#me @myself: YOU RUINED A PERFECTLY COOL CHICK IS WHAT YOU DID
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The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 25
(aka the royalty AU story)
Huh, these are some adorable characters we’ve got here, right? It would be a shame if something... happened to them... >:D
[1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24] [AO3]
The summer holidays began, and most of the students returned to their home countries for the long break. Kim left with Marinette and went to Cheng, and Max and Alix took the ocean liner to the northern port before going their separate ways.
It wasn’t that the journey made Alix feel irritable and tired, since she had taken that journey before and it wasn’t even that long. Perhaps it had been the fact that she hadn’t yet caught up on the sleep she missed the other night, where her brain had kept her awake for hours trying to think of how to let Kim down as gently as possible.
Considering this was the first year of her life she’d actually had any close friends, she had found herself more terrified of losing Kim’s friendship than she had realized. In fact, if he hadn’t run off immediately after confessing to her then she probably would have just agreed to be his sweetheart on the spot, just to keep him around. At least she’d had more time to think it over and trust that he hadn’t just been using their friendship to get close to her. No, he was a good friend, he understood that she didn’t feel the same way and was fine with it. Thank goodness for that.
The entourage of guards and press that turned up at the airport for her arrival did nothing to help her rather sour mood. Once she got home she was greeted by her family, then thankfully allowed to do as she pleased for the rest of the day. She decided to go rollerskating, hoping that would make her feel a little better.
She was just stepping out into the corridor from the throne room when it hit – a sudden surge of emotion, so strong she wasn’t even sure what it was at first. Anger? Fear? Helplessness? It felt like a mix of all three, so powerful she felt dizzy.
“Are you alright?” Jalil asked her. “You look really ill suddenly… really pale…”
Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. Maybe this was a panic attack? She had heard of those. But then again, nothing seemed to have caused it… was that possible?
“You should take a nap,” he continued. “I’ll wake you up before dinner if you want.”
Alix nodded, unable to speak. She went down to her room and lay on the bed, not really expecting to be able to fall asleep considering how she was feeling, but her lack of recent sleep managed to overpower it within seconds.
She should have known that her sudden bad mood would be an indicator that her dreams were going to turn into those creepy, haunting ones again. This time it wasn’t ambiguous at all – it was a nightmare, and not just any nightmare, but the most vivid, realistic nightmare she’d ever had in her life. Bolting upright, tears streaming down her cheeks, she could only remember one thing.
Her snake beheaded.
The poor innocent queen cobra, its head having been cut off and lying beside the rest of its body.
Dead.
She scrambled out of bed and climbed into the snake enclosure, practically blinded by her tears but not caring. She just needed to find her snake. The nightmare couldn’t have been real, surely that couldn’t have happened, her snake couldn’t have been decapitated–
Oh thank goodness, there it was. Dropping to her knees, she picked it up and hugged it as best as she could. Kim the First was alive and well, head firmly attached to the rest of its scaly body. Seeming to sense her terror, it curled up around her reassuringly.
She couldn’t help breaking down into tears. It was only a dream, she knew that, it wasn’t real, but for some reason the emotions she felt were just not going away. She was just so scared, so afraid of what would happen if her snake really died, especially as brutally as that, so angry at anyone who would potentially do something like that, so upset and not knowing what to do…
At some point Jalil came into the room, expecting to wake her up from her nap in time for dinner, but he instead discovered her sitting in the snake enclosure, clinging onto her pet snake for dear life and still sobbing all over it.
“I h-had a nightmare,” she said before he could ask. “Snake… beheaded…”
Her eyes were still burning with so many tears that she could hardly see, but it looked like her brother was climbing into the snake enclosure too. Sure enough within a few seconds she felt him hugging her, just like he used to do when she’d had nightmares as a little kid.
“It wasn’t real,” he reassured her. “It was just a bad dream.”
“But… what if…”
“Shhh, don’t dwell on it. You’ll forget about it soon enough. It was just a nightmare.”
“Or a vision!” She stroked her precious pet’s scales, vowing silently she would never take it for granted ever again. “It was just… so r-realistic… I’ve n-never had a dream like that before! I’m s-scared!”
“It’s okay. It seemed like you were ill earlier, maybe that’s why you had such a weird dream. You just need more rest. It’ll be alright.”
“But snake lifespans! Shorter than h-humans… he’s gonna… he’s gonna d-die someday and I just… I can’t… take that… I’m gonna break, Jalil! I can’t live without this snake!”
She burst into fresh tears, fairly certain she had never cried this hard before in her life. Why was she even feeling so irrationally terrified over a nightmare? Normally she was never afraid of anything!
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Jalil said. “For now at least this snake’s here to stay, okay? I promise. Everything will be fine.”
It sounded so hollow to her somehow. How did he know everything would be fine? He didn’t, that was what! He was only saying that to make her feel better, and it didn’t work whatsoever. Terrified, upset, angry, exhausted… she was filled with so many emotions it felt like she was going to burst. Had she ever felt this bad before? Not that she could remember.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go to dinner,” said Jalil, “since you’re feeling so unwell. Just stay here for now and I’ll have some food brought in for you, okay?”
“Okay…”
He patted her on the back and then left the room, leaving her alone with the snake. She tried to stop her tears but nothing seemed to work, like her brain had gone into shock and completely refused to listen to her.
Hopefully she would forget about this nightmare soon, right? She would get over it, and in a few days she would look back and laugh at how silly she had been. That would happen, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it?
Imperial Prince Adrien returned home to find his governess Nathalie standing at the top of the big marble staircase above the entrance hall, looking down over him with a much more serious expression than usual.
“Adrien, did you bring all your possessions back home with you?”
“Yes, why?”
“You may unpack them all fully. You won’t be needing to take them back to school.”
The porters at his side immediately began opening the various boxes of luggage, hauling things out.
“Why?” Adrien asked again.
“Your father, His Imperial Majesty, has decided it is best for you to remain here in Agreste from now on. In September you will not be returning to school, nor ever again.”
The words took a few seconds to sink in. He wasn’t allowed back to school…? Ever? It was like a sudden punch to the gut.
“Why can’t I go to school?” he asked, shocked to hear his voice cracking a little. “I love it there! I have so many friends, and I’m learning so much, and–”
“I’m afraid it’s not up to me,” Nathalie said, not looking him in the eye. “It is your father’s decision. You know he never wanted you to leave Agreste in the first place.”
“But what’s wrong with school?”
“During the most recent holidays your father noticed that your attitude seems to have changed. He does not think it a good change. If you stay here, away from the nobility and the riff-raff of lower ranks, you can learn to be… more like him.”
“But it’s not fair! Why didn’t he ask me? Or tell me earlier? I want to stay at school, I like having some freedom, I–”
“I believe this is what the emperor meant by your attitude having changed,” she said, looking down at the ground by her feet. “This carefree, spirited attitude, wanting to rebel and have your way all the time...”
Adrien glared up at her, wanting to yell at her, but he stopped himself. It was not Nathalie’s fault. She was just the messenger, and it didn’t look like she was happy about this outcome either. Anyway, hadn’t this same thing happened to Kim after the spring holidays? Perhaps Adrien could get out of it with some persuasion too.
He took a deep breath and then said, as clear and commanding as possible, “I would like to speak to my father about this.”
“Your father is abroad at the moment, directing the troops in the 7th region. He may not be back for some months yet, and he has already made sure to inform me that no amount of clever debating will change his mind – you are ‘grounded’, as the commoners put it. No leaving the palace. Do not even enter the palace grounds without permission, or you will have to stay in your room until your father deems you fit to leave.”
Grounded? Grounded was for people who weren’t being forced into living up to a duty that was thrust upon them, just because they wanted some friends and an education that wasn’t just propaganda. This was on another level entirely.
But wait… 7th region? In the colonies?
“What’s father doing in the colonies?” he asked. “He’s not taking over more land, is he?”
“…I’m not sure.”
That meant yes.
“But he should be back within the year,” she continued. “There are some issues in the region that he wanted to see to personally, so he went there himself.”
“What issues? Kim said that region’s too dangerous, that’s why he can’t go back home right now, so isn’t it too dangerous for father too?”
Nathalie shuffled on her feet nervously. “It may be more dangerous for citizens of Lê Chiến in that region than of Agreste.”
He felt his heart sinking. “What’s going on, Nathalie? What is father up to? Kim says there’s increasing hostilities between Agreste and Lê Chiến, is it because father did something?”
“The information is classified, so I really don’t think I should–”
“Please! Kim’s my friend, I have to know! I want him to be safe!”
She sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. “Fine. I don’t know everything about it, but there were plans for peace between the two nations. The emperor was going to return a part of the 7th region. However, the leaders of Lê Chiến were unhappy because upon inspection, all the natural resources of that area had been stripped, leaving it essentially worthless and unable to even be used as farmland.”
“You mean we took their land, wasted it all up until it was unusable, then tried to give it back to them under the guise of a peace offering?”
“It does sound rather harsh when you put it like that, but yes. The leaders of Lê Chiến have been asking for a piece of land that is not completely barren, but our empire cannot afford to give any away. Your father is directing troops to find more land, especially since much of the area is filled with jewel mines which would be good to have under the empire’s control.”
“So he is taking more land,” Adrien muttered through clenched teeth. “And what about Kim? Why is it unsafe for him to go back home?”
“There have been skirmishes at the borders,” Nathalie said, looking uncomfortable. “Ever since the troops have been stationed in the area, there has been an increase in raids and attacks on merchants and traders carrying supplies in and out of Lê Chiến…”
“The troops are trying to stop trade from getting into Lê Chiến? Please tell me father’s gone to stop them.”
She looked even more uncomfortable now. “Well actually, I highly doubt he disapproves of their behaviour… he might indeed be encouraging of it…”
“You know what, I’m not even surprised,” Adrien snapped. “It’s no wonder no one at school liked me at first, when our empire goes and does things like this without me even knowing.”
“Adrien, running an empire is a matter of strength, and–”
“Oh come on, I know you don’t really believe that. You’re just saying that because my father made you say it!” He began stomping off towards his bedroom.
“Wait, Adrien! You have a schedule to attend to!”
“I don’t feel well. Leave me alone!”
Storming away into his room, seething, he realized that was the first time in his life he’d had an outburst of anger like that. Maybe he had grown a backbone at school, surrounded by others who were not afraid to speak their mind. It felt… freeing.
But that did not solve any problems. He was still stuck at home indefinitely, and Kim was still in danger. Not to mention Kim’s kingdom, which would soon end up Agreste territory if he didn’t do something soon. But what? How could he do anything when his own father refused to let him leave the palace?
Meanwhile, Kim himself was not having a much better time. Cheng was absolutely lovely, he had been there before and was welcomed with open arms, but so many things were playing on his mind that it was hard for him to enjoy himself here like he usually did.
“What’s the matter?” Marinette asked him, finding him leaning on a balcony railing one day, watching the royal guards at their practice. “You seem so weirdly distant.”
“I miss home,” Kim mumbled. He stared off into the distance, the rolling hills fading away into the horizon. Lê Chiến was in that direction. So close, yet so far. “I wish I could go back, I don’t even know when I can… and I’m worried about its safety…”
Marinette put a comforting arm around him. “That’s understandable. It’s been a long time since you’ve been there, hasn’t it? I’d miss home so much too if I was away that long. And I don’t know much about the safety situation at all, that must be stressful to think about. But I’ll do my best to make your stay here as fun as possible in the meantime. Is there anything in particular you need me to do?”
“Nah, it’s fine, you’re already being awesome… so is your family…” He looked back down at the royal guard practice. “Hey Mari? Who’s that one who’s delivering the food? That one in the corner with the basket…”
Marinette peered over the balcony edge. “Oh, him? It’s just Bluebell. One of the servants. Why?”
“Huh? No reason…” He rested his head on his arms and continued watching the practice. Or rather, watching the servant handing out fresh fruit to everyone. Bluebell… what a cute name.
“I think there is a reason,” Marinette said, smirking. “If you want me to set you up with Bluebell you can just ask.”
“W-what? Haha no, I’m not… I just…” He sighed. “Okay, yeah, he’s kind of cute. And I guess that means you probably noticed somehow that I like guys. But… it’s not like I know anything about him, and… I just… I’m trying to get over someone else, and… well…”
“Kim, the truth is I saw you and Adrien kissing at the winter party – you’re both so tall that the chairs didn’t exactly hide you. So yes, I guessed you like guys. And I can also guess who you’re trying to get over, considering how much you’re always drooling over Alix like some kind of… anyway, I know you like her.”
“Yeah, well it’s not happening, so I’d better fall for someone else quickly so I can carry on being her friend without feeling like a total creep.”
“Aw Kim, you’re not a creep! It’s okay to have a crush on a friend. Nino has a crush on me, and I don’t think he’s a creep. You’re only a creep if you be creepy, and you are definitely not doing that. It’s clear you care about her a lot as a friend. That’s a good thing.”
Kim smiled at her. “Thanks, Marinette. You always know the right thing to say.”
“Noooo, I so don’t! I can’t even speak a full sentence around Adrien! I’ve just known you since forever, that’s why it’s easy to talk to you. You’re like… like a cousin to me. Or some kind of long-lost brother. And I’m going to help you feel better if I can. So, want me to set you up with Bluebell? He’s really nice from what I know of him!”
“I don’t know, he’s a boy so I don’t think that would go down well…”
“And he has a twin sister who is also really cute, for the record.”
“Really? Okay. I’ll… I’ll just meet them then. That would be cool.”
“Nice!” Marinette held out her fist for a fist bump, and Kim happily obliged.
Over the rest of the summer holidays things had not improved at all for Alix – in fact they had just gotten worse. The nightmare about her snake was still haunting her almost all the time. Whenever she closed her eyes she could see the image of her poor decapitated pet, like it was branded onto the insides of her eyelids, forcing her to relive it over and over again. She took her snake with her everywhere for its protection, refusing to let anyone else touch it. There was no way she was taking any chances.
Her odd moods did not improve either, and though she tried her best to shake it off as normal teenage mood swings, it was clearly something else entirely. What was wrong with her? It was like she was steadily feeling more and more unstable, confined, impulsive, exhausted…
It made her so ill she ended up being let off her pharaoh duties many days, just because she looked so tired. On these days she would take her skates and leave the palace, just needing to get out for a while and clear her head. Why was she feeling so weird closed in, anyway? It wasn’t like she was grounded or anything, she could do what she wanted.
Over the weeks she found herself spending more and more time with her brother, for some reason feeling like she missed him even though he was clearly right there. It was somewhat nostalgic, in fact. Just like things had been when they were younger. She had hoped maybe it would make her feel better, but it really didn’t at all. Her mood just continued to deteriorate.
At some point during the holidays Max had come to visit with some trade shipments. Alix had told him everything, about the horrific dream and the way it still made her feel ill even all these weeks later. He suggested it might be school stress catching up to her, or a spell of anxiety disorder, or something like that – but that there was probably nothing to worry about, and queen cobra lifespans were long enough that the snake would be around for at least another 15 years or so. That didn’t really reassure her.
The weeks passed, and things just got worse and worse, until one fateful night very near the end of the holidays. She had a dream that she couldn’t remember exactly, but it was definitely something to do with the snake pond where she had adopted her pet snake from in the first place. Being asleep, dreaming about that place, that wasn’t so bad. The trouble started when she suddenly woke up in the quietest hours of the night.
Her hand… it felt like it was burning. As if someone had stuck a hot needle into the back of it. She sat up and squinted at it in the darkness, but there didn’t appear to be anything wrong with it. Lying back down she tried to go back to sleep.
The pain in her hand suddenly tripled in intensity, shooting up her arm like there was lava in her veins. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She sat up again and looked back at her arm, but there was still nothing there. Rubbing her hand and trying to get the pain to stop, she felt violent tingles running through her arm all the way up to her shoulder, so painful it made her stomach heave.
She held back a sob and pushed herself out of bed. It felt like her feet were made out of lead, and her ears were ringing so much it was like she was going to faint. She managed to crawl into the snake enclosure where her beloved snake was already waiting for her, having sensed that something seemed to be very wrong. It slithered over to her and wrapped itself around her, hissing soothingly as she clutched her stinging arm, struggling to breathe through the pain.
She hoped whatever it was would have stopped by now, but it continually increased. Spikes of pain kept stabbing at her arm, making her feel sick, making her wish she could just tear her whole arm free of her shoulder socket just to get away from it. Minutes passed, and still there was no end in sight. It hurt so much she curled up into a ball and bit down on the skin on her knees, hoping it would distract her. Surprisingly she barely even felt it. It was nothing compared to how excruciating the pain in her arm was, after all.
What was even happening? Had she done something to her arm without realizing? She couldn’t even remember now, not when her brain was so fogged up and her entire arm felt like it was on fire. Maybe she should go call someone for help, but the prospect of getting up, actually moving, needing to speak… it was too daunting. She was immobilized, paralyzed, completely overcome with fear and pain. The only thing she could do was cry, feeling terror overwhelm her every time the pain kicked it up a notch, like the very blood in her arm was curdling and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Of course she was no stranger to pain. Living an active lifestyle meant she’d had her fair share of injuries. But she had never, ever suffered anything nearly as bad as whatever was happening now. And every time she thought it couldn’t get any worse, that surely it had to stop now, it somehow managed to exceed itself.
How had she not passed out yet? Or thrown up yet? Or died? Surely she was going to die. No human being could ever go through something so horrendously agonizing, for so long, and live to tell the tale. No, she was definitely going to die, not even knowing the reason why, not even caring at this point. All she wanted was for the pain to stop.
It did not stop. For what felt like hours, days, years, it continued. She gave up trying to fight it and just lay in the enclosure with the snake, crying. No one deserved to come to such a painful, torturous end. No one.
After what felt like an eternity, the pain finally subsided. It went away as suddenly as it had arrived, leaving Alix confused and exhausted. She wiped away her tears and lay back down, falling asleep right there in the snake enclosure.
Thank goodness she was alive. Whatever that had been, she never wanted to experience it ever again. Or any pain at all, for that matter. It hadn’t left a visible mark, but she was certainly not going to be able to forget that in a hurry, much like the nightmare about her snake being beheaded that she’d had right at the start of the holidays. It was probably going to haunt her forever.
Was there any possible way to ask Master Fu about this at the oracle session? She needed answers. But the students could not ask him questions about the past, it had to be about the future. Surely, though, there had to be some way she could find out what was going on?
She would just have to think about it.
#yessss i finally updated this. told you it would get more serious from now on#me @myself: YOU RUINED A PERFECTLY COOL CHICK IS WHAT YOU DID#LOOK AT HER. SHE'S GOT ANXIETY#(well kinda) (i swear all the weird spooky stuff will make sense soon)#you can always tell which characters are my favourites by how disproportionately mean i am to them#i love Angst and Pain and Suffering#royalty au#miraculous ladybug#ml fanfic#le chien kim#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#alix kubdel#random stuff#the misadventures of prince kim#aish writes
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@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.
main masterlist ☀️ taglist
emotional support nerd
Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.
This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.
"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."
Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.
With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."
I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.
"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.
What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.
The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.
Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.
Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.
Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.
"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.
Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.
"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.
"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.
"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.
My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.
The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.
"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.
"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.
"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.
It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.
"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.
"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.
She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"
Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.
"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.
I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...
"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.
"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.
She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.
The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.
Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.
In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.
Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.
Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.
"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.
"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.
"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"
Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.
"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.
"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.
"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."
Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.
I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.
"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.
The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.
Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.
Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.
I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.
I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.
His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.
There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.
When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.
"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.
God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.
Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.
The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.
He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.
Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."
Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.
"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.
Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.
"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.
My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.
Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.
"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.
A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.
I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.
"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.
"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.
"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.
Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.
He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.
The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.
"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.
The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.
My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.
I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.
My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-
Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.
A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.
"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."
"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.
Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.
My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"
"Yeah," My mouth watered.
"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.
I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.
In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.
"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.
I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.
Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.
"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.
In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.
"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.
I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.
Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.
Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.
"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.
"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.
He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.
"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"
"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.
"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.
Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.
"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.
The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.
The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.
Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.
"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."
Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.
I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.
"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.
"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.
"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.
He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.
"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.
"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-
Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-
Oh.
"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.
"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.
"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.
We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.
"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.
Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.
I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.
"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.
Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.
A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.
"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.
Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton
#bruce banner x reader#bruce banner smut#bruce banner x you#bruce banner x y/n#Bruce Banner#bun writes#I haven't written shit in a month and boom#6k words in three hours#i don't like the ending#I'm bad at them#okay#okay .
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Errol (Naga) Lemon
Rating: Explicit
Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga
Additional Tags: Cheating, Infidelity, Break-ups, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Secretly In Love, Angst, Sex, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Dom/Sub, Ovipositor, Oviposition, Pregnancy, Babies, Eggs, Egg Laying
Words: 7887
A commission for @anjhope1! After catching her fiance cheating, the reader breaks up with him and goes home miserable. The ex-fiance's brother, Errol, arrives on his brother's order to get his things from her apartment, but Errol is more interested in taking care of the reader and making sure she's okay. It leads to some confusing feelings and a confession. Please reblog leave feedback!
The Traveler’s Masterlist
You’d had your suspicions for a while, but it wasn’t until you got the message on social media from a girl he’d dated and dumped who had photographic proof of it that you finally had to face the truth.
Your fiance was cheating on you.
Eric was a naga and had been with you for more than five years. He had asked you to marry him, ring and all, on New Years Eve with his family. He had made a big show of it, too. And now, you were going to have to confront him about being a cheating bastard.
The woman who had been dumped told you that he was now dating her friend, and she had gotten the room number where they were supposed to meet. You got to the hotel with your heart in your throat and knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” That was definitely Eric’s voice. He had told you that his friend needed help moving and that he’d be staying over to help him. What a good friend he was.
You deepened your voice in an effort to mask it. “Room service.”
“Oh, good, I was wondering if you were ever going to come,” Eric said, and the door swung open. As soon as he saw you, the blood drained out of his already pale face.
“No, wait--”
“Hey, babe, did they bring the right wine this time?” A female voice said from inside.
You took off your ring and threw it in his face and called inside the room, “You can have the bastard.” And walked away.
“Wait, please, this isn’t what you think,” Eric said, slithering quickly down the hall to catch you. He grabbed your arm and you wrenched it violently out of his grasp.
“Babe, who’s this?” The woman said. She was human and pretty, you guessed.
“I’m his fiance,” You retorted. “Oh, sorry, ex-fiance. Don’t worry, he’s all yours.”
“What the fuck, Eric?!” She shouted at him. “Are you kidding me?”
“Rachel, it’s not…” He stuttered. “It isn’t…”
Rachel slapped him and pushed past you toward the elevator, not looking back.
“Babe--” He started, turning back toward you.
“Don’t you dare call me ‘babe,’ you son of a bitch. Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you waste five fucking years of my life?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you--”
“I don’t give a shit what you meant to do! I want an explanation. Was the sex bad? Do you not love me anymore? Are you just the type of person who has to have a side-chick? What? What about this is good for you? What about all this made destroying our relationship worth it?”
He groaned and scratched his head with both hands. “I… It… I can be anything I want to be with those girls, you know? If I say I’m rich, then I’m rich. If I say I’m successful, then I’m successful, and they don’t know better. They don’t know I have a shitty job that I hate. They don’t know that my girlfriend makes twice as much money as me, that she’s popular with people and everyone likes her better than me, even my own fucking family. They don’t know what a fucking loser I am.”
“And that’s my fucking fault?!” You screamed at him. “You know what you could have done instead of ruining a five year relationship? Gotten fucking therapy! Or, better yet, talked to me about it! I have been nothing but supportive of you. I have encouraged you to leave your job and find a better one. I told you I would support you until you found something that made you happy. You could have gone back to school or done and apprenticeship or vocational work, whatever, and I’d have been there! You could do whatever you wanted, and I would have helped you, and you know that!”
“Right, because you so fucking perfect, huh?” He yelled back. “It’s not enough that you rub your perfect job in my face every day and go around spending whatever you want because you don’t have to worry about money, but you also have to be perfectly supportive and perfectly giving and perfectly loving, too, right? How am I supposed to feel good about myself when you’re always better than me at everything?”
“So, it’s my fault you’re cheating on me because I’m a good girlfriend? Is that what you’re saying to me? I’m too fucking nice, so you had to put your dick in random women to feel better about yourself?” You raised your hands as if surrendering and shook your head in disbelief. “You know what? Fucking forget me. Forget our relationship, forget getting married, forget you ever knew me, forget my fucking face, don’t ever come to my house, don’t ever message me again, delete my number from your phone. As far as you’re concerned, I don’t exist to you, because you sure as shit don’t exist to me anymore.” You turned to leave.
“What about my stuff?” He protested.
“Send your brother to come get your shit,” You said without turning. “If you set foot on my property, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. I’m not fucking around. I’m so fucking glad you never moved in when I offered. ”
“So that’s it?” He said as you waited for the elevator to come back up. “You’re not even willing to work this out? It’s just over?”
“Get fucked, Eric,” You said, stepping into the elevator. “Oh wait, you already did. Do yourself a favor and sell that ring to pay for a therapist.” And the door closed on him.
As soon as the elevator started to move, you hit the floor and sobbed. Why? Why was he like this? You thought everything was perfect up until a few months ago, and you hadn’t know he felt like this. He always seemed happy. How were you supposed to know otherwise if he never said anything?
How you got back home, you didn’t know, because you didn’t remember it. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the freezer and didn’t even bother with a glass. For about an hour, you just sat there disheveled on your couch, crying and drinking.
