taking up space on the couch. You sigh because it’s definitely a move to get you to sit in his lap.
“Ah, I see. Have fun, Princess.” Sukuna’s hand pats your back, urging you forward to your boyfriend.
You mumble a quiet ‘Thanks’ before taking your spot on Satoru’s thighs, his arms caging in your body while his head rests in the crook of your neck, placing the occasional kiss. His hands keep a firm grip on your thigh and you lean into his touch like usual as he continues his conversation with Suguru. It’s a natural position for the both of you because one thing you learned about Satoru was that he loved to show off.
He loved to leave shameless marks where everyone can see them, loved to grope you in public, loved to hold you tight anytime he had the chance. And you enjoyed every minute, relishing the feeling of your boyfriend making assertions through acts of affection. He’s needy, clingy even, and there was something appealing about the way he would always display it. He takes pride in the fact he can read you like a book, noting small actions that signified big feelings.
So when a certain blonde haired bastard sat down three feet away from the two of you, chatting away about things you don’t even bother to listen to you, of course he notices how you hide your face into his chest slightly, making yourself seem smaller than you usually were. His fingers lace through yours, not without him taking note of how sweaty your palms are, and his thumb brushes over your hand comfortingly. A soft kiss is planted on top of your head mid conversation and Sukuna thinks it’s funny.
It’s funny how no matter times you’ve come apart under him, you still manage to find someone else, and it’s nothing about wanting your heart and your hand marriage, two things that Satoru wouldn’t hesitate to give you. It’s about how he knew that he was one of the best fucks of your life and as egotistical as it is, there’s some curiosity about if your current boyfriend was able to provide the same quality. Before you were Satoru’s love, you were Sukuna’s favorite plaything.
“You okay, Princess?” he asks, no sign of guilt shown on his face or heard in his tone.
“Princess?” Satoru questions, eyebrows raised, “Do you know him, Bunny?”
You sigh, readjusting your position until your arm is sling around his neck and he holds you almost like a baby in his lap. “Yeah. Had a class with him.”
To Sukuna, the situation went from funny to hilarious. So this is all Satoru would know. It’s not like he has a huge problem with your past relationship being undisclosed, in fact, he understands where the hesitancy comes from, but he’d rather watch everything unfold while you try to keep a straight face. It’s pure entertainment for him, but pure embarrassment for you and that’s exactly what amuses him.
“Seems like you two are friends or something, Baby.” He pouts, waiting for an actual answer. You glare at him, a silent plea for him to drop the topic. “Well, yeah. We had to work together on a few assignments, dumbass.”
“Ah, alright,” he makes a mental note to find out what’s bothering you later and continues on with his conversation with the two other men, observing Sukuna’s line of sight. He makes sure to plant extra kisses and light nibbles on the skin of your shoulder from time to time, each one eliciting small whines. Although he knows that the pink blonde wouldn’t care anyways, it’s an extra precaution and another silent assertion. It’s not the first time he’s interacted with Sukuna before and he has a feeling it wouldn’t be the last either.
-
“Bunny?”
You respond by humming into his chest, breathing in the entirety of his scent, you hand resting on the side of his cheek. His arm wrapped around your body protectively, legs tangled together and his body providing you with warmth. One hand strokes your hair as you adjust your head to look directly into his cerulean eyes which never failed to make you sigh. His lips are pursed together, as if he’s thinking of the right words to say, and you wait patiently for him to speak.
“How do you really know him?” he asks softly, “I won’t get mad, I promise.”
You take a deep breath in, an internal debate brewing in your mind, but you ultimately decide that it’s best to not lie to your own boyfriend. Especially if you wanted to marry him one day. “We were fuck buddies.” you mutter, just loud enough for him to barely hear you.
“Oh?” he smirked, his expression of concern replaced by curiosity, “When?”
“Well- uh,” you stumble over your words, the answer on the tip of your tongue. You’re not sure how he’ll react, but you’re already in too deep and you’ve already decided you wouldn’t lie to him. “We ended it months ago. Nothing to worry about it, plus if you know Sukuna, he’s not really the type to get attached, anyways.”
“That’s true,” he agrees, recalling each time he saw him with a new girl on his arm, “But exactly how many months ago?”
“S-Six.”
“Funny, that’s how long we’ve been dating, isn’t it?” he asks, an idea brewing in his mind.
“There was no overlap, I promise-”
“Don’t worry, Bunny. I know you wouldn’t do that,” he pauses, his mind overflowing with questions as he tries to pick out the next one, “How long?”
“A year.”
“Long time, huh?” he comments, “Did you love him?”
“No! I swear, Toru, I was trying to forget you!”
“Me?”
“Yes, you, dumbass! I was in love with you!”
“Aww, my little bunny had a crush on me.” he teased, kissing the crown of your head.
“Shut up!”
“Don’t worry,” his fingers rub circles into your hip reassuringly, “I had a crush on you, too.”
You smile while he readjusts your position until your back is to his chest with his chin resting on top of your head. His fingers interlace with yours, resting near your face. With one final kiss on your head, you’re just about ready to drift off.
“Does he fuck better than me?”
“Satoru!”
“I’m just asking!”
“No, no he doesn’t,” you close your eyes, before pressing your ass harder to his crotch, “You’re the best I’ve ever had.”
“Really?” he grins, bringing your body closer to his.
“Really.”
-
You weren’t lying.
And this is reaffirmed with every little moan that leaves your lips as he leaves kisses down your body. Satoru knows all of your sweet spots, his tongue swiping your bottom lip and entering your wet cavern, wet kisses down your neck, teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. His mouth latches on your nipple at the same time he shoves his length into your hole so suddenly. You’re already dripping down the sheets, walls fluttering while his thumb circles over your pearl. His mouth leaves you, your body still trembling from the sensation. “Already coming? I just put it in, Bunny.”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, “Feels s’ good, Toru.”
“Yeah?” he replies, his hands holding your waist as he starts driving his cock into you as if you were a doll. His mouth comes back to your breast, licking the little dark nubs before biting down on the soft flesh. You’re lightheaded while your tight cunny barely adjusts to the stretch, his thick cock making your back arch and your nails sink into his shoulder. Your vision is foggy, barely processing the other man sitting in the corner of Satoru’s bedroom.
One thing you notice is that he’s rough today. Of course, he’s always rough, but you’re sure there’ll be more purple blooming all over your body than usual. His hands squeeze the fat of your hips so hard that they’re already becoming sore, but he fills you up in a way that hits every single spot inside of you. Despite how big he is, your little cunny swallows him whole, sucking him in like a vacuum and he groans into your shoulder at the tight feeling. “So perfect for me, aren’t ya?”
“Cumming, Toru,” you whine out, an intense feeling of pleasure forming in your lower belly.
“Then cum. But I’m not stopping.”
You nod, tears spilling from your eyes and flowing down your face as your walls convulse and flutter around his throbbing cock. You’re staring into pools of blue that gaze back at your trembling body in awe and it all makes you feel like you’re floating. He wasn’t lying and you know this for sure because there’s no time to recover, not when he’s still pounding into your cervix like he has something to prove. Your tits jiggle with every thrust into your quivering hole, the headboard violently banging into the wall. It’s not that long until your second orgasm is crashing into you, Satoru’s fingers playing with your little clit. He really isn’t going to stop any time soon.
And finally, even though your eyesight is hazy, you make out the mysterious man in the corner of the room.
Sukuna.
He’s looking at you with dilated pupils, the pink tip of his cock weeping with precum, swiping it with every pump. His hips come up to meet his hand as he focuses on how your tiny pussy takes in Satoru’s cock over and over again. It’s the lewd sobs and squelches that fill up the air of the room and the slick staining the bed that cause him to groan involuntarily. He’s shameless, fucking his fist at the sight of you spread out and your boyfriend is right there. No wonder he’s fucking you like he has something to prove.
You told him that he was the best and, of course, he had to prove it. But not to you.
It doesn’t matter because you love the way he’s fucking you right now. There’s no time for you to rest, only Satoru rhythmically pistoning his cock into your creaming cunny while Sukuna watches closely, observing how your clenching hole takes him in. After using his mouth to litter your breasts with purple bruises, he pins your knees to your chest and his cock somehow reaches even deeper than before. His thrusts become faster and faster, more and more erratic while the sudden change in position makes you squeak. “Bet you love being treated like a fucking doll, huh, Bunny?”
“M-Mhm,” you squeal, unable to form a proper answer, “love it, s’much!”
Skin slaps against skin, another knot forming in your belly. Your clit is pinched between his fingers, making you sob out his name. His lips come down to kiss your open mouth while holding your body flush against him as your cunt gushes and squirts all over his stomach and your thighs. Your walls clamp down at the same time he stills, pumping his hot seed as far into you as he can. You’re milking him for all he’s worth and he lets out soft praises that make you flustered. The sticky mess leaks all over when he pulls out, but he doesn’t leave to get a towel like usual because he’s noticed that the man in the corner of the room is still hard despite the mess on his shirt.
“Bunny?”
“Hmm?” you respond, still taking deep breaths from the intense sex you had just seconds before.
“What do you think of giving your old fuck buddy a ride?”
You purse your lips. For one, you have Satoru’s permission, but one thing about Sukuna’s dick was that it was huge, bigger than your current boyfriend, and you’re not sure if you’d be able to take it again. But there’s a feeling of nostalgia that fills your chest seeing it all over again and you remember all the nights he’s given you before.
“What d’ya say, Princess?”
The old nickname prompts you to walk over, Satoru’s cum still dripping down your inner thigh, and straddle Sukuna’s lap. You steady yourself by holding onto his shoulder, slowly sinking your ruined pussy onto the tip and going down until you’re halfway through his cock. But he’s impatient, immediately gripping your hips and thrusting upwards, forcing you to take the entirety of his length. The stretch burns, it hurts like a bitch, but it only makes the experience even more thrilling.
Your head is thrown back and Satoru comes from behind, kissing your neck reassuringly while Sukuna takes control, fucking your boyfriend’s cum back into your womb. As two large hands guide you up and down his cock, your overstimulated cunny creams around him, tightening in a way that makes it harder for him to move. Satoru’s hands from from behind to play with your tits and it’s all so much, the different sensations coming together while you’re helpless, unable to differentiate who’s who. “You’re always so fucking tight, Princess,” he praises, groaning out as your walls clamp down. “Even after getting fucked by your little boyfriend, huh?”
Your pussy adjusts to his size just like before, a mix of your slick and Satoru’s leftover cum dribbling down Sukuna’s balls. He drives his cock into you with brute force, inconsiderate of the fact you’ve already been treated like a ragdoll. With one more brutal thrust, you’re melting, overcome by a feeling of pure bliss. He spills into you, the warm feeling in your womb making your head dizzy. “Good job, Princess.” he smirks as Satoru carries you off his lap bridal style and sets you gently onto his bed.
You’re just about ready to drift off, unable to make out the conversation of the two men in the room. Once Sukuna leaves with a wave and a ‘Thanks, Princess” you use the last of your energy to pull Satoru back on the bed and hold onto him like a clingy child. “What was that about?”
“Wanted to show that cocky bastard that I was the best.”
You laugh before pressing your lips to his cheek and appreciatively gazing at his pretty face. “But you are the best.”
“I know.” he smirks, returning the favor by bringing you into a wet kiss, “Round two? With just the two of us?”
“It’s round three for me, dumbass.”
