#some weird guy that popped out of nowhere that works odd jobs and makes up stories to mess with merchants | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wren-ravenheart · 3 years

Text

I'll Keep Your Memory

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Prompt: Childhood Memorabilia Relationships: Lambert/Jaskier Rating: T Content Warnings: Hints of child abuse, cursing, Summary: Modern Au Julian and Lambert have lived next door to each other as long as they can remember, and have been close friends for nearly as long. Lambert entrusts a box of his most prized possessions to his best friend, and spends more and more time with him and away from his own house. Before either can come to terms with what this means for them, tragedy strikes and both boys are left wondering if they'll ever see their friend again.

Cross-Posted to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31149023

Most of this is under a cut as I went Completely off the Rails with this little prompt, and this is 6k words of chaos. <3

~~~~~~~

In a small town, on a quiet street, in the middle of nowhere Redania, there lived two families who seemed completely innocuous to anyone passing by. Each family lived in a squat little cookie-cutter house with dark brick walls, a comfy front porch, and a well-maintained lawn. Each family consisted of a husband, a wife, and their only son. And there is where the similarities end, for while in one house there is love and laughter, the other holds darker secrets that would never come to light.

Julian had lived next to Lambert’s house for as long as he could remember. Their dads worked together up until recently, and the two boys were never far from each other. He considered Lamb his very best friend in the whole wide world, with his bright hazel eyes, lop-sided grin, and floppy black hair. And now, finally, at the tender age of Ten, Lambert apparently also considered him his very best friend as well.

“Julek, you have to promise me to keep these safe at all costs, okay?” Lambert had a serious look on his face as he handed him a shoebox full of his most important things. Julien took the box with trembling hands as he nodded.

“Of course. But… but why are you giving me these? You never let your trading cards out of your sight..”

Lambert shuffled back and sat on Julian’s bed with a sigh. He kept his eye on the box as the other boy turned to nestle it into a corner of his closet carefully. “Well, you know how my dad doesn’t work with your dad anymore?”

“Mhmm.”

“Yeah, well he’s lookin around the house now for anything he can get his mitts on to sell. Some of those cards took me forever to find and I ain’t about to let him get anywhere near ‘em. So they’ll stay here with you…. Along with a few other bits.”

Julian popped his head up and looked over at Lambert in awe. “You mean…”

“Yeah. It’s in there. Don’t touch it.”

He shook his head so hard he wondered if he was gonna rattle something loose. “I promise. I’ll keep it all safe.”

Lambert cracked a small smile and patted the bed next to him in invitation. Julian hurried over and plopped down, pulling his legs up to cross in front of him. He nudged the other’s shoulder slightly in hopes of more of the story.

“Not much to tell, Jules. I just don’t… I don’t have a good feeling. He’s actin’ different and Momma is quieter lately. I haven’t heard ‘em fight, but then who knows why adults are the way they are.”

Julian nodded and leaned his head over on his best friend’s shoulder. Lambert ruffled his hair and stole a quick hug before shoving him over in the bed. Julian bounced off the mattress with a laugh.

“Enough sad crap! C’mon I wanna kick your ass in Mario kart.”

He was up and out the door before Julian could roll himself off the bed. “No fair! Cheater!” And raced after him with a shout.

They didn’t talk about the box again, and Lamb only asked to see it maybe four times over the next two years. Things got progressively worse at his house as his father failed to keep a steady job and took to drinking. He overheard his own parents whispering from time to time over the state of “that poor boy’s mother” when they thought he couldn’t hear them.

He kept a watchful eye over his best friend anytime the two were playing together, trying to see whatever his parents thought they saw. He only saw Lambert acting sillier and sillier as time crept on, and spending more and more time over with him. The night of his twelfth birthday, Lambert even spent the night. It was a turning point for him.

They woke the next morning in an octopus tangle of limbs, and he felt his little pre-teen heart stutter as he suddenly noticed the way Lambert’s hair brushed his forehead, and the way the lingering chub to his cheeks only enhanced his smile. Clearly, whatever his parents thought they were seeing was wrong. His best friend was fine! More than fine, really...

He took two entire painful weeks to come to terms with the sudden crush he had developed, and another month to think of a reasonable way to admit said crush to his very best friend without terrifying him away forever. He wrote five letters to Lambert in the hopes of figuring out what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. All five ended in crumbled heaps at the bottom of his trash can.

Finally, he could take it no longer and decided to just go pay him a visit and confess it all. Patience had never been his strong suit, and what self-respecting 7th Grader kept such important information to themselves anyways?

With a quick glance at Lambert’s special box for courage, Julian marched out his front door on his mission…

Only to be brought up short at the sight of four police cars, two fire trucks, and an ambulance blocking his street and covering the lawn of his best friend’s house in various uniformed people. The bouncing red and blue lights caused him to squint as he tried to make out what was going on. Before he could even take a step forwards to investigate, his father’s hand came down on his shoulder, holding him fast. He glanced up to see his father with a grim look on his face and his mother a step behind, tears already shining in her eyes. Julian swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat as he gazed back towards Lambert’s house. His eyes burned as he tried not to cry. This wasn’t supposed to happen…and how was he ever going to confess now? Was this what his parents had been whispering about for months?

“Dad, what’s… what’s going on? Is Lambert okay?”

“I don’t know, son. I don’t know.” His voice was quiet and not at all reassuring, even as he tugged Julian into a loose hug.

His father was able to coax him back indoors with the promise of ice cream and Star Wars, but the flashing of the lights stayed with him. They would play over and over again whenever he closed his eyes. And they would haunt him again when he finally made it back outside in the late afternoon of the next day and all that greeted him was an empty street and police tape barricading off the house of his favorite person. And he knew he’d never get those lights out of his nightmares when the scene outside didn’t change, and his best friend never came back.

~13 years later~

Kaedwen was terribly muggy and sticky in late summer. The humidity made the air outside feel like it was nearly chewable, and Jaskier had to stop from time to time to wipe the sweat from his forehead as he hunted for the row his new flat was on.

Jaskier, formerly known as Julian, was enrolled in the Musical Theory graduate program at the University of Daevon, freshly turned 25, and was absolutely turned around in what he hoped was his neighborhood. He pulled a suitcase behind him and had a duffel bag hanging from his other shoulder, and looked to all the world at large to be a completely lost tourist. Four people had passed him and given him the stink eye as they went.

He took another glance at the paper his lodging information was on again and sighed heavily. This was not shaping up to be his day, or even his week.

“Lost, little puppy?”

Jaskier turned his head so fast he thought he heard something in his neck pop, bringing himself at eye level with a very tall and broad man with hair that looked like a snowdrift. He couldn’t help it, he gawked and wasn’t even subtle about it.

The man grinned at him, apparently well aware of the effect he had on strangers, and strode forward to take the paper from Jaskier’s hand without even asking. Jaskier spluttered a bit, straightening to bring himself to his full 6 foot height as the man frowned and hummed at the paper. He puffed his chest, brought up his hand, and prepared to begin a proper lecture on the rudeness of this strange man.

“Now see here - “

“You missed your flat. It’s six houses back on the left. The numbers can be a little weird around here, but if you double back you shouldn’t miss it.” The stranger pointed as he spoke, singling out the building in question as he handed back the paper. Jaskier took it with a squeaked out ‘Thank you’, completely deflating in equal parts confusion, gratitude, and little bit of attraction to this very headstrong person.

The stranger simply grinned and nodded to him. “Welcome to Daevon. You’ll love the food.” And with that odd non-sequitur, he strode away, leaving a mildly dazed Jaskier behind.

As he lifted the paper again to double check the address, he noticed the man had also managed to tuck the small menu of a local restaurant as he’d handed it over. The Wolf Den: Kaedweni Cuisine with a Redanian Twist . Huh. What were the odds of that? He missed the food around Novigrad… maybe this was something he should try out. He tucked the menu safely away in his duffel pocket and made his way into his new home.

Lambert carefully shifted the skillet he was using onto the burner and wiped his hands off as his brother strode into the kitchen with a grin on his face that meant he was up to something. He eyed him warily as Geralt dumped his latest grocery haul onto an empty prep table.

“What’re you smiling at?”

“It’s a lovely day.”

“Bullshit. My sweat is sweating. You look up to something…”

Geralt shrugged and began sorting through his haul. “Saw a cute guy today. University chap. Totally lost looking like a sad puppy. Slipped him a menu.”

Lambert let out a loud bark of laughter. “Ohhoh! You’re hopin he comes sniffin around here and you get to ooze your charm at him.”

Another shrug from his brother. “Maybe it’s just nice having more customers..”

“Mhmm. Customers. Right. Maybe I’ll sneak out to him first.” He turned to wiggle his eyebrows at Geralt and make a mildly crude gesture with his left hand. His brother just rolled his eyes and proceeded to ignore him. With a shrug of his own, Lambert went back to work.

He’d been adopted by this family shortly before he turned 13 and they had literally saved his life. He wasn’t sure of where he would be if he hadn’t been taken in by his Foster father. Vesemir had already had Eskel and Geralt, both six and five years older than him respectively, and this restaurant near the University district. He’d been taught to cook, had an excellent head for the numbers side of the business, and had been able to incorporate some of his favorite dishes from his early childhood into the menu. Any other memories of his time in Redania he swiftly shoved down as far as he could. Was it healthy? Maybe not. But the less he thought of it, the less it hurt. And eating away his feelings was honestly his favorite thing.

A phone ringing about fifteen minutes later kicked him right out of his spiralling thoughts as he watched Eskel reach out and snag the receiver.

“Wolf Den, what can I get ya?”

Eskel mumbled, explained, and scratched out a delivery order before pushing it towards Lambert.

He picked it up and looked it over. Jaskier P. Weird name. With a shrug he tacked the order up next to his current and threw a thumbs up at Eskel. Lunch rush time.

Jaskier sat cross legged on his couch, gesturing at his friend Essi with a fork and talking around a mouth full of food. Three take out boxes sat open on his coffee table, all from The Wolf Den.

“I’m tellin’ you, Ess. Not only is this the best food within delivery distance of this place, but they’re staffed entirely by greek gods pretending to be men. One of them is clearly a mountain god, built like an entire apartment building with what must be the softest head of brown hair I have ever seen. One clearly lords over the snowy plains, white hair but he can’t be that much older than me and also looks like he could break me in two and I’d thank him.” Essie snorted and he waved the fork menacingly. “You mock, but I’m serious. And I also met what I think must be the owner, because he’s clearly an older gentleman, but yet again! Built like a tank and aging gracefully. I have yet to meet their other cook, but I will if it’s the last thing that I do! I want to marry this place.”

“That’s illegal in all territories, Jask. We aren’t that progressive yet.” The tremor in her voice as she tried not to laugh gave her away.

“Again with the mocking!”

“Well, I could hardly call myself your best friend if I didn’t put you in your place on occasion. Now am I going to help you unpack or are you going to blow all your time and grad money on more food?”

Jaskier huffed and shoved one more bite into his mouth before getting up and stomping off into his bedroom. Essi followed shortly trying to suppress her giggles. The kitchen was still a disaster of boxes, hence the take out, and the bedroom as well. All he had managed to get properly set out was his living room and working spaces, clearly the most important.

Three squat boxes sat at the end of the bed and the closet doors were propped open. Essi sat herself down on the corner of the bed and cracked open the box closest to her. She pulled out an impressive length of soft rope and raised an eyebrow at Jaskier.

He darted over and snatched the box away from her with a glare. “It says Private on the box, Ess! Open the other one!” He grumbled as he stomped away to shove the box wholesale into the closet to be promptly forgotten about. Essi just grinned at him in a way that made him sure she had done that on purpose.

“You’re a menace.”

With a raucous laugh, she settled back into the other box.

Two hours, and a bottle of wine, later and all that was left was a few items tucked away in the bottom of the last box. There were clothes hanging in his closet, proper bedsheets on his bed, and several photo frames on his walls. Essi pulled a very battered, barely holding together with duct tape, shoebox out and squinted at it.

“What in the name of 90s nostalgia is this monstrosity?”

Jaskier turned to see what she had and his face went through several rapid emotions before settling on the best poker face he could muster. He stepped forward and took the box gingerly from her, trying his best to ensure his voice came out steady.

“An old friend gave it to me for safe-keeping.” The words came out steady and he gave himself a mental high-five as he walked into the closet and set it carefully on a high shelf. As gently as he could, he shifted it back until it hit the wall and was safely tucked out of sight. Despite the ease with which he said it, Essi caught the emotion there. She stood up and crossed over to wrap her arms around his middle. He tried not to get choked up as he patted her arm in quiet thanks.

“It’s Lambert’s, isn’t it?”

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Jask, you were drunk off your gourd, sobbing into my lap… how could I forget?” She punctuated her last sentence with a soft headbutt between his shoulder blades. “You haven’t spoken of him since, but you were close.”

“Closest I have ever been to anyone besides you and my parents.” He reached back and scratched at her head until she let go and he was free to wander back over and flop on the bed. She followed and sat down beside him.

“I didn’t mean to drag down the mood.” Essi hummed while flipping his wisps of hair out of his face. “How about we go over to this little food joint you love so much for lunch tomorrow, in person, so you can shamelessly flirt in a more open fashion than by simply filling your bin with endless takeout boxes.“

That got a smile and a wink out of him. “You won’t regret this. The workers are nearly as delicious as the food.”

True to her word, Essi followed along behind Jaskier as they walked into the rather unassuming building that housed the “World Famous”, Jaskier’s words, Wolf Den. It was warm and cozy inside and much to her surprise and happiness was indeed entirely staffed with the most lovely specimens of the male variety.

A tall, handsome man with curling blonde hair and an interesting scar through his eyebrow was perched near the front and greeted them. He was scribbling away in a binder and motioned out towards the tables. “It’s open seating, so find a comfy spot and we will be by shortly for your drink orders.”

They found a corner table and settled in. There were a few other people scattered around, but it really seemed like a mellow afternoon. Essi settled in with her menu while Jaskier propped his chin in his hand and took in the surroundings. The greeter was talking briefly to a very tall and pale-haired woman with tattoos, piercings and a hip apron singling her out as likely their waitress. Sure enough, she sauntered over and smiled down at them. “Hey, welcome to the Wolf Den. What can I get you to start or drink?”

Jaskier grinned and rattled off his order and piped up on Essi’s behalf as well while she made googly eyes at the waitress and forgot how to use the common tongue. With a knowing smile, and a wink to Essi, the waitress sashayed away towards the kitchen.