Sometime later, there was a sheepish knock on your door. You hoped to God that it wasn’t Eric, but when you opened the door, Errol was there. Errol, Eric, and their sister Enya, were all from the same clutch of eggs, so he looked a lot like his brother in that they all had white, black, gold scales, golden eyes, cream colored skin, and blond hair. Errol was a bit larger that Eric, and where Eric wore his hair short, Errol kept his long and braided back. You always thought that it made him look elegant, despite his size. He was still wearing his work clothes, as if he’d just come from his construction job.
You and Errol hadn’t spent much time together alone, since Eric was a little jealous of other men. He’d always been very nice to you, though, and liked you just as well as the rest of his family. He’d even given you advice a few times in the past when you and Eric were fighting.
“Can I come in?” He asked, wincing.
“Did you know?” You asked him, your throat raw and hoarse from crying.
“No, I didn’t know,” He said solemnly.
“Don’t bullshit me, Errol,” You replied harshly.
“I swear I didn’t know. I would have told you, I promise. My brother can be an asshole, but I never thought he would do something like this.” Errol grimaced. “Are you okay?”
“Do I fucking look okay?” You retorted, your voice shaking as the tears returned. “If you’ve come to get his stuff, just get it and leave.”
“I couldn’t give less of a shit about his stuff, I’m here for you,” Errol said. He held up a couple of plastic bags. “I brought take out and ice cream.”
“I’m not hungry,” You said vaguely, but you moved aside to let him in.
“I got alcohol, too,” He said as he slithered inside. “I could make you a Bailey’s float.”
You sighed and sniffled. “Okay.”
You sat at your table as he bustled around making the drink, laying your tear-flushed face on the cool surface of the wood.
“What did I do wrong?” You asked weepily with your cheek pressed against the table.
“Nothing,” Errol said as he lay the glass in front of you, moving a chair so that he could coil up next to the table. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why did he do it?” You asked, sitting up and taking a watery bite of the ice cream. “Why wasn’t I enough? He said ‘girls,’ which means there’s probably more than the two I know about. How long has he been doing this? Our whole relationship?”
“When he called me to come over here and get his stuff for him, I asked. I’m not sure if he was telling me the truth, but he said it’s only been the last year.” Errol snorted derisively. “Only.”
“How many girls?” You asked.
He shook his head. “He wouldn’t tell me. He kept trying to get me to side with him, but…” Errol rolled his eyes. “I’m not buying anything he says right now.”
“Did he do this to his other girlfriends?”
“Well, you were his first serious girlfriend,” Errol said. “Before you, he only dated casually, so it was never a problem. When he said he really loved you, I thought he meant it.”
“Yeah.” Your lip quivered and you stabbed the spoon into your float. “Me too.”
Errol reached out and pulled you into a tight hug, which you sank into and let loose again, soaking his shirt in tears.
“I’m so sorry,” Errol whispered into your hair.
At some point, Errol put you to bed. You were exhausted and drunk and just wanted to sleep, so he lay you down and left you to it.
When the morning came, you felt like your head had been run over with a truck. You decided to get some coffee going before taking a shower, but to your surprise, Errol was still there. He was in the kitchen on the phone, his hair out of it’s usual braid and tumbling down his shoulders.
“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Errol said. You immediately realized he was talking to his brother. “No, I’m not picking up your shit. I don’t care if she burns it all.” He was silent for a moment, and you could hear Eric speaking. “No… No, you’re full of shit. Do you know what a good thing you had? Do you have any idea what I would give to have what you just shit on? …fuck no, I’m not going to talk her into taking you back, are you insane?! Get over yourself… No… No, it’s not happening, you can go fuck yourself right now… Look, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now.”
Errol hung up and turned, startled to realize you were standing there. “Oh, hey,” He said. “How are you feeling?”
“Not great,” You replied honestly. “I didn’t know you were still here.”
“Yeah, you were in bad shape last night and I didn’t want to leave you alone. I slept on the couch, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” You said. “I was just going to make coffee.”
“Oh, I already made some,” He said, going to the coffee pot and pouring you a mugful. “I figured you could use it. I’ve got breakfast coming too, something greasy to absorb all that alcohol.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” You said, sipping the coffee. It was really good, but not your normal brand, though it tasted very familiar. Actually, now that you thought about it, you always drank the gross coffee Eric liked. This was a nice change. “I’m going to take a shower and wash last night off of me. Are you okay here?”
“Yeah, yeah, take your time,” He said, turning to pull down plates and prepare for breakfast.
You were about to turn to the bathroom but stopped. “Errol.”
He looked back up at you. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for… thanks.”
He smiled at you. “It’s no problem at all.”
You took your shower with your head pressed against the tile. Why couldn’t you just forget? Why couldn’t you put all of it out of your mind and stop thinking about it? What would it take to make the pain stop?
The water was cold by the time you got out, and when you went back into the kitchen, the food had arrived and Errol had everything set out on the table. He looked up anxiously when you came in.
“You okay?” He said, concerned. “You were in there for a worryingly long time. I was thinking about going in there if you hadn’t come out in five minutes.”
“I’m fine. Well, not fine, but you know.”
“Yeah,” He said sympathetically. “Try to eat. All you had last night were two bites of ice cream and a lot of alcohol.”
You picked up your fork and speared a sausage. “I must look horrible.”
“Nope, not possible,” He said, tucking into his own plate of food. “A person can look tired and cute at the same time, you know.”
You snorted, prodding your puffy face gently. “You’re too nice. Maybe I should have dated you instead.”
He laughed. “You know, it’s actually kinda funny, I was going to ask you out back in college before you started dating Eric.”
“Really?” You asked, surprised.
“Yeah, he kind of sniped you, if I’m being honest.”
“I never knew that,” You said. “Did he know you wanted to ask me out?”
“Oh, yeah, I told him,” He said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “I told him there was a girl at my college who always went to this one coffee shop near campus, and I told him I was going buy you your favorite coffee and cookies as an icebreaker.”
Your head rocked back. “That’s exactly what he did when he asked me out.”
Errol tsked sardonically. “Yeah. I know.”
You scoffed. “Wow, what an absolute asshole.”
Errol shrugged and smiled. “Ancient history now. Do you want some more coffee?”
“Yeah, thanks,” You said as he filled your cup. “This is really good, what is it?”
“Orange and almond mocha.”
You cocked your head. “Wait… isn’t that the blend I drank at the coffee shop? It used to be my favorite.”
“I know,” He said. “I ordered some. I thought it might be a nice pick-me-up. The shit that Eric drinks is revolting.”
“That’s definitely true,” You said, looking at Errol closely. “You remembered what my favorite coffee blend was from five years ago?”
Errol looked up at you. His face seemed carefully blank.
“Yeah, but I mean, it’s no big deal.” He wiped his mouth and sat back. “I should get going, I have work in a few hours. Are you going to be okay here on your own?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to take some personal days.”
Errol nodded.”That’s a good idea. I’ll call later to check on you, okay? If you need anything, just text me.”
“Okay,” You said, feeling a little off-balance.
Errol smiled and let himself out, and you were left standing there, staring after him as an overwhelming sense of realization hit you like a freight train.
…did I date the wrong brother all this time?
Later in the day, Eric called. You almost weren’t going to pick up, but you decided to see what he had to say for himself now that the heat of the moment had passed.
“What do you want?” You said brusquely.
“Why did my brother spend the night at your house last night?” Eric said immediately.
“...excuse me?” You replied, incredulous.
“You heard me. What the fuck was he doing there?”
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
“What do you mean, it’s not my business? He’s my brother and you’re my fiance!”
“Ex-fiance,” You corrected him. “First of all, you are the one who told him to come over in the first place. Secondly, I was not obviously doing well last night and he stayed to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or die in my sleep of alcohol poisoning. And third, and I cannot stress this enough, it’s none of your fucking business.”
“Don’t bullshit me, you know he’s in love with you.”
Your head snapped back in agitation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh, you really don’t know? Ms. Perfect doesn’t know that my asshole brother has had a crush on you for years?”
“You’re full of shit, Eric,” You retorted. “Don’t drag Errol into this.”
“Did you just decide to fuck my brother to get back at me, is that it?”
“Fuck you, Eric!” You hung up the phone and hit the floor, a wave of anguish washing you again. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he have to make everything worse?
The phone rang again, and it was Eric. You decided to block him and be done with it. You got a notification from Facebook, and then Twitter, and then Instagram, all from Eric. Every new notification made your anxiety rise higher and higher until you were balled up on the floor, sobbing again. In desperation, she dialed Errol’s number.
“Hello?”
“Please help,” She begged, weeping. “He won’t leave me alone. He keeps messaging me and calling me. I can’t… I can’t do it…”
“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” Errol said. He sounded angry.
“Can you come over? Please?”
“Of course, I’ll be right there.”
“Okay. I’m going to turn off my phone.”
“That’s a good idea,” He said. “If I need to, I can message you on your gaming console.”
“Okay,” You said. “Bye.”
He hung up with you and you turned your phone off, sitting on the floor of your kitchen in the blissful silence, unable to get up.
Was that true? Could it be possible that Errol had been in love with you the whole time you’d been dating Eric? He said he’d wanted to ask you out. He remembered tiny details, like what your favorite coffee had been. He made you your favorite dessert when you were miserable without even having to ask what it was. He stayed overnight to make sure you didn’t get hurt or hurt yourself. He bought breakfast and defended you. He didn’t have to do any of that. He was just your fiance’s brother. Ex-fiance.
He arrived shortly after you called him. As soon as he entered the house, before he had a chance to say anything, you reached up, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. For a second or two, there was no reaction, but then he leaned into the kiss, deepening it, savoring it, before abruptly putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you back, forcing you to look him in the eye.
“...why did you do that?” He asked you, his face grim.
“Eric told me,” You said. “He said you’ve been in love with me the entire time I was dating him. Is that true?”
Errol looked down and away. “Look--”
“You told Eric on the phone that you’d have given anything to have what he had. You meant me, right?”
“Please don’t do this.”
“Errol, look at me!” You shouted.
It seemed to take a lot of will, but Errol’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours. They were pleading with you.
���Do you love me?”
His face scrunched as if he were in pain and he swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t…
“Don’t…lie to me,” You said in a tense whisper, tears spilling from your eyes. “Do you?”
Tears began to gather in his own eyes. His response was barely audible.
“…yes.”
“For how long?”
“Since I first saw you in the coffee shop.”
You tried to press forward to kiss him again, but he held you firm, sniffing. A tear rolled down his cheek.
“But I don’t want to be used to get revenge on my brother,” He whispered back, his voice strangled and uneven. “It’s not good for you and it’s not fair to me. You know that.”
Your face crumpled. He was right.
“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, unable to look at him anymore. “I just don’t want to think about him anymore. I don’t want him in my head.”
Finally, Errol pulled you into a hug.
“I know,” He said. His body was tense, as if he were restraining himself. “We can revisit this later. Much later.”
“When?” You asked piteously.
“Not now. Not soon. You need time to heal and I… need to think.”
“I’m sorry, Errol,” You cried into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never saw it.”
He laughed slightly. “It’s not your fault. I got really good at hiding it. And Eric always kept you at arms length from me. I think he was afraid I’d steal you away or something.”
He let you go and you stepped away, looking at the ground in shame.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was using you,” You said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He put his hand under his chin and made you look up at him, his thumb stroking your cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’m relieved the secret is out now. Tiptoeing around you and Eric was exhausting. The engagement was my worst nightmare, because it meant I’d have to just suffer in silence forever.”
“Well, I’m glad that’s over for both our sakes, then,” You said, attempting to smile.
He smiled too, but it was very soft. Gentle. “I don’t… think it’s a good idea for us to hang out together much from now on, at least for a while,” He said, letting go. “But… we can text. We can call. If you need anything, I’m always here for you. That’s always been true.”
You nodded. “I know.” You sighed and took another step back. “I’m going to miss you.”
His smile widened sadly. “I’m not far, but… I know what you mean.”
With the both of you in tears, he turned, opened the door, and was gone. Thirty seconds after he left, however, you got a text.
>Are you okay?
You smiled through your tears, feeling glad and grateful that he was still communicating with you. >No. But I think I will be.
>Good.
>Are you okay? You asked in return.
>Honestly, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. This was a lot at once.
>Yeah, no kidding. I think I may see a therapist to help me out.
>That’s a really good idea. Maybe I should too.
>I think everyone should at least once.
>Yeah. Do you need anything?
>No, I’m okay. Thank you for everything, Errol.
>It’s my pleasure.
Some time passed. You and Errol talked and texted every single day. Neither of you brought up dating each other and carefully avoided affectionate language. He wanted you to heal and you wanted to give him a fair chance without the cloud of his brother hanging over you.
Talking to him was effortless, like talking to yourself. You each had your own tastes and dislikes, but you both loved a lot of the same things and had similar desires. You both loved your jobs, enjoyed the same music, gushed over books you’d read, and liked playing board games. One of your favorite things to do was watch movies remotely over Zoom. It was almost like being on a date, even if you couldn’t be together.
As hard as you tried not to, you compared everything Errol did to Eric. Even still, it was obvious that Errol had always been better suited to you than Eric ever was. It was abundantly clear that you had indeed been dating the wrong brother the entire time.
On what was supposed to be your anniversary with Eric, Errol sent you a link to play a horror game with him. Errol hated anything horror, so instead of spending the day crying and drinking and cursing Eric for being alive, you got to laugh the whole day at how loud Errol screamed when he was startled. It ended up being a wonderful day.
You did see a therapist, as did Errol, and the two of you would talk about your sessions with each other, sharing the advice the counselors had given you. He also sent you gifts through delivery, like the coffee you loved and your favorite treats. Whenever you’d had a bad day or had to deal with Eric due to post-breakup business, a treat would arrive the next day, and it always put a smile on your face.
You were worried that all the time apart might change how Errol felt, but he never wavered. You woke up every day to a text saying good morning, and went to bed after talking to him for at least an hour about your day. After a month, you realized that a day or two would go by when you wouldn’t think of Eric at all. You hadn’t thought that would be possible when you first broke up with Eric, and he did still haunt your thoughts most of the time, but the respite from the emotional distress of thinking of him, even for a short time, was wonderful.
Three months after the breakup and his confession, you, Errol, and your therapists all decided that you were ready to date again. That same day, Errol showed up on your doorstep with flowers. The sight of him was like breathing fresh air after being underwater.
“Hi,” He said, smiling brightly.
“Hi,” You replied, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. He reciprocated without hesitation.
“So…” He said, not letting go. “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”
“Yes,” You said, cuddling him closer.
He pulled back and kissed you for a very long time, tasting your lips and teasing his tongue just inside your mouth. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and just looked at your face, touching your cheeks with his fingertips. Eventually he stepped back.
“Let’s go.”
Dating him was amazing. He knew everything there was to know about you, so he took you to places you loved, to all your favorite restaurants, to concerts he knew you’d enjoy. It was like you’d been dating for years already, even though it was just a few weeks. You made out like teenagers, hot and heavy, but he was careful about being intimate too quickly, though, still fearful about being a rebound. You respected that.
You were already talking about the future, though. You both wanted to get married eventually and to be parents before you turned thirty. Before breaking up, you had been talking about having kids with Eric, which was something he had expressed interest in during the start of your relationship, but recently he had been making excuses, like he didn’t have enough in savings or he didn’t feel ready. You guessed you knew why now.
You were worried that his family would be angry with you for ending your relationship with Eric and dating Errol, but they seemed completely understanding. It was likely they were also aware that Errol had been in love with you forever, and the fact that Eric cheated on you wasn’t something they were proud of. You were still warmly invited to all the family gatherings with Errol, and while having Eric there was a little awkward, his seething anger at seeing you happy with Errol was the best revenge you could have asked for.
“They let everyone in the office have the day off. Do you want to hang out today?” You asked Errol one night after about a month and a half of dating.
“Ordinarily I’d love to, but I’m feeling kinda weird today. Squishy. I think I’m going to have my period soon.”
He wasn’t being hyperbolic; nagas with male sex organs both created the eggs and fertilized them, but they didn’t have a womb or cavity in their bodies where the eggs could incubate, which is why they needed people with uteruses to propagate the species. It took a month for the eggs to develop inside them, but after that, they could implant them into another person’s body at any time they chose. However, after a year, the eggs died naturally and were expelled from their bodies, therefore, male nagas experienced periods once a year. Eric usually went to a specialized facility where the eggs would be humanely disposed of.
“Are you sure? Isn’t it rather soon for that.”
“I went into heat last week. The eggs usually die quickly after that.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize,” You said. “Why did you go into heat? That typically only happens when nagas in a sexual relationship with someone, right?”
“That, and if you’re experiencing extreme sexual needs that aren’t being met.”
“Oh. Ohhh…” You hissed in a breath. “Is it because of me?”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” He reassured you. “It’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”
You were silent for a moment of deep contemplation. He seemed to sense you were thinking about something.
“What’s the matter?” He asked.
“Do you think the eggs are still viable?”
It was his turn to be silent. “Um… maybe. Probably. I think it’ll be another week before I need to go in to evacuate them. Why do you ask?”
“I was just thinking…” You said slowly. “We both said we wanted kids. And I know we’re just starting out, and this is super sudden, and it probably doesn’t even make sense to do this now, and we haven’t even had sex yet, but… oh, god, I’m rambling…” You sighed heavily. “If you’d like, we can wait until next year when we’ve been together for longer, but… it just seems like this is a good opportunity. It… feels right, you know what I mean? If that’s what you want.”
He took another moment of silence to think really hard about what you were saying. “Are you sure about this, honey?” He asked you finally.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” You said resolutely. “I love you, and I’m in a good place, both emotionally and financially. I’m ready to be a mom. I have been for years.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Is this something you want? I mean… I totally understand if it isn’t. If you want to wait, that’s fine with me. I just… I want to do this.”
His voice turned sultry. “You really want my eggs?”
You grinned and bit your lip. You’d learned through hints in conversations you had with him that he had a little bit of a breeding and pregnancy kink.
“Yeah. But we should act fast if we want them to take.”
“I’ll be right over,” He said, and the phone clicked.
You immediately went into the bathroom to get ready, feeling nervous. There was a weight of expectation on you, not just because you were talking about getting pregnant, but also because of how long Errol had wanted to be with you. You were scared that you wouldn’t live up to his expectation.
He arrived shortly after, looking excited and nervous. You pulled him into your arms and kissed him. He was shaking.
“Are you okay?” You asked.
“Yeah,” He said, touching your face reverently. “I’ve just… I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”
You smiled softly at him. “Come on.” You took him by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. He took a deep, shaky breath and followed.
Once in the room, he pulled you in and kissed you again, deeper this time, more probing, his body pressed flush against yours.
“I’m not sure how to… begin…” He said. “I don’t know what you like and don’t like yet.”
“We can learn as we go,” You said. “We don’t have to rush.”
“Well, what do you like? Do you have any kinks I should know about?”
You laughed. “I have a few, I guess.”
“Tell me about one,” He said.
Instead of telling, you knelt down and sat on your knees with your butt resting on your feet, perched forward on your hands, and looked up at him through your lashes.
“What would you like me to do for you?” You asked, biting your lip.
His eyebrows rose and a startled smile spread across his face. “Oh,” He said. Slowly, he took off his long shirt, exposing his torso and the slit on his lower abdomen, usually closed and imperceptible from his scales, but now swollen and puckered slightly. He ran his fingers through your hair where you were crouched on the floor and came close, so that his slit was near your face.
“Touch it for me, sweetie,” He said.
Gently, you circled one finger around the slit, feeling it pulse under your touch. He exhaled sharply and his head fell back, his braid swinging. With your forefinger and middle finger, you stroked it up and down, watching it open slowly. You leaned forward and kissed it, and he spasmed, groaning.
Gradually, two dicks emerged from his slit, a long, thin one with a spear-like head, and a shorter, thick one with a bulbous head. You knew each had a different purpose. Normally, the thin one would be retracted so that nagas could just enjoy sex, but the thin one was an ovipositor. It’s what implanted the eggs. You knew not to touch it, since it secreted a numbing agent that made implanting the eggs easier.
“Now?” You asked.
“Not yet,” He said. “You’re not ready yet. Stand up.”
You obeyed, and he began to undress you. You started to help, but he said, “No, no, let me do it.”
You put your arms back down and let him peel your clothes off. And then he just looked at you.
“Stand still,” He said. “Stay quiet.”
You nodded, obeying.
“Good girl,” He whispered. “That’s my good girl.”
He started with your shoulders, letting his fingers run over your skin, down your arms, up your sides, caressing your breasts, down your belly, and reached one hand between your legs. You gasped.
“Shh,” He said. “Stay silent.”
It was a hard order to follow, as he touched your pearl and massaged it slowly, running a finger inside your slit as he did. Your breathing was uneven and you had to bite a finger, but you managed to be quiet.
“You can make all the noise you want soon,” He promised seductively. “I just want to test how good you can be for me.”
You nodded again, your body shivering at his touch.
He brought his face very close to yours, so that your lips were mere millimeters apart, but stopped short of actually kissing you. You could feel his cool breath on your neck and chest, and it made your heart race.
“You’re getting there,” He said, pushing a finger inside your entrance. You inhaled, but bit down on your cheek to stay silent.
“Good girl,” He said, pulling his finger out. "Lay face down on the bed and lift your ass up. Spread your legs open.”
You nodded again and followed his orders, doing exactly what he asked of you. He slithered up behind you and went back to touching between your legs with one hand, the other sliding up and down your spine. You felt him sink down and kiss your thighs.
“You can moan for me, darling,” He said.
You were happy to obey, and whimpered against your pillow as he licked a long stripe from behind, kneading your buttocks as he did. He moaned as he sucked on you, your legs shaking. He pressed his thumb into you as he sucked, and you thought you were going to cum. He stopped just before that happened, leaving you feeling desperate.
“Good,” He said. “You’re perfect.” He crawled over you from the back so that his face was next to yours and he kissed you. “Are you still sure about this? We can just have sex, I don’t have to breed you.”
“You want to, don’t you?”
“Don’t worry about what I want right now, are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Yes,” You simpered. “I want it. Give them to me. Please. I want them.”
He bit his lip, looked at you like you were something he wanted to eat, and grinned. “Good girl.” He went out of view then, and you felt his hands on your hips.
“Be still,” He said. “Let me in.”
You nodded, and felt the slim tube enter your body. The anesthetic began working immediately, so you only had a vague sensation of it pushing all the way in, penetrating your womb, and fixing itself there.
“Are you hurting, love?” He asked as he lay over you, putting his arm under your head so that you could lay on it and resting his body on top of you. Your hips were still in the air and your stomach wasn’t touching the bed.
“No, I’m okay,” You replied.
“Good,” He said, sounding a bit strained, his body tensing. His stuttering breath blew through your hair. “It’s starting.”
He grunted, but you couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or pain. His breathing was sharp and punctuated as the egg moved down through the ovipositor and into you. You could feel a small swell in your stomach, but it wasn’t painful. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder and relaxed and shuddered, gasping.
“Did it hurt?” You asked.
“Not exactly,” He replied a little breathlessly. “It feels good, but it’s also a bit of work to push it out. Sorry this isn’t as sexy as you might have hoped.”
“Who said it wasn’t?” You replied, nuzzling him. “It’s like a special kind of foreplay. Besides, I’m really enjoying all the sounds that are coming out of you.”
“I can feel that,” He said, laughing. “You keep squeezing me.” He tensed again and started grunting, hugging you tightly.
“You’re doing great,” You told him.
“This is… harder than I thought it would be,” He said stiltedly. You could feel the sweat from his brow dripping on your skin.
“You can do it,” You said, kissing his arm as it gripped you and biting his thumb. “How many do you think there are?”
“I think three,” He said. He exhaled forcefully, and you felt another swell slip into you as he panted.
“One more, honey,” You said. “Deep breaths.”
He snickered, and then groaned. “Okay…” He said. He gripped you hard as the last one came and passed through. You were beginning to feel a full sensation in your belly and felt glad this was the last one.
Once it was out, the ovipositor retracted and he flopped onto the bed, gasping like a fish.
“Whoa,” He said. “Laying them in a person is way different than disposing of them.”
“How so?” You asked, moving to lie on your side so that you could touch him. He was clammy and cold.
“That felt great,” He said, looking over at you and smiling. “Like, it hurt a bit, but it felt like a small orgasm every time.”
“Probably a biological incentive to procreate,” You said, kissing his chest and neck.
He snorted. “Probably.” He looked at you with his eyes half lidded. “It’s going to be a few minutes until you get the feeling back down there. Why don’t you spend some time and play with me?”
“Is that an order?” You asked.
“Do you want me to punish you?” He asked.
“Maybe I’ll like it,” You said with a smirk.
He took you by the chin and made you look down at the second, larger cock, which was still erect and bobbing. “Touch me.”
You went down and sat astride his tail so that he could watch you take his cock in your hand, and begin to slowly pump it up and down.
“Hmm, that’s good,” He said with a satisfied sigh. “Let me know when your feeling comes back. We don’t want to waste time.”
“I will,” You said, stroking him. Your stomach felt tight, so you rubbed it as you touched him, drawing his eye. He watched you hungrily.
“I can’t believe you did that,” He said, smiling at you.
“We’re only half-way there,” You told him. “Don’t get too excited.”
He bucked his tail and nearly knocked you over onto the bed, making you shriek and laugh.
After a few minutes of teasing and touching and good-natured laughter, the feeling began to return. You started rocking on his tail to be sure, and realized that you were extremely sensitive.
“It’s back?” He asked
You nodded, pleasuring yourself against his body.
“Good. Lay down.”