“The offer still stands.”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
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smutty-ki113r · 3 years
Text
🎠Laughing Jack🎠|| Carousel
Fluff one-shot x gn!reader— only warning is angst (2.6k)
Inspired by: Melanie Martinez
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After months of endless nagging you finally convinced Laughing Jack to let you visit his amusement park. He had claimed it was too scary and you would get creeped out but you weren’t one to take no for an answer.
Giving you a piece of candy so the trans-dementional trip wouldn’t be too hard on you. Tasting the sour lemon taffy he gave you and making a tense face as the flavor pulled at your taste buds and stuck to your teeth.
Your head getting dizzy as your surroundings warped and his room became red and white vertical stripes. Blinking a couple times as he leaned into your face, “are you alright?”
“I’m fine!” You told him, almost falling back at how close he was. As soon as your perception adjusted you looked for the exit to the tent you were inside. “Onward!” You said excited, marching comedically to the entrance flap.
“This isn’t exactly the safest place”, he called from behind, catching up with ease because his legs were so long. “You need to stay close to me at all times” you smiled at him, it’s not like you were complaining, “got that?”
Giving him a keen nod you stepped out of the grand tent. Squinting at the sky, which was tainted a dusty gray, swirly clouds amber of scattered around in the background. The carnival was beautifully revolting, with littered attractions as far as the eye could see.
The place looked somewhat abandoned, if you get past the faint cries of children, from their souls stored in toys. Rides that once colored a vibrant red had paint chipped, specks of dull metal flaked over the bars.
Game stands broken down and leaning unsteadily, disturbing toys with eyes and limbs missing hanging from the top. It looked like it might fall down at any minute, but you couldn’t help but notice the newer looking boxes of supplies lying around next to the stands.
Fairy lights hung from the tilted signs, decorating the food court. A fresh trail had been made between the rides.
It warmed your heart that he had made subtle efforts to fix the place up, he certainly didn’t think you would notice.
Looking back at his nervous smile, Jack was terrified you would hate the place. You thought all but the opposite, giving him a big grin. Your expression relaxed him, assuring him that you wouldn’t think he was a freak and leave. His whole demeanor shifting, making him more comfortable and even enthusiastic.
Straightening out and giving you jazz hands, “what are you waiting for?” putting one hand on his hip to motion you to the park with the other “lets go have fun!”
Following behind you with a giggle as you approached the carnival games. The ring toss looking somewhat appealing in between the other activities, so you told him you wanted to play.
“Basically you get 5 rings, if you get at least 3 in the pins you win a prize” he explained.
“Alright alright lemme try” you waved him off, snatching the rings and giving one a toss. It missed, you brushed it off. The second one made it in and Jack gave a little cheer, it still wasn’t enough.
Hyperfocusing on the pin in the middle make a soft throw upward, the edge hitting the top of the pin and falling to the side. You gave a groan, calculating your last two throws.
Your forth throw made the pin to the side, and you only had one more try left. Aiming for another pin at the side to release, the ring clanging against it and falling to the floor.
You went to look at Jack with a frown but he wore a happy expression, “you won!” He exclaimed. Confused you turned back, finding the ring you had just tossed around the last pin. You were completely certain you had missed it, racking your mind for an explanation as jack handed you a small purple bunny that was missing an arm.
Realizing that Jack had manipulating the game so you could win, throwing him a knowing glance. He just happened to be looking away, whistling guiltily.
Squeezing the bunny you moved onto the next game, it was ballon dart toss. The stand had pale red and black balloons scattered across a board. Excitement was written all over his face, you cocked an eyebrow in question.
“It’s a two person game!” He said, “whoever pops more balloons wins!”
He handed you four darts and kept four for himself, “you can go first” he motioned with a grin. Pacing the dart in two fingers a couple times before throwing at a balloon. Giving a groan when you missed and waiting for him to go.
Being as skilled as he was he managed to land one in a bullseye. “Oh it’s on” you dared, getting one point yourself. LJ got the second one too, staring at you intensely as you evened out the score.
Giving him a small smile as the dart broke the surface of the balloon with a sharp noise “pop goes the weasel right?” You laughed, referring to his famous song.
He looked at you almost in shock, taken aback by your joke. Shaking himself into reality he broke out in a light blush, a part of him touched, as if you were accepting him for who he was.
Too distracted by your eyes on him to play the game with concentration. Missing the third one with a growl he waited for you to take your turn, which you lost. It was the last point and Jack was a shoe in, so obviously he took the victory.
You were happy for him, passing along a “good job!” as he retrieved the big brown teddy bear that was half his size, and all of yours. It was missing an eye, thin stands of makeshift fur pulled out and a silky red bow around it’s neck.
“Here” he said, dangling it in front of you.
“For me?” You asked, “but you won”, trying to look up at him but the bear blocked most of your view, only letting you see above his nose.
“Just take it” he practically pushed it into you, making you blow out an oof.
Holding it to the side at the torso with one hand you broke out in a grin “thank you for the plushie” you said, hugging him from the side and squeezing his torso “but I want you to be my teddy” you laughed. He looked incredibly flustered, frozen as you broke away.
“You’re big and tall” you tippy toed up to give his shoulder pad feathers a ruffle “and fluffy”
The man looked like he was about to faint so you decided to knock it off, laughing and telling him you wanted to go on the carousel next. Quickly, LJ happily led you too it, skipping in front of you (mostly to hide his blush).
Standing at the controls to cue a round, watching you walk around to find a pretty horse. Given, all of them had dark spots and chipped paint, but they worked all the same. Leaving the bear on another horse and climbing onto a white one that had a yellow saddle, intricate lacy designs patterned on the sides. Royal blue reigns across it’s chest and a lion on a crest.
It was beautiful, and you traced your fingers on the drawing. It must have been stunning, but the weathering of time and agony had gotten to it. A painful reminder of what was, a mere reflection of the chipping away of a joyful being.
Prying away from your thoughts as you felt the vibrations of Jack stepping onto the walkway- with one of his big smiles. Even after everything, he still wore a smile. It made you want to tear up, he really needed all the love he could get.
He was too tall to get on a horse, so he just stood by you. His big hand gracing the golden pole and holding on, watching as you peeked up at him. Even though his eyes were constantly bright he displayed something…deeper. It was a sort of shine, a sparkle if you will, luminosity glazed over in such a way that one can only get lost in its vastness.
The looped music in the background was secondary as you rose up and down with the horse, giving Jack a little smile and thanking him for bringing you here. “I’m having a lot of fun with you” you noted.
“Well of course you are! It’s a carnival” he said with joy.
“No I mean with you” you clarified “you’re pretty great Jack”. This time he didn’t avoid your gaze, his mouth open slightly, not knowing how to react to the sincerity of the compliment.
The ride slowly came to a stop, and you were feeling slightly tingly. Maybe it was the air, or the loss of focus. “How about a roller coaster?” You dared, to which he gave a tense face.
“Those are pretty broken, you’ll probably die riding one and that’s not what we want” he said, stepping off the carousel. “How about some cotton candy instead?”
You nodded your head vigorously, following him in the pursuit for the fairy floss, the bear falling behind forgotten. Passing by more unused rides that had long past rusted and a house of mirrors to get to the food court.
Jack humming happily as he dipped a paper cone into the bowl of revolving fibers of sugar. Whipping up a swirly pink and blue cotton candy and handing it to you with a proud smile.
He went to make another treat until you spoke, “I’m not that hungry so we can share” you proposed. “If you want”
“Are you sure?” He asked, concerned that you didn’t have much appetite. “Do you want some candy or maybe a funnel cake?”
You shook him off, taking a bite out of the cloud-like dessert. It was absolutely delicious, honeyed and saccharine on your tongue in a blend of flavor you had never tasted had before.
Soft as it disintegrated onto your mouth, leaving behind a remanence of something too sweet. Bringing it up to Jack, who was so tall you had to extend your arm fully to get it to his mouth.
He simply laughed at your struggle, taking a bite before giving you a thin smile and taking it from your hand. Sitting down at a bench so that you could both share comfortably.
By the time the candy had finished you noticed little bits of the silky texture stuck on his nose. Painfully stifling a laugh you turned away.
“What’s so funny?” He asked with a genuine smile.
When you didn’t answer his tone changed, “what’s so funny huh?” he sounded a bit angered.
Hiccuping through your laughter you faced him, leaning in real close to his face, enough so that you could feel the heat emanating from it; taking a bite of the pink woven candy on his nose and holding it in your teeth.
His face went red at the sight, embarrassed that he had cotton candy on his nose. Well, that and for a moment he thought you were going to kiss him.
Noticing your hands were all sticky you asked him if there was a sink somewhere. After both of you washed your hands you sat back down at the bench.
The sky was going dark, the poofs of dusty cloud fading in with the night but still managing to remain visible. You heard a whirr as Jack turned on all the rides at the carnival, lighting the whole thing up.
You sat in awe, a mere spectator in the empty yet live amusement park. Admiring the music that added to the ambiance, watching Jack approach you.
“Wanna take a walk?” He asked, but there was something…off. LJ seemed nervous as you got up and walked next to him.
He had been thinking about it for a while now, probably even before he brought you to the carnival. Even though he had washed the gooey candy from his hands they were still sticky, but it was from sweat. Giving you side glances as you paced the trail with him.
Debating to himself whether or not he should do it, if you would hate him for it. Telling himself that he would regret it if he didn’t, but thinking about the potential negative reactions you could give.
Passing the carousel once again as you noticed the usually loud and happy clown was silent, lost in thought as he stared into the distance, his lips forming a tensing line.
Wondering if he was ok, but brining up the topic might make him uneasy. Perhaps you being there at his haunted amusement park was ticking him off, or if you taking that cotton floss off his nose was too much, or if you were pushing your luck, or worse what if you triggered hi-
All thoughts faded from your mind the moment you felt a slow, shaky hand grasp onto yours. You had to look to where he held you because he was so gentile you thought it was the wind. Holding onto you softly enough that it felt like a feather, somehow still creating a little pocket of warmth between you.
A glowing thump of heat pulsing inside your chest, happiness digging into your cells and giving you the confidence to squeeze his hand.
He let out a sharp inhale at the feel, still avoiding your gaze as he relaxed into your touch. Not daring to move his hand too much or he might risk ruining the moment, afraid of hurting you with his claws.
Approaching the Ferris wheel he finally spoke, “this is probably the one ride that won’t break”, not a peep about holding you. “Do you want to go on?”
You finally caught his gaze, absolutely melting at the smile in his eyes. Responding with a ‘yes’ and letting him open the door for you. Sustaining his grip with you as he helped you on, not letting go even after you sat.
The cart wasn’t exactly small, but with a guy the size of Jack it was pretty compacted. It’s not like you minded, the lack of space gave you an excuse to bunch up alongside him. The feathers from his pads tickling your face as you rested on him.
Watching the view as the cart took you higher and higher, it was perfect. The evening set in the rich obscurity of the night, lights of the festival blinking as if they had a life of their own. The bulbs on the stands making z’s as they illuminated the red and white drapes of the far off tents.
Jack held your hand with such care and caress, you gave him a reassuring press to let him know it was ok. He was so enveloped with the passionate act that he squeezed as well. Letting you feel all the dips and curves of his hand. Clutching onto you, as if you might disappear too.
Facing him to cup his cheek with your free hand, caressing him and tucking a stand of hair behind his ear. Trailing your thumb across his skin and feeling him lean into your touch, swearing that between the lines on the pad of your finger there was a tear that you had wiped away.
Getting lost in the breaths you shared as you inched closer to his lips, giving him a second of warmth longer to prove that you weren’t going anywhere.