“We’re coming here every day.”

Jaskier burst out laughing and put a hand to his belly as he chortled. Essi just glared at him, which only made the laughing worse, and by the time the waitress was back with their drinks he had dissolved into a teary-eyed hiccuping mess.

“You okay there, pal?” She asked sincerely and held out a handful of napkins to him. He took them gratefully and nodded.

“Yes.. yes.. I’m fine. Ahem. Just fine, thank you.” He managed to get out while smacking his chest to clear the last of his giggles and hiccups. With a final throat clear, he picked up the menu and tried his best to successfully order their lunch.

“What in the devil’s name was that noise?” Lambert tried to peer around Ciri as she loitered in front of the kitchen door holding an order ticket.

“Guy at table eight has a funny friend apparently. She nearly killed him with some kind of joke. I think it had to do with my ass.” She grinned as she said this, cocking her weight onto one hip and shaking the ticket back in her uncle’s face.

Lambert grabbed the ticket and bared his teeth, trying again to get around her. “If someone is harassing you, that ain’t funny! Let me at ‘em. I’ll show ‘em manners. Fuck their food. “

Ciri grabbed him by the shoulders and stood her ground. “Hey! Stop it! I was having a bit of a laugh myself. They were perfectly fine, I just thought the girl was gonna swallow her own tongue when I took their drink order. No harassment. Besides, she was kinda cute.” She ended with a pat to Lambert’s cheek and a smug smile. “Now make them lunch, or I’ll do it for you and you know how that will end.”

Lambert winced as he went back over to his stove. “With the freakin’ police department shuttin’ us down for health code violations and poisoning the customers, that’s how… Fine. Fine! But you just wait until you aren’t watchin’ me. I’ll show them not to ogle my niece.”

“Of course you will, you big softie.” She winked and swanned back out the door to the front of the house.

With a series of curses and grumbles, he sets to work. He was proud of his food. Maybe he’ll just serve it himself. See how that goes. Have a little word with the fairly odd couple out there. Yeah. He could do that just fine.

One moment, Jaskier is engaged in a spirited debate over the authenticity of a recent submission to the department by one Valdo Marx, the next he is all but forgetting to breathe as the last of the great Wolf Den Men saunters his way out of the kitchen and directly towards their table with their order. He’s tall, but whereas Geralt is Ethereal and Eskel is an entire Mountain, this man is more like the physical embodiment of a warm hug. He has dark black hair slicked back from his head, showing off what must be an early onset widows peak, and looks both muscular and comfy from every angle. His eyes are a warm amber, but a mildly menacing look across his face is pulling at a long scar across the left side of his face giving him just that hint of danger Jaskier is always such a sucker for.

He realizes he hasn’t closed his mouth yet. Something about this man is sucking away his entire ability to breathe correctly.

The man stops in front of their table and carefully sets out their plates. “Here ya go. I assume you’re in from the university, a nice couple like you. I hope my niece saw to you when you got here. She’s 19, the sweetheart, and the pride of this place. Family run. I’m sure you understand.” He gestured back towards the front door, where the waitress from earlier was talking with another pair of customers. There was something in his voice that was both fond, and mildly intimidating. Like he was aware of Essi’s eyes lingering earlier. There was something else in the accent that kicked Jaskier’s heart rate up and made him stare even harder.

He made a mildly choked noise as he finally closed his mouth and attempted speech again. It wasn’t very well done.

The man narrowed his eyes at him and the intensity of that gaze, more hazel now that he stares longer, once again stops all the words he might have been trying to say.

Geralt picked that fun and awkward moment to stroll into the building, look over, and promptly yell “Hey, Jaskier!”

The tense atmosphere screeched to a halt.

“What the hell, Geralt? This is Take Out Boy?”

Jaskier spluttered. “T-Take out boy?? What?”

Geralt just grinned and nodded. “You call at least once a week. We draw straws on who gets to deliver to you. You’re just so cute when you open the door and get flustered. Lamby here is salty he hadn’t met you yet. But he’s too good a cook to stick on delivery duty. I’m glad you came in for once.”

Jaskier tried to keep up with the font of words coming out of Geralt, but his brain had latched on to “Lamby” and refused to let it go. He spluttered some more, hoping a word or two had come out in there that might get one of these fine gentlemen to help explain what was going on.

“Aw come on, now. Don’t call me that in front of our best regular.”

“Why are you out here anyways, Lambert, I thought Ciri was working today.”

Jaskier’s brain fizzled out entirely. “Lamby… Lambert?” He muttered, mostly to himself, but also to the room at large.

“Well, yeah, she is. But she mentioned something about this table makin’ eyes at her and so I came over here to deliver their food and look menacing, I couldn’t help it. You know how I get.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at that and looked more closely at the tables occupants. Jaskier looked like he was having three existential crises at the same time and his female friend was as red as red could be. “Ah. My apologies. Didn’t mean to be making a scene out here. Lamb, let’s talk in the back, okay?” His voice held it’s own hint of steel that didn’t bode well for someone.

But as Lambert nodded and turned to move, Jaskier finally got his brain functionality back enough to whip out his hand and grab hold of the closes part of Lambert he could… his apron. The other man halted suddenly and frowned down at the hand on his clothes.

“Lambert?”

He looked over at Jaskier and noticed how his eyes looked like the ocean, wide and blown out, and his entire face looked like he was a mix of happy and terrified and borderline about to pass out.

“Yeah?”

“From Redania?

He went still, and dropped all emotions from his face.

“Who wants to know?”

“Julian Pankratz.”

Now it was Lambert’s turn to suck in a breath and then promptly forget how to breathe again. He opened his mouth and all that came out was a bit of a choked off noise before he was ripping away from Jaskier’s hold and sprinting back into the kitchen. Jaskier was left with his hand still out and the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes.

Geralt looked back and forth between Jaskier and the still swinging kitchen door a couple of times before landing back on the other man and putting his hands on his hips. “What the hell was that?”

Jaskier tried to clear his throat and speak, but all that came out was a wounded groan. Essi reached over and covered his hands with her own.

“Jaskier is from Redania as well. Mentions on brief occasions his oldest and best friend from his childhood. His first crush. A man he still carries around a beat up old box of mementos for. A man named Lambert.” She spoke softly, not taking her eyes off her friend as she did.

Geralt sat down heavily in an empty chair. “So you… you knew him. Before?”

Jaskier nodded.

“Lambert won’t tell us what happened before he was adopted. The only things we know were that he was from Redania, he loved his mother’s cooking, and that he wanted to incorporate it into our menu. Other than that. He’s silent on anything else. I imagine that’s why he ran…”

Jaskier looked wounded. He had always wanted to know what had happened to his friend that night. But more than that, he just wanted to have his friend back at all. And to see him here, in a random restaurant in Kaedwen… well he was still trying to wrap his mind around it all.

Geralt nodded and stood up again. “I’ll go check on him. Can you… Can you stay? His shift ends in an hour anyways.”

With one more solemn nod from Jaskier, the other man stood and left. Essi ruffled his hair in affection before tucking into her own food. He just stared at his in a mix of shock and awe.

It was barely 40 minutes later, and only about half of his food eaten, that Lambert re-emerged from the kitchen and headed straight for their table. He stopped in front of it and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Jaskier watched him and tried to give him a tentative smile.

“Can we talk? Somewhere else?” He blurted.

Jaskier looked surprised but nodded and looked over towards Essi. She just waved her hand in dismissal.

“I can make my own way home. Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that she stood, nodded at Lambert and left the building. Jaskier stood up and pointed towards the door.

“My flat is a block over. We can talk there. I… there’s something I want to give you. And it’s private. I don’t have a roommate.”

Normally that would be grounds for a solidly flirtatious remark, but Lambert was still struggling with his own brain at the moment and simply nodded and followed after his old friend as they left and made the short walk.

Once the door to the flat was shut behind him, Lambert seemed to deflate a bit, the tension loosening some. “I wasn’t expecting to ever see you again.”

“Neither was I…” Jaskier agreed and walked towards his bedroom. Lambert followed and took a cautious seat on the edge of the bed. Looking around he saw photos of Jaskier with friends, with his parents, and with different instruments. Little snapshots of his life growing into what Lambert had to admit was a gorgeous and talented man.

The handsome man in question was rifling around in his closet, trying to pull something off a high self all while shaking his hair out of his eyes and mumbling to himself. He was about to ask if he needed help when the other made a little noise of triumph and bounded out and onto the bed with a very old box in hand. A box that was more duct tape than cardboard at this point.

“I never did more than patch it up when it threatened to fall apart. I never took out any of the contents, I didn't look or peek, and everything should still be in there just as you left it.” His voice had an excitedly breathless quality to it as he held out the box to him.

Lambert took it with shaking hands, little fragments of memory niggling at his mind as he lifted the lid with shaking hands. Inside, the bulk of his most cherished trading cards, his own copy of mario kart, and a letter and ring from his mother, cared for so diligently by another and protected like he had been unable to. He couldn’t form words. The emotions welled back up that he’d managed to push down so very hard since that awful night. The night she was killed. The night his whole world ended and then rearranged itself.

But here he was. Sitting on the edge of a bed that belonged to the first person he truly trusted besides his mother. He looked up to meet Jaskier’s eyes and was surprised to find his own vision blurring with unshed tears.

Jaskier made a hurt sort of tsking noise and launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Lambert and hugging him. He let himself cry then, for the first time in over a decade, and fall apart feeling bafflingly safe in the arms of someone he hadn’t seen in even longer than that.

Jaskier shifted them to let Lambert lay down on the bed after his sniffled had died down, and went to go get them water and snacks. He returned to see Lamb propped up against his headboard, the box in his lap and the lid firmly on it. He went and sat beside him, holding out a glass of water to him.

“I can’t believe you kept this.”

“Well my very best friend in the whole world entrusted it to me. I wasn’t about to break that promise. Especially not after…” Jaskier’s smile faded as he trailed off. Lambert took the water before he dropped it and sipped while he thought about what to say. What could he say? If he was honest, Jaskier had been the first inkling he had that he wasn’t going to be living in a little brick house with a picket fence and a wife. Those first early childhood crushes lingered in the memory. At this point he was better off sipping his water and waiting for the other to find his footing for him.

“I wrote you letters. For a time. I didn’t put them in that box, and I didn’t keep them for long, but I… I did it anyways. All the way until college.”

“I worked very hard not to think of my life before… I never did anything like that, Julek. I’m not worth you having kept this for me. I worked so hard to forget my time before.”

Jaskier took a risk and reached out, taking Lambert by the hand and squeezing it. “You were my best friend. In my more morose hours, I may cry at length about the tragedy that was never knowing what happened to you. I had been going to go over that night and tell you I had a crush on you, but you were gone. But you’re here and whole, and I have a chance to get to know my best friend all over again.”

Lambert squeezed back then snapped his head up. “What? You had a what?”

“Oh, ah… Welllll. Of course that’s what you would latch on to. Turns out little Julian was not very into girls. My very first crush was on my very male best friend.” He winked as he said this, trying to bury his nerves behind bravado. He hoped it was working.

Lambert stared at him and then started giggling, giggling!, like a child. “No fuckin’ way.”

Jaskier puffed himself up and glared in a very ineffective manner. “Yes, fuckin’ way.”

“I had a crush on you , nimrod. I just… didn’t want to say anything. You knew my… well my situation.”

Jaskier hummed and scooted up closer. “I did. Though it seems like your situation has changed mightily. I’d… well, I would like to get to know you again. We’ve both changed. Be nice to become friends again in this new life.” He smiled as he talked, and Lambert just shifted his hands to lace their fingers together and smile back.” Hell, keep holding my hand and looking at me that way and I’ll lose control over my mouth entirely and go so far as to ask you on an actual date.”

Lambert’s smile went lopsided as he tried to avoid breaking out into laughter again. He shifted closer. “Yeah, well your mouth is welcome to run off and do that. I’m off on Thursdays. Which is, oh! Would you look at that… is tomorrow.”

Jaskier laughed and leaned in before stopping himself. “Still sassy. Can I hug you again?”

Lambert took his free hand and set it on Jaskier’s neck to pull him in. “You can have more than a hug, Buttercup.”

Jaskier barely had time to huff a laugh at that before Lambert’s lips were on his and his whole world was finally righting itself. They sat there, clinging to each other, working hard to be as close to the other as possible. When Jaskier finally pulled away to suck in a deep breath, Lambert carded his fingers through his hair.

“So, how about that date, then?”

The laughter sparked by this quickly dissolved into a series of very light moans as Lambert kissed him again and rolled them both over.

They had 13 years to make up for, but more important than the past for them, was the promise the future held.

~End~

#jaskier #lambert #witcher rarepair fanfiction #my writing #jaskier/lambert #Lambskier #Bombard #childhood friends to lovers

34 notes · View notes

legionofpotatoes · 3 years

Text

we decided to watch all story cutscenes from the new resident evil village videogame on a whim, since it’s not really our cup of tea gameplay-wise but seems to be this massive zeitgeist moment that made us morbidly curious. And I know how much everyone cares about my thoughts on things I know very little about, so. let’s get into it huh gamers. and yeah spoilers?