You obeyed, and he moved to lay on top of you, his tail between your legs and his slit lining up with yours, kissing you deeply and rolling your nipples in his fingers. He pushed himself inside you as he kissed you, careful not to go too deep, as the ovipositor had made you a little sore. You rolled your body against his in time with his thrusts. You were so sensitive that you could already feel the crest of ecstasy beginning to wash over you.
“I love you so much,” He whispered against your skin. “I’m so happy.”
“I love you,” You replied, your hands in his hair as he moved inside you with purpose, precision. “I’m close. I’m so close.”
He stopped immediately, and you groaned shrilly, the sensation of denial sending a shiver up your back.
“Not yet,” He said, biting your lower lip. “Not until I say. Be a good girl.”
You nodded, panting and trembling, but your body was betraying you, writhing desperately against him, trying to regain the friction.
“Be still,” He said. “I’m not going to move again until you be still.”
You squealed in need, but you did your best to make your body stop clutching at him. It took a minute, but you managed to settle down.
“Good,” He said, slowly moving inside you again. “Good girl.”
“Cum inside me,” You begged. “Please.”
“I will,” He said, kissing you. “When I want to. Be patient and I’ll reward you.”
Your body was wound so tightly that you thought you were going to explode, practically vibrating underneath him. The sight of it made him grin.
“You’re so beautiful,” He said, licking your earlobe, still keeping the maddeningly slow pace. “Do you want it that bad?”
“Yes!” You groaned. “Yes, please. Errol, please.”
He thrust sharply, but not hard, and you nearly came undone. You cried out, about to snap like a string.
“Are you always going to be a good girl for me?” He whispered sinfully.
“Yes!”
“Do you promise me?”
“Yes!”
“Say it. Say ‘I promise.’”
“I promise, I promise, please!”
His thrusts became targeted again. “Beg me some more.”
“Errol, please! Please let me cum, please!” You cried. Every muscle, every nerve in your body was screaming for release.
“You can cum when I tell you to,” He said, though his movements were extremely efficient now. He was very good at drawing this out.
“I can’t take it, please!” You begged.
“One more time, say you love me, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“I love you! I love you so much! Please!”
From there, he wasted no time, slamming himself into you with speed. In no time at all, you were a screaming, shaking mess underneath him, thanking him over and over. The tension in his body and the sudden shout and moaning from him told you that he had reached his peak too.
“Not yet,” He gasped, rearing up. “I’m not done yet.”
He had leaned up so that he could look down at you and put his hand on your stomach, feeling the new hardness there. He kept going, pistoning against your body, snapping his hips against you, and rode the wave for a second time, all focus and concentration.
The both of you came one final time before he collapsed on the bed beside you, sucking in air as hard as you were. For a few minutes, all you could do was breathe.
After some time, he left the bed and went into the bathroom, and you heard the water in the tub running. You were barely conscious when he came back and lifted you out of the bed, taking you into the bathroom, and lay you down in the warm water of the bath. You were so tired and boneless that you could hardly raise your head, so he carefully, lovingly washed your body, paying special attention to your belly.
“Are you alive?” He asked after some time of sitting next to the tub, watching you drift in and out.
“I think so,” You replied, opening your eyes to smile sleepily at him. “Do you think they took?”
“We won’t know for a while. You should take it easy until then.” He smoothed the hair away from your face and stroked your cheek. “You’re going to have my babies,” He said, laughing a little.
“I hope so,” You said, taking his hand and kissing the palm.
“Eric is going to be pissed,” Errol said, snickering.
You snorted. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about him once today. This isn’t about him.”
Errol kissed you. “You’re right. It isn’t. It’s about us.” He lay his hand on your stomach and smiled gently. “All of us.”
Only one of the eggs took, but that was okay. Errol’s parents were overjoyed to learn they’d be getting a grandchild. Both you and Errol decided Eric could learn it on Facebook, like all the other strangers and acquaintances in your lives.
You took maternity leave so that you could pass your gestational time in relative peace. Errol fussed over you, making sure you ate properly and went with you to all your appointments. You made the decision to lay the egg at home instead of the hospital, and Errol’s sister acted as the midwife. It was the toughest work you’d ever done, and Errol was the best cheerleader you could have asked for.
Errol took paternity leave, like you had done, since he couldn’t leave the egg, anyway. He incubated the egg for the rest of the gestation period, curled up around it day and night. Errol’s son, Ewan, was born six months after being conceived, and within another year, you and Errol were married.
You often wondered if things had been different, if you had dated Errol from the beginning instead of Eric, if you’d be as overjoyed as you were at the moment. But then you figured that wondering about what ifs was a waste of time. You had a happy family to look after now, after all, and another clutch on the way. There was no time to worry about the past. The future was right in front of you.
Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!
Thanks for reading!
My Masterlist
The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist
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Any Kny character you've grown to love/appreciate more??
Thanks for waiting, Anon, I have been trying to really, really hard to narrow this down, but the answer remains: the vast majority of the cast.
The only character I loved right away was Tanjiro and that love kept me watching, as with almost every new character I was like, "ugh, I hate this guy. Here I was, having fun being emotionally invested in a high quality anime, and this might ruin it for me."
But then the instant I see a different side of their character, I'm like, "...Oh."
To go into some examples...
Zenitsu:
I could not stand him right away, I hate womanizers, and his conniptions would go on so long that they held up the story.
But Gotouge/Ufotable strung me along perfectly, the first glimpse of Thunder Breath made me immediately pay attention and think, "oh, that was cool. I want to see more of that." Seeing him protect the box pretty firmly put him in the "I need to protect this child" box in my heart. And then the spider demon happens, and I'm sending desperate reaction messages to a friend like "NOOOOOO!!!! BABBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYY!!!!"
And then he annoyed me all over again at the start of Functional Recovery, ahaha. It's hard to remember how annoyed I was because I'm such a Zen Stan now, and he was a very firm favorite of mine by the time I finished binging the anime up to the last couple episodes, which I waited for as they came out.
Inosuke:
He was one of the reasons I was curious about the series, I saw some promotional art and was super curious about Nezuko's muzzle (I was one of the people who thought it was some ancient scroll or something, haha) and the kid with the boar mask. The art I saw showed his face, and I assumed he'd be some kid with a cracking voice performed by a female seiyuu.
As much as I love Matsuoka's performance now, initially, since I knew what his face looked like, I found it grossly off-putting the moment I heard it. Then every chaotic thing Inosuke did dug a deeper hole; I very quickly decided I hated him, especially when he started beating up on the kid I was starting to like. As his chaos subsided he just became a character I tolerated, and then this happened:
Images you can hear, am I right?
This immediately flipped the "BABY" switch in my heart. It was also a lot of fun to understand the Inosuke memes I was seeing everywhere.
So by the end of the anime, I loved, loved, loved, loved the Tanjiro/Zenitsu/Inosuke interactions and desperately wanted more (still didn't like how Zenitsu bothered Nezuko, though). I was so impatient for more, but the manga art looked disappointingly off-putting. I figured the anime was successful enough that there'd eventually be more of it, and I wanted to be patient, but then I poked around, read some spoilers, got back into Tumblr to look at fanart and memes, saw a spoiler image of Tanjiro affected by Muzan's poison and the binge-read began. (That's kind of a lie, but I'll get to that.)
Let's back up a few episodes. There I was, having a great time, the guy who I forgot about from Episode 1 was back and haha, I guess everyone hates him, and the chick who I figured was going to be a medic who saves Zenitsu in the nick of time turned out to be savage, awesome. I was sending reactions to my friends who were ahead of me, and then we left off seeing the Pillars staring down Best Boy. And I...
Well.
Uh.
Here, I've dug up an old convo for you, my comments are in blue.
Immediately followed by a passionate vocal rant, which I have transcribed here:
“I feel like what happened was that the mangaka was sitting around with his assistants and was like, ‘welp, gotta make this whole cast of characters, they gotta be so-o-o-o many more levels of extreme than all the other characters I’ve had so far, which isn’t hard, because all of the background characters are cannon fodder and I’ve just gotta leave them all with black hair and no personality traits. So! Gotta go to the opposite of the spectrum with the BIG! POWERFUL! People so no-o-o-body can be normal.’ And so he and his assistants sat down, and they all wrote down just random words or traits, and them put ‘em all in a hat. And then for each character, they pulled out a few of them and said, ‘OK. We’re gonna put these things together, now we have a character.’ And he was probably also like, ‘Iiiiiiiiiiiii’ll flesh them out later. For now, they just need t’… be there, and make an impact. How do we make an impact? By making sure it’s super, super clear what their character traits are. Here, we’ll have this guy repeat the word //HADE//…. ////HA DEEE//// over and over and over… to show that he’s a /showy/ person. Because he /cares/ about that. And he //should// care because that is his character and that’s why he’s powerful.’ OH MY GOSH, it’s so dumb.”
......orz
I feel like Genya looking back at how he acted at the end of the Final Selection. I'm sorry, Gotouge, I had not even encountered your love for these characters yet in your little alligator form. Nor had I encountered the yet unseen-sides of these traumatized dragons and tigers.
...*coughs*
Um. So. I was pretty harsh.
So this was my mindset, I went into the manga not caring about most of these characters and just wanting more Kamaboko squad interactions and wanting to hurry up and catch up to the battle with Muzan. And it's worth stating that I didn't mean to read it at first. I encountered a few spoilers, and just wanted to look for the context surrounding those parts, and then hunt for the (non-existent) build-up to those parts, and so... uh.........
I read a lot of the manga out of order, and yeah, that did affect how much I cared about what was going on. I didn't actually properly process a lot of it until later re-reads. But to try to state some things simply about each Pillar:
Giyuu: He was just 'ok' to me for a long time, I could see the appeal for why people I knew were fangirling over him but he didn't do it for me. His soft spot for Tanjiro was indeed endearing, though, and I firmly liked him by the time chapter 200 came out and I was properly heartbroken on his behalf.
Shinobu: She was intriguing, and then I liked her as soon as I saw her savage side, she was one of the characters I went hunting for spoilers for.
Rengoku: That stare really put me off at first, but I fell for him over the process of Tanjiro falling for him. When I first finished the train arc I sat back and said, "wow! That's going to make for a good movie!" and then in psyching myself out for the movie several months in advance, I fell hook, line, and sinker and was totally excited for him each time I saw the trailers. And then the movie was *stunning* and I love him even more.
Uzui: He was the Pillar I hated most upon first meeting them. I blame the repeated use of his catchphrase. But then when he let his hair down to sell the kiddos the change in design helped warm me up more to him, like, "oh, there was a human in there." It took a long time for him to become more interesting to me, and an uncharacteristically subtle journey to becoming a character I liked. I am currently getting more and more psyched out for him and eager to see how much more I'm going to like him with the shiny Ufotable treatment.
Mitsuri: At first I didn't remember her name, I had code-named her as "Boobs." But I kinda had a feeling she was going to grow on me quickly, and I was right, she's one of my easy favorites now.
Muichiro: Who? Oh yeah, that kid who always kinda fell to the wayside in my attention. I'd see a lot of Muichiro-themed blogs and hear a lot of little girls looking at merch and showing a clear favoritism of him, and I'd like always react like Muichiro and just be like, "...", and then when I read his major battles I was more emotionally invested in things going on concurrently with other characters, and I was still like, "...", and then two days ago I revisited a Muichiro scene and was suddenly like, "......OH!!! MUICHIRO!!!!!"
Himejima: I never really hated Himejima, even if I found his first impression kind of wimpy (haha... oh, I was so wrong). I had a pretty easy acceptance of him too, so I would generally count him among characters I like, but if you were to ask me why, I'd draw a blank. It's kind of a weirdly mature, subdued appreciation for him rather than passionate fangirling. But weirdly when I was daydreaming the other day I found myself thinking, "if I had to marry someone in the KnY cast, it would be Himejima." So like, not a fiery romance, but I see him as my dependable, sturdy rock to grow old with??? What is up with you, sub-conscious??
Iguro: My interest in him rises and falls. Being a Mitsuri fan helped warm me up to his character in the first place, which was the emotional tie I needed since his backstory didn't grip me much (I found it a frustrating distraction while I was desperately reading weekly updates). Reading more subtle details about his character in the fanbooks has brought me around and made me more curious about him, like I'd really like to be a fly on the wall for the conversation he had with Uzui one day about their pasts.
Sanemi: Hahaha, wow. He was so unlikable in the beginning, wasn't he? His character design (yeah, the eyes) was really off-putting too. But then I got to know him and there was no going back, I got totally played. He's a character I'm pretty fond of now and one of the characters I've enjoyed delving into most in fanfic.
To keep this answer from getting too long, for the vaaaaaast majority of the cast, I was initially like, "meh" or "OK" or "ew" but now am like, "EEEEEEEEE, I LOVE THIS TOTALLY RANDOM UNIMPORTANT SIDE CHARACTERRRRRRR" so you know... times change. And the more time I spend obsessed with Kimetsu no Yaiba, the more I like them all, so even the characters I'm lukewarm on will probably have their eventual days when they take over my heart and smash it.
#what do I even tag this?#it's not meta or nerdery#it's just me being a fangirl#Kimetsu no Yaiba#Demon Slayer
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secret santa
pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader
a/n: this is so self indulgent. SO SELF INDULGENT. more self indulgent than anyone will ever be able to comprehend. before u all read this, i want u to know it was originally supposed to be about training ransom at a job, but then i realized that i nothing about 1. working at a coffee shop and 2. training an employee. also, i am the worst at writing dialogue. so i didn’t write a lot of dialogue LMAO enjoy :)
also, half of this was written at 1 am. just a warning
warnings: coffee shop au, enemies (kinda) to lovers, a lil fluff, not really angst but bitter feelings, kinda slow burn and then all the sudden a fast burn i’m sorry 😭
word count: 2.6k
You woke up to the sound of your alarm rumbling your bedside table sometime around the asscrack of dawn, and rubbed your eyes with a groan. Sometimes, you really couldn’t stand your job, but bills didn’t really pay themselves, did they? You rolled out of bed, and began your dreaded morning routine before heading out to start your opening shift at your local café.
Somewhere between warming up the espresso machine and taking out last night’s trash (which you shouldn’t have had to do in the first place), an older, yet expensive looking car pulled up to the front of the parking lot. You were a bit confused, as you’d never seen this vehicle, and it was quite clear that you weren’t exactly open yet. You watched as a tall man hopped out of the car, wearing a large peacoat and very unnecessary sunglasses. He approached the door, gave it a knock, then waited for you to come open it for him. Reluctantly, you made your way over, and in order to keep yourself safe, began to speak through the glass.
“Can I help you?” You asked in an annoyed tone, then gestured towards the piece of paper that labeled your hours on the door. There was no reason for any customer to be here this early. You looked up at the mystery man and made a rather intense eye contact with him. If this was any indicator of your crowd today, work was going to be far from pleasant.
“Yeah, I was told that I’m starting today?” He had a wicked smirk on his face, like he knew he was getting under your skin already. You hated people like him, and couldn’t believe that he could possibly be your coworker. On the bright side, he probably wouldn’t last long in the first place.
“Well, are you sure you’re here on time? I can’t see any situation where Melissa would schedule to open for your very first shift.” You commented with a furrowed brow.
“Eh, I kinda just figured I’d come in whenever. The girl in my bed was an early riser, so I thought to myself ‘Why not just come in now?’” He said casually.
“Your name?” You inquired, trying to keep your annoyance to yourself, and put on a customer service smile.
“Hugh, or Ransom,” he responded. You turned around, allowed yourself a huff and eye roll, then walked through the kitchen, and into the break room to check if he truly was a new employee, or just some random creep. Sure enough, a bright pink post-it note in very neat handwriting confirmed this man’s existence. You made your way back to the door, unlocked it, and let him in.
“Since you’re here, you should… set down the chairs,” you told him, less than entertained by his presence. You could just tell he was bad news. This Ransom guy was like the textbook definition of a red flag. He talked your ear off while you tried to get through your opening routine, some casual remarks about his last hookup, complaints about how he only got this job because his mother was a regular and good friends with your manager, and how he was threatened to get cut out of his grandfather’s will if he didn’t get employed soon, and what better way to spite your family than to mess up their daily coffees.
Eventually, a few more of your coworkers, along with your manager, Melissa, made it to the café before the morning rush began. You were sitting down at your typical barstool spot, and sipping an iced Americano when Melissa broke the news to you that you would be training the new employee. Upon hearing the news, you audibly groaned, and rubbed your forehead. There was no way that you could handle this man.
-------
During his first week, Ransom not only managed to offer (and successfully give) six customers his phone number, break two mugs, mess up more orders than even Euclid could comprehend, and spill straws a multitude of times all over the floor, but he began to flirt with you relentlessly. You had no idea why you’d become his new target of choice, when it was clear that he could have literally anyone he wanted. Maybe he liked that you were playing hard to get.
If you were being honest, you had to accept that he was handsome. And rich. And the definition of a fuckboy. And since you were being frank with yourself, you had to acknowledge that you were attracted to that ‘toxic and will treat you like shit’ kind of guy. You had a roster of ex boyfriends to prove that for you.
---
It was a pretty slow Tuesday afternoon, which meant you were sitting on your phone until a customer placed an order. Eventually, the little bell above the door chimed, and an older man came through, ordering a dark and bitter drink, then standing by the counter to wait. You began to restock lids while Ransom took care of making the drink, and once it was ready, you passed it over to the man. The man in question took a rather large sip, then promptly spat it out.
“What the fuck is this!” He roared, barely giving you time to react before he proceeded to toss the drink at you, spilling most of the hot content on your apron.
You gasped, gawking down at your scorched and ruined clothing, then up at the customer, who’d turned around with a huff and left, leaving a stream of strong language on his way out. You bit back tears at the whole fiasco, and cringed as both the steamy drink, and your salty tears stung different parts of your body. You turned to look at the barista, who had passed you along the drink, and were met with no other than the white devil himself. It seemed that all the blood had drained from his already otherwise pale face.
“Oh my god, this is all my fault,” he began remorsefully. “Let me make it up to you somehow.”
“Whatever,” you huffed, running a hand through your hair, and shoving Ransom angrily while you more or less stomped into the staff bathroom.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and frowned before bringing up your bundled apron to your face and screaming into it. Stupid fucking customers. Stupid fucking job. Stupid fucking Ransom. It’s like he came to your job just to make it hell. You were tired of cleaning up all these messes for him, and honestly, you wish he’d just quit already. The longer you worked with him, the more tempted you were to pour sugar in his gas tank, then take a club and break all the windows in the Beemer.
------
For the next month, your brain was completely elsewhere at work. Your brain was constantly going back and forth with you between finding Ransom hot and horrendous. While the pair of you finished up closing one night, you heard your coworker begin to speak to you as you placed your hand on the keys in your pocket.
“I know you hate me, Y/N. I get it. What that guy did to you was awful, and yes it was my fault, but what else have I done to hurt you?” He asked, seemingly out of the blue. You weren’t even sure how to respond. Ignoring the man and demonizing him in your head had become almost a second nature. “I mean, I think we could’ve been good friends. Even though you seem to think I’m devil incarnate, I think you’re a pretty cool chick-“ he continued before being cut off by you.
“Why do you even care?” you burst out, “Ransom, you just don’t get it do you? You’re just.. a douchebag. I get it, you have your moments where you’re candid and open with people, but half of the time you’re talking, you’re objectifying someone. Or bragging about something you own. Don’t get me wrong, I could get past what you did to me on accident, but you seriously have to work on yourself,” the words just seemed to pour out without your control. “Goodnight, Ransom,” you said simply before leaving the café for the night.
——
Since that day, the tension between you and Ransom had evidently become more thick. Since he was finally finished training with you, you made sure to only speak to him if you absolutely needed to, and even then, you only communicated with him in brief and straightforward answers. Sure, it seemed like a small thing to be upset about, and sure, he’d apologized, but something told you that any excuse to stay away from Ransom was a good excuse.
Though he appeared to be an immoral and selfish man, he seemed genuinely sorry for all that he’d put you through. Occasionally, you’d be sitting in the break room and look up from your phone to see him watching you. When you’d make eye contact, he would look like he wanted to say something to you, but your petty ass would leave, or look back at your phone. He was bad news anyway.
Your boss quickly caught onto what was going on between the two of you, and usually, Melissa didn’t like to participate in petty drama, but your new sour mood was such a stark contrast from before, and it seemed to shift the whole mood of the café.
That afternoon, Melissa called for a team meeting a bit before closing, and suggested a family dinner along with a Secret Santa. She’d said something along the lines of ‘It’s been way too long since we’ve done a team bonding activity, and a gift exchange is perfectly fitting for the Holiday season.’ This did make you perk up, as Melissa had a great taste in restaurants, and you were always down for a good gift exchange.
Melissa then told everyone to write their names down, then put them in a decorative Santa hat. You and your coworkers obliged, then began to pass around the hat once again in order to draw a name. You really hoped to get Xavier. You had the perfect idea of something he’d love. As you drew a piece of paper from the hat, you imagined the matching pair of fluffy socks for a human and dog that you’d passed by during your last trip to Target. You began to unfold it, thinking of what color he might like the most, when you looked down and saw ‘Ransom’ drawn out in chicken scratch.
You tried your best to mask your annoyance at who you received, but on the inside, you were seething. You mentally cursed the universe out while you pulled on your coat, and grimaced to yourself once you got out to your car. How were you supposed to get this asshole a gift?
—-
The week leading up to the exchange went fairly well for you, although it was getting a bit exhausting to be so mad at Ransom all the time. You tried to be less harsh with him, considering you needed to learn more about him in order to get him a somewhat decent gift for your exchange.
He’d seem to have taken your conversation with him to heart, and began to talk less and less about other girls when he was working with you. He didn’t comment on how well your jeans fit you, and you noticed that he’d often overextend himself in order to help you with (pretty basic) daily aspects of the job. Ransom would ask you questions about yourself, and your family, and speak less about himself. If you were honest with yourself, he was becoming a better man. And the best part was, he seemed to be doing it just for you. The thought of which brought heat to your face.
—
On the night of the exchange, you threw on a hideous and scratchy Christmas sweater before picking up your neatly wrapped gift for Ransom. You truly hoped that he’d like it, even though it certainly wasn’t the most expensive item. You bid farewell to your cat, then went on your way to the restaurant. You had to admit, you were a bit late. So it should’ve been no surprise when you arrived, and found that the only seat left at the table was next to Ransom. You gave him a cordial smile before sitting down and ordering yourself a glass of Merlot.
Something about being so close to him was kind of riling you up. The strong timbre sent coming off of him was making your whole body feel slightly warmer than normal, and you tried to ignore this strange sensation while you talked and joked with your coworkers. At one point, Ransom leaned in nice and close to you, and began to speak to you.
“Jesus Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as hideous as Karmen’s sweatshirt,” he whispered right into the shell of your ear. Maybe it was the wine talking, but that simple action sent a whole chill through your body, and made you flush even harder than you’d flushed before. You let out a little giggle and nodded in agreement, looking across the table at her very ugly sweater.
“To be fair, the whole point of this was to wear something really ugly,” you turned your head back to where it was before, only to find that Ransom had somehow moved even closer to you.
“I just don’t know where you find something like that,” he commented, gazing much too deep into your eyes. You swore you felt the room shift after he began looking at you like that. There was about a 20% chance that you’d be able to keep your panties on after this kind of exchange. Luckily for you, a waitress broke the tension for you, setting down a few plates for everyone, then bidding them farewell. Damn.
The food was amazing, and didn’t last very long, meaning that it was time to pass gifts around sooner than later. You watched as Amy received a gift card from Sophie, Emily opened a plethora of chocolates gifted to her by Melissa, and Xander whiffed a candle given to him by Kennedy, then, it was your turn. You glanced around the table before you felt the arm next to you reach down, then hand you an oversized gift bag.
“I hope you like it,” Ransom said with a shy smile. You casually felt your cheeks on your way to pull out the very large item. You found it was a very large, and soft, hand knit blanket. It looked like it could’ve cost a small fortune, and you immediately found yourself embarrassed.
“Oh wow. This is perfect! Thank you so much,” you grinned over at your coworker, who seemed to be blushing himself. “Well, I guess I should probably give you this then,” you chuckled awkwardly before passing him your wrapped package. He tore it open barbarically, then began to laugh. Of all the gifts in the world, you two had gotten each other somewhat similar items. Sure, it wasn’t hand knit with the love of some grandma who ran a small business on Etsy, but it was the thought that counts.
“I love it, Y/N,” he exclaimed, looking deep into your eyes once again. He ran his fingers through the soft fabric, then set a hand on your arm. In that moment, it felt like time stopped. It was just you two, sitting in a quiet room, enjoying the presence of each other. You don’t even know what had gotten into you, but before you knew it, you felt a nose pressed up against yours, and a billion butterflies erupt out of your stomach. You heard a few grimaces from your coworkers at the sappy, Hallmark-like moment but what could you say.
Maybe Ransom was not that bad after all.
#ransom thrombey x you#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom thrombey x reader#ransom drysdale x you#knives out fanfic#hey i wrote that lol
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Rose (Bakugou x Reader)
Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst to slight fluff
Summary: Bakugou has a crush on you and uses Kirishima’s party as the perfect time to confess. He’s practiced so many times, but things don’t go according to plan.
Inspo: “Forever Now” by Ne-yo and this TikTok
Word count: 2,241
Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog��
a/n: I think y’all have been too spoiled with all the fluff I’m putting out, it’s time you start crying and screaming.
Also I tried something new with this. I put it in Bakugou’s POV, so for the first time in all my posts, I’ve actually had to use (y/n). It feels so weird! In all my past writing I use OCs, but this fandom loves (y/n) so much.