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soulmate-game · 3 years
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Upon further consideration. Even though it is entirely the wrong ecosystem and I know I already said that Merman!Adrien was born in the coral reefs. But. He totally looks like a betta fish. This guy is colorful and has long, beautiful fins and he totally has little neck fins that pop out when he’s angry (but just make him look even more adorable to everyone else). Like, if the mer-community cared at all about photography, he would still be an underwater model. Does everyone forget the fact that he’s one of the fastest swimmers in the School and definitely a vicious fighter when he needs to be? Yes. Yes they do.
Meanwhile, I don’t know you guys caught my little Easter egg before. But I totally want to make the Gotham Sirens all actual sirens in this AU. Because it works, and it’s funny. So here’s the rundown;
Selina Kyle: I want her based on an iridescent shark— which isn’t a shark, it’s a species of catfish. Which is... maybe partly why I chose it. Because of this, her tail is all her black, but in the right light some of her body is iridescent and shines with soft blues and purples. This isn’t bioluminescence like with a deep sea mermaid, it’s just the color of her skin shifting in the right light like glitter. I say skin, because she doesn’t have scales (iridescent sharks have no scales). So her tail is smooth and slippery. Great for escapes. Being a siren, some of her features are exaggerated even on her fish half. So, her tail fin is more flowy and feathery, almost like a beta fish’s but not nearly as long, and the edges of the tail fin are extra thin, so that they shine and are extra iridescent even in dim lighting. She doesn’t have whiskers, but she does have minor control over her hair. She can control how it floats or falls in order to evoke a certain aesthetic, and the tips of her hair do act as weak sensors. She can’t grab anything with it though, it’s kind of like if you can wiggle your ears. You can move it, but you can’t really... do much with that.
Harley Quinn: totally based off a Mandarinfish/ mandarin dragonet. She has a shorter tail than most mermaids, but it’s much wider and rounder. She has a long torso though, with a decently large, rounded dorsal fin on the middle of her spine. She is very, very colorful. You can tell she is meant to be a siren that captivates immediately, whereas Selina is more of a siren that was meant to allure with mystery. Harley is all bright blues and reds and the occasional dash of pink, supplemented by a few black spots and outlines to bring the other colors into sharper focus. She isn’t fast like Selina, but she is small and agile and very hard to grab ahold of. Her fins are very thin and delicate, but soft and incredibly flexible so they are almost impossible to grab and keep hold of. She is also scaleless like Selina, and her tail naturally produces a mucus that is enhanced by her Siren genes. Instead of being a smelly deterrent, Harley’s natural mucus is actually a quick-acting toxin that can be absorbed by the skin and induces hallucinations. She can control when she does or doesn’t produce it. She still keeps her hair up in pigtails (her hair is mostly blonde, but her fish half does color the tips of each side of her hair so she still has the split blue-and-pink look. Only natural this time). Don’t underestimate her just because she is much more compact in size than a normal siren/mer-person. She has a surprising amount of strength in her upper body to compensate for her lack of easily maneuverable tail.
Poison Ivy: I couldn’t quite decide which species I wanted most, but I knew immediately she had to be an eel mermaid. She’s still very environmentalist and all about protecting the oceans, she will straight up terrify to death anyone she catches dumping in the ocean. Litterbugs, beware. But we’re gonna go with a mix of a dragon moray eel and a snowflake moray. Her main body is dark green, but she has black-and-orange spots down her body and tail. Some look like leaves, others look like skulls. Really, it’s like an ink blot test so it mostly depends on whether or not she’s trying to intimidate the people who see her. Scared people will see skulls, people who are on her good side will usually fondly pick out leaf-patterns (Harley). And she still lives up to the nickname Poison Ivy (humans have this name to her, and she liked it) because she entire body is riddled with different toxins. Like Harley, her body can produce a toxic mucus— but Ivy’s mucus-toxin just makes the victim very drowsy and uncoordinated. Her kiss is also toxic, and is boosted by her Siren powers. Anyone she kisses, as long as she wills it, is temporarily mindlessly in love with her and will work to please her even without her having to say anything. This can be as simple as saving her from a tough situation to... more. Ivy is also the largest of the three infamous Sirens, clocking in at right about ten feet long from head to the tip of her tail, and she is the most physically strong. She suffers a bit in the mobility department purely because of how big her body is, but she is still extremely agile and quick-striking. She often hides amongst kept forests and dense seaweed because she likes plants more than people, but also because her body easily camouflages amongst the similar shapes and colors. Both a captivator and a mysterious beauty in her own right, she has skills that match both Selina and Harley in the Siren department, but it’s tempered by the fact that Ivy is the most quick to attack. Harley enjoys playing with her prey much more, Ivy just does what she needs to be able to get to the violent part. She is picky in her prey, however, in that she really prefers only preying on those who harm the ocean.
General siren information for this AU (or my take on it, anyway). Sirens do have a few common traits that solidify them as one distinct race of Mer-people even with each one usually taking on very different fish-traits. The most well known is a siren’s Charm ability, in which they can use their voice to captivate an audience and perform minor hypnosis. This can be done through both singing and regular speech, as long as their voice is in use and they are putting care into the types of tones they are using. The Charm ability becomes entirely ineffective on other mer-people once they realize that a Siren is not a normal mer-person and even if they don’t know, other mer-people are resistant to the Charm effect. It can only be as potent as social manipulation on other sea dwellers, and cannot make a mermaid or merman do something too far out of their normal character. For humans, knowing they are being Charmed allows them to slowly build up a resistance to the charm’s effect. If they build up enough resistance, then they become effectively immune unless caught off guard. A Charmed human will do almost anything the siren demands, as long as it is not drastic enough to shock the human out of the mind control (i.e telling them to kill a loved one or jump to their death knowingly).
Sirens are largely carnivores, where normal mer-people are omnivores. Some sirens (Ivy) do participate in eating humans, but it is known to be fairly unhealthy (like eating junk food) so it is now done mostly in moderation. Sirens have two sets of teeth, but unlike Deep Sea mermaids, neither set is retractable. The set that is visible is human-like, while behind those human teeth hides a set of needle-like teeth that can slightly extend further out of the gums when necessary for hunting but cannot be completely hidden. These teeth are backward’s curving, like giant snake teeth, and it is notoriously difficult to escape a Siren’s bite.
Sirens, unlike other mer-people, actually do have a need for air and cannot breathe under water. They can hold their breath for hours at a time and speak under water, much like dolphins, but they need to break the surface for air at least once or twice a day. This, of course, leads to more contact with humans.
Sirens are the only mer-people who can develop legs. This happens when they let themselves completely dry out, and if they desire to they can morph their tail into two legs. Their legs will never look human however, as their toes will be webbed and everything below their bellybutton will still be the same colors and pattern as when it is a tail, along with any scales or armor plates they might have remaining. A siren can only maintain this shape for a maximum of forty-eight hours before their skin dries out too much and they start to get dehydrated. Immediately upon contact with water over three inches deep, their legs will begin to re-morph into a tail. Splashing the skin with small amounts of water will only delay dehydration for a maximum of an extra twenty-four hours, as the body consumes water faster than it can be replaced by splashing or small amounts of rain.
That’s what I got :) hope you like it!
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callmecyan · 3 years
Text
First time doing something like this so here we go I guess?
Hermittober Day 1 - Wings
List by @/ink-ghoul
Since I don’t know how to draw I decided to write! I have some headcanons at the end so ye :D
 It was the start of a new season, season 7, saying he was excited wouldn't even be close to describe how he was feeling. Grian was so, so happy and excited, it's like the last season was all a dream he had, a good dream, he couldn't believe it was real. He was here, he's part of hermitcraft, he is a hermit. And it's awesome, just like when Mumbo told him that Xisuma wanted to talk to him, that he got invited there.
 He was so nervous the first season, even when he was at the war, even when he was the one who started it, he was so scared that he could be stepping over a line. But god it was so much fun, and everyone was so nice.
 He was living in the jungle now, with other hermits as his neighbors, Scar, Mumbo, Stress and Iskall. And it was amazing, as much as he had to get used to mining and grinding again, he loved it, he felt like as the season kept going everyone would focus more and more on their own individual big projects, that this beginning was nice, he would see the others quite a lot and they would chat and help each other and it was just amazing.
 Something he found out is that the meetings they would have, that he thought were monthly meetings just so X could see how everyone was doing, were way more frequent at the beginning of the seasons. So everyone could talk about their plans, if they needed help with anything, plan mining sessions together, or even to just chat about anything, and of course for X to check on them. At first he thought it would be a bit awkward since he really didn't really knew much about all the things they had on hermitcraft or even knew anyone besides Mumbo, but they proved him wrong once again, everyone was so nice to him and he even remember the hermits ‘fighting’ to see who would get introduced first, who would show him around etc.
 They decided to meet up where the shopping district would be, he directed himself to the center of the island where he could already hear some of the voices. As he got closer Mumbo and Scar were the first one to notice him and they started waving at him, he wasn't the last one to appear, some people were still missing from the messages he saw on the communicator.
 He placed himself between Mumbo and Scar as he greeted everyone. He could feel Scar looking at him, so he looked up with a questioning look
 ‘'What's up?’’ Scar seemed a bit embarrassed, and he could feel some of the hermits looking at him too.
 ‘‘Uh- just- uh your wings? They- it's not purple anymore?’’ and he finally realised ‘oh’.
 He could feel Mumbo holding a laugh at his side and he could feel himself blushing a bit out of embarrassment, he put a hand on his neck
 ‘‘Yeah, I- uh I kinda forgot to tell you guys this is actually my bad. But my wings change whenever I’m in a new smp, world or somewhere that I wasn't before. You can say they kinda ‘adapt’ themselves into what I’m doing and working on basically, its weird really, not even I understand much of it I just got used to it’’
 ‘‘So’’ - False started, and he could see how the others were curious but probably afraid to ask, maybe scared of offending him accidentally?- ‘‘Do you know why they were purple before? Or you like- you don't know the reasons?’’
 ‘‘Uh it depends really, like how I said most of it I can try and break it down to why they would look like that, but it's never something certain’’ - he was trying to figure out how to explain things in a way that, hopefully, would help the others understand- ‘‘I think they were that purple color so it could look like an Elytra, I mean it was basically the first time I found out and even had contact with one, and I don't know, maybe because i really didn't know any of you guys? So it was kinda the way my wings found to ‘fit in’ I guess? So they would be similar to everyone else?’’ - as he looked at the others he could see how they were thinking about it, probably processing everything he said or trying to understand his explanation.
 ‘‘Knew’’ He heard Xisuma saying, he looked over to the admin and he could tell he was smiling.
 Grian made a confused sound, he heard other hermits laughing a bit and he heard Mumbo saying under his breath ‘‘oh my god’’
 ‘‘You said you didn't know any of us, but you do now. You’re part of the hermits, you are part of the family now’’
 ‘‘Yeah’’ he felt Scar putting a arm over his shoulders and basically giving him a side hug ‘‘you dont troll someone with a zombie spawner on the first day of the season if you ‘dont know’ them’’
 He couldn't help but laugh ‘‘aw c'mon Scar it was funny, you can't hold that against me the entire season’’.
 He saw Scar putting his other hand under his chin as he pretended like he was considering this possibility ‘‘hmmmm nope! I think i can do that’’
 After that everyone started laughing and the meeting continued, with a lot of them asking about his wings, how they look in other places, and it was fun, it was home, and he's so happy to be part of this family.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some of my headcanons around the wings
Grian - his wings, as said, change depending on where he is. For example if he goes on somewhere his wings already ‘adapted’ themselves then they change to that.