for context, I’ve only played resident evil 4 and a small portion of 5. I also read the wikipedia entry for 7’s plot recently. all this to say I was only vaguely aware of how tonally wacky the series was going in

I also completely gave up following the plot of the mutagens’ soap opera, so that paid off in spades here as you might imagine

anyway so that baby in the intro. that baby’s head is just massive. humongous toddlerdome. when ethan finds the baby’s head in a jar later on. there is no way that head would fit into that jar. bad game design. no not even game design. basic stuff. one hundred years in prison for jar modeler

if I see a single functional hetero marriage in video games I will cry tears of joy. I understand their misery is kind of The Point irt them badly working through the hillbilly romp trauma but like. sheesh. at least set that up as an emotional story goal the plot will help resolve. but nope they start off miserable and it goes nowhere

I know I know the mia thing has a huge wrinkle in it but like. not really in terms of dramatic function?? set up a happy end to the re7 nightmare (miranda can keep up appearances for all she cares) and then take that all away from angry griffin mcelroy for manpain. it will still absolutely work to set up the dramatic forward momentum. why throw in this cliche Hollywood Tension in their marriage if you’re not going to address it oh maybe because it’s normalized as automatically interesting because nuclear families are a self-propagating pit of a very narrow chance at emotional happiness relying on social stigma to preserve their empty function oops my baggage slipped in yikes abort mission

I called him griffin mcelroy because I saw his face on twitter and. yeah. I will continue to do this occasionally. my house my rules

... fuck the reason I’m hung up on this is specifically because the rest of the game is so tonally dexterous (which is a shining point to me! more on that later!), and yet they felt weirdly compelled to create the aesthetic trapping of a family-at-odds trope without following it through too well. a sign of both the good and the bad stuff to come

but listen the real reason why I wanted to talk about any of this is to nitpick the fascinating backwards-engineered nucleus of the entire thing; in that this game essentially creates a melting pot of just SO many disparate horror tropes and then makes a no-holds-barred unhinged effort at weaving thick lore to piece them all together. it is truly a sight to behold. like straight up you got your backwoods fright night situation, your gothic castle vampires, your rural-industrial werewolves, and don’t forget your bloated swamp monsters over there, with then a hard left turn into robotic body horror, and the entire ass subgenre of Creepy Doll writ large, and the bloodborne tentacle monsters, and a hellboy angel bossfight, which rides on the coattails of a mech-on-mech pacific rim bonanza, and just jesus henry christ slow down

almost all of these are textural hijack jobs that don’t really get into the metaphor plain of any of those settings but the game sort-of makes an argument that the texture IS the point and revels in it. It is kind of admirable almost. The same reason why the intro felt boxed in and unmotivated is also why the rest of the game just blasts off of its hinges to the point of complete and self-indulgent tonal abandon. I kinda loved that about it. lady dimitrescu made sure to hold her hat down as she bent forward in mahogany doorways and then suddenly she’s a giant gore dragon and you settle in your temp role as dark souls man with Gun to take her ass down. Excellent??

this rhino rampage impulse to gobble up every horror aesthetic known to man comes to head when the game wrestles with its FPS trappings in what is the most hilarious solution in creating visceral player damage moments. Since most cinematics and the entire game is in first person, that leaves precious little real estate for the devs to work with if they really want to sell griffin’s physical crucible. To wit. This dude’s forearms. Specifically just the forearms. They are MASSACRED throughout the story. The poor man lives out the silent hill dimension of a hand model. by the end cutscene he looks like a neatly dressed desk clerk who had decided to stick both his grabbers into garbage disposal grinders just a few hours prior. like in addition to everything else it manages to rope in that tinge of slapstick violence into its general grievous genre collection except this time it IS for a lack of trying! truly incredible

but wait his miracle clawbacks from everything his poor paws go through are retroactively explained away, yes, but far too vaguely and far too late to console me as I sat and watched everyone’s favorite baby brother reattach an entirely severed hand to his wrist stump by just. placing it on there. and giving it a lil twist ‘n pop terminator-style. and then willing his fingers back into motion right in front of my bulging eyes. this game just does not care. it does not give a shit. and boy howdy will it work to make that into one of its strongest suits

cause generally speaking resident evil was THE premiere vanilla zombie content destinaysh for like a decade, right? and as the rest of the world and mainstream media started encroaching and bloodying its blue ocean it went and just exploded in every single conceivable horror trope direction like a smilodon on catnip. truly, genuinely fascinating franchise moves

yeah the big vampire milf is hot. other news; grass... green. although I do love the implication that her closet is just identical white dresses on a rack. cartoon network-level queen shit

apropos of nothing I’ve said there’s also this hobo dante-devimaycry-magneto man, and I can’t believe this sentence makes sense. anyway he made that “boulder-punching asshole” joke referring to chris redfield and it was probably the only easter egg that really landed for me and boy did it land hard. I have not seen him punch the boulder in re5, mind. I had only heard about how funny it is from friends. and here this dude was, probably in the same exact mindset as me, trying to grapple with that insane mental image. with you on that ian mckellen, loud and clear

I advocate vehemently against the shallow pursuit of hyper photorealism in art direction but I gotta admit it works really in favor of immersive horror like this. the european village shacks especially gave me super unchill flashbacks to my rural countryside retreat in western georgia. I could smell the linoleum dude. not cool

faces are weird in this game. can’t place it. nice textures, good animation, but the modeling template is... uuh strange? and the hair. it has that clustered-flat-clumpy look that harkens to something very specific and unpleasant but I just don’t know what. sue me

griffin’s mental aptitude to take all this shit in stride and end every seemingly traumatizing bossfight involving some fucking eldritch being yet unseen through mortal eyes by essentially throwing out an MCU quip is just. What the fuck dude? I mean that was funny how you casually yelled the f-word at a god damn werewolf that you considered a fairy tale an hour ago but are you like, all right?? it was swinging a sledgehammer the size of a bus at you, ethan

oh oh the vampires are afraid of cold and your last name is winters. I get it haha

Pro Gamer Nitpick: boss fights seemed a bit unnecessarily long?? idk why the youtuber we picked decided the ENTIRE propeller man fight counted towards the vital story scenes he was stitching together, but man mr big daddy lite there really had some get up and go huh??

why are they saying dimitrescu.. like that. is it really how you say that word or is the english language relapsing into its fetish for ending every single word with a consonant at all costs

I’m not saying it’s a dramatic miss of a twist in context of all that’s going on, but the “you died in the last game actually and have been DC’s clayface ever since” revelation is low-key. it’s. it’s just funny to me, I dont know what to say. century-old god-witch fails her evil plan after she mistakenly removes heart from what was definitely NOT just some white guy with eight fingers after all

chris realizing he’s about to become the player character and immediately swapping out his tsundere trenchcoat for the muscletight sex haver sweater

the little bluetooth speaker-sized pipe bomb he taped to his knife was nuclear?? really??? I must have missed something because that is just too good. I buy it though I totally buy it. chris just got them fun-sized nukes in his car trunk for, you guessed it, Situations

anyway this is all for now just wanted to briefly touch on how unexpectedly funny and tonally irreverent this seemingly serious game turned out to be. did not articulate any cathartic story beats whatsoever but my god it had fun connecting those plot points. he just fucking put his severed hand back on his stump and it Just Worked todd howard get in here

#text #another one in my bulleted review series with no rhyme or reason #sorry resident evil fans this could be a painful read pls turn away #i know almost nothing about it but i am gonna be super fake familiar and critical of this one hey ho

23 notes · View notes

kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

On the issue of Mortality

AO3 Link

MK chose to be mortal, to be vulnerable, for the time being, and Monkey King is fine with that.

On the surface, at least. Now he has a successor, one that he likes, and he’s vulnerable????

Yeah, he’s never going to sleep easy again.

(Or, 11 chapters through season 1 about Monkey King, and anxiety his successor gives him. Who knew being a dad teacher would be so hard?)

Chapter 1: Picking a successor

(Or “Look, I’m gonna come clean. Um...I’ve been kinda watching you”)

When Sun Wukong—the Monkey King—decides he needs a successor, it isn’t an easy decision. For one, he refuses to admit why. Because that would mean confronting it all and he doesn’t want to.

He needs a successor because he wants one. Who doesn’t want to retire? It’s not like he’s spent hundreds of thousands of years in technical retirement, waiting for the Demon Bull King to return. No, he’s been...super busy. Yeah. Turning Flower Fruit Mountain into a paradise has totally taken him…forever, and, like, he’s got lots of stuff to do. He watches TV, once humans get electricity figured out. Gets a computer too, once those things start popping up. He gets a lawyer or two, yknow, keeping up with the times.

He’s...super busy. He definitely deserves a retirement.

So all that’s left is find a successor. Easy, right?

Well....

He actually starts looking when he hears whispers that the Demon Bull family is starting to get close to figuring out how to lift his staff. So about a hundred years before Demon Bull King actually escapes.

He finds a few kids he thinks might work, but nothing happens, anyway, so there’s no point in interrupting their boring normal lives for nothing. Besides, he doesn’t really see any of them with the spark of...something that he wants in his successor in any of them

He watches them grow. Child to teen to adult, he watches, and then he leaves before they get too old because he doesn’t want to see the headstones.

He doesn’t understand why they have to be human. Why they have to be mortal. Why they have to be able to die.

Why he has to watch them die.

Years and years pass. He gets lax, when looking for a successor. Lax when it comes to keeping an eye on the Demon Bull family.

He does, on occasion, watch the town where his staff is. It’s a pretty populace place, always buzzing with some sort of activity, which is both fun and boring.

One night, he watches a kid—no older than 13, he thinks, since he’s gotten used to watching humans grow and can gauge it pretty well—sprint down the street in the rain, wearing nothing but a ratty old hoodie, a shirt, shorts, torn up shoes, and a headband so dirty that even he can’t discern the original color.

There are three other figures chasing him, and he ducks into an alley as they sprint past. Monkey King watches as the kid settles down, sitting in the alley, and pulling something out from beneath his hoodie.

A puppy.

“Hey there, little guy,” the kid’s voice is soft, and he scritches the tiny pup behind the ears. “Sorry I couldn’t get your siblings, but they’d already been thrown in the lake—” the look on the kid’s face is nothing short of heartbreaking.

Monkey King has plans for the group of thugs he saw earlier, if that’s what they were doing. Humans.

“But hey, managed to save you, huh? I’ll bring you to a shelter in the morning. Someone will take you home and you’ll get loved to death.” Monkey King rolls his eyes at the saccharine display, but he wonders.

There isn’t a lot of crime in this city, with its advancements. What’s a kid doing outside this late at night?

“I’d take you home with me, but mine’s more of a hovel than a place to live. You can still see it, though! C’mon,” the kid gets up, stumbling a little, and Monkey King notices that he’s favoring one leg, that the elbow of one of the sleeve’s of his hoodie is wet.

He follows.

The kid’s house is literally a shack made of a metal sheet wedged between an alley wall. There’s a ‘bench’ that’s a slab of rock placed on top of more rocks, where a well loved sketchbook sits.

The kid sits on the bench, setting the puppy down beside him as he flips open his sketchbook.

“I’m gonna draw you, so I don’t forget, kay?” He pats the pup on the head, and then, using the smallest, most worn down pencil Monkey King has ever seen, he slowly carves out the puppy’s features, getting the soft tones of fur. He keeps squinting, but Monkey King thinks that’s because all he has is the light of the lamppost for his vision.

This kid...is pretty darn good.

Monkey King watches for way longer than he would like to admit, and then watches as the kid pulls out a very worn blanket-substitute, curling around the puppy beneath it.

He frowns, but isn’t sure what to do about it.

So he leaves, and makes sure those thugs learn a thing or two about treating animals with respect.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

This kid just keeps popping up in Monkey King’s peripherals.

He likes to people watch, and the kid will just appear from nowhere. He’ll be running down the street, hanging out with this girl who looks about 3 economic classes above him. They’ll go to the arcade and play for hours, and she’ll pay for practically everything.

He decides he likes her, if she’s nice enough to do that for the kid. Plus, he feels a familiar energy coming off of her, something he trusts.

They typically end their day at a noodle shop. Pigsy’s? The kid always pays there, with coins of various sizes. The girl, when the kid isn’t looking, will slip the cook some more money. They get steaming hot bowls of ramen, harass the cook, and eventually get half chased out, laughing all the while.

“You know you can stay with me, right?” The girl says, one day, when Monkey King is people watching (read: eavesdropping on their conversation. It’s like his new favorite TV show, at this point). Kid rolls his eyes.

“Mei, c’mon, your relationship with your folks is as strained as mine! I wouldn’t want you to end up like me. Besides, I’m fine!” he insists with the grin Monkey King has grown accustomed to seeing on Kid’s face.

The information Monkey King gains from those two sentences is certainly something, and he ponders on Mei, the girl who spends her days as far away from home as possible.

Mei frowns.

“You still won’t show me where you’re staying. Or explain why your clothes are all torn up!” She pokes him in the chest, and the Kid shrugs.

“Cause you wouldn’t like either of those things! I can take care of myself! Promise.” He rocks back and forth on his feet, all smiles.

Mei fixes him with a glare, before she sighs, relenting. “Fine. But, if you won’t take my hospitality, you get my undying loyalty and free stuff!” She whips out a brand new red winter coat.

Kid takes it slowly.

“It’s getting colder out!” She explains. “And red just isn’t my color, you know?”

Kid slowly pulls the jacket against his chest, like he doesn’t know what to do with it, and then he smiles. This one is smaller. Less performative. Monkey King didn’t realize that he’d been watching the kid to be able to tell the difference, but it’s not too hard to see. Kid uses big smiles like a cloak, to hide what’s underneath. The smaller ones-those are like the slivers of sunlight shooting out from an eclipse. Wukong finds he prefers the smaller ones.

Kid wraps his arm around Mei’s shoulders.

“Thanks, Mei.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The days get colder, and Kid is still in that shack. Monkey King finds out that Kid doesn’t steal for money. Instead, he does little odd jobs for short change, and then looks for coins people have dropped. Apparently, the city’s wealth has made people more loose with their change.

Mei drags him to warm places as often as she can, but apparently this time of year she has a lot of responsibilities, or “social events,” as she calls them, so she can’t be around as much.

Kid doesn’t seem to mind, shivering through the nights, curling himself as tight as possible with that jacket and shitty blanket, and Monkey King doesn’t know why he even cares, but...

He’s not cruel. It isn’t pleasant to watch a kid suffer.

And then, Kid gets sick. Like, delirious, fever sick, and he’s not getting better.

And Monkey King has told himself, a million times, that he would let Kid figure his own life out, but he ends up picking Kid up anyway, depositing him at the ever familiar noodle shop.

The cook drags the boy inside, and Monkey King doesn’t see Kid on the streets after that.

Good.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kid starts working at the noodle shop, apparently, and he lives above the shop. Slowly, he accrues random objects. Sketchbooks, games, figurines, Monkey King comics? He watches the show near religiously, and Monkey King is both flattered and weirded out.

A super fan, huh? Okay then.

And when he isn’t working, or watching “Monkey King: The Animated Series,” or reading Monkey King comics, he’s begging the resident bookworm, Tang, for stories, which he then sketches out.

Monkey King actually goes through the sketchbook once, when Kid’s asleep. Yup, Kid’s really, really good at this. Monkey King actually thinks about stealing a drawing, but that would be both very obvious and also stupid.

So he lets it go. He ought to look for his successor, anyway. He hears the Demon Bull family is getting close.