I think it’s pretty canon that Explosion boy has a secret inferiority complex, so I tried to channel that here too (aka slight cursing warning? But it’s baku, it’s implied) Enjoy!
Alright, dumbass, you're doing this tonight whether you're ready or not.
My reflection stares back at me in the mirror as I ruffle my hair for the who-knows-how-many time in the past hour. I need to put in the extra effort to look particularly handsome tonight. Instead of going in jeans and a shirt like I always do, I chose a white button down, black jeans, a black belt and all black sneakers. I triple checked my breath and sprayed myself with deodorant twice for good measure. Nothing can ruin this, nothing should ruin this.
I hope.
"No, idiot!" I point at my reflection. "You gotta believe you got this! She's gonna be blown away by how hot you look and how suave you are!" I take deep breath and adjust the collar of my shirt. "You're the man. Why wouldn't she like you? You're a catch." I pause, realizing what I'm doing. "Fucking moron!" I growl, convincing myself I'm not crazy for talking to myself.
I grab my bomber jacket hanging from my doorknob, a rose already tucked in the inside pocket. I'm confessing my feelings for her today, it's now or never.
Ever since Kirishima dared us to kiss a few weeks ago at lunch as part of a game, I can't get her out of my head. Her lips just mold so perfectly against mine. I would've kept going if she hadn't pulled away and we had to play it cool afterwards. Even before that, I guess I had feelings for her. A girl that can be affectionate, can hold her own in a fight, and can put me in my place with a sharp tongue; that's the kind of girl she is. With such a great personality, she could have anyone she wants, I just hope she chooses me too.
I shake my head, dispersing those thoughts. I have to believe she's interested in me too. We have good chemistry, even Kirishima agrees that we would be explosive together. I can feel her sometimes get nervous around me, light up a little brighter when she sees me.
Soon enough, I find myself outside Kirishima's place, the faint sound of bass bumping leaking from behind the door. I take a deep breath and let myself in, the background music hitting me first and the smell of sweat second. Everyone's gathered into their separate groups at different corners of the room. (Y/n)'s with Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari near the snack table, so I slip over.
"Woooow Bakugou! You cleaned up nicely!" Ashido squeals as I approach them.
As all of their eyes turn to me, I tug at my shirt collar again. "Yeah, yeah, shut up about it. I just didn't wanna look like a bum."
"You look great, dude," Kirishima shoots me an 'ok' gesture.
"Brooo, if I were a chick, I'd bang you," Kaminari slurs, leaning into me.
"Hands off, dude," I push him away from me. "What's up with him? Did Jirou taze him again or something?"
"He's had a few too many drinks," Mina shakes her head at him.
(Y/n) snorts, taking a sip from her plastic cup, "I smell gay panic."
"I'm not gay!" I scream a little too defensively.
"There's no need to hide it, Bakugou, we'd still support you," she continues with her teasing, looking me dead in the eyes with her suave glance.
For a moment, I'm tongue-tied and my heart skips a beat. I cough to cover it up. "Good to know, but sadly for Kirishima, I'm not into guys."
"Hey!" the redhead pouts and Ashido pats his shoulder comfortingly.
We continue talking about whatever. I don't miss the few times (y/n) sneaks a glance at me. Maybe it inflates my ego, but I'm relieved she noticed, especially since I dressed up for her. It's a good sign, maybe things will go well later.
The only annoyance is the way Kaminari's messy behavior, throwing himself all around and slurring. It clearly puts off everyone, (y/n) included. The good part is that he's making a fool of himself and (y/n) scoots over closer to me to avoid him.
"Is that dumbass getting on your nerves? I'll destroy him for you," I whisper to her.
"No, it's fine, he's just having a good time," she responds, scooting a little closer to me until our arms touch. She bites her lip before adding, "You look really handsome today. Did you finally look through your closet for once?"
I shove her with my shoulder. "I have someone I wanted to impress."
She quirks an eyebrow and smirks at me. "So you are gay for Kirishima?"
It's so hard for me to be angry at her when she looks at me like that. It doesn't help that she looks amazing too. Her leather pants hug her curves and her velvet black crop top exposes just enough stomach. "How can I be gay when you're standing right here?"
Her body shifts towards me. "I guess I should take that as a compliment?"
"What do you think?" I lean in closer to her. The flowery scent of her perfume fills my nose and it takes everything I have to not kiss her right there.
She glances down at my lips for a moment, biting her own. "I think I wanna dance." Finishing whatever's left in her cup, she grabs my arm and brings me to the middle of the room where I hadn't even realized everyone else in our group was dancing. Jirou had stolen Kaminari away to dance with his drunk ass and Kirishima's with Ashido.
I start stepping to the music with (y/n). I'll admit I'm not the best at this, I don't even know what to do with my hands. Can I put them on her waist? On her hips? Is she cool with me touching her at all? She senses my hesitation and places me hands just above her hips where the exposed skin is. Surprisingly, it's warm despite being out in the open.
"What's got you so tense?" she smirks at me as she sways her hips to the music.
I smirk back at her. "Just wanted to make sure you can handle me touching you."
As we continue moving to the music, her arms wrap around my neck, bringing us closer together and my heart pounds. "You look beautiful," I half-yell in her ear over the noise.
"Thanks." She pauses before adding, "I was joking about the Kirishima thing."
I lower my hands to her hips, making sure not to touch anywhere else by accident. "I know. He's not the one I'm trying to impress."
I watch as she bites her lip and looks down at mine. Her body almost instinctively leans into me, letting me feel her. My head spins out of control. Now, idiot! Now's the time to do it. My throat feels dry, the words I've rehearsed countless times failing to come out.
The thought of rejection enters my mind and I freeze up. I'm not ready, I can't do this. "I'll be back, I'm getting a drink." I unwrap my arms from around her warmth. She blinks, seemingly dazed, and I escape, trying not to reveal how nervous I am.
I lean over the table, suddenly nauseous and cold all over. Idiot! You just blew your chance! That was the perfect time! I stuff pretzels in my mouth, cursing myself as I try to relieve my anger by crunching something.
"Whoa, are you good, dude?" Kirishima approaches me, an eyebrow quirked. "I thought you and (y/n) were getting it on dancing well?"
I growl, "I chickened out, I couldn't do it."
My best friend crosses his arms. "Come on, dude, grow a pair and just say it. Like ripping a bandage off." His face lights up. "I know. You just need some liquid courage." He pours me a shot of whatever these idiots managed to smuggle in here into a smaller plastic cup. "Down the hatch! I'll link back up with you in a sec. Good luck!" He pats my head and flashes a shark-toothed grin before heading somewhere else.
I don't even bother looking inside it before gulping the whole thing down in one shot, the liquid leaving a burning trail as it slides down my throat. Scrunching my eyes and shaking the pain away, I let out a whoop of confidence and take the rose from my jacket. I take a deep to calm my nerves again. "Let's do this," I chant, turning around.
And I wish I hadn't.
Kaminari's lips are against her's. And she's not pushing him away.
My entire body grows cold, everything in slow motion and muted as I watch them. I drop the stupid rose and run outside, slamming the door behind me. My breaths heave in my chest as I try to control my emotions. White hot fury, regret, and misery mix in my veins and my head becomes too heavy to bear. I feel like punching something and crying at the same time. I don't know who I'm more angry at. Kaminari for being a drunken asshole? Me for chickening out and ruining a perfect confession? (Y/n) for kissing him and leading me on this entire time?
I lean against the wall, clutching for something to hold onto as the world spins under my emotions. The thing that grounds me is the sound of the door opening.
"Bakugou?" her voice follows against the music. "Kiri said you ran out-"
My instincts act before I can stop myself, fueled by rage. I push her up against the wall with a thump. "What the fuck was that?" I growl from low in my throat. She freezes, knowing she was caught. "Why were you kissing that idiot? And why didn't you push him away?"
Her broken face betrays no words, she barely even wants to look at me, frustrating me eve more.
"Damnit!" I roar, slamming my hand into the wall next to her head, making her flinch. "I know you like me. Either that or you're leading me on for your own entertainment. Tell me the truth or I'm walking away."
(Y/n) finally lifts her head and stares into my eyes. She looks almost as emotional as I do. "Denki and me... We were together before!" She screws her eyes closed. "Things we just not working out, and when we broke up, I thought we were fine. We were both cool with it. But he was a drunken mess and he was crying about how much he missed me out of nowhere and I was just overwhelmed, okay!" She's shaking now, but manages to open her eyes and shoot me a malicious glare. "And how can you be angry?! I thought we were having a great time dancing and getting closer to each other and then you pull away! What was I supposed to think? I took that as a rejection!"
I groan out and scream, "I fucked up, I know!" My hand collides with the wall again, lolling my head onto her shoulder, breathing in her scent again. A mix of her and my anger makes me snap my head back up and grab her shoulders. "I... (Y/n)." My words won't come out, and I growl again. "I fucking like you! That's what I should've said and all this would've been avoided! I should've fucking kissed you when I had the chance!"
With that, I angrily smash my lips to her's. She tastes slightly of alcohol and the cherries I remember from our kiss a week ago. "I wanted to be the only one kissing you tonight," I murmur, crushing her into the wall with my body and attacking her again.
My heart skips a beat when she pulls me by my collar, moving her hands up and grabbing my nape, nails slightly digging into my skin. She kisses me just as angrily and passionately, each of us trying to dominate the other. Our kisses become sloppy as the heat rises between us, trying to nip at each other, me ultimately winning and capturing her swollen bottom lip between my teeth.
I push her away, both of us panting for breath. "Well? Are you just gonna kiss me or are you gonna say something?"
Her face turns a deeper shade of red. "I-I like you too. Stupid."
The way she's so flustered almost melts the anger out of me, but her acceptance of my feelings is what completely erases it. I clear my throat. "Good. So now you're mine. And if I catch that electric idiot trying to kiss you again, I'm pounding his face in."
She shoots me a look. "You don't have to act so tough. I know you're just insecure."
My face heats up. "Shut up, idiot. I'm not sharing you with anyone, that's all." I remember the rose and start frantically patting my jacket for it, until I look down and see it slightly worse for wear. I pick it up and cough. "God, I rehearsed this so well and look what happened."
(Y/n) plucks the flower out of my hand and pecks my cheek with a grin. "I think it was a lot hotter this way."
I chuckle. "You're right," I sneak my hands to her hips again, like it's become a new routine, "I'm not cut out for that vanilla bullshit anyway."
#bakugou x reader#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#bakugou angst#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bakugou imagine#bakugou scenario#female reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction
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Heathers | Sweet Pea
A/N: Last part! I hope you guys enjoyed this and that it’s all you hoped for. I think Riverdale ruined the musical for a lot of people. I mean, I didn’t even know about Heathers until the episode of Riverdale and back then I was like ‘WTF is this???’ but then I started watching Carrie Hope Fletcher’s vlogs about her being Veronica in Heathers and I decided to give the album a listen and it’s SO GOOD? Like I’m offically obsessed with it. I’m just sad you can’t watch a good quality video of either the off-Broadway version or the West End version. Not gonna lie, I did watch part of the shitty quality bootleg on YouTube, but it’s just not quite the same is it?
Anyway, hope you enjoy this last part!
Also, GIF has nothing to do with this part, I just love Christian Slater as JD and this is one of my fav quotes for some reason, along with “Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling”.
Act one - Act two - Act three - Act four - Act five - Act six
Words: 4002
Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader
Warnings: panic attack, cursing, sexually tinted scenes
Act six: Seventeen
I was right not entirely trusting ‘Stoner chick’ and ‘Preppy kid’. The next day, I get a text from Margot, telling me to meet them at Pop’s before school. I’m not entirely sure what to think of it until I enter the diner and find Margot and Ella in a booth with Sweet Pea. A bunch of nerves sets in my stomach. I feel like I’m going to hurl. So, before they can even see me, I run into the restrooms. There, I try to calm myself down. My hands grip at the cold sink until my knuckles turn white. When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I’d never seen my eyes as dark as they are now.
“You can do this,” I tell myself, “You’re Veronica Sawyer for Christ’s sake.” One talk with a boy will not change anything. I’ve been able to have a steamy scene with him and kiss him multiple times on stage, why can’t I just do this one thing? This doesn’t make any sense. I’m not making any sense. After heaving in a deep breath, I gather all my courage and walk back into the diner.
“Hey, guys,” I greet, trying to play off the fact that I’d just had a mental breakdown in the restroom. All three of them look up at me. My friends get this wide, bright smile on their faces while Sweet Pea’s lips curl up into a more tender smile. A very cute smile, I might add.
“Hey, Y/N!” Ella exclaims overexcitedly. “Join us!” She points at the seat next to Sweet Pea, and without asking anything else, I slide in next to him. Then Margot claps in her hands while Ella places hers on the table as if she’s getting up.
“We’ve got to motor though. So…” Margot trails off suggestively. “Have fun!” and without getting another word in, both my friends have dashed off and out of the diner. I stare at their empty seats for a moment before turning to the tall guy next to me.
“What a terrible set-up,” I say to him, chuckling. Then my eyes widen when I realize how bad that sounds. “Not that the company’s terrible, just the way they did it was terrible. You’re cool,” I ramble, then sigh when I finally shut up. Sweet Pea sniggers beside me, and when I look up at him, he has that same adorable smile on his face he had when I walked in.
“I went ahead and ordered you a vanilla milkshake,” he slides the glass of white goodness towards me. “Margot did drink from it already though; hope you don’t mind.” I roll my eyes. Typical Margot.
“Nah, it’s fine. We share lots of things,” mental face palm, “Wait, that sounds so wrong.”
“Calm down, Y/N,” Sweet Pea says, grabbing my hands, “Why are you so nervous all of a sudden? You’re never this nervous in rehearsals?” A lump forms in my throat and I really have to try hard to swallow it. “Are you okay?” I look into his eyes to try and find calmness again. Then, I heave in another deep breath and begin my ramble.
“IjustlikeyoualotSweetPea, but I’m scared it’s going to change the musical completely somehow or you don’t like me back or you think I’m weird or you’re going to distract me from going to drama school or you’re going to break my heart or Reggie’s going to break your face or… Something like that…” I look up again to find him staring intensely at me. “You don’t like me, let’s go for that.” I nod my head and prepare to get up, but Sweet Pea grabs me by my arm and pulls me back down.
“I do like you back, Y/N. But you might be right about it changing the musical. And besides, you don’t want to be with me. Being a gang is a dangerous lifestyle and I don’t want to drag you into that.” A relief washes over me. It’s not exactly what I’d hoped for. But at least I know he likes me back.
“So, we agree that this just isn’t the right time for us to start something?” I ask, just to be sure.
“Yeah, I guess so… Maybe in a few months or years when we bump into one another in a bar in New York or something,” he smiles a happy smile.
“You really think I’ll get to New York?” He nods in response, and from there, my complete outburst has been long forgotten and we’re chatting about the future. About my future in Musical Theatre and Sweet Pea’s possible appliance to some community colleges.
It’s a relief nothing really changes between us. We’re on the same page about us being a thing. It’s just the wrong place, wrong time. But still, I can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kiss him. Thank heavens I get to tomorrow night on stage without any strings attached.
“Are you ready for the show?” Sweet Pea’s voice makes me jump as he’d walked into the dressing room I shared with the Heathers. The girls had already left, and I was alone until a few seconds ago. Since I got dressed and ready, I started stress-reading and stress-singing all of my lines whilst pacing the room, just to make sure all of the lines were still in my head. Playing Veronica Sawyer was a dream, but there’s so much I need to remember and so much I could possibly forget.
“No, I don’t think I know any of my lines, my dress is starting to itch, I’m not sure where I left my diary or the pen or the note I have to give to miss Fleming at the start. When do I go on again? And what are we going to do about Dead Girl Walking because I kind of liked our choreography more than Kevin’s and I—” Before I can even finish the last sentence, I’m shut up by his soft lips pressed to mine. I’m startled at first, but once I realize what happens, I relax a little more. My rapidly beating heart slows down again and air is pushed back into my lungs.
“You need to calm down, Y/N. Dress rehearsal last night was more than amazing. You know the script by heart, you are Veronica Sawyer. And if you want, we could still do Dead Girl Walking the way we did it the first time. Fuck Kevin’s comments,” he smiles a little as he holds onto my cheeks to force me to look into his eyes. It only relaxes me more, thankfully. “You’re Veronica Sawyer,” he repeats.
“Yeah, it’s going to be fine,” I sigh, nodding my head in agreement.
“We start in two minutes!” Kevin’s voice sounds from the hallway. Sweet Pea reaches his hand out for me and I take it. He leads me towards the door and then we go to the wings where all of our other co-stars are. Ella and Margot give me a little smile, knowing how nervous I was, and when they see my hand in Sweet Pea’s, their smile turns into a smirk. So, I let go of his hand and walk up to them to talk a bit before we have to get on.
“Break a leg,” Sweet Pea tells me before I have to go on for Beautiful. And then, before I know it, we’re already on Dead Girl Walking. To say I’m nervous about what Sweet Pea’s going to do is an understatement. I sing every line, hit the high notes and belts perfectly, and then I’m already in JD’s room. The nerves are building in the pit of my stomach. But then Sweet Pea’s voice calms me down.
“Veronica? What are you doing in my room?” I shush him exaggeratingly.
“Sorry but I really had to wake you
See, I decided I must ride you 'til I break you
'Cause Heather says I gots to go
You're my last meal on death row
Shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys!
Come on!” I strip myself of the blue blazer before continuing to sing. Everything is a complete blur until I’m straddling him and we’re full-on making out. I’m so lost in the kiss that I almost forget I need to sing more.
“YEAH!
Full steam ahead
Take this dead girl walking!”
"How'd you find my address?"
“Let's break the bed!
Rock this dead girl walking!”
"I think you tore my mattress!"
“No sleep tonight for you
Better chug that Mountain Dew!”
"Okay, okay"
“Get your ass in gear
Make this whole town disappear”
"Okay, okay!"
“Slap me, pull my hair
Touch me
There and there and there
And no more talking!”
We do exactly how we did it the first time in rehearsals. The second Sweet Pea tugs at my top to open it, there’s loud uproar in the audience and cheers coming from the wings too. It only charges my confidence to nail those last high notes and belts.
“Whoa!
Love this dead girl walking!”
For the rest of the first half of the show, I don’t trip over any lines and don’t forget any. Having Sweet Pea by my side almost constantly calms my nerves down. And the extreme uproar my top coming undone caused powered my confidence for the rest of the show. The only disadvantage to all of this, is that I realize I want to be with Sweet Pea all the time. And be with him. As in be his, kiss him without it being a scene, hold his hand, hug him. I want to be able to kiss him like he kissed me in the dressing room just moments before the show started.
“You did great, Y/N!” Sweet Pea tells me at the start of the interval.
“I can’t do this, Noah. Either we have to be together or I don’t want to see you anymore after tonight,” I tell him, and look in his eyes to find an answer. I only see confusion and sadness. Nothing that even indicates he wants the same. “Just, don’t make it harder than it already is,” I say before turning around and getting to my dressing room.
“Are you okay?” Betty asks when she sees the tears running down my cheeks. All three of the girls rush towards me when her question just makes me break down more, and they embrace me as if they’re protecting me from something.
“He doesn’t want to be with me,” I sob out. One of the girls rubs my back soothingly.
“What makes you think that?” Cheryl asks, knowing exactly who I’m talking about. I think everyone knows who I’m talking about. It was probably very obvious what was happening. They probably knew before I did. “That boy is crazy about you.”
“I told him I either want to be with him or I don’t ever want to see him again after tonight, and he just stood there with that sheepish smile as if he felt sorry for me,” I manage to bring out between ugly sobs. The girls only wrap their arms tighter around me.
“Did he actually say that he felt sorry for you or that he didn’t want to be with you?” Veronica asks me, her voice soft and soothing.
“No…” I trail off, “But I mean… It was pretty much written all over his face.” I wipe at my tears, knowing all too well I’ll have to redo my makeup after I’ve stopped sobbing.
“I think you ought to talk to him,” Betty says, “Like Cheryl said, the boy’s crazy about you. It would surprise me he’d say something like that.” The blonde girl then cups my cheeks and tilts my head, so I’m looking directly at her. “Here’s what you’re going to do, you’re going to rock the second half of this show as Veronica Sawyer because, girl, there’s no one else who could play her better than you. Then after the show, you go talk to Sweet Pea and become the happy couple you’re supposed to be.”
“But he told me before right now is bad timing. We agreed not to date since it was bad timing,” I explain, remembering our conversation at Pop’s.
“But you changed your mind, didn’t you?” Cheryl asks, her eyebrows raised in hopes I would catch on. “So, maybe he changed his mind too?” The realization begins to sink in that I might have been a little rash into deciding he doesn’t want the same as me. I should’ve let him talk instead of trying to find the answer in his eyes.
“You might be right,” I say and wipe the last tears away, “I’ll talk to him after the show.” I nod my head determinedly and the girls let go of me.
“Yeah, you better blow him up first before talking to him,” Veronica jokes, making all of us chuckle a little. This musical is crazy. I knew it was when I saw it off-Broadway and when I saw the 80’s movie a few years ago. But I love it, nonetheless.
“Let’s fix this make-up first,” Betty then suggests. Cheryl guides me to the chair in front of my mirror and they begin redoing my make-up for me. We chat about how great the first half of the show was and how much they loved that Sweet Pea and I did what we did in rehearsals during Dead Girl Walking. I bet them and Margot, Ella and Jodi were the ones cheering in the wings. Maybe all of them did, I’m not entirely sure.
“Break a leg!” Betty says to me when we’re back in the wings after the interval. Then, Kevin gives us our cue to go on. It’s just me and Sweet Pea now, just before Ram and Kurt’s funeral.
“There’s been a lack of girls climbing through my bedroom window lately,” Sweet Pea says after I’d sung a different version of Seventeen, which is a song we still have to sing and to say I’m nervous about it is, yet again, an understatement.
“Take a hint,” I reply, clearly upset about the fact we killed Heather Chandler and the two jocks now.
“Okay, you’re mad, I get it.” He walks closer to me until he’s in the spot that’s focused on me, mostly.
“No, I don’t think you do. “Ich luge” bullets? You lied to me.”
“You were lying to yourself, you wanted them dead too.”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not!” We’re arguing like little children until Sweet Pea raises his hands in defense.
“Hey! Did they make you cry?” he then asks when he’s mere inches away from me.
“Yes,” I respond, furrowing my eyebrows.
“Can they make you cry now?” he gives me a suggestive look like JD would’ve done.
“No, but you can,” and you did – but that has nothing to do with this musical.
“Just wait until you see the good that comes of this.” I turn to face the audience, looking over each of the attendants’ heads as to not get distracted by my parents sitting there or the other jocks or anyone else.
“No, nothing good could possibly come of this,” I tell him, wagging my finger without looking at him.
“Call me an optimist,” he raises his arms sideways.
And then I get to say one of my favorite lines from the movie, “Dear diary; my teen-angst bullshit has a body count.” The audience laughs as church music is played through the speakers. Sweet Pea grabs my hand and leads me towards the benches that were placed while the others come onto the stage too for the funeral scene. During this scene, I only have to sing back-up vocals for Dead Gay Son, and it gives me the time to think of some other stuff. Like the lines I’ll have to say after this or what I’m going to say to Sweet Pea when all this is over. Before I know it, the funeral scene is over and it’s Sweet Pea and me all alone again. For a while I go on automatic pilot with my lines until the volume of his voice grows and startles me.
“Evil fucks that make life so unbearable that you can’t even stand to live in the world anymore?!”
“JD?” He looks at me, and I pause for a moment to think or to pretend to think because I know my line. “How did your mother die?” I then ask. Sweet Pea stares at me for a second, then, in frustration, rubs hand over his chin.
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah,” I reply because I have to.
“My dad said it was an accident. But she knew what she was doing,” he steps forward, “She stepped into that building two minutes before dad blew it up. She waved at me out the window and then…” he imitates an explosion with his hands whilst saying, “Ka-boom…” I heave in a deep breath and then sniffle as if I’m crying.
“I’m so sorry. I—” but he interrupts me with his next line.
“It’s okay. The pain gives me clarity,” then his voice grows louder again, “You and I are special, we have a lot of work to do.”
“What work?” I ask, my voice breaking.
“Making the world decent for people who are decent!” he shouts again, making me flinch slightly.
“When does it end?” I ask as I walk up to him, but then he leans forward and his voice is so loud that it even scares me a little, even though I know this is supposed to happen.
“When every asshole is dead!” he screams it right in my face. I flinch a little, but then push him away in pure frustration and anger. The music for Seventeen starting makes it even more dramatic.
“Fine, we're damaged
Really damaged
But that does not make us wise
We're not special, we're not different
We don't choose who lives or dies”
My voice sounds angry and a little gravely, but it makes the song even better somehow. For the next verse, I sing a little softer, making my voice sound more tender.
“Let's be normal, see bad movies
Sneak a beer and watch tv
We'll bake brownies or go bowling
Don't you want a life with me?”
Sweet Pea still doesn’t look at me. He just stands on the other side of the stage, staring into the audience angrily with the most intimidating scowl on his face I have ever seen.
“Can’t we be seventeen?
That's all I want to do
If you could let me in
I could be good with you”
“People hurt us”
“Or they vanish,” Sweet Pea sings.
“And you're right that really blows
But we let go,” then Sweet Pea adds, “take a deep breath”
“Then go buy some summer clothes
We'll go camping”
“Play some poker”
I chuckle a little when he finally looks at me.