Season 6: light purple wings, similar to the elytra color.
Season 7: parrot wings, the red ones with the yellow and blue details.
Season 8: a very dark blue very similar to black.
Creative worlds: white fluffy wings.
Watchers: he had two pairs of wings, in a darker purple.
Stress - unlike Grian, she can't ‘carry’ the wings outside of Hermitcraft, its a specific thing from Hermitcraft. Like when players have specific skins to specific smps? If that makes sense?
Stress wings are bug themed unlike Grian who has bird ones.
Season 6: dragonfly wins, with very soft light blue and pink.
Season 7: blue morpho butterfly.
Season 8: cicada wings with green and the golden-ish color.
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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years
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The Five Dates (Reid Request)
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Summary: Reader decides that she wants to help Spencer experience the things he missed out on when he was a teenager. 
A/N: I had a couple of people ask for a part 2 to The Five Times so here it is. Originally was gonna leave that fic as a standalone but writer’s block on my other WIPs led to this sequel. I strongly recommend reading the first part before reading this one so that the story-line makes more sense. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool and​ @wishingwellwriting​ for being fantastic betas. They have amazing fics, so if you need another Spencer Reid fix, they can most definitely deliver. Enjoy!
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: None
Word Count: 6.0K
Masterlist
The first date I had with my neighbor, I don’t think it really counted as a date.
Spencer and I were eating dinner at my apartment after he told me the man who tried to attack me was in custody. We were sitting on the couch with the TV on but I didn’t know what was playing since we were talking the whole time.
He told me that he does magic tricks, enjoys ghost stories, and loves to learn. In return, I told him my favorite hobbies, some habits that I can’t get out of, and food that I enjoy cooking. He listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word I said. It was amazing being able to spend time with someone like this. It felt like I’ve known him for years rather than a few months.
“…and that’s probably my worst experience from school,” I finished, recounting the tales of my teenage years. “What about you? Anything you wish you can take back from the early days?”
Spencer suddenly turned away from me and became silent. I looked at him in confusion. Was it something I said? Did I offend him?
“Oh, I—I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” I asked, my voice coming out as a whisper because of how low I spoke.
He quickly shook his head, as if driving away some bad thoughts that plagued his mind. “It’s not you. It’s just that I was a 12-year-old prodigy at a public high school in Vegas. I didn’t have a lot of fun experiences.”
I could hear the sorrow in his words when he told me this. I know how cruel kids could be, especially to someone they considered an outcast. My heart ached for the little boy who went through so much misery at such an early age.
There were a few more seconds of silence before I had a lightbulb moment. “Well, maybe we can change that,” I suggested. “We can do some things that typical teenagers do.” A million ideas immediately came to mind. We can go bowling or ice skating or bike riding.
“I don’t know. I kind of got over that point of my life.”
“Oh.” There was no hiding the sadness in my voice, which made me feel worse. There’s no reason for me to feel dejected over his statement. I shouldn’t be so selfish.
Spencer must have sensed that something was off with me because he quickly tried to correct himself. “It’s not that I don’t want to have these experiences. I just find it embarrassing that I haven’t had them yet, even now.”
“I’m not going to judge you, Spencer. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed with me,” I assured him. I moved my hand towards his as an offer to hold, which he surprisingly took. His hand completely enveloped mine. “Tell me some things that you’ve always wanted to do when you were younger but never got the chance.”
He took a moment to think while I anxiously waited for his response. “I never had the chance to have a sleepover. I had too many responsibilities at the time. I always wanted to go to a festival or a carnival. I also—” he suddenly stopped talking. I noticed his face turning slightly red as he bit his lower lip, his other hand patting against his leg.
“What is it, Spencer?”
“I-uh always wanted to wine and dine a girl, maybe take her to see a play or movie. I wanted to take an evening stroll and just stargaze for a while.” His voice became smaller the more he talked. I hated that he started to feel self-conscious around me but knew that it couldn’t be helped. I was going to change that. I was going to make sure that Spencer Reid experienced teenage fun.
“Anyway, it’s getting late,” he said, removing his hand from mine. “I have to go in tomorrow and I am sure you have an early day as well.”
“Let me put these dishes away and I’ll walk you to the door.” I grabbed our plates and walked to the kitchen, placing them in the sink. My mind was racing with thoughts on what to do for Spencer. When I returned to the living room, he was already by the hallway, grabbing his belongings.
I slowly opened the door for him, watching as he stepped out of the apartment. Before he made it too far, I grabbed the sleeve of his arm, prompting him to turn around. Here goes nothing.
“Spencer Reid, would you like to go on a date with me?” I asked, the pitch of my voice a lot higher than normal. Despite feeling nervous, I made sure to look him in the eye and maintain contact. He stared back at me, mouth agape while his face was turning pink.
“Are you sure?” he questioned, looking down at his feet. Mental note: build up Dr. Reid’s confidence, at least around me.
“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” I answered honestly. I smiled at him when I noticed his lips tugging upwards.
“Yes. I would like to go on a date with you, (Y/N).” The smile on his face was adorable and I was happy to be the cause of it. “Uh m-maybe I could get your number, so that we can talk,” he added.
“Sure.” I took my phone from my pocket before giving it to him. He put in his number, a bit slowly but I wasn’t complaining. I saw it as more time I got to spend with him. Once he handed my phone back, we just stood in front of each other for a while.
Before I lost my resolve, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his cheek. Before either of us could do anything, I muttered a quick “Goodnight Dr. Reid,” and closed the door. My heart thumped erratically as I slid down the door.
“Goodnight (Y/N)” I heard through the block keeping us apart. His footsteps got quieter and quieter until he eventually opened and closed his own door.
At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely infatuated with Spencer Reid.
●●●
The second date I had with Dr. Reid, I was a nervous wreck.
Spencer and I have been texting back and forth these last few days. Luckily, we were both free this weekend, so we planned on going out. I haven’t told him yet where we’re going, much to his dismay. The only hint I gave him was to dress casually.
I’ve done some research and found that there was a food festival happening Saturday afternoon. A lot of local restaurants will have stands and distant establishments will be sending food trucks. Their theme is “Around the World” so we’ll get to explore various cultures. I’m hoping we can learn some new things from the different cuisines that would be showcased.
Saturday came around and I made sure I had everything ready. I wanted our date to go off without a hitch. I wanted this to be one of Spencer’s best experiences.
I heard a knock on my door, causing my heart to pick up a bit. I don’t know why I started to sweat. Sure, I’m going on a date with a good looking and successful man but there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? Right.
I heard another knock, more hesitant this time. I quickly made my way towards my door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Thank the angels I took in that breath because I immediately lost it again at the sight of him. 
Spencer was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Lavender roses and red carnations were a few that I could identify. I think the purple flower might be an orchid. 
He lifted them towards me, a slight tremor in his hands. “These are for you.” 
“They’re lovely Spencer, thank you.” I grabbed the flowers from him, taking in the smell of the blossoms. “I’m going to put these in a vase. I’ll be right back.”
I made my way to the living room to do just that. I grabbed my bag and a jacket before checking myself in the mirror one last time. Happy with my appearance, I returned back to Spencer. I shut the door behind us as we walked towards the elevator.
“You look beautiful, by the way,” Spencer said as we entered the elevator. I can tell he was still nervous, the thrumming of his fingers against one another and the bouncing on his feet a few signs hinting towards his anxious state.
“You look dashing as well. Although I do remember telling you to dress casually, mister,” I said, a small smile appearing on my face at the sight of his own.
Spencer was wearing a dark pair of slacks with a light purple button-down shirt. His hair was slicked and combed back. He was rocking back and forth on his beat-upped chucks and I can see the mismatched socks peeking through. He looked a bit silly, especially considering where we are going, but handsome nonetheless.
“I don’t have casual clothing. Plus I wanted to look good for you.” I could feel my face getting warm because of his words. “By the way, it’s doctor.”
I giggled at his comment, which caused him to laugh as well. We exited the elevator and out of the lobby.
“We’re going to take the subway to our destination,” I informed him. “It should take less than half an hour to get there.”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”
“It’s still a surprise, doctor,” I beamed at him.
Fortunately, we did not experience any delays on the train. We spent the duration of the commute getting to know one another even more. He told me some stories involving outings with his co-workers and I could tell that he really loved each and every one of them. I shared some work stories and funny memories with my colleagues as well.
Once we got to our stop, I grabbed his hand and led us to the festival. It was a 10-minute walk from the exit. I turned to him as soon as I saw our destination within our sights.
“A food and wine festival?” he questioned.
“Yeah, I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when we were talking the other day but I thou—“
“I like it, especially since I’m  spending the day with you.” There goes my heart again, picking up pace as if I ran a marathon. I’m sure he says these things on purpose just to see me flustered.  
Spencer squeezed my hand in his and we explored the grounds. We decided to share a plate from each stall so that we can experience as much as possible. Spencer walked us to the first stall he saw, which showcased food from the Philippines.
“Did you know that Filipino food draws roots from their neighboring Asian nations as well as some Spanish countries?” he stated as we looked at the menu, “It is considered to be a perfect blend of Western and Eastern food. Actually—” he suddenly stopped himself. I looked at him curiously, wondering what caused his interruption.
“Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I want to hear what you have to say. Let’s order something and you can finish telling me.”
He smiled brightly at me and squeezed my hand. After ordering a siopao to share, we sat at a table while he finished telling me facts about Filipino cuisine. As a matter of fact, he told me a lot of information about various cultures and countries as we walked from vendor to vendor.
We tried risotto from an Italian booth, which Spencer said was not as good as his friend’s cooking. We also got carne asada tacos from a Mexican food truck, where I discovered that tomatoes, dragon fruit, and vanilla originated from Mexico. We ate some sake nigiri sushi from a Japanese stand. I found out that Spencer cannot use chopsticks to save his life. I decided to feed him so that he doesn’t accidentally drop our food. We ventured to numerous vendors and had our fill in almost everything that was offered. We even had desserts and some drinks.
By the time Spencer and I made it back to our apartments, we were both stuffed. I was close to going into a food coma and I knew Spencer wasn’t far behind either.
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in my life,” he commented as we stood in front of my door.
“You and me both. I’m sure I gained 10 pounds,” I joked, enjoying the way he laughed at my attempt at being humorous. I still held his hand in mine, not wanting the evening to end, but I knew it had to. We had spent the whole day together and we were tired.
Spencer made the decision for us. He lifted my hand, placed a chaste kiss on my knuckles and wished me sweet dreams before he retreated to his own home.
At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely charmed by Spencer Reid.
●●●
The third date I had with Spencer was ruined, but then fixed.
I was organizing a picnic basket when I received a call from him. I was puzzled as to why he was calling, especially when we’re supposed to meet up in a couple of hours.
“Hey (Y/N)” His voice came out gruff as if he just woke up.
“Hi Spencer, are you okay?” I heard some coughs coming from his end and I immediately became concerned over his well-being
“I don’t think I can go out this afternoon. I’ve been sick these past few days. I was really hoping to get back on my feet by now. I am so sorry.”
Before he could say anything else, because I knew he would in his remorseful state, I interrupted him. “Spencer, it's fine. We’ll raincheck,” I assured him. He tried to thank me, but another set of coughs came over. These sounded worse than the first ones.
Spencer managed to get out a goodbye before hanging up the phone. I contemplated what to do. He sounded so sick and miserable on the phone. He likely has a sore throat, maybe even muscle aches. The idea of him alone and shivering caused a dull pain in me.