He leaves Kid to his life and moves on to his own.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He can’t find a successor. Somehow. It’s like every person in this city (and it would have to be in this city, because you need to be close to the staff in some regard if you want to have a connection with it. Being born near it, living near it-makes it easy for the energy, the chi, to find you) doesn’t want anything to do with hero business. The kids he considers are too small, the adults too...boring.

And he’s getting pretty frustrated here, because he thinks he might just have to fight the Demon Bull King all over again, which, ugh.

And then, it clicks.

He’s watching Kid drive around town, delivering orders, and somehow the kid steers towards the construction site. Toward the staff.

Of course.

God, it was literally staring him in the face. He feels kind of dumb, now that it hits him, but whatever. Not like anyone’s around to tease him about it.

He watches Kid waltz towards danger, music in his headphones too loud to notice the literal demon family, until Kid opens his eyes and sees the whole demon army there, and hoo boy, is this comical.

Monkey King wonders if they’ll succeed this time, in lifting his staff. They certainly seem confident. He’s kind of curious, kind of bored. The whole ‘take our rightful place as rulers of this world’ schtick is super annoying, and Red Son’s voice is grating.

The light show is pretty nice, though, and then.

Then.

Demon Bull King’s a lot smaller than he remembers, but his voice is the same, as is his attitude. Monkey King can feel Kid shaking and takes a quick sweep of the area. Seems his successor is right above Red Son.

He smirks to himself, not that anyone can see considering he’s a bird right now.

This is going to be hilarious.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Kid touches the staff, Monkey King isn’t prepared for the feeling he gets.

It’s like he’s been the single Sun in an endless galaxy, surrounded by darkness, when suddenly another star appears from nowhere, throwing him into orbit with it. The galaxy shifts, the light doubles, the darkness recedes.

Monkey King’s own center, his sun, feels red hot, warm, and tempered by years of life, with a spark of yellow and white in its center. Kid’s is bright, brilliant golden yellow, more white than any color, bursting with energy.

That energy gets put to work pretty quickly, as the Kid fumbles his way out of the demon’s den, and Monkey King soars after him, watching the escape with a smile.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He doesn’t properly meet Kid until he gets shot all the way to Flower Fruit mountain. After Kid escapes Red Son, he panickedly tells his friends what’s going on and tries to get there on his own.

Well, all the way is a bit much. Maybe Monkey King had to catch Kid and fly him there, because Kid was looking half dead and Monkey King was a little worried, but that’s beside the point. He leaves Kid on the shore, and follows him when Kid gets up.

He isn’t expecting the frustration, when he can’t be found, but he supposes that’s his cue.

Getting stepped on is unpleasant. Guess Kid doesn’t like bugs.

God, the look on Kid’s face, when it hits him that Monkey King’s been watching him! If he could frame a memory, that would be it. Hoo, boy, is that going to be replaying in his head for a while. Kid seems more bewildered than anything else, and the idea of being Monkey King’s successor doesn’t sit well with him.

Which, Monkey King doesn’t get that. Who wouldn’t want to be taught by him?

But maybe he overestimates the kid’s spunk, his confidence, because waving off his worries doesn’t spur him on; rather, it seems to deflate him.

Ugh. Why is being a teacher difficult? It’s not like his teacher had a hard time with him, right?

Distantly, he thinks he can hear his master shouting at him. He hops off his cloud, says just the right thing to get Kid pumped up, and watches him race off.

He considers just sitting back and not watching, but then, that wouldn’t be any fun, would it?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He isn’t actually sure what having a successor means, really. How much their powers, their lives, would mirror his own. A part of him was terrified by the prospect—could he even be known as anything special, if he was no longer one of a kind?

But there’s also something quite exciting about this. The idea that your life is being rewritten, the story unfinished and yet also repeating itself. The Demon Bull King is on the loose, with his army and family, trying to take over the world.

And only one person can stop him. The Monkey King.

Kid’s powers are volatile. He can feel them flare up from time to time, wildly flickering out of control. A lack of self confidence, that might be causing it. A part of him is annoyed by that, a part of him is relieved. Far better to have to teach someone to believe in themselves than teach them humility. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t learned that latter lesson all the way yet.

Kid vanishes into the Demon Bull King’s chest, where the staff lies, and for a moment, the new sun vanishes. Monkey King feels the cold rush of space in its absence, and feels panic, even though he’s only known this warmth for a few hours.

But then, it bursts back into existence, as a familiar stone drops from the Demon Bull King’s chest, cracking open, and, well, it’s history being written the same way over and over again, isn’t it?

Kid has a flair for silliness, childish maneuvers. He likes to have fun, and that’s the best part of the powers they share. To be invincible, to have fun while saving the day.

It’s a repeat, until, well, it isn’t.

The blow Kid takes makes Monkey King wince. The body becoming invulnerable takes time. It doesn’t just immediately show up. Every second, Kid’s body is absorbing and meshing with the powers thrust upon it, but that doesn’t mean getting hit a mile by a guy twenty times your size doesn’t still hurt, at this point.

But Monkey King knows this is what has to happen. Because heroes aren’t heroes if they never feel pain, never get hit.

Heroes, he thinks, as Kid tears himself from the wall he’s embedded in, as Kid stands, eyes ablaze, are heroes when they get hit and they get back up.

And Kid sure as hell does.

“I’m the Monkey Kid!” He shouts, like a battle cry, like a challenge, and Monkey King smirks. Monkey Kid, huh? It suits him. And then, Kid slams the staff on the ground, and the world shifts.

A part of him is kind of jealous. How come he never got a mech?! Has that been a thing this entire time? Another part is in awe of this Kid’s creativity, ability, at such a young age.

And seeing DBK get trounced again certainly keeps the jealous part of him quiet.

Kid’s got a nice group of friends. Reminds him of his journey days, him and a rag tag group of idiots going around wreaking havoc and learning moral lessons at the end of it. He’s glad Kid isn’t alone or on the streets anymore. A strong foundation leads to a stronger ability to grow.

Well, he’d better get some sort of training regimen ready. Or, at least, start thinking of some things to do to train this kid. He’s sure at some point Kid is going to bug him for a lesson or two.

Somehow, the thought doesn’t bother him as much as he thinks it should.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid mk #monkie kid monkey king #sun wukong #kitkat1003 #monkie kid mei

50 notes · View notes

fleetwoodmactshirt · 4 years

Text

roadtrip headcanons (requested)

i think they’d all have a different vibe and a different energy. i didn’t really rank them best to worst, i just explored what i think the vibe of a road trip with each of them would be like. i also let loose and slipped in some super self-indulgent personal hcs/one-shot au idea that is a WiP about ezra as an intriguing handsome stranger you encounter on your solo cross-country road trip. as a treat. s/o to @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa for suggesting whiskey’s fav song.

frankie morales is the road trip king. no matter how spontaneous, frankie can whip a road trip plan together smoothly. he’s got a spacious truck, he’s got a cooler, he’s got the coziest blankets, he’s got the travel pillow, he’s got the camping gear, he knows the best scenic routes, he’s got the best classic tunes, he’s got the best snacks. he makes homemade sandwiches and burritos, wraps them tightly in tin foil. he heats up frozen pizzas, cuts them into slices. he stores it all in the cooler for lunches. when the supply runs out, you gorge yourselves on burgers and fries at roadside diners. but every morning he’ll stop in the nearest town to buy some apples, or some fresh fruit/veg of some kind. if they’re ripe he’ll get avocados that he’ll cut in half for you both to scoop out with a spoon to eat plain while you sit together in the bed of his truck in the shade of a lake you’ve stopped at for the afternoon. but he surprises you with your favourite junk food and snacks. he lets you borrow his cap if the sun is in your eyes; he’s got a spare, more threadbare one in the glove box. he’s low key done the research on the best places for stargazing; you lie back nestled together under a blanket, in the bed of his truck, gazing upwards; you listen as he describes the constellations, tracing them out with his finger.

max phillips. business road trips but max’s...condition necessitates driving at night only. liminal spaces. driving through the night, sleeping in business hotel rooms during the day, dust motes floating in the thin streams of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the curtains you’ve pulled shut. you see incredible sunsets and sunrises from the highway. you also see some undeniably weird shit late at night on road trips with max. he watches you eat breakfast food at 2 am in neon lit 24/7 diners. while on the road he passes you lots of candy throughout the night; he stocks up from the hotel vending machines. but no matter how much caffeine and sugar he tries to fuel you with, sometimes you’re lulled to sleep by the peacefulness. you nestle your head against max’s shoulder; it’s not the most comfortable position to drive in but he can’t bring himself to readjust and shift away from you. solitary brightly lit gas stations that are like an oasis of light breaking the pitch darkness. the two of you feel utterly alone sometimes; the world has shrunk down to only you, max, in this car, driving along this empty, dark stretch of road, a blush of purple on the edge of the horizon signalling the dawn.

based on how oberyn canonically took his daughters to explore an abandoned holdfast, i think his road trip energy would be all about the journey and not the destination. road trips with oberyn and ellaria would be meandering and adventurous. sometimes you’re riding shotgun and sometimes you’re sitting in the backseat with ellaria laid out and napping beside you, sun hat dipped down covering her eyes, her long legs stretched across your lap. if the three of you come across a motel you enjoy he’ll feel no urgency to leave; the days blur together and soon you’ve spent a week soaking up sun by the pool and sleeping in late entangled together in a pile of limbs after long passionate nights. day by day you may not even travel very far; he wants to stop and explore. hike amidst rock formations, swim in hot springs, explore the local museums; whatever catches his or your fancy. if he sees a billboard on the side of the road advertising local caves, or a petrified forest, or hears rumour of nearby ghost town that’s all but disappeared off the map, you’ll suddenly find yourselves veering off down small country roads, hours from the highway, seeking out pleasure, adventure, mystery.

marcus has a hilton rewards card so you’re staying at hilton garden inns every night. clean sheets. comfortable beds. complimentary breakfast. it’s very pleasant. middle class fancy. holds out his hand for you to drop some snacks into his palm so he can remain focused on the road while you’re both munching. let’s you curate the spotify playlists.

roadtrips with javier are always last minute decisions to just take off, head to a gorgeous but isolated beach you’d heard about that’s a few days from here. he doesn’t get many opportunities for long stretches of time off, so when he does you don’t hesitate. you might not even wait for a rational time to leave. it’s midnight and you guys just speed off into the darkness. you just threw some essentials into a bag, jumped in his jeep, and booked it. you gotta buy toothpaste and toothbrushes at a gas station, and you borrow javi’s deodorant stick because you forgot yours. greasy fast food containers, half-empty cigarette packs, and snack wrappers litter the dashboard. his aviators perched on his nose, one hand resting on the wheel, the other curled around your thigh, javi on a road trip is relaxed. he’s leaving all his burdens, his worries, everything weighing on his chest, all of it, behind him. literally, the more distance you guys put between yourselves and where you were, the more uplifted his spirits. when your favourite song comes on the radio, and you’re shimmying in your seat, he can’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze flicking between you and the road. he sings along under his breath, bobbing his head almost imperceptibly and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, a slow smile spreading across his face.

whiskey pulls up to your house at 5 am on the dot, the obnoxious custom sound of the horn of his bronco rattling the windows and scaring the birds out of the trees lining the street. country music jams ONLY. you argue over his taste in music; does he enjoy being a walking cliche? he will not accept any song that doesn’t have a twang to it. he’d be an aux cord hog if he knew what an aux cord even was. so much for your favourite spotify road trip playlists. “spot fly? spot what fly, where?” still has mixtapes he made himself, the same ones he’s been playing since forever. forces you listen to all his favourite songs, the ones he knows all the words to, while he obnoxiously sings along and ignores your eye-rolling. but he doesn’t ignore how your feet start tapping absentmindedly to toby keith’s ‘whiskey girl’. the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk that quickly becomes a broad grin as he reaches over to smack your thigh, laughing he’ll make a country girl of you yet. startled out of your daze, you vehemently deny you weren’t enjoying the song, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. he insists he knows the best places to stop, which means you always end up driving far off the highway to some little mom and pop diner that has killer apple pie for lunch. in the evenings you always end up in some honky-tonk bar that’s joined to a motel and yes, there’s line dancing, and yes he manages to twist your arm and convince you to join in.

ezra…..as a man who’s floated from planet to planet, following jobs and leads, for the better part of his life, he’s found himself smooth-talking his way into being a lot of people’s unexpected travel companion out of necessity over the years. road trip ezra is on the run from someone or something; maybe the law, maybe not. all you know is this beautiful, mysterious stranger you met under dubious circumstances somehow, with his roguish grin and drawling accent, his kind eyes and eloquence, convinced you to let him ride along with you. you ran into him in the grungy diner attached to an even grungier motel in some desolate nowhere town. you recognized him; he’s unmistakably the lone figure on the side of the dusty road, his thumb stuck out, that you drove past yesterday. you’d driven past but that blonde streak had been unmissable and you won’t admit it but you’d felt his gaze on you long after you’d left him in the dust. ezra’s endless chatter on the road isn’t unwelcome; he knows seemingly innumerable facts about local folklore, flora, and fauna, and he never seems to be depleted of stories. you’d made the conscious and contrary decision to make this cross-country road trip alone, rebelling against a lot of cautionary advice, but somewhere along the way loneliness had creeped in under your skin and settled there. this handsome stranger may have an edge of danger to him but later when he’s bringing you to heights of ecstasy in a motel room you won’t give a damn.

maxwell lord flies everywhere in a private jet. the worst.

din djarin’s entire life is basically one long never-ending road trip. but in space. i figure earth-bound din on a conventional road trip would basically be how we see him: no nonsense. no frivolities. no music; travels in total silence. gets where he needs to go. stops for soup, as needed. stops for repairs, as needed. stops to work an odd job with some really sketchy people for some gas money, as needed. din’s road trip energy would be like that john mulaney joke. you’d see the mcdonalds sign lit up and shining in the distance and plead for him to stop so he’d pull into the drive-thru, order one black coffee and keep driving. except if you’ve got the baby with you; he gets a chicken nugget happy meal for the kid. he’s a good papa! and of course you’d get whatever you wanted too, he provides and cares for his loved ones after all.

SEND ME ANY QUESTIONS/HC PROMPTS/REQUESTS YOU HAVE

#pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #ezra prospect x reader #frankie morales x reader #agent whiskey x reader #oberyn martell x reader #frankie morales headcanons #javier pena headcanons #ezra headcanons #agent whiskey headcanons #oberyn martell headcanons #all the boys headcanons #headcanon requests #fleetwood writes

163 notes · View notes

backtobackbakubabe · 4 years

Text

I am the Alpha Now Part 3

Bakugo X Reader

Words : 2733

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically

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

Bakugo trailed behind you as you entered the classroom with Mercy hanging out by the door looking nervous. “Are you waiting for permission or what? Get your ass in here.”