“And we'll eat some chilli fries
Maybe prom night”
“Maybe dancing”
“Don’t stop looking in my eyes”
“Your eyes,” Sweet Pea echoes. The scowl on his face has been exchanged for a sad puppy face that nearly makes me cry. I reach my hand out for him to coax him to come closer to me as we sing the chorus together, our voices blending perfectly.
“Can we be seventeen
Is that so hard to do?”
He carefully inches closer and closer.
“If you could let me in
I could be good with you”
He finally takes my hand in his and pulls me a little closer, taking my other hand too.
“Let us be seventeen
If we still got the right”
I let go of one hand and cup his cheek with his as I sing the next line.
“So what's it gonna be
I wanna be with you”
“Wanna be with you” he echoes, and I almost believe him singing it to me instead of JD to Veronica.
“I wanna be with you tonight” We belt out the note together, and then he pulls me in for the scripted kiss whilst the music still blares.
I pull away from him – even though I don’t want to – when it’s my cue to sing.
“Yeah we're damaged,”
“Badly damaged”
“But your love's too good to lose” our voices blend together again.
I then step closer, wrapping my arms around his bicep, pressing my cheek against his shoulder while facing the audience.
“Hold me tighter”
“Even closer” he wraps his other arm around me. It feels so good and so natural to do this.
“I'll stay if I'm what you choose” We then alternate between lines. Our voices soft and vulnerable.
“Can we be seventeen?”
“If I am what you choose”
“If we still got the right”
“’cause you're the one I choose” I get out of his grip and turn back to the spot I was in before, facing him. Now, I can look in his eyes properly. They’re finally telling me the truth. Sweet Pea’s truth, not JD’s. Sweet Pea’s. He means the words as Sweet Pea to me. Not as JD to Veronica.
“You're the one I choose”
“You're the one I choose,” we sing the last line together. His eyes dart from my eyes to my lips, and even though I know we have to kiss according to the script, I feel like he actually can’t wait to kiss me. And then he does. His lips curl up into a tender smile first before he places them on mine, gently. I almost forget the show must go on and the next scene is one we’re in too. I mean, we’re Veronica and JD, we’re in pretty much every scene.
The end of the show comes sooner than I think. We’re already on the reprisal of Seventeen. It’s a bit bittersweet. I loved doing this musical and playing this part more than anything, but I’ll also be glad it’s over because then I can finally talk to Sweet Pea.
“I meant every word I sang during Seventeen, Y/N. I want to be with you,” he tells me in a rush when I run into the wings after the last song. But now, we all still have to go on for the bows.
“I want to be with you too,” I tell him with a little smile tugging at my lips. He then leans down and plants his lips on mine. It still feels the same it did when he kissed me in the dressing room or when we kissed on stage. That was never a stage kiss.
“As much as I love this, guys,” Evelyn’s voice makes us break up, “You’re almost up for the bows!” I peck Sweet Pea’s lips quickly before running to the other side of the stage where I need to run up for my bows. First it’s Sweet Pea, and I watch him as he waves and then takes his bow. He begins clapping as I run up, a proud smile on his face. I bow and wave at the crowd before Sweet Pea grabs my hand and we bow together once. We then join the others and bow together twice until the music speeds up again and all of us begin dancing like crazy. Veronica and Betty run up to me and hug me sideways, each of them flanking me. I wrap my arms around them too and kiss Betty on the head. They then let go as we lapse into a chorus of “Beautiful” as it’s kind of part of the reprisal of Seventeen still. When the music dies down and all that’s heard is the audience’s applause, Sweet Pea grabs my hand and pulls me towards him, dipping me down to kiss me passionately. I faintly hear cheers, but I can’t focus much on that. All I’m focusing on is Sweet Pea and his tender, warm lips on mine. It is a beautiful freakin’ day.
#sweet pea#sweet pea au#sweet pea imagine#sweet pea fanfic#sweet pea x reader#sweet pea x Y/N#riverdale#riverdale au#riverdale imagine#riverdale x heathers#heathers#heathers the musical#veronica sawyer#JD#jason dean#martha dunnstock#heather chandler#heather mcnamara#heather duke#kurt kelly#ram sweeney#veronica lodge#betty cooper#jughead jones#kevin keller#evelyn evernever#fangs fogarty#toni topaz#archie andrews#reggie mantle
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Love Day Surprise
Summary: The reader is bummed out on Valentine’s Day because it’s a reminder of the life she will never have. Dean tries to help her feel better by throwing a Valentine’s Day movie night at the bunker.
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Mild angst, lots of fluff.
Word Count: 2,640+
A/N: Happy Almost Valentine’s Day! If I have time over the next few weeks, I’ll post some other Valentine’s oneshots about other characters.
I walked towards the kitchen following the smell of bacon wafting through the halls. I smiled when I found Sam sitting at the table, reading something on his laptop, and Dean standing over the stove cooking.
“Morning (Y/N),” Sam mumbled with his head still buried in his screen.
Dean turned toward me and smiled, “Hey sunshine, Happy Love Day!” Mornings were not my favorite, but these two could always get a smile out of me, even if I felt like a zombie.
“Happy Valentine’s Day to all of us single people,” I said. Sam laughed and Dean turned back to the pancakes.
I sat down next to Sam and yawned, stretching my arms up towards the ceiling. Dean always looked so happy when he was cooking. It was funny to watch him. He would sometimes hum his favorite rock songs without even realizing it. Today he was humming AC/DC as he poured the pancake batter.
“Need some help rockstar?”I teased.
“Nah groupie I’ve got this covered” Dean quipped, shooting me an ‘I’m the funniest person ever’ look. I shrugged, smirking at Dean’s comment, as I poured myself a glass of milk. Like I said, they could always get me to smile.
A few minutes later Dean brought over a steaming plate of bacon and heart shaped pancakes. Sam finally looked over his screen to see what Dean had brought to the table.
“Hearts huh?” Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean.
“It’s Love Day Sammy, I couldn’t resist.” Dean sat down across from me and began to fill up his plate. Sam and I soon followed, although Sam avoided the bacon.
When I was finished I took my plate to the next room over where the sink and dishwater were located. The boys were still busy stuffing their faces. I turned on the water in the sink and watched as it swirled around. Valentine’s Day always seemed like a bust for hunters. Sure you could always pick up someone at a bar, but having someone to call your Valentine was basically unheard of. That meant no boxes of chocolate, no cute cards, and no flowers. I knew living the life of a hunter meant romance was unlikely, but that never made it suck any less.
“What’s on your mind groupie?” I jumped and dropped my plate in the sink with a loud clattering sound. Dean had crept up behind me while I was lost in thought.
“Oh, uh, nothing.” I stammered, picking up the plate and scrubbing off the last bit of grease.
“You practically just jumped out of your skin, clearly it’s not nothing. But if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine.”
“It’s just your average hunter angst, don’t worry about it” I shrugged, taking my dish over to the dish washer.
I heard Dean turn on the sink behind me so he could rinse his dishes. “Come on this is one of the best days of the year, cheer up a little bit.” When I finished loading my dish I went and leaned against the doorframe. I wasn’t sure what so say so I just watched as he finished rinsing his dishes.
Finally I gained the courage to speak. “Yeah it’s nice if you have someone to spend time with.” I watched Dean’s back tense slightly at my words. He shut off the sink and turned to face me.
“We can always go to the bar later tonight. I’m sure there will be someone there who would love to spend time with you on Valentine’s Day.” His words came out slow and nonchalant.
“Dean that’s not what I meant. I know this job doesn’t compliment romance, but sometimes I wish I had someone special. Valentine’s Day is just a reminder of the life I’ll never have.”
Dean walked over to me and stood by my side. He placed his hand on my shoulder and I looked up at him. “I tell you what. I’m gonna head to the store. I will pick up some good food for dinner and some snacks. We’ll force Sammy to watch a chick flick with us. It will be a great! That way you’ll have someone to spend Valentine’s Day with.” He smiled and I couldn’t help but smile too.
“Thanks Dean, you’re the best.” He patted my shoulder and walked out of the room. I heard him, call out to Sam letting him know he was headed to the store.
After loading Dean’s dishes into the dishwasher I went to join Sam in the library. Sam was taking a book off one of the shelves and blew a cloud of dust from it. He waved the dust out of his face and coughed.
“What is that?” I asked.
“It’s a history of vampires. I decided to brush up on some lore since we don’t have a case at the moment.” Sam waved the book so I could see the cover.
“Do you have any recommendations for me?” I asked staring at the overwhelming amount of bookshelves. Sam walked up to a shelf in the far corner of the room and grabbed a book.
“This one is on mermaids. We haven’t encountered one yet and we aren’t sure if they exist, but it should make for an interesting read.”
“Cool thanks.” We both picked a chair and sat down. We read in silence for a while, until I heard Sam’s book shut. At first I kept reading but when he sat there not doing anything for a while I peeked over my book. “You finished?” I asked.
“No, I was just thinking.” Sam replied.
“About?”
Sam hesitated for a moment then cleared his throat. “Well I don’t understand what’s going on with Dean. He never wants to stay in on Valentine’s Day. Has he said anything to you?”
“Oh Dean’s just being nice. He went to the store to grab stuff for a movie night. I was upset earlier, because Valentine’s Day was making me feel lonely. He volunteered you and himself to spend time with me tonight so I wouldn’t feel alone.”
Sam nodded to show he understood the feeling. “Being a hunter is brutal on relationships.” We went back to reading after that, until Dean came home. We heard the bunker door open and Dean sprinting down the stairs.
“(Y/N), Sammy, I’m back!” Dean called out.
“We’re in the library Dean,” I hollered back.
Dean strolled in with one arm behind his back and the other carrying a grocery bag. He had a mischievous grin spread across his face and he couldn’t seem to keep still. Dean set down the bag and walked towards me, still carrying something behind him.
“What are you doing Winchester?”
“I was at the store grabbing the stuff for our stay-at-home party and I saw these and figured why not.” He pulled a bouquet of red roses from behind his back and held them out to me. “Since hunters don’t usually get gifts for Valentine’s Day I figured you might enjoy flowers for once.” I reached up and took them in disbelief. My eyes got a little watery, I couldn’t help it, this was one of the nicest gestures someone had ever done for me. I stood up and wiped a tear away from my face.
“Come here.” I opened my arms and Dean met me in an embrace. “This is awesome Dean, thank you. I’m going to go put these in some water.” I let go and sprinted towards the kitchen.
Of course we didn’t have any vases in the bunker so I grabbed an empty whiskey bottle off the counter. I rinsed it out and put the water and roses inside. I took them into the TV room for some seasonal décor for our party tonight. I stared at them for a moment, soaking in the beautiful petals and the lovely aroma. Dean always knew how to bring my spirits up.
***
Around seven I heard a knock on my door. I had been busy reading the book Sam recommended to me, waiting for the party to start. I hadn’t realized how late it was until I looked at the clock on my bedside table. “Come in.”
The door cracked open and Dean peeked his head inside. “Dinner is on the table. Are you ready to party it up?”
“You know it. I’ll be down in a minute.” Dean gave me a thumbs up and shut the door behind him as he left. I hopped up and went over to my closet. I had been wearing a worn out t-shirt all day and decided to get a little dressed up. It was Valentine’s Day after all, or at least that’s why I told myself I was doing it.
The roses Dean got me had my mind spinning. I had feelings for Dean, but I pushed them down because I didn’t want to complicate the life I had here. The Winchester’s had been kind enough to take me in when I was on the run from a nest of vampires. After we teamed up to gank that nest, the Winchesters said I could stay if I wanted. Ever since then we lived and hunted together. Telling Dean how I feel could ruin everything and I wasn’t willing to risk it. Although he did buy me flowers, and was willing to stay in on his favorite day of the year…for me. My mind kept going over the day’s events, trying simultaneously to convince me that he felt the same and that he did not feel the same.
I grabbed a blouse out of my closet. It still had the tags on it. I bought it for hunts when I would have to pretend to be some kind of professional figure. It was silky and red like the roses Dean bought for me. I smiled as I looked at myself in the mirror. It fit perfectly and was appropriate for the holiday. I paired it with some cute black jeans and headed out my door.
I met Sam and Dean at the dining table. Both their eyes widened at the sight of me in my new outfit. “What? People usually get dressed up for Valentine’s Day, especially if they’re attending a party.” I stated as I took my place next to Sam and across from Dean.
“It looks nice.” Sam said.
“Thanks Sam.” I smiled. I turned to look at Dean. Our eyes met for a moment before he looked away.
“In honor of this special event, may I present you grilled steak and twice-baked potatoes.” Dean lifted tin foil off the dishes, displaying the delicious meal.
We ate, joked, and laughed just like we always did when we had dinner together. However, I could feel something different in the air. I caught Dean gazing at me a few times. His face would get a slight flush of red each time we made eye contact.
After dinner we made our way into the TV room. I plopped down on the couch and Sam soon followed. Dean threw some frilly heart shaped boxes on the table from the grocery bag he had stashed away. He looked like a child with how excited he was. He sat down next to Sam and flipped on the TV.
“What will it be? Do we want to make this a real Valentine’s party and watch some kind of chick flick, or should we just stick to our usual Sci-Fi picks?” Dean asked.
“You already promised me a chick flick,” I reminded him. Sam rolled his eyes, even though I knew he secretly loved romance movies. I couldn’t quite read Dean’s facial expression, but I think he was excited?
“Alright, take your pick (Y/N).” Dean passed the remote to me then turned off the lights. I picked a classic eighties romance, I had seen many times before. I wanted to watch the boys reactions when something good would happen and watch their shock when something dramatic would happen. As I predicted Sam was invested the whole time. Dean acted like he didn’t care for about the first half of the movie, but towards the end he was on the edge of his seat with a box of chocolates in his lap. I couldn’t help but feel happy watching the two of them. Call it luck or fate, but this was our little family.
The movie ended and the credits began to roll leaving the room in dim glow. Sam stood up leaving an empty space between Dean and me. “I’m going to bed, it’s getting late.”
“Alright grandpa see you tomorrow.” Dean teased. Sam ignored Dean and made his way out of the room.
“Night Sam!” I hollered after him.
“Night (Y/N).” Sam called back.
I leaned back and watched the TV lights flicker across the roses on the table. This was the best Valentine’s Day in a long time.
“How’s that ‘hunter’s angst’ going?” Dean’s voice broke my train of thought.
“I think it’s safe to say it’s been remedied thanks to you. I really appreciate all this Dean.” I motioned around the room, towards the roses and chocolates.
“What can I say? I am the master of Valentine’s Day.” Dean smiled.
“Oh yeah Casanova you sure are.” I rolled my eyes, he could be so ridiculous sometimes. We sat there in silence for a moment soaking in the happiness that filled the room. My mind began to ponder my conversation with Sam in the library. “So why didn’t you want to go out tonight? This is your favorite night of the year.”
“Well….” Dean paused, licking his lips. “I may sound like Sammy but I think I’m getting too old for that lifestyle. Barhopping and finding some girl who I’ll never see again isn’t what I want anymore.” My mind swirled with his words. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. Could he be implying what I thought he was implying? I had kept my feelings for Dean hidden the best I could. I was too afraid to tell him since he was one of my best friends. I never wanted to jeopardize the relationship I had with him. But if he felt the same then maybe, just maybe, we could make this work. He seemed lost in thought staring at the floor. I moved closer to him, so we were sitting next to each other.
“What do you want Winchester?” I elbowed his side, which made him smile. “You’ve already got everything you need.” I pointed at the box of chocolates in his lap. He laughed and threw the box on the table next to my makeshift vase, then turned to face me.
“You know you’re right, I do have everything I need,” Dean placed his hand on mine. It felt like electricity ran up my arm and through my entire body. “I’ve got a beautiful woman, who is also my best friend, by my side every day. I really hope I’m not going to mess anything up by saying this because I would hate to lose you, but –” I cut him off with a kiss. Dean seemed shocked at first and to be honest so was I. This had all happened so fast. I never expected Dean to feel the same way about me. After the initial shock, our lips softened into a tender kiss. Dean’s hand traveled from my hand to my waist, pulling me in close.
After a moment I gently broke the kiss placing my forehead on his. “Happy Valentine’s Day Dean.” I smiled.
“Happy Valentine’s Day (Y/N).” Dean said before placing a kiss on the top of my head. He wrapped his arm around me and we sat there enjoying each other’s company, and the fact that we both lifted the secret of our affection for one another off our shoulders.
#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#dean x you#dean winchester#supernatural valentine's day#spn valentine's day#supernatural fic#spn fanfiction#supernatural#Love Day Surprise#spn oneshot#valentine’s day
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Why Stop Now (M)
Pairing: JohnnyxYutaxReader
Genre: PWP, One Shot, College Au (barely)
Summary: I literally just wanted to write about getting DP’d hardcore with my bias and wrecker. that’s it. It’s just fucking, short and sweet
Word Count: 4.2k
Features: blowjob, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, anal, squirting, grinding, a smidge of public sex, a little bit of overstretching,
A/N: Probs will edit some more later like tomorrow when I’m not so tired.
MasterlIst Buy me a Ko-Fi
It was a mistake coming here tonight. I didn’t want to be surrounded by a house full of idiots but I most certainly didn't want to run into my ex. Lucas was currently the bane of my existence after I caught him cheating on me at a party similar to this. The moment I saw him I took to drinking my sorrows away in order to forget. I hoped I looked good enough to ever make him regret being the world's biggest asshole to me. The unfortunate part was that I hadn't really eaten much for a good part of the day and the alcohol hit me harder than I wanted it to. I slowed down and worked through clusters of people to head upstairs and rest in Taeyong's bedroom. I hoped it wasnt occupied with a fucking couple as I didn't need war flashbacks to top off my already sour mood. His room was thankfully barren and I closed the door and set the lock.
The bed looked perfect for me to just take a quiet nap and I shuffled slowly to the mattress before throwing myself across it. I wanted my head to stop spinning a bit so I could start making good decisions. Once I was a bit more sober I would head home instead of wallowing in misery and chatting with guys I had slept with in the past. Almost the entirety of my track record was in attendance here which was the cherry on top of my clusterfuck sundae. There was Taeil from my college writing class, Taeyong, the host of the party, from my media class, Jaehyun from the Student Democrats club, and I was sure my most frequent suitors, Johnny and Yuta were floating around somewhere. All in all I was making mistake after mistake in the grand scheme of things.
I shut my eyes and tried to focus on sleep but the music was still too loud even through the closed door and I could hear voices pouring in from the open window. Those voices sounded way too familiar and I winced the moment I recognized them. I hoped to all hell they didn't notice me in the room as they were sitting on the mid roof right outside of Taeyong's bedroom. I curled up and tried to stay as quiet as possible but my plan failed entirely when I heard my name called out in a weed induced slur.
"Heyyyy baby! What are you doing here?!" Yuta giggled.
"Fuck I haven't seen you in forever!" Johnny added.
I grumbled and squeezed my eyes tighter. "Leave me alone. I hit the bottle too hard and I need to sleep it off for a bit."
"Ooh did you see Lucas downstairs? Is that it?" Yuta asked.
I stayed quiet, refusing to answer.
"Yup," Johnny said. "Definitely saw Lucas. Come here babe. We'll help you get your mind off it."
"Absolutely not." I said, finally sitting up. "You two are the worst trouble makers of them all. I don't need you trying to play games tonight."
"When have we ever played games?!" Yuta took a long drag from the joint he and Johnny had been sharing.
"Hmm, let's see, leaving me on read, ghosting me, dumping me out of your room after we were done fucking, being complete fuckboys. The list goes on, truly."
"We're not that bad! Besides...you always come back for more, don't you?" Johnny smirked.
My face flared up instantly at his truth filled statement. Little fucker. "Be quiet." I snapped. "That's not the point."
"Yeah, your point should be coming out here and joining us. The breeze is much better up here and it's not as hot as it is in the house."
Yuta was right. The summer weather had been unforgiving especially when a couple dozen people were crammed in a small two story house. The breeze was coming in nicely through the windows and I contemplated actually going out there in hopes that the air would help clear my head.. I sighed and used the bed for leverage to crawl out the window and sit on the roof area. Yuta passed the blunt to Johnny and I laid back against the paneling, staring down at the mess of people on the lawn.
"We've been people watching all night. That dude on the left has been trying to get in this chicks pants for like an hour now. It ain't gonna happen." Johnny laughed.
"Hmm, he doesn't look like he's got game. I wouldn't sleep with him."
"What he's not your type? I thought you liked big dumb idiots?"
"I mean that's why I fucked you, didn't I?" I smirked at Johnny who glared at me.
Yuta snorted and laid back with me, clasping his hands behind his head. "This party blows. Taeyong's cool and all but something needs to happen."
"What would you even want to happen?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Something. Anything. I could get laid or be at home stuffing my face with frozen burritos and passing the fuck out."
"That sounds so titillating."
Johnny snorted. "Heh, tittle."
I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, you giant man child."
"Do you wanna hook up?" Yuta asked suddenly. He was never one for subtlety.
"Uh...like right now? I still kinda feel like crap."
"Fucking will help with that. We could all fuck." Johnny propositioned.
"Like a threesome?" I looked between the two of the as they shrugged, playing it off real cool. I blushed hard not knowing how to respond. It wasn't something I really had experience in but Yuta and Johnny were my two favorite people to fuck. Johnny was commanding and a little rough with a secretive soft side that poked through every once in awhile. Yuta was dirty to the core, bending me every which way and unabashed at anything he suggested we do. Things usually ended up messy with him but I never thought about fucking the two together. Having Johnny's thickness invade every inch of me while Yuta fucked me from behind; being so completely stuffed that my stomach would clench and I could feel so whole and perfectly ruined. I bit my lip and pressed my thighs together as scenes began to flourish in my mind.
"Hello?" Yuta snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Did you hear us?
"Huh? Uh...yeah, the hookup. Threesome. Um, I've never had a threesome before." I admitted shyly.
"I had one once but it wasn't that great. Dude was hogging the chick the whole time. So Yuta if you pull that shit I'm dipping out."
"Trust me dude. I've got my own plans. You can do whatever you want to her pus-"
I slapped my hand over his mouth, keeping him from saying that vile word. "We get it. You want to fuck my ass."
"You do that?" Johnny questioned.
I sighed and laid back down. "Only with Yuta. He gets excited over it and we'll…"
"She literally cums so hard when we do it. Don't let her fool you, she's just as big of a slut as I am."
"Shut up, asshole! I am not. Well...maybe a little but you don't have to point it out."
"Alright, let's cut the crap. Threesome of not? It's been awhile since you've gotten fucked, right? You and Lucas broke up like a month or so ago." Johnny said.
"Yeah, don't remind me…"
"Agree to fuck us and we'll make sure we can help you forget." Yuta said.
I sighed and gave in, too easily for my liking but the images I created where already burned into my mind. "Sure, why the fuck not."
Yuta said no more and dove to capture my neck in slow and methodical kisses, nibbling ever once in awhile. Johnny's large hand was working itself over my stomach as he leaned down to capture me in a kiss. His lips were so fucking amazing that sometimes it made my heart ache to have them against me. They were full, soft, and he knew exactly how to work them so I would get wet in an instant. I parted my lips and let his thick tongue creep into my mouth, sucking on my own and making sure I couldn't breathe. His fingers wiggled beneath the hem of my shirt and pushed it upwards to expose my chest to the cool breeze.
"Whoa, wait. We can't do it out here!" I whispered harshly.
"Shhh, it's just the beginning. We'll finish everything inside; we need the room anyway. For now I just want you legs spread open and to see if we can make you squirt off the rooftop." Yuta said deviously.
"D-dont you fucking dare!" My face was red at the thought but it shook me to my core. I ached for them to prove that they could make my body do such things.
"Take them off, Yuta." Johnny commanded.
Yuta slipped his hand under my skirt to grab a hold of my panties and yank them down. I fumbled to try and keep them on, embarrassed that someone might see us but they got tossed to Johnny who pocketed them with a teasing smile. My legs were forced open then, the front clasp of my bra worked apart, so every tender area was exposed. Johnny latched his lips around my nipple, sucking deeply as his long middle finger trailed up the length of my slit. "She's already starting to get wet."
"Of course she is. Told you she was dirty." Yuta commented.
"If you two don't stop talking I'm going to-" I gasped softly as I felt Johnny push his finger inside me. It was slow and precise, dragging up and down my walls to work me up even more. He went back to teasing my breast while Yuta licked his fingers and set them over my clit. He circled them over the sensitive spot, pairing it with more bites to my neck that flowed down to my chest. I didn't know where to even put my hands at this point and I was already arching slightly against all their teasing. I felt Johnny hook his ankle over mine and nudge my leg to rest between his strong thighs. The center of his jeans pressed against the junction of my knee and thigh and he rocked against me, creating as much friction as possible. He moaned deeply against my chest and I couldn't help how frenzied it made my brain.
Yuta nudged his free hand between us, grabbing a hold on my wrist and guiding me to touch him. My fingers rubbed against the denim, feeling the way he was starting to bulge beneath the fabric. I closed my eyes then, letting my senses get overridden by their exploring hands and tongues. Johnny licked his way up my neck so his lips could rest by my ear. "I know you like getting stretched out but how many fingers do you think we can fit in there before you cum." He whispered in his slightly deepened voice. I turned away from him, trying to hide how embarrassed his words were making me and ended up catching Yuta's lips instead. Johnny chuckled softly as he watched my lips get occupied but someone else and shoved another finger inside me. With how big his hands were just those couple of digits had my entrance already working to accommodate him.