I decided that I was going to see this man. I could make him something warm to eat and lend him my thickest blanket. We could even watch a movie together too.
With that in mind, I made some chicken soup and herbal tea. I put the items in containers before placing them in my picnic basket. I grabbed my largest and heaviest blanket, placing it over my shoulder. It wouldn’t fit in the basket, no matter how many times I folded it. Lastly, I grabbed my laptop, so that we can stream movies. Spencer once told me he wasn’t big on technology so I had no idea whether he owned a TV or not.
Once I had all the essential items, I made my way across the hall, knocking on his door. Unsurprisingly, it took a while for him to open the door. I waited a minute or two before he answered and was disheartened by what I saw.
Spencer was pale, well paler than usual, with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.  His under eyes were dark and his nose was so red. He wore a robe over his pajamas. He looked as if he was about to fall over any second now.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyeing the blanket wrapped around me. His voice was slightly slurred and he was leaning on the doorframe to keep himself up.
“Well I figured since I couldn’t take you out on a picnic, I’ll take the picnic to you.”
He looked down at my hands, noticing the basket I was holding.
“You shouldn’t be around me, you’ll get sick.”
“Spencer Reid, you’re worth the cooties. May I please come in?”
He relented, leaving the door open for me to follow. I took in his apartment, appreciating his more vintage style. He had a massive collection of books, some of them in languages I couldn’t even identify.
“You have a miniature bookstore in here,” I commented. I turned towards him, seeing his figure laying down on the couch. 
“I like to read,” he simply said, the words muffled by the couch cushion he was lying on. I went towards him, shrugging off the blanket from me and placing it on top of his lap.
“If you get cold, use this to keep you warm. I’m going to heat up the soup and tea. Try to stay awake for me.”
Spencer nodded his head, bunching up the soft material in his hands. I quickly grabbed the content from the basket and dashed to the kitchen. It took me a few minutes to find where he puts his utensils, but I had everything taken care of in no time. I even found a tray to help me carry the food.
I brought the dishes to him, warning him of the heat. “I hope you like chicken soup and ginger tea. I added some honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.” He thanked me, holding the bowl close to him to keep him warm. I settled myself on the couch next to him, happy that he wasn’t complaining about our proximity.
“I have my laptop with me. We can watch some movies if you want.”
“I’d like that a lot.” We ended up watching The Matrix and Minority Report. Spencer tried his best to stay quiet during the films, but couldn’t help but to comment about certain technicalities and improbabilities. I found his rambling endearing, adding in my own opinions after he finished sharing his thoughts. I had to remind him to not strain his voice when he got on a tangent on how the idea of living in a simulation is not possible. He lost me once he started talking about quantum physics.
Spencer looked at the clock, noticing the late hour. “Are you going to leave?” His voice was low, and I am positive it was not because of his ill state. He was talking with passion and intensity a few moments ago.
“Do you want me to?”
“No. Is that selfish of me?” My heart skipped a beat. Knowing that he wanted me to stay with him gave me feelings I couldn’t quite describe.
“Of course not, Spence. We could have that sleepover you missed out on,” I stated enthusiastically. He stared at me for a moment, and I wondered if I misunderstood the situation. Before I could apologize for my assumption, he started talking.
“That’s the first time you called me Spence.” He’s right. All this time I’ve been addressing him as Spencer or Dr. Reid. “I like it,” he finished.         
“Let me grab my pajamas and some toiletries. I’ll be back before you know it.”
I sprinted to my apartment, changing into my sleepwear and grabbing my necessities before returning to Spencer’s. I am sure I was there and back under five minutes.
Spencer and I continued our evening playing board games. We played some chess (which I lost at) as well as poker (which I also lost at). He showed some card tricks and tried to teach me a basic one. I couldn’t do it as smoothly, but he said that with practice I could become a magician.
I knew the night was coming to an end when he began to yawn every few minutes. Despite saying that he could stay up longer, his body needed to recover.
“You should take my bedroom,” he offered after coming back from the restroom, “You’ll be comfortable there.”
“Absolutely not. Slumber Party rules dictate that we sleep in the same room.” He laughed at my proclamation.
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. Now I’m going to use your bathroom. Do you keep your spare sheets in the closet?”
He nodded drowsily as I made my way to his bathroom. I did my nightly routine and grabbed a blanket from the closet. When I returned to Spencer, he was already dozing off.   
He looked so peaceful at this moment, I’ve never seen such a look on him. I kissed the bridge of his nose and made my way to the armchair.
 I settled myself as comfortably as I can.. Before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard a “Goodnight” coming from his direction. When I peeked to see if he was awake, his eyes were still closed but he had a wide smile on his face.
At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely captivated by Spencer Reid.
●●●
The fourth date I had with Spence, he was in charge.
Spencer told me that he wanted to take me out as a way to show his gratitude. I wanted to tell him that it was unnecessary, but he looked so eager and I didn’t want to take that away. Plus, I was looking forward to whatever he came up with. I know that with Spencer, I am bound to have a good time.
He kept everything a secret for me, which was no surprise considering how our first official date went down. The only thing he told me was to dress nicely, yet comfortably.
My body was pulsating with excitement. I made sure to spend extra time with my makeup. I didn’t want to go overboard, but I definitely wanted to accentuate my features. I chose to wear a maxi skirt with my favorite blouse. I added a few accessories and paired everything with some heels.
I didn’t have to wait long before hearing a knock on the door. He always seems to have impeccable timing. I practically floated towards my door with how happy I was.
Spencer was dressed in black dress pants and a deep blue button-down. The outfit was accompanied with a dark tie and blazer combo. He even had dress shoes on, which came as a surprise since this man loves his chucks.
“You look as handsome as always, Doc.” He smiled at my words. I love that he was more comfortable with my compliments. It seems like we came a long way from him stammering over his words and fidgeting with his hands. Although I must admit that I am going to miss his bashful behavior.
“I got this for you.” He revealed what appeared to be a corsage in his hands, the flowers of the accessory matching the one pinned to his blazer. “Uh- I-I know it is probably a bit um juvenile. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”
“Spence, I love it. And I’ll love it more if you put it on me.”
He beamed at me, taking the corsage out of the casing and carefully securing it on my wrist. He was so gentle and patient while doing the task. Once he was done, we headed down to the lobby.
“I hope you don’t mind that I am driving,” he said as we made our way to what I assumed to be his car, a two-door pale blue Volvo. I was not surprised, this is his exact style.
“As long as you get us to our location in one piece, I don’t mind at all.” He opened my door for me before settling in on the driver’s side.
As Spencer drove, we talked about the antique style of his possessions. He shared that his Mom had a similar taste and he was very close to her when he was younger. I wanted to ask more, elated that he was telling me about his family, but decided to hold back. The way his voice wavered as he was talking showed me that this was a major effort for him. I decided to share some stories about my family and their influence over my own lifestyle.
Time always seems to fly with Spencer because before I knew it we were already parked. Being the chivalrous man that he is, Spencer made sure to open my door for me. He held my hand as we walked to the restaurant. I admired the ambiance of the venue. There was a band playing soft jazz music and lights scattered upon the ceiling. The décor was beautiful and the overall atmosphere was very cozy.
The hostess led us to our seats after Spencer informed her of our reservation. We sat at a corner table, providing us the perfect amount of privacy.
“Have you been here before?” I asked.
“No, I haven’t. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine recommended this place. He said that it was the perfect place to...uh, woo a girl.”
“Well, I am entirely wooed. But that is mostly due to the present company.” He smiled at me, before looking at the menu. I decided to do the same after noticing the pink tint at the tip of his ears. I still got it.
The rest of our dinner went smoothly. We ordered our meals as well as a glass of wine, in which I was informed of the many health benefits that come with drinking a glass of red. I was able to convince Spencer to show me a magic trick using a coin and napkin. He did it multiple times, yet I couldn’t find out how it worked. We talked about music, literature, art and so much more. We were so deep into our conversation that we didn’t notice our food had arrived.
My food smelled amazing and tasted even better. I couldn’t help but ask Spencer for a bite of his. He was willing to share as long as he got a piece of my food as well. We ended up splitting our meals with each other.
After paying for the entire bill, much to my protest, Spencer took my hand and led me out of the restaurant. I thought it would be the end of our night together but was wrong. Spencer said that there was one more surprise for me.
The car ride this time was a bit on the longer side and I wondered where on earth he could be taking us. It wasn’t until I saw a sign that a large smile appeared on my face.
“A drive-in theater?” I excitedly asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed, “I hope you don’t mind watching a scary movie.”
“As long as you don’t mind me holding you when I get scared.”
“Deal.” 
It was not difficult to find a good spot to enjoy the film. I screamed and jumped multiple times for two hours straight, much to Spencer’s amusement. He attempted to distract me by telling me facts about certain aspects of the movie which marginally helped. By the end of the film, I had started to get drowsy due to all the mini shots of adrenaline.
“Did you have fun?” he asked as he drove us home. I could hear the uneasiness in his question. I’m not sure why he was nervous, this was hands down the most fun I ever had on a date.
“Of course, Spence. This had to be the best date I ever went on. Thank you.”
He smiled widely at the road and I made sure to cherish the moment. It was not often that I got to see such a large grin on Spencer’s face. Happiness was such a good look on him. It makes him appear much more lively and handsome.
I closed my eyes, allowing them to rest momentarily. I didn’t expect to be so tired from an outing. The motion of the car driving on smooth pavement was almost like a lullaby that lured me into a light slumber.
I’m not sure how much time has passed before I was lifted into someone’s arms. If it wasn’t for the scent of coffee and cinnamon, I surely would have panicked. I felt the press of warm lips on my forehead and couldn’t stop the sigh that left my mouth. I buried my head deeper into the arms that cradled me.
At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I definitely adored Spencer Reid.
●●●
The fifth date I had with Spencer was unplanned.
Spencer has been going on cases more often recently, so we didn’t have a chance to meet. We’ve been texting one another, even calling if time allows it, but I wanted to see him.
When he told me that he was finally flying back home, I decided to meet him at his job. I considered whether or not this would be crossing boundaries, but chose to accept the consequences of my actions later.
The drive to the building where Spencer works was not as long as I imagined. After receiving a visitor’s pass from the front desk and a vague direction of where to go, I found myself lost on the sixth floor.
“Can I help you sweetheart?” a feminine voice asked me. I turned to see a brightly colored fashionista in front of me. I was in awe of her vibrant attire. “Hun?”
“Oh uh, I’m sorry. I’m—I’m waiting for Spencer Reid to return. Umm, is there a place where I can wait for him?”
She beamed at me, her comforting smile providing me some relief. “The team isn’t coming for another half hour. You can wait in my office if you’d like.”
I nodded my head and followed her, taking in my surroundings. I have never been in such an official building before.
“Here we are,” said the kind stranger, leading me to a room filled with a bunch of monitors and computers. “I’m Penelope by the way. I work with Spencer and friends.”
“I’m (Y/N), Spencer’s neighbor.” I practically saw a lightbulb go over her head as she let out a squeal. Penelope started talking a mile a minute, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. It wasn’t until she saw the bewildered expression on my face that she paused and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that Spencer has spoken about you a few times. I didn’t want to assume initially but I figured who you were earlier. Our resident genius doesn’t get many visitors here.”
My face heated up. I was stuck on the fact that Spencer spoke about me to his colleagues, the people he considers his second family. I wondered what he said. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing, he always seems to catch me at some mortifying moments.
“Anyway,” Penelope continued, “you have to tell me about yourself. Spencer doesn’t share enough details and I promised not to search you up.”