Mercy jumped ahead to catch up with you, tail wagging with excitement.

Bakugo just shook his head at how goofy Mercy was for how powerful he was.

He could hear his dumbass classmates practically squealing over you and he figured you might need help. Not that he necessarily wanted to help you, in fact he thought it’d be pretty funny to watch you squirm. But he had a job to do and that job was to help the new kid.

He was surprised when All Might had pulled him aside after class one day. He gave him a long winded lecture about how he needed to learn how to work with others. Seeing as your quirk gave you a pack mentality he and the other teachers thought maybe it would rub off on him. Make him understand team work or whatever.

So here he is stepping in to help you as his fellow classmates swarmed you. “OI! BACK THE HELL UP A SECOND!”

Everyone froze for a moment before resuming their questions. You looked to him with wide eyes, “My Japanese isn’t great to begin with, but they’re talking a mile a minute. I have no idea what anyone is saying. Someone keeps touching my hair and pinching my ass but when I look no one's there. Please help.”

He groaned, “I can help you with the translations but they’re just going to keep bugging you.”

You threw your hands up, “So what am I supposed to do?”

He walked over and thumped you between the eyes like you had done to him earlier, “Do that weird glowy eye thing you do. Tell mercy to crowd control, I don’t know. Just get the point across that they need to respect your personal space...” He looked back to the crowd of people who were now directing their questions to him to translate. He spoke Japanese and even he found it hard to figure out what was being asked. “SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN!”

When he had every ones attention he gestured to you, “This is Y/n. She’s new. She’s from America. She Doesn't speak Japanese that well so be fucking patient. She’s got some weird alpha wolf quirk and we all know what happens when you corner a wild animal so back the fuck up and let her breathe.”

He looked over and your eyes were a bright electric blue and Mercy was standing in front of you in a defensive position. He wasn’t growling but that didn’t mean he didn’t mean business. “Easy Mercy. We’re not looking for a fight or anything but Bakugo is right. They need to know we’re not here to play.”

Bakugo gave you a nod and your eyes slowly went back to normal. He then pointed to Mercy, “This is Mercy, he’s her beta and he..”

Some guy with yellow hair rushed to pet him, “Ohhh who’s a good boy? Is it you? Are you a good boy?”

Mercy’s eyes looked murderous but he knew wasn't supposed to hurt your new friends so he just let the weird boy talk to him as if he were a baby.

You opened your mouth to tell him off but Bakugo was already dragging him by the ear to his desk, “Kaminari you idiot! Mercy isn’t some ‘good boy’ he’s her fucking beta, he is smart, probably smarter than you and he will tear you to pieces if you talk down to him again!” He looked to your other classmates who now looked a little scared, “You all got that?”

A few people nodded some just stared at him. They all knew he had a temper but they had never seen him actually defend someone else before. Hell must have frozen over because Bakugo Katsuki looked like he gave a shit.

Bakugo didn’t even look back to you as he made his way to his desk and took a seat. There was an empty desk in front of him, and you assumed that was meant for you.

You snapped and Mercy fell at your heals as you took your seat. “Can I look around a little bit?”

You rubbed his head, “I don’t know, maybe wait until class is over. I don’t want anyone to freak out.”

He wined and plopped down rather dramatically in the isle next to you.

“What’s his problem? I thought he wanted to come.”

You tuned to face Bakugo who was already getting his notes out, and they looked very well organized. Was he a secret nerd? “He did want to come. He just wants to take a look around. Learn the room. He likes to do this every time we go someplace new. I just don’t want anyone to freak out.” You shrugged and turned back around just as a man… in a sleeping bag… popped up out of nowhere.

“Good morning class. I see you have already met our new student from the United States, y/n. I know you all have a lot of questions but there is plenty of time for that after class. Please be patient with her as she learns our language and routines. In most cases you will see her with Bakugo. Please consider him her translator, tutor, and guide while she is here.” He turned to look at you, but you were already spaced out. This language barrier was going to be a bitch. “Y/n is there anything special you would like to say before we begin our day?”

You heard your name. You knew he was asking a question. But you had no idea what was going on. The teacher softened and spoke again but this time in English, “Forgive me, it seems even as I was giving a speech about you being from America I still forgot to speak English. Was there anything you would like to say?”

You shrugged, “Uh… sure. It’s nice to be here and I can’t wait to meet all of you. Thanks in advance for putting up with my bullshit.”

You looked at a smirking Bakugo who started shouting out a translation. But what you didn’t know was what he translated that to was, “She says she can’t wait to meet you all in training and her dog Mercy needs to sniff out the room. Let him do his job and don’t bother him. You can meet him later too…” He patted Mercy’s head switching back to English, “Hey go do your thing they wont bother you now.”

Mercy jumped up and looked at you with his tongue lolling out the side, “Oh can I? Sparky said I can. Can I please?”

You narrowed your eyes at Bakugo, “As much as I appreciate it, please don’t make a habit of telling my beta what to do. I’m the alpha here, not you.”

Bakugo just leaned back in his chair, “Yeah we’ll just see about that.”

He made your fucking blood boil but you knew you would get your chance to slap the smug look off of his face later in the gym.

You nodded at Mercy who took off and started sniffing everything. He did it for most of class just pacing around the isles. Trying to learn faces and smells.

You spent the rest of the class trying to keep up, but it was just too much for you. You only knew every other fifth word or so. In the end you resorted to writing down words that were said frequently so you could look them up later.

Finally, after what felt like years you were dismissed to get lunch before training.

You stood up and stretched. You heard light snoring and that’s when you noticed Mercy had fallen asleep in front of your desk. “Typical.”

You leaned over to wake him up but before you made contact someone was behind you. One hand on your skirt the other around your waist. You’d panic but that familiar scent invaded your personal space just like it had done earlier. Bakugo pulled you to him while trying to pull your skirt back into place. He leaned in and whispered into your ear, “What did I tell you about bending over. Are you stupid or were you trying to give our classmates a show?” A shiver ran down your spine and your witty response died in your throat. “Next time I see your ass like that I am going to slap it.”

Your eyes began to glow and you could feel your wolf instincts kicking in. You are an alpha and NO ONE challenges you. You were going to tear him a new asshole, but before you could even get a word out he let you go and started walking towards the door, “Hurry up brat I’m hungry.”

You were fuming now. How could he say something like that and then act so nonchalant as if nothing ever happened. You used your foot to nudge Mercy awake. “Come on man. You just had to be asleep when Bakugo threatened to slap my ass huh?”

Mercy stood and shook himself to wake himself up, “Sparky spanked you?”

You caught up and were now walking behind Bakugo and some red headed guy who seemed to be friends with him. Odd you didn’t think he was the friendly type. “NO! He didn’t spank me, but he threatened to if he saw my ass again!”

“Well why did he see your ass? Did you moon him or something?”

You rolled your eyes, “No! I bent over to try and wake you up and I guess my skirt rode up a little.”

“Well he did tell you earlier not to bend over… You used to spank me when I did things you told me not to…”

“Who’s side are you on?!”

“Oh wow you’re right. She does talk to her dog. That’s so cool!”

You saw Bakugo had stopped with his red headed friend who was currently beaming a mega watt smile at you, “Hey sorry! I don’t mean to be rude, My name is Kirishima! My English isn’t the best but I’m going to work on it.”

You returned his smile, “Nice to meet you Kirishima. I’m y/n and this is Mercy.”

“So cool! So were you two having a fight or something? You sounded pretty mad earlier.”

You narrowed your eyes at Bakugo, “Not at all, just discussing proper punishments for pack members who don’t fall in line.”

Kirishima rubbed his neck, “Oh wow sounds intense.”

You returned your gaze to Kirishima and gave him a sweet smile, “Only for those who don’t behave.”

Kirishima chuckled, “Oh.. sounds kinky!”

That earned him a slap to the back of the head. “Tch. She doesn’t want to hear your perverted bullshit alright now get us a table!”

Kirishima rubbed the sport Bakugo had slapped as he scurried off to the cafeteria.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “She really doesn’t want to hear your perverted bullshit either.”

Completely ignoring you he leaned down and started rubbing Mercy’s ears. “It sounds like your alpha needs an attitude adjustment. Is she always this high strung?”

“Oh he’s funny. Tell him I said he’s funny. But also tell him to be nice or I will eat his homework… no one will ever believe him”

You snorted, “I’m not telling him that.”

Bakugo cocked his head at you, “Tell me what?” He stood up and was now facing you with his arms crossed. You hadn’t noticed how tall he was. He probably had half a foot on you.

You shouldered past him to enter the cafeteria, “It doesn’t matter what he said. I’d watch your back though, someone might mistake you for a chew toy.”

You saw Kirishima had found a table and headed in his direction but before you could take a seat Bakugo came up behind you with his jacket in his hands. “Please for the love of god tie this around your waist before you sit down. I’m getting you a new fucking skirt today if it kills me.” You blushed as you yanked the jacket roughly from his grasp. “Tch be a pouty bitch all you want just take it. I’m going to go get us some food.”

You quickly tied the jacket around your waist and felt monumentally better as you took your seat. The others were busy talking amongst themselves. Everyone once in a while they would make an attempt to include you in the conversation but they were busy stuffing their faces for the most part.

A guy with red and white hair came and took a seat across from you, “Hello, my name is Todoroki. I have pretty high marks in English so if you ever need help please feel free to ask.”

He seemed genuinely nice, and kind of cute if you were being honest. You smiled and reached your hand out to introduce yourself, but you had to yank it back to keep it from being crushed by a tray of food. “She doesn’t need your fucking help, that’s my job icy hot.”

You glared at him, “SHE can speak for herself thank you.”

He groaned as he yanked two notebooks and a tape recorder out of his backpack and slammed them on the table. You picked up the one you had seen him writing in earlier and was actually impressed in what you found. “All your notes today… they’re in English.”

He rolled his eyes, “How perceptive of you.”

You bumped his shoulder with yours, “You did this for me?”

He pulled a pair of headphones and some pencils out, “Don’t look too much into it. It’s literally my job.” He plugged the headphones into the recorder and handed you a pencil. “Now I recorded the lecture so we can listen back. I can retake my notes in Japanese, and you can follow along with the notes in English and try and learn something.”

You took one of the earbuds and stuffed it in your ear as he hit play. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until your stomach growled and as if he read your mind Bakugo pushed a plate full of chicken and rice towards you. “Eat up. We have training after this, and I’d hate to beat you because you didn’t have enough food on your stomach.”

You put down your pencil and picked up your fork, “So do you want me to take notes or eat? Because I can’t exactly do both at the same time.”

Bakugo was finishing his bowl of ramen before pushing it away, “I mean I already took the damn notes for you. Just eat quick and catch up.”

“But what about me! I’m hungry too! Did he not get me anything?”

“Shit.. I guess I didn’t feed you this morning huh?”

Without glancing up from his notes Bakugo put his tray on the floor so Mercy could have what was left of his chicken and rice. His mood swings were going to drive you crazy.

When it was finally time to go to training you were practically buzzing with excitement. Mercy was too, “I get to help this time remember! He said I could train later! Do I get to fight sparky?”

You stopped mid-stretch to poke Bakugo who was warming up next to you, “Hey, Mercy wants to know if he gets to fight you yet?”

His nose scrunched up as he looked over to Mercy, “I know you’re not like an average dog, but I still feel bad trying to blow you up..”

You laughed, “Well at least we know you’re not hiding any signs of being a serial killer.”

“Tch, I just don’t want to hurt him! You, I have no problem with. You’re a pain in my ass. But Mercy’s cool!”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh shut up. You won’t hurt him. I’d be surprised if you could even hit him. He may look lazy but he’s really fast and his fur is super thick. The longer we are bonded the stronger he gets.” Your eyes started to glow as you started your shift, “What are you scared of a little two on one?”

His palms started to crackle, “Bring it brat. Time for round two.”

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

Tags : @tspice283

189 notes · View notes

illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Just Go With It

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: Ben's confession left you stunned but how will it effect your overseas trip to promote the movie? Especially when you have to share hotel rooms with him. And will you let him talk you into meeting the one other person who knows the whole truth of your situation?

Warnings: Same old same old, bit of angst, sexual references but nothing explicit (yet), mentions of smoking

Words: 8908

A/N: This chapter was originally going to have another bit at the end but, once again, I prove how bad I am at estimating word count lmao. Anyway, that just means an extra chapter.

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @tenement-funstah @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless

It felt like hours before you could move though the clock on your phone insisted it was only minutes. Ben was right, you couldn’t leave. But you also weren’t sure you should stay. So you dithered on the spot. The notion of sneaking out the back, though people’s yards until you were clear of the paparazzi’s notice popped into your head, but it wasn’t really an option. For one thing your dress was not made for sneaking, not that you could have pulled it off even in a full cat-burglar costume. You took a step towards the doorway but there was nowhere for you to go so you moved back to the couch and sat, perched on the edge. Right where Ben had been moments before. The seat was still warm. You stood up again. Doing nothing was worse than trying to decide what to do, so you began pacing. One end of the room to the other, trying to clear your mind enough to come up with a plan but not enough to think about what Ben had said. You lost yourself in the rhythm of your movement, the soft pad of your bare feet on the wooden floor, the slide as you turned on the ball of your foot and then the steps again. “Y/N,” Ben’s voice startled you to a standstill, the sudden lack of footsteps louder than the pacing had been itself. You turned to face him slowly. He looked smaller than normal. There was a spot on his lip that had clearly been bleeding, torn as he worried it with his teeth. His brow was creased, his mouth turned down. Still in the same clothes, though they were ruffled, probably partly your fault. “Hi,” it was all you could think to say. “I heard you pacing.” “Sorry, I’ll keep the noise down.” “No, that’s not- it’s okay. I just thought, since we’re both clearly awake and since they,” he gestured vaguely towards the front door, “haven’t left yet, I thought you might like a cuppa.” “I didn’t think you drank tea,” “I don’t really, but you do.” You nodded and follow him toward the kitchen, though there was still the urge to run. Ben busied himself pulling out mugs and sugar and milk, boiling the kettle, as you took a seat at the counter. He didn’t say anything more until he was standing on the opposite side of the bench, your mugs between you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” “I get why you wouldn’t have wanted to. I wouldn’t have wanted to either.” “Yeah but still,” he took a breath and stared into his mug like there was some sort of answer hidden in it, “I know you’re thinking of leaving as soon as that lot have cleared out but please don’t. I promise I understand where you’re at and I’m not going to try and convince you or to chase you or anything like that. I really am trying not to feel this way.” He looked so worried and sad that before you could second guess yourself you reached across the bench and lay your hand over his, “It’s okay Ben, I know you wouldn’t. I just wasn’t expecting you to drop the L bomb.” “Please don’t hate me,” his voice was heartbreakingly soft and his eyes were pleading, shimmering with near tears, and if you hated anything it was that he could think such a thing. “I could never.” You knew exactly what you’d do, how you’d comfort him, if this was about anyone but you. But it was about you and you weren’t sure if it would be overstepping or making things worse to do it, “Can I hug you?” As soon as you saw him nod you were off your chair, around to his side of the bench, wrapping him up in your arms. His shoulders shook and you felt the damp of tears against your neck, but you didn’t mind, you just hugged him tighter.