Yuta scissored my lower lips open while the tip of his middle finger curled little strokes against my clit, leaving me open for more sensitivity. My hips bucked then and I squirmed, trying to move away for a moment to regain my composure. Pressure was building within the pit of my stomach as I could feel that orgasm creeping closer. As I tried to close my free leg, Yuta trapped it between his thighs, mimicking Johnny so I couldn't hide even if I tried. Anyone could look up and see me half naked and getting fingered to all hell and back. I knew they weren't going to let me go until I came. My breath burned in my lungs as I couldn't seem to catch it but I was just able to pant out a little beg. "P-please, m-more."
Yuta's fingers joined Johnny's then, forcing two more into me. While Johnny kept steady thrusts, Yuta curled his fingers in a beckoning motion, trying to dig the harshest reaction out of me. "Touch yourself." He commanded, adding a small nip to the shell of my ear afterward. I took over the attention to my clit while their fingers explored and bodies grinded against my thighs. My lower half trembled with the threat of release and I clamped my lips shut so I wouldn't draw attention from the other partygoers below. Both my nipples were overtaken by their mouths again just as I felt increased attention to a particularly sensitive spot within me. I grabbed at Yuta's hand to make sure he stayed in place and commanded Johnny to go faster. My own fingers increased speed as I heard my wetness echoing into the night.
My toes were curling within my shoes, my body dipping against the panelling, and suddenly a rush of absolute bliss washed over me. I shuddered hard, my body practically collapsing in on itself as I slapped at their hands to try and remove the intensity. They didn't let up, becoming greedy for the way my body was creating splashes down the rooftop. I finally grabbed their hands and pushed them away to snap my legs shut and breathe. I muttered out curses while Johnny and Yuta were all smiles and cheers, high fiving each other in victory of my glorious and wet defeat.
"Damn, I didn't think you could actually do it!" Johnny said as excited as a puppy.
"Dude, I told you! That was fucking hot!"
I wanted to ask myself why I put up with their absolutely idiotic tendencies. They were stupid college kids with minds wrapped around partying, getting drunk or high, and getting laid. Nothing remotely appealing about that- then I was harshly reminded why I sought out their company when Johnny's bulge grazed against me again. When I glanced down I could tell that his jeans were trying desperately to keep him contained and he would be growling in my ear at any moment if he didn't get more attention. "We need to get inside." Johnny grunted right on cue. Yuta nodded and crawled up to the open window, tossing himself inside. Johnny and I followed suit and we were a clash of kisses and tongues, pulling off the rest of our clothes until my head was between Johnny's thighs and Yuta had my ass raised.
He shuffled around, rifling through Taeyong's drawers, looking intently for something. I was curious as to what he was doing but still currently occupied by the way Johnny filled my mouth entirely. I swallowed around him and gripped at his base to try and prevent him from thrusting harshly. He was always trying to get me to deep throat him but I couldn't take everything at once. It would usually end in a glaring contest with his hand firmly pushing my hand down until I tapped out. This time he seemed to be a little bit gentle and focused instead on the way my lips looked flowing over his thickness.
Yuta finally came back after a victorious exclamation. He had found whatever he was looking for and finally joined us on the bed. My hole was perfectly presented for him and I felt the familiar chill of lube against me. That must have been what he had been searching for in Taeyong's drawers. I sighed around my mouthful as his fingertip nudged against the barrier, slowly rocking until he poked through. His slender finger was enough to make me whimper and reach back to tap his outer thigh when I needed breaks. He was always good about that and filled our pauses with kisses up my spine or his thumb grazing the entrance of my heat. Eventually he was able to work his knuckle in and get a consistent rhythm going.
I popped off of Johnny when I felt his pre cum splatter across my taste buds, making sure he didn't get too worked up. He fumbled around for his pants that had been discarded on the floor, getting into the pocket of his jeans to pull out a condom. He ripped it open and I helped roll it on, kissing the tip playfully. "Yuta, let her move up to my lap." Johnny demanded.
Yuta scooted us closer so I could straddle Johnny and he could remain behind me to work my ass open. As Johnny slid his cock through my wetness, Yuta started to pry a second finger into me. He added a bit more lube and latched his teeth onto my shoulder, his other hand coming to cup my breast and make small pinches at my nipple. Johnny grabbed onto my hips, lifting me just a bit so I could sink down on his length. I bit down on my lip as soon as I felt that heavy fullness even within my stomach. He let out a moan from deep within his chest, head tossed back against the pillow and lips parted slightly. My bounces were small at first, giving Yuta a pace he could still work with as I desperately needed them both in me at the same time. I wished he could hurry up but patience, time, and dedication were needed for him to fuck me senseless.
The second finger made its way in fully and I felt the slight sting of my muscles trying to accommodate him. I took a few deep breaths, letting him push forward on every exhale. He scissored his fingers little by little, chuckling when he saw me gaped open. My cheeks burned as I knew he loved seeing me spread apart for him. I elbowed him gently, trying to get him to stop as my embarrassment continued. His lips were by my ear whispering the softest of teases. "You look so good like this I couldn't help myself."
"Yeah, we'll save your tired old lines for-" My hand flew to my mouth to cover a harsh gasp that was about to escape. Johnny had bucked his hips particularly hard to gain my attention. His brows were furrowed in irritation and he landed a heavy slap on my ass.
"Less talking, more working." He grunted.
I pouted but rolled my hips, feeling Johnny's cock press against my walls while Yuta curled his fingers deep within me. It was getting easier for him to work me open and the third finger edged in almost seamlessly. With each roll of my hips I was fucking myself back against them, squeezing my eyes shut and trying not to be too loud. I was sure the music would cover me but I didn't need the possibility of Taeyong coming in and see us defiling his bed.
Johnny dug his fingers into my thighs as he increased his pace. Heated skin on skin echoed throughout the room, mixing in with his slightly animalistic grunts and groans. Yuta gently rubbed my ass making my heart race as I knew what was next. "You ready?" He asked with a bit of concern.
I nodded and turned my head for a kiss, his lips morphing into a smile as soon as we connected. "Dude, slow down a sec." Yuta told Johnny who seemed peeved at the request. He stopped his motions entirely as Yuta bent me over Johnny's torso. I heard the rip of his own condom packet and a few moments later he was lined up against me, thumbs spreading my asscheeks apart. Once his head creeped in past the barrier I buried my face deep into Johnny's neck, whimpering helplessly.
"You ok?" He asked. I nodded, content that the both of them were showing their soft sides of being concerned for my well-being. It was a breath of fresh air given their usual antics.
"I got her. We've done this before." Yuta reassured the other man. More and more of me was filled, making my legs almost give out from their place over Johnny’s hips. All I could scream was 'oh god' in my head over and over and when Yuta finally was in the three of us groaned at the intense tight feeling surrounding around us.
"Please just fuck me." I said. I didnt want to waste anymore time as I needed my body turned into a pillar of pleasure between them. Yuta was the first to thrust and he grabbed a hold of my arms, pulling them behind me like reins to control his pace. Once Johnny joined in my eyes got lost in the back of my head and I was in a whirlwind of bliss. Each slam of their bodies into me created pressure that sent tingles throughout my entire being. I tried to keep up but it was hard to press into them when my body was getting destroyed. Veins and ridges crept up my walls, dragging through nerves and places I didn't think they could have ever reached. My thighs quaked as weakness set in but my lust wouldn’t be satisfied until I felt the warm heat of their cum inside me.
Johnny gripped my neck gently, nudging his thumb to lift my chin up so our lips could crash together. It was a sloppy mess of tangled breaths and soft groans, our tongues trying to stay melded as he fucked me harder. I clenched around him, bucking slightly when he pushed through the tightness. My second orgasm was approaching way too fast but there was no way to stop it. I pressed my forehead to Johnny, his whisper against my lips now. "Fuck, I wanna come for you."
"Don't say it just do it." I pleaded.
Suddenly I was yanked back to be pressed against Yuta's chest. "You complained about that other dude hogging chicks and now you’re doing the same thing. Share a little." He chuckled.
"F-fuck you!" Johnny managed to groan out as he started to swell against my tightness.
"Such a cop out, cumming first." Yuta turned my face towards his, getting a taste of my lips again. He was thrusting upwards, getting every inch of him to slam into me relentlessly. He parted from me to replace his tongue with the pads of his index and middle finger. They pressed down on my tongue and I sucked hungrily around them. "You want me to touch you?" He teased. I nodded vigorously. If he added that extra magical sensation to my clit we'd all be a symphony of chaotic messes. He shoved his fingers in deeper, almost touching the back of my throat before teasing the digits back out slowly.
He worked them down between my breasts and towards my stomach until they met my clit and worked steady circles into me. Occasionally, he would tease my entrance, getting his fingertip in besides Johnny's cock and crooking his finger just an inch or so inside me. My eyes squeezed shut as I couldn't help but left let a loud moan run free, practically screaming for him not to stop. Johnny forced through one last sloppy thrust, raising his hips so his cock crashed against the deepest part of me, and spilled all he had within the rubber. I still felt that comforting heat through my lower belly and a smile crossed my lips. God, I needed that again and again. Yuta still was vibrant as ever, continuing to ravish me until my body tensed and flushed with warmth. I clenched my thighs around Johnny’s waist as my next orgasm gushed out, leaving trails across his abs. “F-fuck, s-sorry.” I whispered. He shook his head and sat up, cupping my face to kiss my lips and tired body. I held onto him as I could barely keep up with Yuta though I could feel him ready to lose himself at any moment as well.
“Don’t be sorry. You felt so fucking good.” He purred as he slipped out of me slowly. He gave me a wink as Yuta began his greed tirade of final thrusts, bending me over completely and ramming my ass back against him. Johnny watched us, making sure my head was turned towards him so he could see every expression of pain and pleasure on my face. I curled my fingers around the wrinkled bed sheets whimpering out Yuta’s name. His hips stuttered and his blunt nails dug into my skin as he burst within me, shoving his sheathed released as far down as he could. Johnny laid back and Yuta pulled out, flopping beside me. I could finally give my body the break it deserved as my lustful greed was quelled for now.
“Not gonna lie, I kinda missed that.” Johnny said.
Yuta hummed in agreement which got me thinking. We did all have good chemistry together and it was all for fun and after the hell I went through fun was exactly what I deserved. “Should we do it again? Like hook up? The three of us?” He asked.
“Well we’ve all fucked and then had this threesome so why stop now?”
#Johnny Fanfic#JOHNNY SMUT#johnny suh#johnny seo#johnny nct#johnny fanfiction#yuta smut#yuta nct#yuta fanfic#nakamoto yuta#yuta fanfiction#nct yuta#NCT#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 fanfiction#NCT 127#nct 127 smut
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Tagged by @wishingupontheskyandstars Thank you <3
Rules: Name your top 10 characters from 10 different fandoms and tag 10 people.
(Do not do what I did and write essays on why you like what you like lol I doubt anybody will read this or cares)
In no particular order-
1. Star Wars: Ben Solo/Kylo Ren (he has my whole ❤️), but also Ahsoka (my role model), Ventress (what a character arc!), Rey, Anakin and Padme, Yoda (in the OT he was hilarious! In the prequels he was too serious. I guess exhile will do wonders for your sense of humor 😂 ) ugh so many great characters!!! I better stop myself.
2. GoT: ugh so many good characters in this fandom too... Arya, Brienne, Dany, Tyrion, Sansa, John, Sam, Tormund, Sandor, Jamie (except the show ruined his arc!!! Come on George, finish those books to heal my soul)... and as much as I hate her, Cersei. Yes, I know I know, but she is such a complex and well written character, and she was perfectly portrayed by the incomparable Lena Heady. She must have been so much fun to play. A once in a lifetime role, and just phenomenal for an actress to score. There are so few good female villians. You just love to hate her.
3 HP: the fandom that started it all for me, and the first novel I ever read all by myself. Also, so many good characters... Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Lupin, Sirius, Dumbledore (an imperfect human being, but that's why he's a good and complex character), Snape (same reason Snape is a good character. Characters don't have to be saints to be fascinating), all the Weasleys (except Percy, you can go impale yourself on a cheap cast iron fence because you didn't spend enough time with boys, according to the psychiatrist in the Virgin Suicides aka the dumbest movie about mental illness I have ever seen).
4 Dr Who: 4th and 10th doctor. Donna (I relate to her so much and her arc is perfect and breaks my heart), and Rose (same).
5. Merlin: the best plotted fantasy show ever. Everything was tight and seemless. Again, so many great characters, but I'm in love with Merlin and Morgana (phenomenal downward chart arc! Once in a lifetime kind of role, a perfect and sympathetic villian you hate to hate because of who she used to be, and love to hate because she's such a fantastic villian)
6. Supernatural: also one of my earliest fandoms! So sad to see it go 😭. Again, so many good characters. Of course my 3 boys, Sam, Dean, and Cas, and Cas' side chick Crowely. Lucifer, Gabriel, Chuck, Meg, and the queen, Rowena.
7. The Black Magician: probably my second fandom I entered as a young child. Literally no one knows about these books, written in the late 90's and published in Australia. I admit they aren't the best written, but they were the first high fantasy I ever read by myself, introduced me to tropes that are still my favs to this day (like enemies to lovers, guardian/ward, master/apprentice, exploring themes of classism, racism, and overcoming homophobia) so they have really influenced my writing in that way. The old 90's style fantasy covers are gorgeous oil paintings that have nothing to do with the plot but they look cool 😂 the new ones are a huge downgrade, still have nothing to do with the plot, but are boring and unimaginative photoshop (fantasy, sci/fi, and romance covers of the 20th century were gorgeous). But anyway, characters. Sonea, Akkarin, Dannyl, Rothen.
8.Hannibal: yes, I am a fannibal! The NBC show is incredible, Bryan Fuller is a gift. True genuis, I've never seen more beautiful cinematography. Hannibal, Will, Alanna, Abigail
9. Grisha verse: I recently read the Shadow and Bone trilogy and I'm in love! Especially with Darkles 😊 that unrepentant irredeemable sociopath has my whole 🖤 'every inch of my tar black soul'. I haven't read YA lit for a few years, but I'm so glad I made an exception for these books! Hopefully the new Netflix adaptation will do it justice. So many good characters, but I'd pick The Darkling, Alina, Nicolai, Genya
10. PotC: my love for all things swashbuckling started in childhood and it hasn't waned a bit! Elizabeth Swan is an incredible female lead, and she especially stands out against the other female characters of the early 2000's, which at the time there wasn't really much conversation on 'the strong female character' questions all actresses get asked these days. I especially love that she's always a little smarter than Will, and the only one to ever outsmart Captain Jack himself. She has an incredible arc. This is also imo the best thing Johnny Depp has ever done. And Orlando Bloom is as magnificent a pirate as he is an elf (he was probably my first celebrity crush lol). It also has some of the best fight choreography, there's always multiple layers going on in every scene so you never get bored. The first movie is an example of a perfect film (in fact there's a video essay about it on YouTube I recommend if that's your thing), the second film is also solid. The 3rd wasn't as tightly written (they hadn't finished the script by the time they started filming lol) so it's too long and meandering but still fun. And I don't acknowledge the other films exist (although the mermaids are pretty). Elizabeth, Captain Jack Sparrow, Will, Barbossa, Davy Jones, Pintel and Raggeti
Honorable mentions:
Uglies (fantastic sci/fi, strong focuse on female friendship. Scott Westerfield is one of two male authors who can write realistically from the teenage female perspective imo), Tally, Shay, Zane, David.
The Tommorrow series (John Marsden is the second man able to write from a teenage girl's perspective) if you're not Australian or a Kiwi you probably don't know about this either lol but it's absolutely a fantastic must read! Ellie, Fiona, Robyn, Chris
Mercy Thompson (the ultimate urban fantasy werewolf series! With mysteries, fae lore and vampires thrown in to spice it up), Mercy, Adam, Jesse, Bran, Stefan
The Hollows aka Rachel Morgan series: (fun urban fantasy adventures and mystery's! Starring a witch, pixie, and bi-sexual vampire living in and running a private investigator business from a rented church, complete with old tombstones in the backyard. Also the slowest of enemy to lovers burns 😋) Rachel, Jenks, Ivy, Trent, Al
The Witcher: I'm brand new to this fandom, but I'm loving it. Yennefer is my queen!
Broadchurch: a perfect mystery series. Hardy and Miller
Hades and Persephone: The Curse of the Golden Arrow- if you like Greek mythology, Hades and Persephone, perhaps are a reylo fan and are a fan of the incomparable @heidihastings (who I'm also challenging!) reylo inspired art, then go buy this gorgeously illustrated novel! (There's a kindle and a black and white version. But if you want to splurge on the colored version of the physical copy, here's the link for that. It's worth every penny.)
I challenge:
@heidihastings @jrae5 @qotsisajakk @shadesoflondonxoxo @a-nerd-obsessed @tracy-adkins @writers-block-personified @ann3onymous @hauscrashburn @starawr
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Warm Feelings
Pairing: Reader x Sam
Summary: The reader finally tells Sam how they really feel about him
Reader Gender: Either
Word Count: 1,789
Warnings: Language (One use of the F’bomb)
Authors Note: If you enjoyed this, please like and/or reblog! -xoxo, KD
You lied in bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling of your bedroom in the Bunker. Your arms were on either side of you, both completely bandaged up and covered with stitches. You imagined that your arms would look like some kind of Frankenstein project if you took the bandages off; that’s how bad the werewolf really fucked you up. Before Dean had basically sewn you back together, the amount of blood that was coming from your arms was immense and there was a slight burning sensation; scratch that, no pun intended, it felt like your arms got lit on fire. To your surprise, you were shocked that you didn’t pass out from either the amount of the blood loss you endured or the amount of pain you were in during that moment.
After Dean patched you up and said that you weren’t allowed to hunt until your arms were both completely healed, you were on a version of bed rest; which utterly sucked. All you wanted to do was hunt, because that was one of the only things that actually made sense to you, but you weren’t allowed until Cas gave you the go ahead that you could actually hunt again. Again, which also sucked because you wanted him to heal you right away, but he refused, partially due to the fact that Dean said that if I asked, that Cas should say no. Apparently, this was a lesson that Dean was trying to teach you in how to be more careful; even though the situation you were in wasn’t really your fault.
Since getting patched up, you didn’t really leave your room. The only time you did was to go make yourself some food or use the bathroom. Even though you loved your boys to death, you kind of just wanted to heal in peace. And since doing so, this has given you a lot of time to think about a lot of things; one of those things being how you felt about Sam.
You’ve been best friends with the younger Winchester for as long as you could remember. And as long as the two of you had your friendship, you always felt something towards him, but could never decide if it was a platonic feeling or a romantic feeling. Of course, you wanted to ask your mom about this, but you weren’t really sure how you could ask her, because you didn’t really know how to explain your feelings about him. He was your best friend, someone that you could tell anything to, someone that has always been there for you no matter what. Whenever you were around him, you always felt warm and safe; you felt comfortable. It was feelings like that, that really confused you. For a lot of people, that is how they described being with their friends, but for others, this is how they would describe being with a person they loved.
While being able to heal and be alone for the last couple of days, you finally came to a conclusion about if your feelings toward the younger Winchester was actually platonic or romantic. The conclusion that you finally came to is that your feelings towards the boy were definitely romantic. “How did it take me almost my entire life to figure this out?” You mumbled to yourself, still staring up at your ceiling.
“Figure what out?” Sam asked, opening up your door, just wide enough for half his body to stick inside your room.
“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” You said, smirking at him.
“Oh, so you want me to knock now?” He joked. “I’ve never had to knock before.” He added and completely came into your room. You rolled your eyes playfully, and he just laughed, walking toward your bed and sitting down on the edge of it.
You sat up and leaned your back against the headboard, crossing your legs. “So Sam, what did you want?” You asked.
“Just came to check up on you. You’ve been ignoring me the last few days,” he said. “I think you’re hurting Dean’s feelings.” He smirked and you let out a small laugh.
“I’ll make him a pie later.” You said. “What do you want me to make for you? One of those Kale smoothie things you like so much for some reason?”
He rolled his eyes. “Kale is healthy Y/N.”
“But at what cost Sam?” You said.
“You’re just like Dean sometimes, ya’know?” He smirked again.
“Like you have such a problem with that.” You crossed your arms, staring at him, a smirk still on your face.
“Not really. Just an observation. Makes sense though.” He looked at you in a way that you hadn’t really seen him look at you before. He looked like he was slightly hurt, but it was also mixed with jealously. Why in the world would he be jealous of your relationship with Dean? Dean was one of your best friends; you’ve known him just as long as you’ve known Sam, but were friends with him in a different way. Some of the things you did with Dean you never did with Sam, and vice versa. You were close with both of them equally and that was something that never really seemed to bother Sam, well, you guessed until now.
“Are you jealous?” You asked, and you noticed that he got tense at your question. “You shouldn’t be ya’know.”
“I’m…I’m not jealous Y/N.” He was a little defensive now, but still doing his best to keep his cool. “I was just saying that…It makes sense that you’re like him.”
You raised a brow. “I don’t understand…” You were definitely confused. You had feeling like you knew what he was getting at, but you didn’t want to jump and make conclusions. “I don’t like him in that way,” you paused, “If that’s what you’re implying.” So much for not jumping to conclusions Y/N.
He turned to you. “Forget it.” He said about to get off your bed, but your hand reached out for his arm, which stopped him. He looked down at your hand on his arm, and then looked at you again. “Y/N…” He trailed off.
“You’re so smart, but you’re so stupid. You know that right?” Slight confusion washed over his face at your comment. “Do you wanna know what I finally figured out before you came in here ruining my train of thought?”
He let out a small laugh. “What?”
“This.” You said, and in an instant, you leaned up, your lips on his. They were softer than you had imagined them. A smile formed on your lips while kissing him, and you felt a small one form on his. You released your lips from his, and looked at his face, he looked slightly sad at the loss of contact.
“Y/N…” He trailed off again.
“Let me finish first.” You sounded demanding, and he just nodded. “For as long as I’ve known you, I felt something for you. For basically forever, I really had no idea what that feeling was. I wasn’t sure if I had a crush on you or if I just liked you as a friend. I was really confused for a really long time. The only things I was sure about, was that you made me feel safe and comfortable. Whenever I’m around you, I just feel so warm and calm.” You grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. He looked down at your hands together for a moment, before looking up at you again. “Being alone the past couple of days because of this stupid injury has given me a lot of time to think. And I finally came to the conclusion that what I’ve felt for you basically my entire life has been romantic. And I hate myself that it took me this long to finally figure out.”
“Better now than never.” He smiled softly and so did you. “Y/N, I’ve always had feelings for you. But I didn’t really know how to act on them or even if I should because we were friends. Cliché as this sounds, I didn’t want to ruin a perfectly good friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to be in your life anyway that I could; and even if it was in a way that was just your friend, I was kind of okay with that.” You raised a brow at him, skeptical. “Well, I wasn’t okay with it. But, I would have much rather had you in my life as friend, than not having you in my life at all.” He squeezed your hand.
“Looks like we both made some mistakes.” You started to rub your thumb on top of his hand.
“Yeah.” He said, staring at you a moment. His look at you was soft, and he leaned in. His face was centimeters from yours, and you could feel his breath hitting your lips.
“Sam…” You began to say, but were cut off when his lips were on yours. The way he kissed you was filled with want, but also comfort.
“Finally!” You both heard Dean say. The two of you retracted from the kiss, slightly jolted from the small audience that was watching you kiss. The two of you looked over at Dean who was standing in the doorway of your bedroom with a glass of whiskey in hand.
“How long have you been standing there?” Sam asked, turning towards his brother.
“Long enough to listen to your chick-flick moment.” He smirked and in unison, you and Sam rolled your eyes.
“That’s kind of creepy ya’know.” You said.
“But what kind of brother and friend would I be if I wasn’t slightly creepy?” He paused for a moment. “That came out wrong.” He said. You and smiled laughed. “I’m gonna….I’m gonna go.” He nodded to himself. “Yeah.” He said and went down the hallway, probably towards the War Room.
You and Sam turned your attention to each other again. “That was awkward.” You said.
“Just a little.” He smiled, and kissed you briefly again before getting out of your bed. “To be continued?” He asked.
“I get my bandages off today.” You smirked and so did he. “Probably after dinner specifically.”
Sam looked at the clock on your wall and then turned to you. “Five hours and counting.” He smiled and you grabbed your phone, opening up the timer feature on your phone.
“I’ll set a timer,” you said and set out a five hour timer, and turned the phone screen to Sam to show him that the five hour timer was going down.
“You’re ridiculous.” He said and started to head out of your room.
“I love you too!” You shouted.
#sam winchester imagine#spn imagine#supernatural imagine#sam winchester imagines#spn imagines#supernatural imagines#reader x sam#sam x reader#reader x sam winchester#sam winchester x reader
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"You should bloggggg!"
If y'all say so.
I've been told I'm pretty entertaining when I tell stories. Lately, my stories are mostly dating related and few and far between. I'm generally just watching whatever I'm binging, or reruns of Trixie and Katya.