For the next half hour, Penelope and I traded information about ourselves. She told me how she got the job as a technical analyst and some other activities she does outside of work while I told her about my typical routine and favorite pastimes.
Penelope’s phone vibrated and she immediately looked at her screen. “They’re here. Let’s go meet them upfront.”
We walked back to where I came from, standing in front of the elevators. We didn’t have to wait long for the doors to open before I saw a pack of people exiting. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer, he was the tallest in the group.
Spencer was currently looking at his phone, typing something on the screen. He finally brought his head up once he put his cell away and I felt mine vibrate with a notification. Once his eyes landed on me, he pushed past the people he was with and darted towards me.
I opened my arms as he drew me into a tight hug. It is a shame that I have not embraced Spencer more because he gives the best hugs. Everything about him automatically puts me in a tranquil state of mind.
“What are you doing here?” he asked once he put some space between us.
“I wanted to see you. Is that okay?”
“It’s more than okay. I missed you.” That beautiful smile graced his face one more. How is it possible that this man is in my life?
The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Spencer and I away from our bubble. My face heated up as I saw his friends surrounding us.
“Who’s this pretty lady Reid?” asked the muscular man. I looked at all his colleagues, recognizing the blonde as the woman who was at his apartment a couple of months ago. That was when I mistakenly thought she was his girlfriend. She smiled at me, no doubt knowing who I was.
“This is (Y/N), she’s my gi—uh she’s my ummm …” he trailed off, glancing at me. I didn’t notice that we have yet to establish our relationship with one another.
“I’m his neighbor,” I finished. Spencer introduced me to his team before telling me to wait while he gathered his belongings. During his absence, Penelope convinced me to join her for a girl’s night out in the future with the other ladies. I couldn’t say no to the offer, her enthusiasm was seeping through her pores.
When Spencer returned, he grabbed my hand and said his goodbyes while leading us to the elevator. I saw Penelope whisper excitedly to the muscular man that I learned was named Derek, before the doors even got a chance to close.
“My car is here. I can drive us back home,” I informed Spencer.
He nodded his head as we exited the building and made our way to the car. I know that Spencer does not particularly like to discuss his cases, so instead I asked him questions of the places he has been at recently and whether he had the chance to explore. He animatedly told me of a book he purchased that was in a foreign language as well as a vinyl record he got at a music store.
“Can we go to the park?” he suddenly asked. I was a bit confused but decided not to question him.
“Yea, sure.”
The park was not far from where we currently were. After finding a spot and getting out, he took my hand in his once again, leading us down a serene trail. The sound of crickets chirping while the soft wind breezed through us was very relaxing. I looked up at the sky, taking in the tiny visible stars and full moon.
Spencer stopped walking in the middle of the trail, tugging my hand so that I was closer to him. He stared at me as his tongue brushed across his lips.   
“(Y/N)?” His voice had that shy tone once again.
“Yes, Spencer?” He brought his hand up to tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear.
“May I kiss you?”
My heart started racing at his question. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. My voice was stuck in my throat so I nodded my head instead.
Spencer’s hand gently held my cheek as he leaned down towards me. I closed my eyes once his soft lips landed on mine, wrapping my free hand around his neck. He tasted sweet, as I knew he would. I pressed more firmly against him, enjoying the sound of his moan when I swept my tongue across his lower lip. He allowed me to explore his mouth as he did the same to me.
I pulled away after a while to catch my breath. Spencer placed his forehead against mine, breathing heavier than I have ever seen.
“(Y/N)?” he panted out, his voice a lot more confident than it was beforehand.
“Yes, Spencer?”
“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”
I looked into his gentle hazel eyes, embracing all the emotions he was showing me through them. That gorgeous smile adorned his face once more. He looked so beautiful right here.
“I would love to be your girlfriend, Spence.”
I captured his lips this time around, relishing the warmth of his mouth on mine.
At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely in love with Spencer Reid.
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tokyoghoose · 4 years
Text
Wholesome Aone Headcanons
general and relationship
lets you ramble forever like he could listen to you talk forever. He loves your voice and youll never be interrupted by him or feel like hes not interested because hes focused om you with a little smile on his face.
Floral shirts like loose Hawaiian ones and when hes feelinf extra confident he wears it a little unbuttoned
Hates the feeling of jeans
he or his mom cuts his hair because even though its really short he probably likes it a certain way
Really likes the ocean and sea creatures, also likes dinosaurs (i think given the chance, he and tsukki could be good friends!)
has been told he resembles cauliflower and he actually really likes that about himself
lets you paint his nails, his favorite colors on them are black, greens, white, dark purples, and soft/(or if hes feeling playful) neon pinks.
He's lowkey friends with the geese at parks
He likes jazz music a lot
also the type of person who creates like movies in his head based off songs
please sing to him
He really likes animals and animals really like him. Hes super gentle and especially loves cats (if he were to get a pet, it'd be a cat)
Likes film and photography and does it as a hobby. Every once and while he'll buy himself a really cool, antique camera
his favorite pokemon is snorlax
He definitely buys you flowers a lot and learned how to make corsages and other dainty flower stuff to give you.
if you guys go to the park for a date (especially on a nice, quiet afternoon) he usually ends up picking up stray wild flowers and making something
really likes playing with your hands and fingers. He's not much of a hand holder, but when you two are lounging around he'll twiddle with yours
not a good cook lol but he tries! He can make some mean eggs and toast and cereal but hes not very good at meals. He brings you breakfast in bed sometimes
plaid bedsheets. I just get the vibe
he really liked winnie the pooh and its like q comfort series for him. His favorite characters are piglet and pooh
when you two cuddle its not really spooning but when you do spoon, he likes to be the small spoon
has a few stuffed animals here and there, mainly pretty small ones that are kind of sentimental to him. But he really likes cute things and will occasionally get himself a really cool, rare one like an animal you never see made plush
he was a Mohawk kid
when you sit with him on the train it makes his whole day, be it your dating or not. Anything else could be going on and you sitting beside him would make it all better
if you fall asleep on his shoulders, he refuses to move and lets you rest until you start to mumble a bit and start to wake up, then he'll move you to lay down
i imagine you two met or started your friendship/relationship like the video for beautiful brain by mabel ye
he loves hearing about things people are passionate for. Hes very fond of seeing someones face light up
that being said, he has a firm belief that no one is "stupid" because when you have a passion for something and you're given the chance to speak about it, most of the time you're very knowledgeable
He wanted to do gymnastics when he was younger
Thinks alt fashion and subcategories are super cool, especially punk
always ALWAYS cups your face (as much as he can without engulfing it) before kissing you
one time he kept his eyes open during a kiss ans almost burst out laughing, not because you looked funny or anything but because he thought the idea of it was super weird
loves to play with your hair no matter how long or short, or even shaved or bald( he likes drawing patterns if you let him!). He likes different hair textures but will only do it if you're comfortable
he thinks a lot about a future with you and how your relationship will go. He wants to propose in the back booth of a nice restaurant with candles and a tux; he thinks its classic. And domesticity makes him feel really comforted
He's soft, even if its not shown all the time
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Text
Gibbous Chapter 9
Chapter Title: The Thought of Fresh Meat Is Making Me Ill
Summary:  It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.
Pairings: platonic lamp & platonic sleepxiety
Chapter Word-Count: 5503
Warnings:  Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Paranoia, Arguing, Disassociation, Sensory Overload (Yeah this one isn't gonna be a particularly happy one, Virgil Is Spiraling Mentally Big Time)
Previous | Present | Next             AO3 LINK 
Surprise b*tch, bet you thought you saw the last of me! I'm back for my yearly update--this chapter is dedicated to all the lovely comments people have left on previous chapter! Also!! I rewrote a significant amount of Crescent Chapter 3 and added onto Gibbous Chapter 5, the latter you might want to reread as it adds a bit to the opening scene of this chapter.
Chapter title taken from "I know I'm a Wolf" from the Young Heretics!
-
In books, there was always a perfect, logical sense of progression. Stories were generally told in a three-act structure. The setup, the midpoint and the resolution. The beginning of a story established the protagonist to the reader. It gave you details about their personality, their way of living, their wants and desires. Then the protagonist found themselves upended by an inciting incident.
Something that caused their way of living to never again be the same. Tension grew and grew as they sought to come about a way to continue living. Until it reached a climax, one where after which, they either thrived or withered away. In which case, the story ended as the protagonist returned to a new sense of normalcy.
One that would last until the next inciting incident came along to shake up their world once again.
Once one found this pattern, it was hard to ever see stories the same way again. There were certain things to always expect—things you could decipher before the story’s end. Real life, however, wasn’t quite like that.
Or at least this was what Logan had come to find. Sure, in many ways events in life played out like stories. There was an inciting incident, something that arose tension as one sought to solve the dilemma. It just wasn’t as neatly bound together like a story or even a math equation. Life was messy, complicated—it threw in plot twists or details that critics would claim lazy and unbelievable.
Logan was harshly reminded of this in the case of one Virgil Raine. He couldn’t understand—he was doing everything right, remaining patient and giving Virgil a chance to open up to Logan on his own time. Yet the human shied further and further away, all development he made since working at the library immediately erased. Virgil even shut out all notions of spending time outside work without explanation. It’d been weeks at this point with no result despite the attempts of Logan, Patton and even Remy, who was arguably the closet with Virgil.
Perhaps this was something that should be expected. Virgil rarely spoke about his past, but what little he shared, he had to fend mostly for his own from a young age. Whoever hurt Virgil caused him to believe again he couldn't rely on anyone but himself.
Logan was not a particularly violent person. He'd been ignorantly cruel once upon a time, yes, but even back then he wasn't one to have the urge to kill people. The wolfish part of him begged to differ, as always. His instincts howled at him to find that person and tear them limb to limb. Better yet, they demanded he snatch Virgil away and bring him against his will to the pack, to safety. As much as Logan wanted this, logically he knew Virgil might never fully trust Patton or himself ever again despite their good intentions. Illogically, he couldn’t bring himself to do the one thing he swore he’d never do again, even if it was for Virgil's safety.
He pondered this, sitting in front of a mountain of paperwork. It was late, too late for him to still be at the library. He couldn’t bring himself to move from his desk, not until he figured something out. He gnashed sharpened teeth in agitation, gripping his hair with claw-like fingernails. It didn't help that normally this time of the month, his cognitive thinking skills were usually in a different state of being. If he wasn't careful, the cleaning staff might find a wolf rampant in the library the next morning.
His phone rang just then, some meme-related ringtone Roman picked out that he’d found funny. Logan snatched it up and answered it.
“Patton, listen, I will be home soon I am just finishing up—”
“I’m not Patton,” The person on the other line cut in, “It’s me, Remy.”
“Oh,” Logan cleared his throat, thrown off by this revelation, “is something the matter?”
“Yeah, something’s the matter alright,” Remy said, his voice hoarse, “I fucked up big time with Virgil.”
 -
It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.
He supposed it had something to do with how September slipped from his fingers much in the way that his phone slipped from Jerad’s fingers. Falling all the way down, down, down, breaking upon the asphalt below into a million tiny pieces. Tried as he might, the memory haunted him in the waking world as well as his dreams.
 Only, in his dreams, sometimes it was him that fell to the ground. Like a shoddy version of Humpty Dumpty. Remy, Patton and Logan would try to fix him to no avail. They’d always leave, scoffing that it wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t cry or reach out towards them, begging for them to return. He could only lay there, broken and bleeding, watching as they abandoned him. Sometimes Roman showed up to gloat, mocking him for thinking they ever cared for him.