You had to tell him to shut up after he’d let you go and immediately begun apologising for it. He smiled a small half-smile and nodded, letting out a slightly shaky breath. “We should get some sleep.” “Probably,” he sighed, “Does that mean you’re staying?” “If you don’t mind.” “Of course not,” Truthfully you felt too exhausted to think about going anywhere. You wished Ben goodnight and headed towards his spare room, that had really become your room, as he was filling a glass with water. With a start you remembered the flowers he’d given you and backtracked towards the front door to get them. They weren’t in great shape, slightly wilted, some stems bent more than they had been when they’d been given to you. All the same you picked them up, carried them back to the kitchen. Ben had gone but there was a tall glass jar on the drying rack that he must have been intending to recycle which made a fine enough vase. You carried them carefully back to your room and placed them on the bedside table before you changed and turned out the light.

The next morning neither of you brought up what happened. He was already awake and cleaning up after his breakfast when you got up and stumbled into the kitchen. You paused in the doorway, but he turned and gave you a single nod and asked if you wanted a coffee. There was an unspoken agreement to pretend that everything after you got out of the car at his place hadn’t happened. You were both tired and drained, but it was easier to write it off as a small hangover than admit to what had actually kept you up late. And, though there were a few slightly awkward moments, slip of the tongue phrases and hesitant touches that might have led somewhere if you let them, it wasn’t hard to fall back into your regular routines as if nothing had changed. The next month passed more or less incident free. You saw Ben as much as you ever had but it was never under the instruction of your agents, just spur of the moment trips to cafes or casual visits to each other’s places while neither of you was working. The tabloids were all over you anyway, there was no need to organise special dates or anything like that. You just made sure to let them see small intimacies that they could read as romantic – fond looks across tables, hands resting close enough to touch. Generally, away from the cameras, you maintained a respectful distance, the only acknowledgement of what had happened that night. Occasionally you allowed yourselves to get closer, a warm hug when Ben found out he’d got the part in the action movie he’d auditioned for, him brushing hair off your face as you sat in the sun reading. Whenever it happened you were left with a tightness in your chest and the overwhelming urge to kiss him again. It confused you, the way just thinking about him made your heart beat faster, how you couldn’t stop thinking about what it had been like straddling his lap with his hands squeezing you under your skirt. If you’d put your symptoms into google it would have turned up pages of information about crushes and compatibility, but that couldn’t be right. You couldn’t actually fancy Ben. Yes, okay, maybe there was some attraction there, but he was an attractive guy and you weren’t blind. You’d known he was handsome since you first saw him at the audition for Edith but that didn’t mean you wanted to jump his bones. It didn’t mean there was any substance to the thoughts. It had to be the job playing tricks on you. Afterall, it had been months since you started pretending to date him, months without so much as considering another person. Your brain was suggestable at the best of times – the nights you’d spent thinking about sleeping with Ben were testament enough – but now, with the knowledge that he was in love with you and having gone so long without anyone else’s affections, it was no surprise you were getting confused. And then there were the rules. Behaviours you’d ruled out. You’d broken about half of them just in the one night. You really only had Rules 5 and 1 still intact. No families, no sex. And humans were infamous for wanting what they couldn’t have. You couldn’t have sex so that’s why you kept thinking about fucking Ben. It wasn’t that you actually wanted to fuck him. It was just the situation, a combination of weird circumstances making you, for want of a better word, yearn for him. If only you could talk about it with someone. You were sure if you just talked though it with someone other than your own idiot brain you’d be able to prove it was situational, for sure. But Ben was the only one you wanted to talk to about it and he was absolutely off limits. It would just get his hopes up, make it harder for him to move on and eventually crush him when you turned out to be right. So you kept a polite distance.

The most interesting thing to happen all month was an in-person meeting with Ben, Peter and Mary to discuss the plans for the promotional tour. If either of them sensed anything was amiss between you, they didn’t mention it. Instead they spent the meeting raving about the success of the story and outlining what was to happen next. “Obviously, you’ll need to share hotel rooms.” “Is that really necessary?” Ben asked, glancing over at you. “Well you have to admit it would look odd if you didn’t, but I understand the concerns.” Peter said, though he’d have no way of knowing the full reason for Ben’s reluctance “You don’t have to worry though. The suites you’ll be in will have a secondary roll out bed that stores under the main one or, if that isn’t comfortable enough, there’ll be a couch as well.” “You’ll also be doing all your interviews together, aside from a couple of phone interviews that will be one on one and a few larger ones with the rest of the cast. The others will be either paired off or in a group for their part of the promotions. Except Claudia, who has a conflict in her schedule that means she won’t be able to join you in the US.” “So, it’ll start here with appearances on a few breakfast TV shows and then a day spent meeting journalists from magazines, newspapers and some entertainment blogs. Then you’ll head out to New York. We’ll email your flight details through to you, but it’ll be an early flight, first class naturally. You’ll have the day you land to yourselves to get settled but it also gives us extra time in case of delays with the flight. After that it’s back to business. Day one is another junket with various American publications and websites. You’ll have to take a few photos but mostly it’ll just be the interviews. The next couple of days are the same but it’ll all be recorded to post online. There’ll be more specific interviews that are a bit spaced out but I’ll get to them in a minute. After you’re done in New York then you have another flight to LA where the process will be pretty much the same. So, specifics. You’re booked to do a few radio interviews in both cities, as well as some more online content.” Peter checked his notes, “The puppy and thirst tweet interviews with Buzzfeed, the autocorrect interview with Wired and also something with Vanity Fair,” “Career timelines. One from each of you, filmed on the same day.” “Thank you, Mary, anything else?” “Vanity Fair also want a sit down interview with the both of you for their website. Plus we’ve got you onto James Cordon and Jimmy Fallon so you’ll have to record those episodes. And then, once you’re back home there’ll be a few more interviews for youtube channels and the like, and GQ are lined up to talk with Ben. It could be a cover; we’re waiting on confirmation. And I think…that covers it,” she snapped her notebook shut. “What sort of questions are going to come up?” you were curious how much of your romance was going to be off limits to the interviewers. “We don’t know specifics but you’re likely to be asked things like how this role was different to others you’ve done, um, what the director was like,” “No, I get that. I more meant questions about us.” Mary thought for a moment before she spoke, “There will of course be some questions relating to your relationship but nothing that any other couple wouldn’t want asked. It’ll be kept to respectful, non-intrusive questions about how you met and working with each other. If any questions are raised that you don’t want to or can’t answer you can always say you’d rather not talk about it.” “You’ve got nothing to worry about. The thing is, if we let anyone ask anything that would be considered too personal, everyone is going to work out that this isn’t real. So it’s in our interests and the studio’s interests, as much as yours, to keep everything above board. Sound good?” “Brilliant, thanks.” “Any other questions?” “Will we have much time off?” Ben asked, “I’ve got a couple of people I wouldn’t mind stopping in to see, if I get the chance.” “Of course. There’ll be some off time between interviews later on in the week and you’ll have most nights free. We’d like for you to go on at least one sit down dinner date, just the usual sort of thing, you know the drill. But other than that you’re free to spend the time that you’re not doing publicity however you want.”

The breakfast shows suited Ben more than they did you. He’d always been an early riser. Though even he admitted having to be up by five in the morning more than once in the week was not what he’d have chosen. But they were a good way to ease into the press tour. They never lasted long, and the questions were always easy and always the same. It was an early indication of which questions you’d receive again and again, the ones you were bound to grow board of. “So, can you give us a quick rundown of what this movie’s about?” “Well we play Andy and Edith who have just gotten engaged and, at the party, decide that, since they’re so good at the whole relationship thing, they should play matchmaker with their friends.” “The only problem is the friends don’t necessarily want to play along and it causes some problems for us.” The plot rundown was always followed by a short introduction to your characters. Then there was always a question aimed at Ben about how different Andy was to previous rolls he’d played. And then a question for you about what attracted you to the role. If you were lucky you’d get a few about the process of filming but more often than not they seemed to be running out of time and skipped straight to the last questions which always revolved around what it had been like to work with each other and how your relationship transfer to real life. The first time you had to answer it was a little awkward. You stuttered over your words and Ben wasn’t much better, but you got through it and by the time you were asked again you had your answers sorted. As predicted, you were able to pull those same answers out during the first junket day. Occasionally you’d get something different. One of the entertainment magazines did a quickfire quiz with all their interviewees which made a nice change, though you were sure your slow answers were because your brain had turned to mush during all the other repetitive moments. By halfway through the day you and Ben had begun playing games to keep yourselves entertained. You’d make bets for small change over dumb things like what the next interviewer would be wearing or how many times you could use the word romantic in a single interview. A few photos were taken, some just you and Ben, leaning against each other or gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, some with the other cast members which were fun. They broke up an otherwise fairly monotonous day. But it was only the beginning of what would turn out to be a rather long few weeks.

Felicity dropped you to the airport the morning of your flight, fussing over you as if you were moving to the other side of the world rather than visiting. She gave you a tight squeeze in the drop off zone wishing you luck and promising to collect your mail and water your few houseplants in your absence. “Tell that boyfriend of yours to look after you. If anything happens to you it’s his dick on the chopping block.” “You’ve not even met the poor bloke,” you laughed, “he wont have any idea why a mad woman is coming after him.” “Well that’s on you for not introducing me.” “Good thing you’ve got nothing to worry about then.” “I know. He loves you too much to let anything happen to you,” You had to force yourself to keep smiling at the reminder, still dealing with your mixed-up brain and confused desires. Eventually you managed to extract yourself from Felicity, promising you’d text her as soon as you landed. With a final hug you turned and headed inside. Ben was waiting for you a little inside the door, where you’d agreed to meet, both of you falling into your roles easily for the sake of whoever was watching and taking photos. It wasn’t until you were at security that you could drop hands and breathe freely again. Together you headed to your gate, stopping for coffee along the way, and met up with the rest of the cast, as well as the publicists who were organising the trip, which let you subtly put some space between you and Ben. It was fun, or at least as fun as sitting around an airport could be, and when your flight was called you all got up in an excited babble, making sure everyone had the correct bag and ticket. “Now, no funny business you two,” Alfie said pointing a warning finger at you and Ben, “save it for the hotel room.” You rolled your eyes and Ben laughed, both of you assuring him there’d be nothing of the sort. “Maybe just don’t use the bathroom after them,” Amber suggested with a wink. “I think the bigger worry,” you said, “is that Ben’ll try and squeeze in a sneaky smoke. I’ve never seen him go a full twelve hours without one.” “Bullshit! She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Your seat was beside Ben’s in the middle of the cabin and gave you plenty of space to spread out and get comfortable. A wall wrapped almost completely around the two seats to give you some privacy which was nice though you were sure you’d have to endure a few more jokes about what mischief you might be getting up to. But that was a train of thought you definitely did not need to be on. Especially when you literally couldn’t get away from Ben. You shook your head and looked around, waving at a couple of the others as they were led to their own closed off seats, but the image of what might happen were you actually dating Ben stuck. A flight attendant came around offering glasses of champagne as well as pyjamas, slippers and an amenity bag. You gladly accepted the drink, hoping it would help you relax more. “You’re not a nervous flyer, are you?” Ben asked quietly. “What? Oh, no, definitely not. Just…excited to get going.” “Good. I’m not either but I do get a little tense with the landings. So if I like, seem off towards the end of the flight that’s probably why.” “Thanks for the heads up,” you laughed, “if it helps I’ll let you squeeze my hand.” You instantly regretted the offer, inwardly cringing, but Ben was gracious enough to pretend he hadn’t heard it. Instead he opened his amenity bag and began examining the contents, pulling out a tube of shaving gel and giving it a sniff. Thankfully, the rest of the flight went smoothly. Ben was the perfect buddy for such a long flight. Calm and prepared, a host of potential time killers packed into his carry-on luggage. Shortly after take-off, he offered you a controller from his Nintendo Switch so you could play a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. It caught the attention of the others and you ended up sharing the controllers round in a tournament style battle for victory. A little later he pulled out a magazine of puzzles, inviting you to help him solve crossword clues and crack codes, your heads together as you leaned over each page and bickered about how to spell the answers. But he was also equally happy not talking, letting you do your own thing while he did his. It made you glad he was okay with just being friends. You did love him, just not in the way he meant, no matter what Felicity and your stupid subconscious said, and if you’d had to miss out on everything that came with being his friend because of this one thing, it would have made the whole situation ten times more distressing. It was rough enough as it was. When it came time to sleep Ben raised the privacy screen between your beds. You knew it was for the best and you wouldn’t have argued about it, but you couldn’t help the pang you felt, like you were being shut out. There had been a time when he would have offered to cuddle, even if it was said jokingly. But of course he wouldn’t now. You wished he would though. The discomfort of an unfamiliar bed with all the odd sounds and smells of an airplane made it hard to settle completely, but you wondered whether being able to cuddle Ben as you drifted off wouldn’t have helped. He was warm and familiar, and you associated him with your home as much as his. Perhaps that’s the sort of comfort you needed.