So I'll start this story from the beginning of this year. I turned 30 in March, and literally everything since then is a fucking rollercoaster. Mostly excellent, but the fun, tragically hilarious shit is what we're focusing on here. My ex and I broke up because she wanted to get back together with our old roommate. Yes, back together, old roommate. That's a different mess but after 3 1/2 years, if your choice is someone whose teeth are more congruently jagged with yours then please, date your cousin. 🤷🏻♀️
So we break up, and WHAT ELSE DO YOU DO AFTER YOU'VE BEEN DATING WOMEN FOR A FEKKIN DECADE but sleep with a guy. Y'all chill, I've been to this rodeo (a lotttttt). So the fucking hilarity is I'm just like hell ya, sleeping with someone who I've always been friends with and this can be super easy RIGHT?! Obviously Karen if you have to ask the answer is absolutely not- make this as painfully awkward as possible. So this carried on for ya know like, 3 or 4 months or some shit. My *ass* catches some feels, duh, but it doesn't work out. Here's where I can be an ADULT THIRTY YEAR OLD GDI but why? It didn't work out supposedly because the sex fizzled out or whatever wording was chosen to explain to me why the ghosting happened on his part but the truth is whiskey dick is a HELL of a condition and some people can't own up to it. The TEA is that a lot went into this! Meeting family, going to weddings, annual summer parties- but ya know. Whiskey. Fucking. Dick. AND EVEN BETTER after literally being told "here's why I ghosted" I get told it's because he was thinking about me AFTER the girl he had been seeing/liking/literally who gives a fuck got a boyfriend and he was sad. Sad, Barbara. Lmao. I can't make any of this or the following up. THEN this idiot sends me a snap of himself in the shower with a beer and says, "Have a beer with me?" No, lmao. I also posted a song on snap by an artist named James Bay, and his ass with the same first name is like, "Am I your James Bae lololololol" STFU you ain't funny.
Oooooooookay so ironically this same weekend i find out there are really creative ways to cover up whiskey dick, another guy I'd gone out with a few times told me I was "a lot". This fuckin' guy. Check this out: so I go out with this guy for drinks. I think we hit it off, we text quite a bit, whatever. So he's like why don't you come to my place for whiskey and TV binge. I'm like, "Y'all, I love a good night in. Yes. Absolutely." So I go to his place, we talk and he shows me around and is perfectly nice. I need to also mention now, before the audacity this child had is discussed, that I am pretty picky about height. I like girls my height or a bit taller, and I like guys literally as tall as the Red Wood Forest. These aren't set in stone but I just want to feel ~*~like a lady~*~ and someone being taller than me does that for me. This dude is 5'8". I'm 5'7". So you can already assume I'm trying to tell myself if he's a decent person I will clam up, put out and be okay. Well, I'll be the first to say if I am sitting on a couch and your choice is to approach me from above like a swooping (tiny) falcon and aggressively kiss me with no preface, you gotta miss me with that bullshit. But, again, let's just see where this goes. I mean I fucking shaved, what did I THINK I was doing this night?? Okay, so we make out and things move along and we decide to go to the bedroom and obviously we had *iNtErCoUrSe*. But the fucking thing is, he did this like dirty talk but like- not well. If someone has to incessantly ask me if I like something, chances are I either already don't or I certainly won't anymore. So, I just knew with each drying pump, I would have to say something or ensure the most inflamed vaginal lips on earth and I ain't trying to have that. So I tell him, "Hey, dirty talk just isn't doing it for me." THIS FUCKING GUY had the god damn nerve to tell me I would just need to get ear plugs. Wrong, bucko. Absolutely, unequivocally not correct. And more over, when he hit me with the typical, "I can't get off with a condom, I'm a twat," I was like well that's too bad. "Do you want to suck it?" Y'all, I hollered. No, I sure don't bud. I sure the fuck don't. So I left.
Honourable mentions before I continue: super short guy who lied and told me he was 5'8" and is irrevocably 5'5". Also, another guy who I had EVERY FUCKING GOLD-COVERED, GIFT-WRAPPED CHANCE TO POSSIBLY DATE and would have been great, but don't worry I let ol Whiskey Dong cloud my judgment so whatever.
So then I meet this chick. Super attractive you GUYS. About my height, long dark hair, super fun and we seem to get along great. But fun fact, she's married. Her husband and she have a polyamorous relationship and everything is cool so ya know what THIS IS 30. Well, she cons me in to going out with her on a random Wednesday because her husband wants to meet me. Well, in case I was curious what my jam is right now- he solidified that it's men. I kiss BOTH OF THEM JESUS and have a blast and it's just fun. Then she's like, no chill I have to see you all the time omg you don't feel well I can come lay around with you omg. Girl, no you cannot. Then I'm just like, "I can't do this." Well my fucking God she sure did have her husband call me because of this. Y'all calm down, this lay ain't even that great SEE ABOVE FOR CHARACTER REFERENCES. I haven't heard from her since yesterday which is honestly the longest yet and I'm glad.
I did meet a new guy, so far so good. But I'm not saying anything until I ruin it, at which point I'll be back with more tales from the crypt. 🖤
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@annoyedlord is the reason i’m doing a homestuck crossover in 2018
Get Ready for Yansimstuck ideas !!
(long so more under the cut)
John is Senpai. Does not care about the rumors (ho you murdered your friend, it’s ok we can still date) but still cares enough to reject a -100 rep (cf. breakup with vriska and #notahomosexual) “What do you mean in love! the heart on this bento is clearly a frienship heart. aaaw it’s even written “ I love you”. as a friend. so cute.“
Dave is Midori but instead of questions he shitposts. He actually wears midori's uniform because he looks amazing in a seifuku. Sometimes two different Dave show up at the same time and panic ensues
Rose is the head of the Occult Club but unlike oka she’s proud of it and threatens people with curses and sacrifices while being perfectly poised. Goes to prides with a sign that reads “you were right. we are witches. and now we’re pissed.” does not have a crush on senpai because she is #notaheterosexual. Kanayas girlfriend
jade is the head of the science club. explosions. lots of them
Aradia is placeholder-chan. Member of the occult club when she was alive and she was H Y P E D about death. Her greyish shade, monotone otherwordly voice and eyes staring into the Void are her ways of showing excitement
Tavros is a member of the gaming club though he plays card instead of video games (except pokemon which he played every and all existing versions and forms of the game). is bullied.
Sollux is annoyedlord’s gema. Head of gaming club. Does not care. Does not want to care. Just want to code. Go away. NO HE WON’T MAKE AN OFFICIAL REQUEST FOR THE CLUB
Karkat is osana. “MOVE IT FUCKASS I’M NOT GONNA STAY HERE AND WAIT FOR YOUR WEAK FLESHY LIMBS TO CARRY YOU ALL DAY” enoguh said
Nepeta is the art club leader. Would like to paint with blood. is not allowed to. but she would like to. but she can’t. but it’s hers. but she can’t. Cats paintings are OVER 9000
Kanaya is a member of the drama club and makes all the costumes. Rose’s grilfriend. “why do the school allow an occult club they’re such a bunch of cre- OW Kanaya watch out with these needles! “ “Oh So Sorry Darling. Perhaps If You Kept Your Mouth Shut Instead Of Talking Such Nonsense You Could Focus On Not Fidgeting.”
Terezi is megami. Annoyedlord perfectly understands why this is perfect “ *L1CK5* 41SH1 WHY D0 Y0U T45T3 L1K3 BL00D? >:?"
Vriska is Osoro. doesn’t care about the rules, tries way too much, likes to wear jackets, will kill you if you attack her. Student council can’t do shit about her “Soooooooo Student Council President, what are you w8ting for to give me detention” “ S3RK3TV YOU NEVER GO TO DETENTION >:|” “::::D”
Equius is a member of the student council. He likes the president’s policy on STRONG discipline but hates that they can do nothing about the delinquents
Gamzee. Tried to be a delinquent but his pompadour wouldn’t hold up. tried to join the occult club but rose’s cat starting hissing when he entered the room. Then rose started hissing. tried to join the art club but would creep other members out and got kicked out on decision of student council. Current member of the cooking club. “how do you pass your exams you never go to class” “MoThErFuCkInG MiRaClEs BrOtHeR”
Eridan is a member of the student council. always pushes to expell or kill the delinquents or even underachieving students. has a crush on the entire school. Perfect for matchmaking
Feferi is mai Waifu but is a social butterfly instead of a loner. Is -EXCIT-ED about her glub club although it’s not an official one. is really popular in the school. strong opponent to bullies
Jane is the leader of the baking club. Pretty popular but unlucky when it comes to love. accepted gamzee and already regrets it. Useless BisexualTM
Dirk is a member of the science club. Helps cleaning the explosion. The rest of the club is entirely composed of his robots
Roxy is a member of the gaming club. She competes with sollux on coding. She sometimes helps the science club. Sneaks alcohol into school that somehow flies under the student council’s radars.
Jake is Budo. He is hyped about self defense and heroism but he needs to chill out and work on his agressive recruitment methods. trains to beat the science club members aka robots and Dirk. And jade sometimes throws inventions at him. Which explodes. The school staff is very tired of their “light spirited strifes between chaps”.’’
Damara is ghost girl. She knows her murderer’s descendant is in the school and she is revengefull. There will be blood
Rufioh is Asu Rito. he likes to enlist his friend into the sports club. As the club’s leader he’s very popular and he knows it
Mituna is a delinquant. 2cool4school. He needs helps with his pompadour in the morning which he will immediatly ruin with his helmet but he’s cool so they don’t kick him out of the club. Also latula would kick their ass and Vriska thinks he’s fun
Kankri is a member of the student council. Uses his whistle in the library when students are too loud. gets kicked out of the library for whistling. Strongly opposes bullying but his constant remprimands on socialy unadapted student can sometime appear as similar. also tends to encourage self-loathing instead of actual recovery. “Th9ugh I d9 enc9urage dial9gue instead 9f vi9lent means, have y9u c9nsidered that entering a therapist’s waiting r99m with scarificati9n marks c9uld be triggering t9 the 9ther patients ?” “OMG K4NKR1 NO SHUT UP D:< !! K1D YOU GO S33 4 TH3R4P1ST. 4ND NOY TH3 SCHOOL ON3 SH3′S 4LW4YS DRUNK.”
Meulin tried to enter the occult club but rose said she didn’t have The Call though she may have hidden motives. pretty popular since she’s sweet and with an upbeat personnality though few people in the school know sign language. having Terezi give her the school tour when she arrived did not seem like a good idea. it wasn’t
Porrim is the leader of the drama club. “you can’t play hamlet, you’re a girl and you have piercing and tatoos.” “The fact that yo+u think that shakespeare wo+uld disapro+ve of piercing and tato+o+s is but the pro+o+f that yo+u understand no+thing o+f Shakespeare. As fo+r being a girl, if yo+u can’t play a man, what cho+ice do+ I have but to+ play it myself ?” “Kurlo+z my dear these stiching are dreadfully made go+ see kanaya she’s work something o+ut”
Latula final member of the gaming club and and delinquent. actualy aims to being a professional player. Comes to class on skateboard. Mituna’s girlfriend.
Aranea is Kokoro. She acts really sweet and helpful but knows all the gossips and talks behind the back of everyone. meenah trusts her. She probably shouldn’t
Horrus is a former member fo the science club which he left for the sports club when Rufioh became the leader. is very insecure about himself and his choices, kinda miss the science club but trusts Rufioh.
Kurloz is a member of the occult club. obsessed with demon summoning. Would probably be bullied if he didn’t scared the shit out of everyone. Rose constantly keep him in check and refuses that his girlfriend joins the club. Meulin’s boylfriend
Cronus is Spiky. Great Master of The PompadourTM. Tries too much. Pretends he smokes. His big brother actually kills people. Was the delinquants’ leader before Vriska arrived “Back off doll this ain’t a place for a chick like you. Unless, you came to see m- OWV STOP PLEASE THIS HURT” “::::D”
Meenah is Musume. Loanshark’s daughter, mean, filthy rich, doesn’t like to do boring stuff and has her yes on senpai to kill him.
Pop is the headmaster and instead of a tazer he uses pranks
Mom is the teachers. all of them. and the nurse. and the psychiatrist. at least she’s not the lunchlady. probably not.
Bro is ayano. He is a creep. And a dick. And an abuser. and a dick. annoyedlord would like me to let you know that Bro is also a dick
Grandpa is the sport teacher. he uses tigers and cheetas to make his sudents run faster
dad is the policemen. All of them. The entire policeforce of the town is dad. at least he’s not the lunchlady. probably not
nana is the detective. she’s probably the tunchlady
Lil Cal is Ryoba
#homestuck#yandere simulator#yansimstuck#beta kids#alpha kids#beta trolls#alpha trolls#beta gardians#time for the individual tags#john egbert#dave strider#rose lalonde#jade harley#jane crocker#jake english#roxy lalonde#dirk strider#aradia megido#damara megido#tavros nitram#rufioh nitram#sollux captor#mituna captor#karkat vantas#kankri vantas#nepeta leijon#meulin leijon#Kanaya maryam#porrim maryam#terezi pyrope
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So I’m relatively certain that the Barnes & Noble that I went to today has officially dubbed me as the Satan worshipper/serial killer girl. :’)
Let me tell you guys a STORY about my friggin’ day today. Oh my.
I finished the book that I had been reading, so I returned to the bookstore and went straight back to the death literature section. The Barnes & Noble I went to this time didn’t have that large of a selection, so I looked through a few books and then decided to move on to another area of the store.
I found myself in the myths and legends section, and it honestly made me really happy! I want to learn more about myths/what people used to believe in, so I grabbed a book that looked interesting.
A little time passed, and I kept wandering around. I had gathered a couple of random books from here and there, and then I had a thought.
I want to learn about death from all aspects. Now that I had finished a very graphic and blunt book, I wanted to try to see it from a different angle. I’ve always loved the macabre, and I’ve always been drawn to things that most people consider “dark.” It’s not that I necessarily believe in demons or the devil or things like that, but I’m intrigued to learn about it all. So, I discreetly tried to locate The Satanic Bible.
Well, as some of you may know, I’m the least low-key person, and usually my luck is not on my side. I went up to the customer service kiosk, and I thought (incorrectly) that since the computer was facing me, that I could just type whatever I wanted into it. So I promptly typed in “The Satanic Bible” and boom. They had it! Literally not two seconds after the results popped up, the lady working the help desk came over to me and informed me that I wasn’t supposed to be touching the computer. Oops. And then, before I could even erase what I had typed in, she was next to me, staring at the screen. She kind of just said, “.....oh!...” and then glanced at the pile of books I had stacked next to me on the counter. As she asked in a little voice if I needed a carrier for them, I realized what book was on top. In big, bold letters it said, “SERIAL KILLERS.”
Fan-fucking-tastic.
So, she walked past me and (very quickly) brought me to the section where my not-so-secret book should have been. She looked for a few minutes, and then concluded that it must have been misplaced somewhere because it wasn’t there. I kept trying to smile at her, to show her that I wasn’t some crazy chick; I was just trying to educate myself and not let stigmas or superstitions get in my way. But I couldn’t communicate that to her, because she would. not. look. at. me. I thanked her for her help, and she disappeared.
I felt really bad, because she seemed like a super sweet lady and I kind of felt like I must have ruined her night. But, even with that thought going through my mind, I couldn’t stop fucking laughing. It was like everything just went so perfectly wrong in such a graceful sequence. I laughed all the way up to the cashier.
The cashier had bright purple hair, and as I approached him, we both complimented one another’s hair. Without missing a beat, he looked at my arm, tilted his head and said, “Did you hit the wrong side of a rose bush?” It honestly caught me off guard, as it always does, but for some reason I guess I had expected him to not mention it. I don’t know why. So I just said no, and when he waited for a further explanation, I just awkwardly smiled. He changed the topic to tattoos, and we talked for a minute about that. He mentioned that he would only get a couple of tattoos related to something about Solomon (? I think that’s what he said, at least). I had zero idea what that was, so he informed me that it’s “ancient demonology.” I bet this dude never had someone go, “MAN, AM I RELIEVED TO HEAR YOU SAY THAT!” in response to his answer. I told him about my encounter with the other worker, and I told him she probably thinks I’m some nutso. He reassured me that it was fine, and then he told me that I should come back sometime and we could talk all about demons! Cool!
It was such a weird night. But I may take him up on his offer, because I really am interested to learn as fully and diversely as I can.
I think I’m going to have to order my Satanic Bible online - which I probably should’ve done in the first place - but oh well.
So that was my night! Seriously the most random, hilarious, fucked up jumble of experiences I’ve had in a while.
Yikes.
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nothing i gotta prove | madsby
WHO: Madison McCarthy & Crosby Wilde ( @crosbywilde )
WHAT: Madison’s a mess, and Crosby’s in the right place at the right time.
WHERE: Miami beach.
WHEN: Thursday, March 30, night. Spring break #tbt.
WARNINGS: Underage drinking.
Madison was drunk. Well, she wasn't, if you asked her; she'd tell you she was 'fiiiine' and then laugh at the very idea. She'd been doing a lot of laughing - she'd been drinking since the sun went down, and even though she'd been drinking water too, she was definitely tipsy. At the moment, she had nobody to laugh with and nobody to dance with, which meant that she was both lonely and bored, so when she spotted Crosby across the beach, tucked into the shadows near the fire, her entire face lit up with a smile. "Cros!" Madison called, scooting her way through the entire population of McKinley to get to him. "Cros!" She repeated, finally managing to come to a stop in front of him. "Look! I'm drunk! And in a bikini!" She held her arms up and spun around, showing off her bikini top and short-shorts, as if he couldn't see them perfectly well. "So we're square 'cause that's why you came!" Madison giggled and rested one hand against her head--dizzy, woof. "Hi, Cros," she said, smile turning a little bit shy as she tried to actually focus on him. "Are you havin' fun?"
Crosby's idea of an epic spring break didn't include spending the whole time at the beach with a bunch of Lima's lamest, but here he was; the fire crackling beside him and an unmistakable voice calling his name. A voice that would've caused him to run in the other direction a few weeks ago, now had a lazy smile tugging at his lips, not that he'd admit that to the small brunette. He flicked away his cigarette (because of course he was smoking), just in time to greet the girl with a laugh. He didn't mean to laugh, but shit, she was drunk off her ass and seeing a girl like Madison in this state was hard not to find amusing. "I'm having more fun now, that's for sure. This look works for you, you should wear this more often." He gladly let his eyes take her in, in his mind she was dressed that way for him, it'd be wrong not to let them wander. "Come on, sit before you hurt yourself." He didn't wait for a response, pulling her down into the sand to sit with him. "What have you been drinking tonight? Who gave it to you?"
Madison flopped next to Crosby obediently, burying her bare feet in the sand with a contented sigh. She looked up at the sky above them - the light pollution was still pretty bad, but she could see stars she didn't recognize in the sky. Or maybe she did, and she was just too drunk to remember their names. The sand was cold but the fire was warm and she couldn't really feel it thanks to the alcohol in her system; she bumped Crosby's shoulder gently before she spoke. "Somebody brought dragonberry rum," Madison said with a shrug, lifting a pile of sand into her hand only to let it trickle back between her legs to the beach. "I poured it myself," she promised, looking back at Crosby with a winning smile. "I'm not totally dumb, you know. Mixed it with my--my own closed bottle of Sprite," Madison added, brushing her hair behind her ear. "And I can't wear this more often 'cause it's cold in Lima," Madison pouted. "Whatcha been doin' all by your lil lonesome over here?"
Crosby nodded along, making a mental checklist as Madison drunkenly went on. She poured it herself into her own closed bottle, two things that were music to his ears, and the flavor of the alcohol screamed that a chick brought it along, which eased any worries he might've had. The last thing he needed tonight was having to kick the crap out of someone for trying to take advantage of her. "It won't be cold there forever." He assured her, taking a handful of sand and playfully tossing it in Madison's direction. "I'm gonna expect you to break out the bikini the second it hits 75." Crosby sighed, even drunk Madison was nosy. He hadn't done much of anything, a couple empty beer cans were tossed to the side, but other than that he was just enjoying being at the beach. It's not like it happened often. "I've been relaxing, watching the waves. Patiently waiting for a hot girl to come over just dying to get a taste of skinny dipping in the ocean. Think you're that girl?" He asked, with an eyebrow raised and a devilish smirk. "It's cool if you're not, but you're ruining my chances of a hookup here."
Madison giggle-squealed as he tossed sand at her, hiding her face in her arm. "I can't go skinny-dipping," Madison huffed, even as a smile toyed at the edges of her lips. "There are people around," Madison said, gesturing to the crowd on the beach. "But if you wanna get in the water we can," she added, looking back at him. "But that would probably make me less--less sober--er, no, I mean, more sober. Soberer." Madison frowned deeply, momentarily confused, before she shook her head. "Or I could just find a cute girl! You're such a good guy, you should have all the hookups you want." Madison reached over to pat the top of his head. Her fingers caught on his hair and she let out a soft gasp, moving to her knees to face him. "Your hair. Is so soft! Oh my gosh," Madison giggled, fascinated. "Gosh."
Crosby felt less amused the more Madison spoke. It was funny at first, it always was, someone who didn't typically drink succumbing to the world of dragonberry rum and losing themselves in it. But he cared too much about her to get to enjoy it properly, not while he himself was stone cold sober. "Whoa, okay let's not get ahead of ourselves here." For some reason she saw him as a good guy, but that wasn't the case. Even if he was in a position to take advantage of her and he was doing the opposite instead, that didn't mean anything. "I think we're gonna have to get you some--" Water. That's how he would've finished his sentence if her next act hadn't stunned him into silence. Her fingers ran through his hair, which he admittedly enjoyed, but the sight of her on her knees in front of him wasn't something he expected to happen. At least not this soon. "I use conditioner." He deadpanned, taking her hands in his and rising to his feet. "Come on, we're either getting in the water or getting you some to drink, cause you desperately need something to make you soberer." He insisted, a hint of mockery in his tone.
Madison wrinkled her nose as he stood up, resting back on her legs to squint up at him. "Crosby Wilde, the beauty-tipper buzzkiller," Madison said, reluctantly moving to her feet too. "What if...what if instead of getting me sobererer and going anywhere," Madison began, a hint of a smile on her face as she toyed his hands through hers. "What if we just danced instead?" Madison spun under his arm and let out a high peal of giggly laughter as she spun-stumbled back to him. "What if you just dance with me, Cros? 'S dark, nobody's gonna care that you're dancin' with the stick in the mud McCarthy 'nstead'a gettin' in one of the pretty girls' pants," Madison pointed out with a graceless shrug. "What if I don't wanna be--what if I like feelin' like this? I feel all floaty, innit this what everybody's always talkin' about when they tell me to relax?"
Crosby clenched his jaw as all the reasons he typically steered clear of sweet girls who were too drunk to function came rushing to mind. "I don't dance." He protested, because it was Crosby and even on his best day dancing is the last thing you'd catch him doing. But Madison didn't seem to care, and he didn't bother pulling his hands away, letting her spin as she pleased. It was kind of cute, how happy she was. "I don't care what anyone thinks, remember? You do that enough for the both of us." He pulled her close, hands falling to her hips in an attempt at steadying her. Not only was dancing not something he did, it was a horrible idea for her to do with this much alcohol in her system. Too much movement. "Yeah, pretty much. But you've taken it a step too far, you're gonna be feeling this in the morning. There's such a thing as feeling too..floaty."
Madison pouted at him again - too floaty? Impossible. But she wasn't feeling up to debating it, and he wasn't making her move, so she just wrapped her arms around his neck and half-swayed them, humming a little tune under her breath. This was nice. This was safe and warm and good. Her eyes fell closed and she let out a happy sigh, hoping she'd be able to remember that feeling, along with whatever else Crosby meant, in he morning. "Hey Cros," Madison began conversationally, voice quieter from where her cheek was resting against his shoulder. "How come you're so nice to me?" Madison peered up at him, trying to study the expression on his face. "Not--not now, cause--that's just cause you're a good guy but--but before. With--when I was all..." Madison waved a hand. "'N all the time." Madison absently brushed the curls at the base of his neck through her fingers - just like Mason's little baby hair. "I know I'm a lot. And I'm--annoying and bossy and--and selfish and kinda mean," Madison sighed. "But you're nice to me. And t'Maseface too," Madison added. "Everybody should be nice to him all the time, Cros, 'n they're not. He's the best. People are dumb." Madison sighed again and shook her head, having completely forgotten her initial question. She felt dizzy, and not in the good way; she shifted closer to Crosby again, because he was stable and sure and good and safe, and her tummy was beginning to hurt..
Crosby swayed back and forth, arms wrapped loosely around her. For someone who didn't do things like this, Crosby wasn't exactly fighting it. Although he wouldn't admit it, especially not to Madison, had it been any other girl who drunkenly stumbled over he wouldn't be in this position, holding her like this. He wasn't entirely sure where it came from, why she was different, why he had the strange need to comfort her, but the feeling was there and he couldn't shake it. "We're friends, me and Mase. You and I too, I guess." He gave her a shrug, as if it was that simple. Crosby laughed as she continued, not at her, but at the situation. If you told him months ago he'd be steadying a drunk Madison McCarthy at a bonfire in Miami he wouldn't have believed it. "Y'know, I would've guessed you were an angry drunk, not a self deprecating emotional one." He admitted, a tad reluctant to go on, but even someone as bad off as she was deserved to hear what he had to say. "Bossy, yeah, annoying sometimes. Those are spot on. But you've never been mean, not to me, and not to anyone who didn't deserve it. And I'd never call you selfish. Not when I know you'd pretty much risk your life if Mason needed it. It's funny, you think he's got all the good qualities and you got the shit end of the stick. But you raised him, so where do you think he gets them all from." He paused, a smile on his face. "It's gotta be you."
Madison giggled along with him, although she didn't understand what was funny. She liked his laugh, and she liked that they were friends - it made her whole face light up as he said it, and she believed in the moment that it was that simple, but she knew it was important all the same. Everything Crosby said was important, so she was quiet as he spoke, trying to pay attention, even though she was pretty sure he was wrong for some reason; Mason had been good since birth, which had nothing to do with her--but she couldn't find the words to argue it in her state, nor the energy to debate the fact that she raised him. "That's probably the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me all at once," Madison said instead, patting his cheek gently. "Dunno why you wanna be friends with me but I like it." Madison decided, resting her head back on his shoulder. She stayed quiet for a little while, enjoying the relative silence and the sound of the waves. "I'm angry all the time," she finally said, without lifting her head. "When I'm not--like this. Takes too much energy. 'S way easier to just..." Madison sighed happily against him. "Not care, when you're like this. More fun to dance and laugh than get all mad about stuff that's stupid. Cause a lotta stuff is stupid. Home and school and life is all really dumb, Cros. That's why I'm mad all the time. But I don't wanna be." she finished with a shrug.