The worst thing about it? He knew it was going to happen in real life. It was only a matter of time. Even Jerad knew this.
“C’mon, you really want to hang out with them and not me, your friend?” Jerad scoffed, “what have they done for you? Have they helped out you when you couldn’t pay rent? Replaced your shitty phone for the best smartphone out there?”
“Well no but—”
“Face it, V-Man, they’re using you. They set you up with a new job, making you beholden to them and it’s sickening! They don’t actually care about you. Once they’ve had their fun jerking you around, they’ll just throw you out with the garbage. And I don’t want you coming to me, bawling like a baby, when it happens!”
As much as Jerad was a jerk, Virgil knew deep down he was right. He’d been so ecstatic at their displays of friendship, he didn’t even stop to consider it was all a façade. Maybe they themselves thought it was real, that they actually cared for him. But eventually they’ll realize the truth. That he’s a loser and nothing more.
Or maybe they already knew the truth and were merely toying with him. Virgil was just a human, mortal through and through. Remy, Patton and Logan were all near-immortal, unkillable save a well-placed piece of silver and a stake of wood in Remy’s case. At least with Jerad, he was honest. He knew Virgil was a loser and made it clear he only hung out with Virgil because it was better than nothing.
Jerad had been nice to Virgil lately—or nice as Jerad could be at least. He’d insisted on occasionally giving Virgil rides to and from work. An offer Virgil couldn’t refuse—no matter how hard his heart thudded against his chest with Jerad’s sharp swerves and his blaring car radio. He taken to asking about Virgil’s day even, asking where he’d been and what he’d been doing. He even took Virgil out to bars and clubs in an attempt to get him to loosen up.
Virgil wanted to tell him he’d rather set himself on fire than willingly enter a noisy nightclub. However every time his lips went to form those words, he found himself saying yes always. So that was how he found himself dissociating in a noisy nightclub, holding onto a pink-colored alcoholic beverage he faked taking a sip from.
A hand knocked jokingly against his forehead. “Yo, Virgin!”
Virgil blinked, his gaze blearily onto Jerad. It was hard to concentrate with all the flashing lights and loud music. He wanted to crawl underneath his beloved purple fleece blanket in his dark, silent bedroom and never leave. But he couldn’t leave just yet. Jerad had been nice to take him along to the club. If he’d asked leave now, he’d get upset. He knew eventually Jerad would get upset at him for something, but he preferred to delay that as long as possible.
“Yeah?” Virgil mumbled, curling his fingers tighter around the alcoholic drink that had been hoisted upon him. Jerad knew he didn’t like alcohol—it was something he ridiculed Virgil about constantly. He always insisted on Virgil drinking, saying he’d stop being a pussy and man up eventually about it.
“Are you high or something? You looked like you were seeing into the third dimension or something.”
Virgil shrugged. Jerad laughed at that, patting him on the back. Virgil tensed from each thud of Jerad’s hand, but he did not flinch or move away. It was a friendly gesture on Jerad’s part. If he wanted to really hurt Virgil, he would’ve put more force behind it.
“Probably not! You’re too much of an anxious wimp,” Jerad said, downing the contents of his drink, “but let me know if you ever get man enough to try it—your good friend Jerad has connections.”
“Okay.” Virgil said, his voice sounding far off in the distance to his own ears.
Jerad laughed again, and then started rambling about something probably among the lines of his most recent hookup, his parents being jerks for not giving him a new sports car or the latest college professor he deemed a complete idiot. Virgil stared at him, nodding all the right moments yet barely processed any of the words being directed his way.
 Even with lungs filled with air and a warm beating heart, Virgil felt nothing. He was nothing. A worthless sentient waste of space. Like an ugly mutt nobody wanted that should be euthanized to end its miserable existence.
His phone—the replacement one Jerad gave him—vibrated in his pocket. A text, no doubt from one of the others. The fourth one this night. Virgil’s hand twitched, refraining from looking at it in the presence of Jerad. Virgil didn’t feel like losing a second phone within a month of the first.
“Um, hey,” Virgil interrupted, wincing, “I gotta go use the bathroom, is that alright?”
“’Is that alright?’” Jerad mimicked in a high pitch tone, “Dude, is this elementary school or something? You want a hall pass? Me to hold your hand the whole way there?”
Virgil stared at him.
Jerad rolled his eyes, “Go ahead, whatever. I don’t care if you take a dump, just be quick with it.”
“Thanks.” Virgil bit out, running off before Jerad could change his mind.
He twisted and pivoted around the crowd of sweaty, glistening bodies wearing skimpy clothing. The bright neon lights and loud music warped around him like something out of a nightmare. Eventually he made it to the restrooms and locked himself in the nearest stall. The pulse of his heart roaring in his ears, he drew the phone of his pocket.
Four New Text Notifications from Patton
Patton: [Image of a black cat that looked approximately a year old. It appeared to be nestled close to Patton’s chest, staring up at the camera in wide-eyed stare.]
Patton: Look at what I found on my evening walk! Isn’t she the cutest??
Patton: I’m trying to convince Logan to let me keep her. Maybe you can come visit tomorrow and meet her??
Patton: It’s ok if not! I know you’ve been busy and I want to let you know I’m here for you, you can come to me about anything okay?
Virgil’s vision blurred a bit. He didn’t understand it. Why hadn’t Patton given up already? It’s been weeks since he’s sent Patton a text. He’d been terrified, too, really. And in the few times he ran into Patton at the library, he made excuses and scurried the other way.
Logan was at least kind enough to exchange a few pleasantries and keep their verbal interactions work-oriented. And Remy? They still delved deep into discussions about their taste in music but there was an awkward unspoken agreement not to bring up what happened that one morning. Virgil also shied from hanging outside of work, hoping Remy would eventually forget about him. It seemed to be working; Remy hadn’t offered to hang out in about a week or so.
But Patton? Patton seemed determined to stay in contact with Virgil, sending his dumb silly memes and cute animal videos. He sent good morning and good night texts, while making sure Virgil knew he could respond to them on his own time. On one hand, it made sense—this was the same Patton who saved a complete stranger’s life for literally no reason. On the other hand, he wished Patton would give up. It would made things easier, make it hurt less for everyone.
His phone buzzed with a new text notification.
Jerad: Dude, did you fall in or something?
Virgil swallowed, wiping away any stupid tears running down his face. As he typed a response to Jerad with shaky hands, the bathroom door slammed open, banging against the wall. He almost dropped his phone in the process, silently cursing at how close he’d been to breaking yet another phone.
Several loud booming voices filled the bathroom, peppered with obnoxious laughter every half second. Virgil shut his eyes, resisting the urge to cover his ears also in the process. The noise was too much. It was too much in the club outside, but all those voices echoing off the small crammed walls of the bathroom made Virgil want to scream.
The door creaked open yet again, the voices venturing away from Virgil. Good, they were leaving so Virgil could finally self-destruct in peace. Or so he thought, as a set of footsteps stopped abruptly, wavering. The club music blasted from the doorway, drowning out whatever discussion took place.
Then the door swung shut, the roaring club music muted once more. Virgil waited, breath catching in his throat as the single set of footsteps took a couple strides towards him. Oh god, this was how he was going to die, wasn’t he? This was probably some serial killer with an obsession of killing people in night club restrooms.
This was, of course, the moment his phone started vibrating in his hand. A call. Someone was calling him in the final moments of his life. Virgil looked down at the caller id; Remy. His heartrate spiked, dancing so painfully close to what a heart attack must feel like. Why was Remy calling him? Was he at last going to tell him he was done with Virgil forever?
Virgil almost wanted to ignore the call. But then he glanced at the black boots hovering near his stall and gave it a second thought. If this was going to be how his life ended, it’d probably be best to say goodbye to someone at least. Sucking a breath in, he pressed the green phone icon and held the phone to his ears.
“Hi?” He whispered.
“Hey Virgil,” Remy said, echoing oddly in Virgil’s ears, “what are you up to tonight?”
Virgil glanced down at the black boots menacingly close to his stall, “Umm, I’m just home, chilling.”
“That’s a lie, Hon. I know you’re hiding in a stall of this bathroom.”
“W-what are you talking about?” Virgil couldn’t breathe.
Remy sighed, sounding so similar to the person outside the stall, “Please, let’s talk face to face, alright?”
This was some sort of trick to lure him out of the stall, wasn’t it? Still, with the hand not clutching tightly to his phone, he reached out and unlatched the stall door.
Remy stood there, expression hidden under his black shades. His hair was slicked back with gel, shimmering with a glitter of some sort. He wore his iconic black leather jacket with a black crop top underneath. His whole outfit was black, in fact, down to his ripped jeans and the ankle-length boots. Virgil had seen him wear something similar before to a college event he’d taken Virgil to.
“W-what are you doing here?” Virgil demanded.
“I could ask you the same,” Remy responded, eyebrows raised above his shades, “this isn’t your scene, Virge. What are you doing here?”
“I’m not answering unless you answer.” Virgil said, trying to ignore how much he sounded like a toddler.
“A few of my homies from the art program wanted to celebrate the end of mid-terms. This is the night club most of the college body hangs at.” Remy crossed his arms.
“And how did you know I was in here?”
“A few keen observations,” Remy mustered a thin smile. He tapped his nose for emphasis before drawing his finger close to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened in understanding. Vampire senses, then. “But mostly, I’d recognize those faded converse of yours anywhere.”
“O-oh.”
“I answered your question, now it’s your turn, Virge.”
“I…” Virgil said, the rest of his words strangled in his throat. His phone buzzed in his hand; another impatient text from Jerad no doubt. He didn’t bother to look at it, choosing to focus on taking a breath in rather than going unconscious from a lack of oxygen.
He could tell Remy the truth. That he’d gone with Jerad—his roommate whom he used to complain to Remy about all the time. But then Remy would ask why he was with Jerad and then—well. Then Virgil would have tell him what happened the time he found him the night his phone broke and well, Virgil wasn’t ready for that. He couldn’t tell Remy about his humiliating mistake.
“I…went here to have a good time completely by myself.” Virgil withheld himself from wincing because wow that didn’t sound weird or suspicious in the slightest, “So you can go catch up with your friends or whatever, I’m good hanging out right here.”
“Right here, in the restroom?”
“Yeah.”
“Honey,” Remy said, his voice washed with some emotion Virgil couldn’t identify, “Let’s ditch this shithole and go somewhere else.”
“W-what—but your friends—” Virgil stammered.
“—will be fine without me. N-G-L they’ll probably too trying to give themselves alcohol poison even realize I’m gone,” Remy shrugged his shoulders, “besides, you don’t seem as gucci as you say you are in here and it’s been a while since we really hung out hung out, y’know?”
Virgil stubbornly directed his gaze away from Remy, jaw tightening. It had to be okay, didn’t it? Jerad was most likely to get too drunk to even coherent colors, let alone that Virgil slipped off without him. Maybe he wouldn’t be mad. Maybe he wouldn’t fly into a rage and come close to hanging him off a balcony. Besides Remy would be even more suspicious if he said no.
Virgil sighed, holding the home button on the phone until it shut off completely. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with Jerad calling him, demanding to know where he’d disappear off to, despite ditching Virgil all the time without warning.
“Alright, fine.”
Remy smiled, his teeth looking a little too sharp for Virgil’s liking. Wordlessly he turned aside and reached for the bathroom door.