You landed around eight in the morning and were greeted by a couple of drivers which took you straight to the hotel. The excitement came back as you all compared suites, trying to work out who’d got the best one. Yours and Ben’s was the biggest, but only because there were two of you, and it ended up being designated the official party room. Not that you had the opportunity to party much. The first day was mostly spent unpacking and fighting the urge to go to sleep way too early. You and Ben took a walk, hand in hand just in case, to explore the area, making note of nearby bars and restaurants. You’d half been expecting to be swamped since the US was notorious for having particularly intrusive paparazzi but there ended up only being a couple following you, no more than you’d been dealing with back home. Ben made a joke about EastEnders not cracking the American market, but whatever the reason it wasn’t unwelcome. The others joined you, all yawning, for a dinner provided by room service and a quiet drink to toast the trip and the movie that had brought you all together. When they’d all cleared out, headed gratefully to their own beds, you and Ben flipped a coin for who’d get the bed on the first night with Ben winning out. It wasn’t too bad, the roll out bed. Not as soft as the main bed but with how exhausted you felt you didn’t really notice. After that it was down to business. The first few days were all pretty much the same. Wake up, earlier than you’d have liked, always beaten by Ben. Shower, get dressed, head downstairs to grab a coffee and watch Ben eat breakfast, listen to him offer you a bite of his toast and remind you of the importance of the meal, and then back up to your rooms were a black screen and a large print out of the movie poster had been set up behind some chairs. The games you’d began playing with Ben during the first lot of interviews in London continued because it was a quick and easy way to not lose your minds when you had to answer what drew you to the romantic comedy genre? for the hundredth time. A lot of the interviews blurred together but there were a few more memorable moments. One overenthusiastic woman entered the room and immediately began flirting with Ben. He smiled politely and shook her hand but you could see how uncomfortable he was and swung in to rescue him, introducing yourself to her. He whispered a quick thank you as you took your seats but she wasn’t completely distracted. “This movie. I’ve gotta say it has everything – I laughed, I teared up, the shirtless scenes,” she fanned her face and laughed, “Y/N, what’s it like working with this man. I mean, he’s gorgeous for a start.” You felt Ben tense up a little beside you but lay your hand on his reassuringly as you leaned forward and let out a giggle, “Obviously I agree. I wouldn’t have let him take me out on our first date if I didn’t. Plus he’s a total sweetheart, always knew how to keep moral up when we were shooting late and, professionally speaking, he’s one of the best people I’ve ever worked with. He always had really interesting ways to explore the characters and just made sure we had fun on set. Honestly, I can’t imagine having done this movie with anyone else.” “And I think you’re forgetting how gorgeous Y/N is,” Ben said, catching on, “I tell you, this woman looks stunning the second she gets out of bed. And she kept me on my toes for the whole shoot. She gives everything she does 110% and I think you’d have to agree that it shows in the final product.” “Aww, thanks babe,” “You’re welcome, cuddle bunny.” After the woman had left you bust out laughing about how uninformed she’d been about your relationship considering the look on her face. It helped you ignore how warm you suddenly felt. But she was the only uninformed one. Everyone else who came in had at least one question about what it was like to date the person you acted with. Did it make acting as a couple easier? (“A lot of the time, yeah. Although those scenes where we were fighting were a bit tough. I hate seeing her upset.”) Not to spoil anything but there’s one seen where Ben’s character Andy hooks up with someone else, was that hard to watch? (“I mean, we’re actors. We’ve both been doing this for a while and y’know sometimes you have to kiss someone at work. It’s kinda odd but it’s also pretty normal for us and we both understand how it works.”) Normally we end our interviews with a silly question about who your celebrity crushes are… (“I think you could probably work our answers out,”). Thankfully because there were so many to get through they moved quite quickly. You’d be out for lunch before you knew it and then it’d be time for a few more, often with the larger group or sometimes on your own. After the last journalist had left you’d go out for dinner with everyone else and maybe follow it with a drink at a nearby bar if you weren’t too worn out, and then I was back to your rooms to relax and sleep until your alarm woke you the next day to repeat it all over again.

It was a relief when the junkets ended, and you got to break the monotony of it all to record some slightly more interesting interviews. Ben was very little help during the Buzzfeed puppy interview – way too distracted by the balls of fluff climbing over his lap and attempting to lick his face to form a coherent answer to any of the questions. It was a cute sight though, the way his eyes lit up as soon as he met the dogs and how much he was laughing as he rolled on the ground with them. You were on the verge of suggesting you should get a dog when you remembered you weren’t actually living together, trying to clear the image of you and Ben snuggled up on a couch with a napping puppy across his lap. It was a little disconcerting how easily the fantasy had appeared, and it left you feeling out of sorts. If you’d hoped the next segment they had you record would distract you, you were quickly proven wrong. The thirst tweets were fun to read, mostly because you enjoyed making Ben blush so fiercely in payback for not answering anything during the puppy interview, but they could hardly be called a distraction. If anything, they just made you think about what else you could get up to, without the puppy. “Ben’s lips look like they were made to kiss…and not just on the mouth. Oh, um, well he is a very good kisser. Very very good. And, that’s all I’m gonna say.” You gave the camera a sly wink, already able to imagine how happy your agents would be and hoping Ben wouldn’t hold it against you. You glanced at him to check and found him covering the flush on his cheeks with his palms. He dropped his hands and looked straight at the camera, “God I hope my mum’s not watching. Sorry mum.” When you go back to the hotel you wished you had a separate room. The Buzzfeed videos, though short, took most of the day. You had to wait while the puppies were wrangled together and taken away, and then there were all the pauses to set up cameras and check mics were working. Plus you ended up filming a Q&A video about the movie as well. But not once did you stop thinking about Ben and what it might be like to actually date him. By the time you got back to the hotel all you wanted was to be alone for a little to try and sort out what you were feeling and maybe get yourself off. But it wasn’t to be. The others returned shortly after you did and bounced into your room to hang out. You had a few minutes after they went off to freshen up before dinner and Ben jumped in the shower but it wasn’t enough time and it took all of your energy to not think about joining him.

The next day was quieter with just two interviews booked, both with radio stations. You got to sleep a little longer and had a long break between commitments. Ben suggested you use the time to go on the “date” your agents wanted. You posted to your Instagram stories to make it look more legitimate, a selfie of you both on the street and then a shot of your drinks with Ben visible in the background “So I’m going to visit Joe tonight,” Ben said, glancing at you over his plate. “That’ll be good. How long since you last saw him?” “In person? Uhh, seven months I think, maybe a bit longer. But, um, you’re invited if you want.” “Me? Why?” Ben shrugged, “He wants to meet you.” “This is the same Joe that’s been leaving comments on your photos of us as if he’s jealous?” “That’s the one,” Ben chuckled. “The same Joe I heard you talking to?” “Mmhmm,” “And he was the one who suggested I come?” “Yeah.” The idea made you feel a little apprehensive, “Should I be worried?” Ben smiled to himself, “Do you want to come or not?” “Well I don’t want to intrude.” “You wouldn’t be, I swear. We’d just be having a quiet night at his anyway. He’s gonna make dinner or we’ll order something in and we’ll probably have a drink or two but like nothing outrageous. And it’s not a catch up visit because we talk all the time and he already knows everything I’m up to. It’s just a hang out, and probably the first of a few while I’m over here.” “You’re sure I wouldn’t be stepping on any toes?” “Positive. It was his idea so it’s not like you’ll be crashing.” That wasn’t hugely reassuring, but you said yes anyway, kind of curious yourself as to what he might have to say to you. Maybe he’d have something comforting to say about the whole situation with Ben.

That evening’s plans were on your mind for the rest of the day, though you shoved it aside to get through the final radio interview. Thankfully, the two hosts were funny and asked some questions that you hadn’t answered a thousand times already. “So, we’ve heard actors like to keep props from movies they work on as, like, souvenirs. Did either of you get to keep anything from The Perfect Match?” “I did,” you said, “Um, I kept Edith’s engagement ring.” “Really? You never told me that,” Ben said, clearly surprised. “Well I…shit I might be dropping myself in it here. I kinda didn’t tell anyone I took it,” Ben let out a bark of laughter. “It wasn’t a real engagement ring,” you hastened to add for the benefit of the audience, “just plastic but I got so used to wearing it and I wore it home on the last day of filming without thinking and I just…never took it back. If any of the crew are listening and have been wondering where it went, I’m sorry.” Ben was still laughing, “I can’t believe you stole the ring.” “What did you take then?” “Nothing,” he said with a shake of his head, “I’m not a thief like you apparently. And I didn’t think to ask for anything.” “Well, what would you have taken if you could?” one of the hosts asked. Ben thought for a moment, “Is it inappropriate for me to say the body pillow?” It was your turn to burst into laughter, “depends which version.” “Sorry, body pillow?” Both of the hosts looked at each other excitedly and then back to Ben. “Uhh, okay, so, no spoilers but there’s this one scene,” Ben started, “Andy’s a bit down because Edith isn’t there so his friends try to cheer him up by ordering a body pillow with Edith’s image on it.” “Yeah, but there were two versions made. The one that’s in the movie and one that was deemed, umm, a little too racy for the rating we wanted.” You could feel your face getting hot but it was partly the struggle not to laugh too much as you turned back to Ben, “So, which would you have asked for?” Ben shrugged, “Doesn’t really matter since I got the real thing.” The interviewers laughed at that, “Very smooth Mr Hardy,” “Clever answer.” You laughed and let them move you onto other questions but the thought stuck with you. Had he meant it? Or was it all for show?

Afterwards you returned to the hotel to kill time before you had to be at Joe’s place. Your mind was still racing with thoughts of what had happened during the radio interview and what might happen that night. Thoughts that were not helped by how worked up you were after days of pent up frustration. “Did you really take the engagement ring?” Ben asked, knocking you out of your reverie as he sat beside you on the couch. “Yeah, it’s sitting in my jewellery box at home. “Huh,” “What?” “Nothing, just uh, kind of funny that I drew it on your mug and you stole the real thing.” “Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that but yeah, it is a bit funny.” “That thing about the body pillow was a joke, by the way. I wouldn’t have actually asked for it,” “I figured. But um,” He was sitting so close his thigh was pressed up against you, “Yeah?” You shouldn’t say it. It was just because you were horny and he was available and into you and you really shouldn’t say it, “Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind so much if you’d kept it.” You licked your lips, noticing the way his eyes focused on the movement and didn’t shift away. “You wouldn’t?” “Maybe.” “Maybe it wasn’t so much a joke,” He was so close you could feel his breath on your face, and you had the desire to lean in and close the distance. You were half a second away from doing just that when Ben shook his head. “Fuck.” He leaned back, paused for a second, and then stood up, “We’ve gotta get ready to go to Joe’s.”

When you arrived at Joe’s place he greeted you wearing an old, navy blue apron over a t-shirt and jeans. “Benny boy!” he half yelled, throwing himself at the laughing blonde. “Hey Joe, this is, alright get off me, Jesus. This is Y/N,” “Hi, Y/N,” he said, still grinning as he held out his hand, “Lovely to finally meet you.” “Likewise,” you said with a smile, noting the way he glanced at Ben. He led you into the house saying something about checking the dinner and told you to make yourselves comfortable. Ben had no problem with that, heading straight for the fridge and grabbing out three bottles of beer. “Y’know you’re mean to eat this pasta with red wine, you uncultured swine,” but Joe accepted his bottle anyway. You took the one Ben offered you, mostly just to give you something to keep your hands busy as you took in the pale walls and clutter covering the benchtop – a mix of vegetable scraps and used dishes. Joe was instantly likeable, putting to rest any worries you’d had about meeting the one person in the world who knew the whole truth of your situation. You’d assumed Ben would have called him after you’d made out, and by the way he kept a close eye on your interactions with Ben you guessed you were right. But that wasn’t too hard to block out and you supposed he had good reason. He asked you questions over dinner, about yourself and your family and your work. And he made plenty of jokes, most of them at his or Ben’s expense. It was clear they’d known each other for a while, just based on how they acted when they were together and you could see why Ben would have confided in him. All around it was a very nice evening. Or it was for the most part.

After dinner, while you were working on a bottle of wine Joe had insisted on opening, Ben excused himself to have a smoke, leaving just you and Joe at the table. As soon as Joe heard the door shut behind Ben he leaned in, more serious than you’d seen him all night. “Don’t hurt him.” “I’m sorry, what?” you asked, not sure you’d heard right. “Ben’s told me everything. I know how he feels about you, I know you overheard him when he was talking to me, I know about the fight and what happened after the makeup date. I know everything. And I am begging you not to hurt him.” “I’m not going to.” He sighed, tilting his wineglass slightly, playing with the stem, “I’ve known Ben for a few years now. I’ve seen him crushing on someone, I’ve seen him drunkenly flirt with people, I’ve watched him ask someone out and then move on when they said no. I have never seen him this hung up on someone.” You went to speak but before you could Joe held up a hand and continued. “He’s not going to let on but he is white knuckling it at the moment. He’s been attracted to you since you first met, I have the texts to prove it. The day your situation was proposed he called me, as soon as he’d got home from work. He told me all about it, asked if I’d ever been offered something similar or if I knew someone who had. I didn’t believe him at first but he insisted it was real and asked what I thought. Of course, I told him it was a bad idea if he had any sort of a crush on you. The next day he sent me a message that just said I fucked up. I think he’d originally planned to ask you out at the end of the shoot but then he volunteered to torture himself instead.” “That’s not my fault,” “I’m not saying it is. I’m just trying to help you understand where he’s at because I know he won’t have told you. He’s pretending he’s getting over you, that he’s moved on from whatever weird little hiccup he had. But it’s not true.” Joe paused, turned towards the door, but when he heard nothing he kept talking, “I’ve been watching him all night. The way he talks to you, the way he looks at you. He’s still in love you and this press trip is killing him. Do you like him?” “If you’ve heard everything then you already know,” you said, ignoring the way your insides squirmed. “I’d like to hear it from you,” “No. I don’t like him. Not in that way.” Joe watched you intently, frowning, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” you said, hoping it sounded more certain than you felt. Joe sighed again, “If that’s true then you’ll understand why I wanted to have this conversation. Please don’t toy with him.” Your mind jumped straight to that afternoon when you’d nearly kissed him again and you felt guilty, “It might come as a surprise to you but I do actually care about Ben and I really am trying not to overstep or make this harder for him. And it’s not so easy on my side of it either” “I know, I can see that. All I’m saying is to be careful. For his sake.”