Crosby smiled, not that he was going out of his way to say the nicest things about her, it just came naturally. "I didn't want to be friends with you, remember? But you're obsessed with playing mom for me and it just happened." He had the courtesy to tell her in a joking manner, even if it was the truth. He didn't regret befriending her, it was one of the best decisions he'd made since transferring to McKinley. "I used to be angry all the time." He admitted, a little surprised they had something in common, if he was honest. "Then I discovered weed." He shrugged. "You gotta figure out a way to mellow out so you don't get so pissed off all the time, and you don't care, while still being able to function. Right now," he motioned to her, as sloppy and unable to stand as she was, "this isn't functioning. Find a happy medium." He was wasting some of his best stuff on a girl that would barely remember it, and knowing him he wouldn't be so willing to offer it up again. Or maybe he would, Madison had a weird effect on him, she could get him to be serious. Not an easy feat. "C'mon, we gotta get you back to your room before you knock out right here on the beach." With that, he abandoned their private dancefloor on the sand, and started heading for the walk; McCarthy in arm.
Madison frowned but grabbed her flip-flops all the same, staying close to him. "That's not fair," she said. "That--that everybody else gets to go out and--and go bananas but I can't, and I'm not even, like, Cros, I went to Disney and now I'm with you! 'S not like, like, like I'm missing school or--or hurting anybody," Madison said, sounding like she'd had to convince herself of this before. "You--you get drugs and it's okay but it's not okay for me to feel floaty." Madison huffed, pouty frown still on her face. "I'm--I'm not mad all the time," she continued, a little quieter, a little sadder. "Just when things get..." she trailed off and shook her head, then instantly regretted the motion. Her free hand pressed against her forehead and she let out another little sigh as they crossed into the resort. "Masey's gonna be...be mad or dis-disappointed, just like you."
Crosby sighed, this wasn't the reaction he was expecting, nor one he had any idea how to deal with. "No one's gonna be mad or disappointed in you, Madison." He said truthfully. She wasn't doing anything wrong, and he highly doubted Mason of all people would try to shame her for this. "I'm not." He added, realizing for some reason his opinion mattered to her. But he said nothing more, choosing instead to focus on getting her back to the hotel and into the safety of her room. It was a..bumpy ride, to say the least, she was in no position to be walking long distances, and he thanked his lucky stars that they scored rooms not too far from the beach. "Alright, here we go." He was breathless, plopping Madison down onto the bed before falling into a chair across from it. Lugging a drunk girl for any distance was like running a marathon, he needed a drink and another smoke break. "You good?"
Madison squeaked in surprise as Crosby gave up trying to make her feet behave--they were not listening, and she was slow and silly and not really listening either, but she didn't think any amount of listening could've prepared her for Crosby Wilde carrying her to her room. Mason, sure, and the Evans boys, maybe, but..Madison giggled as she flopped back in the bed, rolling her head to look at him. "I'm peachy keen. Are you good?" Madison said. Gosh, this bed was so comfy. She didn't want to move, ever, but she also didn't want to sleep in her swim suit, so with a groan of effort she rolled over, managing to squirm her legs beneath her before she stood, moving doubtfully, carefully toward her suitcase. It was meticulously organized still, despite them being there for four days, but she made a quick mess of that as she rummaged for her pajamas - a sleeping shirt several sizes too big for her and a pair of comfy shorts. The former she just slid over her head, deftly removing the bikini from underneath and tossing it aside. She sat back on the bed with a heavy sigh and wriggled out of her shorts; the t-shirt was longer than they were anyway, and she managed to pull the pajama shorts on over her bikini bottom without too much struggle or what a less drunk Madison would consider indecency. "I can--I can hear sober me tellin' drunk me to brush my teeth an' wash my face so I don't feel like--like the creature from the black lagoon tomorrow," Madison said, fiddling with the edge of her t-shirt. It went almost to her knees. "But I don't..." Madison flicked her eyes to Crosby, chewing the edge of her lip for a moment or two. "I dunno when Face and Marley and Sammy are gettin' back or if they're..." Madison shrugged one shoulder, dropping her gaze again. "Don'tcha ever get tired of bein' alone so much, Cros?"
Crosby wasn't sure if he was supposed to watch this, look the other way, duck into the bathroom or what. A sober Madison would've demanded he avert his eyes, so that' the version of her he had in the back of his mind, as annoying as she was. He turned to face the wall, resisting the urge to peek back at the girl changing behind him, not that she was showing much of anything, but the fact that he wasn't watching was a miracle in its own right. "Good, so you're seeing what a pain sober you can be." He laughed, turning back around. Leaning back into the chair he listened to yet another deep question he didn't expect to hear tonight, the product of drunken ramblings but with too much truth to them for him to ignore. "I've spent half of my life being alone, you get used to it." He admitted honestly, it was easy for him, the only life he's ever really known. For as long as he could remember he was on his own, with his mom always at work and friends that would throw you under the bus to save their own ass he had no other choice. At least that's the way it used to be. "You want me to wait til one of them gets back?"
Madison looked at him as he spoke. Somehow, the acceptance was sadder than if he'd been upset about it. "Yeah," Madison said, softly. "I'd--yeah. You're not s'posed to leave drunk people 'lone, y'know. I could as--asph--" Madison frowned. "I could die. Then you'd hafta deal with a drunk ghost." Madison snickered and made an oooooo noise, waving her fingers at him. "Hauntcha f'rever, even more of a pain than sober me," Madison said, scooting up the bed to bury herself in the covers. Bed was amazing. She loved bed. "Cros?" She hesitated for a minute, letting out a soft sigh. She hesitated so long she almost forgot what she was going to say - almost. "I don't wanna get used to it and I don't...want you to be used to it either." Madison yawned and petted at another pillow, enjoying the feel of the feathers beneath her fingers. "I like you, Cros, but I don't...I don't think I get you yet." Madison sighed and closed her eyes. "Want to, though."
Crosby smiled, genuinely, an expression that didn't grace his face often, but had a habit of doing so in the company of Madison. It was confusing, something he wanted to hate but for the life of him he couldn't. That was sort of their friendship in general, if he really thought about it. "I'm the expert on drunk people, you don't have to tell me." Which was his way of saying yes, of course I'll stay with you, without actually having to use those words. "You'd be stuck in that outfit your entire time in the after life, so at least I'd be able to laugh at ghost you." He rose to his feet, making his way over to the bed as she seemed to be getting closer and closer to passing out. "You can't knock out on me yet." He said, going over to her suitcase in search of some ibuprofen. It was Madison, he knew she'd come prepared for anything, hangover prevention surely wasn't what she had in mind but there it was. "You're gonna take these," he started, handing a couple pills over to her as he went to the fridge for some water. "With this. Drink it all, you'll thank me in the morning."
Madison was mumbling something about 'ghost capitalism' and was most of the way to asleep when he was nudging her awake. She whined, absolutely undignified, brushing her fingers over the pills he handed her. "I'm fiiiine," Madison protested. "Just need t'sleep, I don't get hangovers." Madison pouted as he insisted on the water, reluctantly rolling over enough to sit up. "I am gonna thank you in the morning," Madison decided with a sigh, opening the water with fumbling fingers and downing a quarter of it in one gulp. "Water's awesome." Madison popped the pills and drank more water, getting it down to half the bottle. "Y'should tell me more about you," Madison said quietly, looking from the water bottle to Crosby. "'Cause...'cause you're figurin' out all my secrets and it's not fair."
Crosby nodded, murmuring an uh huh there and a sure here, mostly tuning out whatever it was she was saying to focus on getting her to drink and take the pills. A sigh of relief fell from his lips when she finally did, thankful she didn't choose now to be stubborn. "Water's amazing, I know. It's gonna be your best friend the rest of the night." Though he had the feeling she wasn't going to last much longer. "If I tell you all my secrets now you won't remember. I'm assuming you don't want that." Her current state also made it easy to get out of sharing, something Crosby wouldn't do on a regular day, but at least now he had an excuse. "Sleep now, I'll bare my soul later." He lied, getting up to pull the covers over her to make her more comfortable.
Madison sighed, a frown creasing her brow. Sleep, don't sleep, drink, don't talk, it felt like a lot and she couldn't keep track of what he wanted. She was so tired, and she just wanted to curl up and fall asleep, but she didn't want to forget what he was saying - she thought the near guarantee of her not remembering his secrets would encourage him to share. Totally not fair. "Promise?" Madison asked, catching his hand in the covers to look at him imploringly for a moment. "And you promise you'll stay?"
Crosby turned his head back towards her when she reached for his hand; she was looking for an answer, one he didn't want to give. But it was hard to look at her and say no. "Yeah, yeah. I promise. Whatever you wanna know." Something told him if she remembered anything from tonight, it'd be this. He'd leave that to bite him in the ass in the morning. "I'll stay." He assured her, sliding into the bed with her, over the covers. Whether that meant until someone else showed up or for the rest of the night, he was willing to do either. She was kinda cute when she was too sleepy to say much.
Madison grinned, settling beneath the covers as he joined her - he was warm and close and he kept her safe and in the haze of her intoxication, that was really all she wanted. "Thanks, Cros," Madison murmured, patting the top of his head gently before she pulled the covers firmly up around them both. Her other arm tucked beneath her pillow and she fixed him with one more sleepy smile. "...A good guy." Madison mumbled, mostly to the pillow, and then with one more deep sigh, she was out.
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The Love Line
I have a blister on the inside of my right hand, exactly where the “Love Line” on my palm is. I wouldn’t know about this prophetic line if it weren’t for my mother, who used to read my friends hands like they were interesting books on class field trips. The oozing red bump is the relic of a war between myself and the plaster wall in my small New York apartment. For the last three hours, I have held a screwdriver tight in my sweaty palm, attempting to install two hanging bars on the side of my wall, to hang my clothes from my overflowing closet. When I saw the indent of the screwdriver imprinted there on my hand (and felt the extreme stinging sensation when I washed both of them shortly after) my thoughts drifted to a pretend boyfriend who should be the one installing this for me. I’m not Chip or Joana Gaines from Fixer Upper. I have never been a handyman. For some strange reason, the boyfriends of my past started to rise to the forefront of my brain. I asked myself if these men would have installed these heavy beams or would I have done it on my own? With bad memories flashing rapidly across my eyes, I thought to myself, probably the latter.
I’ve been in love exactly three times. My “first love” was Nick who I met in college. College is a tumultuous time for anybody, but I had been out for about two seconds, never had a boyfriend, and was a virgin (at least where men are concerned.) Nick and I sat next to each other for three months during a Native American Literature course, a Humanities requirement I’d been roped into taking in order to knock out both a “Diversity” and English requirement. Our professor was a New-Age hippie who used woven baskets as lunch boxes and let us take class on the grassy hills outside of our classroom building. He loved talking about Peyote and made us watch movies about it. Because of our quirky Prof., Nick and I exchanged telling glances and silently laughed with each other about all the ridiculous shit our teacher said, but didn’t utter a single word to each other for nearly 8 weeks. It wasn’t until we were assigned a group project that we officially introduced ourselves.
“Nick and Mathew, you two will tackle the book Smoke Signals.” Our prof said.
I was excited because I was secretly interested in him already mostly because he was inhumanely gorgeous. Tall, toned, with big ears and a mischievous smile, I was already imagining what he looked like naked when I sat next him. We first met at the library to start researching and we seemed to hit it off. I learned that Nick was an athlete, wanted to be a doctor, and didn’t like tequila. I told him about my friends, my secret obsession with pugs, and how I wanted to drop out of college and become a writer. He seemed very relaxed, confident, and like a nice straight boy who didn’t mind working with an awkward homosexual. It wasn’t until we were working alone one night at his studio apartment that lines were crossed.
I don’t remember what we were talking about. I don’t think it was that important, but suddenly he looked super intensely into my eyes and planted one right on my lips. To this day, it is the most surprising thing that has ever happened to me. I felt just like Molly Ringwald at the end of Sixteen Candles. Nick was my Jake. He was so out of my league, and like I said, I didn’t think he was gay. Apparently, he agreed with me, because immediately after we kissed, he said, “If you tell anyone that just happened, I’ll kick your ass.”
So began my first real relationship ever. I should’ve known from his reaction that this was going to be a shitshow. But I was young, dumb, and perfectly happy to get fucked regularly by the hottest man I’d ever seen. Fornication happened less than a week later, when we saw each other out at a bar, and he awkwardly texted me that night asking me to come over. In true dramatic flair, I let him steal my virtue, and once he did that, I was hooked. But as our relationship progressed, he created major boundaries for us. He didn’t want anyone to know he was a homosexual. I was fine with that. But he took it to extremes. We never spoke during Native American Literature, even sitting right beside each other. If I saw him out on a Friday night, I wasn’t allowed to say hello or acknowledge his existence at all. He wouldn’t come over to my apartment in case my roommates showed up and saw him there. While a normal person would’ve been like, “Go fuck yourself”, I managed to romanticize our forbidden love so deeply that it reminisced entering a K-hole. I became OBSESSED with our secret time spent together and this person who didn't even act like he knew me. I told myself that our relationship was special.
Then I did something bad: I started discussing my secret relationship with my friends. When I let it slip that I had told my best friend and roommate about him, Nick LOST his mind. He threw a heavy bottle of Acqua di Gio at his television and cracked the screen. I thought he was going to punch me, but he surprised me again. Instead he started bawling like a baby and told me he loved me. That's when he started to cling on to me and when I first encountered real love. He texted me regularly. He started saying HELLO to me in class! When we were alone he told me he was looking at apartments for us to live in, together. It seemed like he was getting comfortable with being gay, and we were about to go public and live happily ever after like the princess I've always thought I've been.
I was totally wrong. He only said those things to keep me around, which he did for another semester. One night, I noticed a picture of him with a pretty girl that I had never seen before. Caught, he admitted that he had been dating the girl since middle school. While WE WERE DATING. The entire time!! He was embarrassed, he said. He would hide her pictures every time I came over. He was playing me and some random chick I didn't know. This time, it was my turn to throw something. I threw my phone at it his head, got up, and haven't spoken to him since. Through Facebook stalking in the dead of night, I've discovered that he’s married to that girl, which stings more than this blister. After the devastating anguish I felt from our break up, I decided I needed to have a deeper connection with someone. If I was dumb enough to blindly love someone without really knowing them, then I wasn’t ready for a relationship.
The next time I fell in love, I made sure to rectify my mistake by falling for my best friend. Sam and I met on our first day of work at a shitty Asian restaurant in Nashville. If you haven’t worked in a restaurant, let me give you the low down: about ten horny twenty-somethings inhale enough adderall to wipe out a small village, yell at rude customers about their annoying food modifications, get off at midnight, binge drink til 3 AM, and then find an after party to keep the debauchery going. Every. Single. Night. This is how Sam and I first became friends - through partying. We went out together all the time. Our laughter over drinks extended into the sobriety of day time and our relationship became the deeper connection I had been searching for after Nick. Over an awkward drunk text, we both admitted that we liked each other and soon I found myself driving to his condo in sweatpants to “cuddle.” This time around, I allowed myself to be 100% vulnerable, telling Sam things I haven’t told anybody (and to this day, never will.) Looking back, I shouldn’t have been so forthcoming. He didn’t need to know all of my quirks, but he was charming as fuck and seemed genuinely interested. In those first weeks, I let myself fall HARD. We listened to and critiqued music together. We watched stupid movies and smoked joints. We talked about fashion and judged each other's "going out" outfits. I wanted to be around him all the time and he kept saying things like, "I just want to date my best friend." HELLO!! BEST FRIEND OVER HERE.
That’s why I was devastated when he told me he started hanging out with another coworker. Over drinks one night, I let him know, very loudly, that I hated him, that he ruined our friendship, and that I didn’t like him that much anyway. Which was a complete lie. I knew I was in love with him. I compared myself to his new boyfriend constantly. I started talking to myself when I saw them together. "He's not as cute as me. He's not going to love him as much as I can. He’s just going to end up hurting him!” I would chant to myself under my breath.
Eventually, I let him go. I sat, bided my time, and watched him and his boyfriend for two years from the outskirts, hoping they’d break up. To my delight, they did. Of course, I couldn’t let us be just friends once that happened. I pressured him into hooking up with me even though I knew it would fuck with my emotions. I made him feel bad about not wanting to be with me. I made myself so embarrassingly available to him. During one crazy coke-fueled night, I confessed to him on the floor of our boss's bathroom that I thought I loved him. And then when he let me stay over, in his bed, naked, I would attempt to remain calm and cool, like I didn't care about what we were doing. Like I couldn't get hurt from any of it.
I’m won't put all blame on myself because he did reciprocate my feelings at times, but generally only when we were fucked up. In the morning after, we would wake up and get lunch and then I felt him shift away from me like he knew he took advantage of my feelings and felt guilty about it. The last time we hung out, at least sexually, we were so high we were scrolling through Craigslist and Grindr for speed and a third person to “spice things up.” I am positive that is when our relationship finally got too intense for him. We both felt awkward about the entire situation. In a matter of two minutes, we had let other people into our pretend bubble where we hooked up and had no repercussions. That bubble popped with the ferocity of a piece of blowing gum. He went back to his boyfriend while I went to bed alone. We didn’t speak for four months and now I feel knots in my stomach with each text he sends, asking how I am. From Sam, I learned to find a deep connection, but remain guarded in your feelings. We never officially dated but I felt (and still do) like our connection was so intense we didn’t need labels (even though I wanted that from him very badly.) That lesson has been invaluable. I will never open myself up to another person like that. Period.
The last time I fell in love was chaotic. I took the boy for granted, and didn’t realize I was in love until we broke up. I met Craig on Tinder after the first time Sam and I fizzled out. We slept together the first night we met. We got so shitfaced we didn’t use protection, which was a first for me. The next day, I felt so ashamed I made myself go to Planned Parenthood to get tested (luckily it all came back negative). I refused to let us be what we should’ve been: a one night stand. Instead, I kept texting him. We hung out, had decent sex, and got expensive dinners neither of us could afford. We watched Bollywood movies together. I felt so happy laying my head on his chest when he fell asleep. He was so handsome, tall with dark features, just how I like 'em! We drank beers at low lit bars and talked about how we couldn't wait to get home to rip each other's clothes off. He really listened to me complain about work. I pretended to listen to him complain about work. And that was how our relationship begain: over complaints.
He was a musician. I had never dated a singer before and will never do it again. They are the worst. They are so self-involved and obsessed with their own projects that the music swells up into an invisible third person, antagonizing the relationship whenever it wants. Because of that, I passive-aggressively made Craig's life a living hell while we were together. I needed to be the top priority in his life, even if he wasn’t the top one in mine. He wanted me to stay over all the time. I didn't want to do that. I wanted to go out and party with friends. I couldn't take him out with me because all of my friends hated how drunk he would get. That's where a lot of our first fights stemmed from. And I loved to fight with him. We were super combative and we both got so turned on by being fucking assholes to each other.
I demanded constant attention but he had a wandering eye. We had no trust in our relationship. Another turn on. I hated his music and he hated that I bought expensive shoes. We argued ALL the time about that. We were so unsupportive of each other, that even when we tried actually being so, it never came off as genuine. But neither of us would break up with each other. That's when it felt the most like love in our relationship. We put up with each other because we loved each other so much. We spent more time together. I got another serving job, but this time WITH him. I felt like I was living at his place. I housesat for him when he went on tour and took his dog for walks. Meanwhile, we just kept pushing each other's buttons. One time, Nashville shut down because of a blizzard. I was trapped in his apartment with no food other than make-it-yourself bread (who knew that was a thing?) and no sign of an escape, since my car was a foot underneath clean white snow. We started that weekend happy, two lovers excited to be off work and with each other and playing in the snow and fucking. But within hours, annoyance entered the room like the cold frost outside. By the end of the weekend, he was trying to convince me to drive into work even though he knew how anxious I got driving in perfect weather! I felt like he was trying to kick me out of his apartment. We got into such a bad fight that I succumbed to his wishes and drove myself (very slowly) home, where I opened up a notebook and listed all the reasons I hated him.
He dumped me via phone call when I was at work one morning not long after that. Wow, did my feelings change. I felt like a piece of shit. Sam and I were never official, so I’d never been dumped before. The moment Craig hung up, I told myself that I had just let the love of my life walk away. I hadn't spent eight months fighting this dude for nothing. I was head-over-heels-in-mother-fucking-LOVE with this person. And I threw all my energy into getting him back. My love for him became manic. It's all I could think or talk about and I had a plan.
I worked out every single day. I never ate, so I dropped probably 10 pounds, and became lean and fit. This was part of my grand scheme: become hot. And then I forgave him for things I would never forgive another person for, like when he slept with one of my friends TWO DAYS after we broke up. You can bet that I will never speak to that friend ever again, but I let it slide with Craig because I loved him and I just knew that he loved me back and didn’t realize it. I wanted to show him I was "totally cool” with whatever he did. I was "so cool" with whatever. I wanted him to see that I changed and I could accept all of his flaws now that we were officially over. When I found out he was sleeping with other people, I threw myself into a “slutty” phase (I hadn’t had one at that point) just to make him jealous. I would bring boys I met off Grindr to bars I knew he’d be at just to make him jealous. I developed a pattern. Find a guy, get shitfaced, go to bar, see Craig out, feel like shit about myself, get more shitfaced, fuck random dude, kick random dude out in the morning. The plan didn't work though. And when it didn’t work, I would harass and demean Craig, throwing every derogatory term I could think of at him via text message.
I got him to cave twice that summer and we hooked up. Both times were so empty. They had come about due to alcohol, and I could tell while we were fucking that he had no feelings for me whatsoever. He already proved that when he slept with one of my friends. He just wanted to get laid, whereas I needed him to reciprocate feelings to feel better about myself. He couldn’t do it, so I continued to lash out again until it all came to an explosive, climatic finish when I shouted at him, telling him I hoped he caught a venereal disease while we were standing across from each other on a busy bar patio during my birthday party. I wanted to make him feel as badly about himself as he made me feel about myself, and that is how i justified all these awful things I said to him. There was no other option: I had to accept rejection. I loved him, I loved him, I fucking loved him but he didn't love me. And that hurt so badly. I saw him a few times after and I was so embarrassed every time that I always tried to make a quick getaway.
I don’t think about these boys very often now. They sit buried in my subconscious, away from me. But when I took a step back from my wall to see these floating metal bars, covered in hangers, holding my sweaters, jackets, and tee-shirts, I thought about their reactions to what I had just done. And then, when I watched the beams crash to the ground, taking my clothes and giant chunk of the wall out with it, they appeared to me like ghosts:
Would Nick have been able to keep this bar secure, and stop it from ripping out of my wall?
No, he was better at ripping things apart, like our relationship.
Would Sam have been able to prevent the fall?
No. He was too short to reach the top bar and would've just consoled my fury at my own lack of self-sufficiency.
What about Craig?
I know he would’ve been able to screw it (he was always good at that) but there's no way it would last, just like us.
Memories jumped to the forefront of my mind: throwing my phone at Nick's face, telling Sam how much I hated him on the sidewalk, watching “9 to 5" with Craig with the lights off. Thats when I asked myself, "Why don't I have a boyfriend doing this for me?"
I didn't have a boyfriend because I couldn't keep a boyfriend. I only thought about myself and my needs and these men are proof that I'm unloveable. I sat down on my bed, looking down at my fallen clothes. That was the jacket I took off the first time I slept with Craig. I bought that tee-shirt with Sam at H&M three years ago. Memories, memories, memories. Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts. My heart thumped.
Then I realized I was pitying myself. I don't need a boyfriend to do this for me. I can screw this $4 Ikea clothes rack into my wall myself. So, I stood up. I took another screw out of my toolbox (yes I have a toolbox now) and tried again. Of course, it took about six tries for me to finally get these metal bars secure. But they are bolted into my wall now, a home improvement project that I did by myself for myself.
These three men have taught me a lot about who I am. They taught me what it's like to live for another person. They taught me that I don't need to live for another person. They taught me how to emotionally invest myself into something. They taught me to choose what to emotionally invest in. They taught me persistence. Patience. Humility. How to move on. I'm a better person because of these three, who truthfully, at the time, I thought ruined my life.
Sometimes, I wonder how many times will I fall in love again before I feel as secure as these bars on my wall. Unlike my mother, the Palm Reader, I can't predict that. I’ve always been one of those people in love with the idea of love. When I’m in book shops, I think about the possibility of meeting my life partner. We’d both reach out for the same shitty mystery novel, laugh, and then strike up a conversation. The rest would be history. But that hasn't happened yet. I don't know if that will ever happen. I sincerely hope it will though. I hope whoever that person is, he teaches me to just be. And maybe he'll help me put up more of these rods someday.
So I look at my hand as I write this. It may hurt from the effort I put in earlier. But I worked hard to install this new pseudo closet. Eventually, I know the blister will pop and the pain will subside. There might be a lasting scar, but I know that I can do things on my own.
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jennasaesthedic
ｊｅｎｎａ
starksrickon
remember
starksrickon
remember
yogaayurvedacourse
Untitled
strangerthanjonathan
moved to star-shuttle-scout