Virgil swallowed, shoving the phone in his pocket to be forgotten about. Tried as he might, he still flinched as lively blare of the club’s music and flashing lights greeted him with full force. He froze, cowering before the threshold of the door. A hand landed on his shoulder, soft and gentle.
“Virgil?” Remy asked, his brows furrowing together.
Molten lava settled in the pit of Virgil’s stomach—pity. That was the expression on Remy’s face he couldn’t identify at first. He didn’t want pity; Virgil knew what pity meant. He didn’t want pity of any kind, it reminded him too much of the foster parents that looked at him like he was some feral dog that could be whipped into obedience. And sure, Remy had never hurt him but it didn’t mean Virgil forgotten about that morning spent at Remy’s dorm a month back.
Eyes lit up with a burning, controlled fire. Words hissed through a clenching jaw, “Tell me their name and I’ll beat them up for you.”
If Remy was willing to hurt who he deemed as threats to Virgil, who’s to say he wouldn’t be willing to hurt Virgil? To reprimand Virgil, to let him know how much of an idiot he was being? It sounded absurd, even now, because he’d known Remy for almost a year. Remy had plenty opportunities up to now to do something and hadn’t. Yet he was a vampire; years were nothing to him. He had plenty of time to wait for Virgil to slip up in some way and make his irritation known.
And Virgil knew by now to expect the other shoe to drop in a relationship—it was why he distanced himself, isolated himself to solely to work and his cramped little room at the apartment. He was foolish to believe Remy, Patton and Logan were different. Logan and Patton especially—what was he thinking? Patton saved him, sure, but Logan had been hellbent on locking him in their basement for the eternity of time. Why had ever he allowed himself to accept their apologies, to believe something was going right in his life for once?
“I’m fine.” Virgil snarled, shoving himself forward. It was like marching into a warzone, the music assaulted his ears and rattled uncomfortably against his chest cavity. He grimaced, keeping his eyes towards the floor, away from the flashing lights. He stopped a bit before the ocean of bodies that stood between them and the entrance.
He knew if he looked up, he could make out the back of Jerad’s shirt from his spot at the bar. Stupid, this was so stupid. Why had he allowed himself to get talk into this by Remy? There was no doubt in his mind that Jerad would catch him trying to leave and rightfully demand why he was ditching him for Remy. It was a shit thing to do, after all.
Friends don’t ditch one another without explanation. Jerad left him, sure, but he always had an explanation after the fact. Virgil didn’t think Jerad would like his explanation very much. Especially when it involved Remy, one of the people Jerad had been trying to warn him about.
A hand gracefully looped itself around one of his own, tugging him off to the side rather than through the crowd. Virgil looked to see Remy guiding them towards a set of doors, ones clearly marked for employees only.
“Remy—”
“Shhh, this is a faster way outta here, trust me.” He said, flashing a smile. Perhaps it was meant to be comforting but for Virgil it only caused his stomach to churn.
Right before they made it to the doors, an employee materialized in front of them. “Excuse me, sirs, you’re not allowed back here—”
“Cindy, gurl, remember me, Lansing? Worked here last summer? Do you remember, yeah?” Remy lowered his shades to take a look at her. Virgil peered behind him, unable to view Remy’s face. He could see Cindy’s face, however. Her face pinched up in confusion, frowning, before abruptly smoothening out with a wide grin stretched from ear-to-ear. She looked right at Remy, her gaze shifting entirely off of Virgil as if he no longer existed.
“Lansing, oh! Oh yes, I remember.” Cindy said, with a high-pitched laugh. Virgil shrunk further back into Remy’s shadow, squeezing Remy’s hand tightly. Something was wrong and he didn’t like it. Remy never mentioned working as a bartender—and that wasn’t quite something Remy would be quiet about. Virgil could just  picture the outrageous bartending stories he’d have if that was the case.
Remy laughed along with her, light and airy.
“Good, then can ya do a fellow former co-bartender a favor and let us slip through, just this once?”
“Gurl, of course, just if you caught don’t let Gregory know I was the one that let you pass.” She leaned in conspiratorially, face twitching a bit.
“Oh don’t worry, you won’t see us again, in fact forget that you even saw us. I’d love to stay and catch up, but I bet you have things to do.”
She laughed again at that. “Yes, of course. It was nice seeing you, Lansing, but I have to go.”
Cindy hurried off, quickly dissipating through the crowd. Virgil blinked; what the fuck? What the fuck was that—
He didn’t even have time to process the encounter before Remy led them into the dimly lit back hallway of the nightclub. Whether it was a faster way out of the nightclub was debatable. For all his talk about previously working there, Remy seemed just as lost as Virgil in the winding hallway. He led them one direction, only to immediately pivot down the other way.
Remy wasn’t talking. Remy was always talking endlessly, as if speaking was as vital as oxygen to him. He was terrible at whispering too—something Logan would get on him about at the library. That was why he was usually stuck on front desk duty to speak with patrons, helping out at events or doing organizational work in the back office. For Remy to be this silent, like the brooding calm before a storm, well. Virgil’s lungs wanted to seize up right then and there.
Eventually, they made to a door that opened out to an alleyway, right where the night club kept its dumpster. The moon gleamed from her perch in the sky, nearly full but not quite. Like a cookie with a bite taken out of it. Virgil knew there was terms for the different phases of the moon. His mother loved taking him out to see the night sky. She’d point out the constellations and tell him what phase the moon that night was.
He wished he could remember, for her sake, what they were. Considering he knew actual werewolves, you’d think he pay better attention to it. But it was a topic Virgil never felt brave enough to venture and one that neither Patton nor Logan opened up much on their own about.
He stared at the moon, transfixed, that he almost forgotten the reason he was outside in the first place. Not until Remy murmured something before attempting to lead him off somewhere. The gaping dread from moments prior seized hold of him once more.
“No!” Virgil snapped, yanking his hand out of Remy’s grip. He stumbled backwards a few steps, slamming himself into a wall of the building in the process.
“Virgil?” Remy asked, frowning as he took a step  forward.
“What the hell was that back there?”
“What do you mean—”
“Don’t act stupid!” Virgil demanded, taking a shaky breath, “That lady—Cindy—you did something, I—I don’t know, she was acting weird! And—and you were acting weird! So I’m asking again; What. The Hell. Was. That?”
Remy stared at him, his breath hitching, “Virgil, I was just trying to get you to a quiet place ASAP before you—”
“You’re still not answering the question.” Virgil cut in, his intestines tightening themselves into knots over it. Because maybe this was just a classic case of Virgil paranoia striking again. Maybe he really was driving himself into a panic attack over nothing. Maybe he was accusing Remy unjustly.
Yet, if that was the case why would Remy flinch if Virgil struck him physically with his words?
“Virgil,” Remy said slowly, “I need you not to panic and hear me out, ok?”
Virgil’s heartrate accelerated. Not panic, not panic?! What did Remy expect but for him to panic at those words?
“Okay.” Virgil said, definitely panicking.
“What have you’ve heard about vamps?”
“That they—you drink blood. And your reflection doesn’t show up in mirrors—and—and if you get bitten by a vampire, you’ll either turn into one or get mind controlled.”
“All technically true, well I mean—there’s a fuck-ton more to the turning process than that—” Remy cut himself off, “That’s beside the point. The point is, what you call mind-control, we call ‘enthralling.’ Enthralling is…”
“Is what?”
“Enthralling is, well. It’s a form of hypnosis. Anyone enthralled by a vampire is mostly aware of it and the least likely they are to follow a vampire’s suggestions, the more likely they are to fight against the hypnosis. And it can be activated through eye-contact which is what I did to Cindy.”
Virgil couldn’t breathe. Suddenly pieces were slotted together in mind, forming a picture Virgil never wanted to envision. That faint but visceral memory of Remy with red eyes, the natural charisma Remy held with anyone he met, how Remy managed to steal confidential information from Virgil’s employee file in the back office of Kirby’s Burgers—all of it. He thought Remy, out of anybody, was safe. Past his sassy, laidback exterior, Remy was honest, willing to speak his mind about anything and everything.
If Remy enthralled a complete stranger without blinking an eye—who’s to say he wasn’t above doing it to Virgil? Who’s to say he hadn’t enthralled Virgil into being his friend? Who’s to say Virgil wasn’t an oblivious mouse in a game of cat and mouse? Oh gods, this had just confirmed all of Virgil’s worst fears and more.
“Virgil—” Remy said, reaching out, his eyes hidden beneath his shades. He continued speaking, a mumble jumbo string of excuses probably. Virgil couldn’t stand to stay around and listen to it.
“Stop—just don’t—” Virgil stuttered, taking one step and then another towards the open sidewalk. What was just a few steps then became a few hundred until he found himself leaning against the door to the apartment, hands shaking to slot the key to unlock it.
A few more steps he was inside, the usual musty smell an unexpected comfort. He sat on the couch, seconds stretching into eternity. He half-expected Remy to have chased after him, demanding Virgil to listen, why couldn’t you just listen, you’re so stupid no wonder you’re pathetic—
Virgil blinked a few times, his eyes burning with some sort of irritation. For some reason, Remy let him go. He couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. His head ached and so did his ears for some reason.
 Jerad entered the apartment a few millennia later. Virgil froze at the rattling doorknob, his hand clutching onto his phone in his pocket.
“There you are, you fucker!” Jerad drawled, stumbling over in a drunken stupor. His hand moved towards Virgil, but not with a closed fist. Instead he patted him on the back like earlier, “I can’t believe you did it! You finally got the balls to go and hook up with somebody! I guess I can’t call you Virgin, now huh?”
“Uh-huh,” Virgil murmured, not correcting him on that assumption. He sat there, a bit of tension draining from him. Jerad wasn’t mad for abandoning him. Jerad was still a jerk, but at least Virgil mostly knew what to expect of him. It wasn’t ideal, but that was life. It was better to deal with the devil you knew, then the devil you didn’t know. Virgil was stupid to have ever thought otherwise.
“My parents are being such dicks at the moment,” Jerad said, precipitously changing topics as per usual of him, “sometimes I wish I didn’t have to wait until they were dead to take my inheritance and do what I want to do, y’know?”
Virgil didn’t really know. Did his parents leave him money? They had to have had some sort of savings stashed away. A life insurance of some sort, right? It wasn’t like they were poor. He never thought about inquiring into that. Jerad accidentally slapped Virgil across the arm with a huge hand gesture, still ranting about something. Maybe it wasn’t an accidental hit.
Virgil didn’t know. His tether on reality felt weak, like a balloon close to floating away into the stratosphere. He almost wished he could float away, but the weight in his chest said otherwise. Jerad passed out not long after his rant, slumped half on the floor and half on the sofa. Virgil took this opportunity to slip into the comfort of his bedroom and turn on his cellphone once more.
 Seventeen new text notifications and five missed calls from Jerad greeted him, along with one new text notification from Logan. He clicked on Logan’s and his conversation, staring at Logan’s text at the bottom of it.
Logan: Virgil, Remy wanted me to inform you that he is taking a leave of absence from work. Please let me know if you need to take a leave of absence as well or need to confide in somebody as a friend, Patton or I would be happy to listen.
Virgil stared at it some more. Then he tapped out a short response, set the phone on the stool that was his makeshift nightstand and collapsed headfirst into his mattress. 
Virgil: K thanks, I’m fine
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A/N: Hope everyone is doing well, if you enjoyed the chapter please consider leaving a comment--it's completely free and helps me out as a fanfic writer a ton! I'm technically not in the Sanders Sides fandom anymore, but I still have a lotta fondness for this fic and I will finish it, even if takes me ten years to do so :') -Kat
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