You were still thinking about the conversation as you lay in bed that night. What exactly had Joe seen in the way you and Ben interacted that made him determined to say something? Why, when you said you weren’t into Ben, had he said if that’s true, like you were intentionally lying about your own feelings? And god the butterflies you’d felt at the suggestion he might have asked you out. What the fuck was that about? Was it because you liked the idea or hated it? Or was it some in between thing where you really hated it but practically living with Ben had clouded your judgement until you thought maybe it’d be okay? You suddenly felt desperate for the trip to be over. At least that way you’d be able to get some personal space back, be able to think without Ben there on the other side of the room all the time. With a sigh you rolled over to face the wall and tried to sleep so you’d be ready for another day of press. The next week and a half was full of interviews with online content creators and radio stations you’d never heard of before. But at least they weren’t as monotonous as the earlier interviews had been. Ben visited Joe again a few times which you were grateful for since it meant he was out of your hair for a while, but you rarely got the time to yourself, the others usually setting up camp in front of the TV in your suite. Then it was time to pack up and fly to LA to start the whole process again. Another two days of junkets and then more spaced out press. You did the autocorrect interview together, took a quiz about romcom quotes on James Cordon’s show and ranked your favourite romcoms on the radio. And then it was back to London to finish the publicity. Straight from the airport to a hotel, already set up and waiting so you could meet with some entertainment vloggers who had missed out at the beginning of the tour. You sighed when you realised it was going to be another day of the same old questions and bet Ben that you’d have to repeat the story about almost breaking your leg during the engagement party ten times. He took you up on it but only because he thought it’d be closer to twenty. Ben called in a room service order for coffee and you both crossed your fingers and hoped you’d make it through before the jetlag really kicked in. “God you’re lucky you’re done,” Ben said once the last interviewer had left, “I’ve still got fucking GQ tomorrow.” His voice turned into a whine, “All I wanna do is sleep,” You had to laugh as he pouted, “Poor Benny,” “Yes, poor Benny. I’m so ready to just sleep in my own bed and have a long, hot shower in my own bathroom.” “And a wank without being interrupted,” if you’d been less worn out you would have stopped yourself from saying it. “All this time I’ve known you and I’ve still not managed to pull your mind from the gutter,” Ben tutted, clearly equally as exhausted since he didn’t even flinch at the suggestion. “If anything I’ve pulled you down with me.” “You’re a horrible influence,” You both fell into laughter, further proof you needed some rest, but it felt good too. You only stopped when one of the publicists came over to let you know you were free to go. “Alright, cuddle bunny, I’ll see you later, yeah?” Ben pulled you into a hug. “Let me know how GQ goes. I’m gonna get Thai for dinner tomorrow night so if you wanna come chill at mine, that’s totally cool.” “Thai sounds really nice,” “You don’t have to,” you suddenly realised what you’d offered, “we were just talking about wanting time alone so whatever,” “Hanging out with you wasn’t the problem, it was how busy we were. But if we’re just eating takeout and watching Netflix then I’m there.” “I’ll make sure to get the large pad Thai then,” “I’ll bring the diet coke.”

The trip had given the tabloids a lot to work with. You hadn’t kept up to date with it all while you’d been away because you’d been promoting the movie but, once you got back home, you found yourself checking on them more regularly, filling in the spare time by scrolling through twitter or Instagram. There were photos of you at the airport, photos from the streets of LA, gifs and screencaps from interviews you’d done, posted by fans yelling about how cute you were together. The way Ben had described you to the flirty reporter was reposted over and over with pleading face and heart eyes emojis and comments about finding a man like that. Miniscule looks you’d shared without noticing were slowed down in gif form and posted as proof of how in love you were, how wrong anyone who suggested you might be fake were. By far the most commonly occurring one was the thirst tweet video. You saw it shared over and over and over. You were tagged in fanfics inspired by it, in which Ben ate you out until you were an overstimulated mess. It was odd and you’d never have admitted to reading them but it was definitely entertaining and not too far from some of the things you’d imagined yourself. But going back to living on your own didn’t help your confusion the way you thought it might. You missed seeing Ben every night and every morning, couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened if you’d kissed him. And you were fast running out of excuses for why. It was one thing to blame the situation when you were sharing a hotel room, practically forced to spend most of your time together, and playing up the relationship for the cameras. But now, in the comfort of your own home, when you and Ben could freely choose when and how often you saw each other, it was much harder to justify how often you thought about him, how badly you wanted to return to that night on his couch and just let it happen. And the more you spent time with Ben, the harder it was to keep from admitting you might actually have been wrong before. Maybe there was something there, though Joe’s words stuck in the back of your mind making it hard to admit it to yourself. You got quite good at telling yourself it was just physical. You loved Ben as a friend and a small part of you wanted to spend the night with him. That wasn’t so unusual. Friends slept together all the time. Maybe if you could sleep with him you could stop thinking about him. Maybe he’d stop thinking he was in love with you too. You laughed at yourself the first time it occurred to you. It was ridiculous and stupid and so unlikely to help…but maybe. Maybe you could make a deal with the universe. Just this one thing and then you could be done with it all.

You came to regret that little notion, came to curse the universe for listening to you. Ben and you had decided to go out for coffee when his phone rang. He excused himself to answer it, leaving you to your slice of brownie as you waited for him to come back. When he did he was frowning. “What happened?” “Uhh, okay. You remember that,” he glanced around and lowered his voice, “that rule we have about not meeting each other’s families? Yeah, I don’t think we can hold them off any longer. That was my mum. See, there’s this big family reunion next week – and I mean big, like all the cousins and great aunts and uncles and grandparents and fucking everyone. We have one every few years, book out this restaurant slash beer garden for a whole day and basically just have this big family piss up. And, um, when my parents heard I was dating you, they extended the invite to you as well but it was like a few months ago and I said I didn’t think you’d be able to make it but now they’re insisting and I tried to say we weren’t ready to meet each other’s families yet but they’re calling bullshit on that because as far as they know that was part of why we had the fight but then we fixed it and also I might have said I was meeting your parents to get out of a lunch I didn’t want to go to.” He said everything so fast you could barely keep up. “Wait, you told them you were meeting my family to get out of a lunch?” “Maybe. But that’s in the past Y/N. Our problem is happening next week.” “Shit,” “Yeah. It’s…I can try and tell them you’re busy that day but I’m pretty sure they’ll just ask again and then we’d be stuck having dinner with just mum and dad and maybe my brother. This way we get it over and done with and if there’s more people we should be able to sneak out earlier.” “Yeah, no, that makes sense.” “There’s just one other little thing.” “What?” “Well, my family live a couple of hours away from here and I’d kind of originally planned to stay overnight in my old room because otherwise I’d have to worry about how much I’d had to drink and if I was able to drive back late at night and it’s just easier to stay there and head back the next day.” “Oh, well, I mean I don’t mind staying over. Um, would we have to share the bed or…?” “Maybe. It’s not like the hotel where we had a whole second bed but I’d be fine sleeping on the floor for a night or we can divide the bed with pillows if that’s easier. I could try looking into other accommodation but Mum’d probably kick up a stink about us paying for it when she’s got a perfectly fine room on offer.” “If you’ve already said you’d stay then we might as well stay. Wouldn’t want her thinking I’m so high maintenance I can’t stay one night under her roof now would we?” Ben laughed, “I don’t know, it’d stop her from inviting you over again. You swear you’re okay with this?” “Yeah. We knew something like this might come up.” “Alright, I’ll let her know you’ll be there. And I’ll buy you dinner tonight to make up for it.” You smiled and said that was a fair exchange but you’d suddenly lost your appetite.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #finally got this edited to a point where i think im happy with it #hope you like it #it's all building to something good i swear

203 notes · View notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Not Losing You (Part 3)

Summary: Dean’s not out of the woods yet and there’s more trouble on the way...

Masterlist

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: language, life-threatening illness, implied past sexual harassment/assault

_____

“Hey,” said Sam, shaking your shoulder awake. You were back in your room and you were wide eyed, instant wetness filling them. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s okay.”

“He’s gonna-”

“No, like seriously. His numbers shot up like crazy last night and all this morning. He’s ahead of schedule even,” said Sam.

“What?”

“The second transplant worked,” said Sam with a smile. “Dr. Ross said it’s very likely he’ll pull through to the three week mark which is super important.”

“I thought…” you said.

“Me too. Last night he really started to rebound I guess. You were passed out wincing in that wheelchair this morning when they stuck you back in here but I think you’re up for a visit. Dean’s up, actually awake, if you want to pay him a visit,” said Sam.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d really love to.”

Two Weeks Later

“Your labs are very good, Dean,” said Dr. Ross outside his room. “Your counts are coming back and there’s no reaction to the transplant.”

“Yeah but about that other thing I asked about,” said Dean.

“You can’t have pie, Dean. Strict diet,” he said. You chuckled and Dean smirked at you, staring at the door to the room. “No visitors just yet.”

“Someday I’ll bust out of here, sweetheart,” he said.

“I’ll make you a pie once you’re allowed some,” you said. “How’s that sound?”

“As if I didn’t have even more of a reason to live,” he chuckled.

“Alright, love birds. Dean needs to rest and Y/N has work I believe,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, I got a date with you tonight, cutie. Seven sharp,” said Dean.

“I’ll be here,” you said.

“Y/N, I’ll walk you out,” said Dr. Ross. You waved bye to Dean before you headed to the elevators, Dr. Ross, pausing halfway there. “We’ve noticed something about Dean’s recovery that’s a little odd but maybe not.”

“What’s that?”

“He does better and heals faster when you’re here. I suspected after his numbers recovered on the breakeven night a few weeks back. It’s like the opposite of broken heart syndrome,” he said. “Your presence helps him heal from our best guess. It’s likely psychological which is helping with the physical. I know you have work but any time you can spend with him seems to be helping.”

“This is a weird question but do you have an extension plug I can borrow?”

You spent the day working on your laptop outside Dean’s room, Dean taking naps on and off, sometimes chatting with you but mostly watching you work or listening to the TV. Around five you told him you wanted to go home and change for your date, Dean laughing but you promised you’d be back quick.

“That was not the outfit I was expecting,” said Dean when you sat down in the chair two hours later and tucked your backpack underneath.

“Sweatpants are the shit,” you said, pulling your blanket out and tossing it over yourself. “Want to have a sleepover?”

“I’m so ready for a sleepover date,” he said, sitting up in bed and smirking. “Is that my shirt?”

“Maybe,” you said, snuggling into the soft chair.

“God, you are attractive,” he said.

“I know. So hot,” you said, giggling when he stared so goofily at you. “What?”

“You look happy,” he said. “I like happy you.”

“You really have no right for making me as happy as you do,” you said.

“I know I put you through a lot this past month,” he said. “I mean a lot. But despite all that, I think you’re actually happier.”

“I care about you, Dean,” you said, staring off down the hall. “I...I might care too much.”

“Y/N. Sweetheart. Look at me please,” he said. You turned your head and rested it against the glass, Dean looking bashful but serious. “Do I look like I give a fuck about what an acceptable time period is to say I care about you?”

“Loser,” you smiled.

“Sammy told me how upset you got over me almost clocking out early,” he said.

“I care about you,” you said, staring at him. “You’re the first person in a long time that cared about me too.”

“This Liam douchebag, he’s not the only person that’s hurt you,” said Dean.

“He’s the only one that hurt me in that kind of way,” you said.

“Where are your parents?”

“Where are yours?”

“Why do I have a feeling we’re going to have the same crappy answer?” he asked.

“I can guarantee we don’t,” you said, closing your eyes.

“Tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine,” he said.

“Disowned,” you said.

“I punched my dad in the face when I was eighteen. He threw me out. I haven’t spoken to either one since. They don’t even know I have cancer,” said Dean.

“Your parents don’t know?” you said, sitting up and crossing your legs, Dean nodding. You put a hand on the glass and frowned, looking down. “Dean, that’s…”

“They gave up on me a long time ago. I don’t want them around if they can’t accept me for me,” said Dean.

“I understand,” you said, fixing your blanket. “I really wish I could give you a hug right now.”

“Soon I can have visitors,” said Dean. “I’m really looking forward to just laying on the couch or in bed with you.”

“Me too,” you said, resting your forehead against the glass as you stared at your lap.

“What’s wrong?”

“How could you not tell your parents, Dean? Why didn’t Sam or Jess?” you asked.

“I swore them not to,” said Dean. “I wasn’t good enough for them when I decided to work on cars and have a manual job for a living. I was filth and had wasted years of their lives of scrimping and saving for me to go to school. I told them to give it to Sam and they did. The ironic part is my dad is a mechanic,” said Dean.

“Is it really that bad?” you asked.

“I haven’t heard from them in ten years. I died a long time ago to them,” he said.

“I suppose I’m still getting used to the no parents thing,” you said.

“When’d it happen?” he asked.

“About two years ago,” you said. “I moved here because it was nowhere near them.”

“They hurt you?” he asked. You shook your head and leaned back in your seat.

“I assaulted my cousin’s husband. I even got temporarily arrested if you can believe it,” you said.

“Bad girl,” he teased. You gave him a half smile but he was smiling wide. “Good for you.”

“He got handsy. I may have overreacted. I bruised his groin region apparently,” you said.

“Oh, I so love this story,” said Dean with a smirk. “Hit him where it hurts.”

“The family didn’t think it was so funny. I argued with my parents when they said I should apologize for my reaction. Then my dad made a comment about me being single and I got so angry at them. They’re supposed to protect me, not take someone else’s side when something like that happens. I walked out of their lives and aside from a random christmas card, I don’t hear anything,” you said.

“They know about Liam?” asked Dean.

“You don’t even know the full Liam story,” you said. “It’s not something I want to share in this kind of...setting.”

“The way Sammy talks about it, this guy hurt you bad, didn’t he,” said Dean.

“He and his family will pay. Sam and his old professor are making sure of that,” you said.

“Why won’t you tell me?” asked Dean. “My brother knows.”

“...He’s my lawyer. It’s embarrassing, Dean,” you said.

“You should never be embarrassed someone hurt you.”

“I know. I’m trying to learn that,” you said. You watched him throw back his covers and sit up, swinging his legs over the edge before he stepped over to the glass. “Dean. You need to rest.”

He kneeled down and rested his forehead against the glass, smiling at you when you did the same.

“Maybe someday I can know when you’re ready to tell me,” he said. “But until then...I got a surprise for you for our date, don’t I, Sammy?”

You spun around, Sam smiling as he popped up behind you, set down a food container in a chair and slid it over to you.

“A got you some of that pasta from The York you enjoyed so much. I will live vicariously through you as I suck down some of the blandest nutrient packed food on the planet,” said Dean. “Sammy, your services are no longer required.”

“I can’t wait until I can tackle you again,” said Sam, ruffling your head. “Netflix is on channel 2. Enjoy your date guys.”

“Dean,” you said, smiling as you pulled the container into your lap. “This is…”

“It’s dinner. About time we had our second date,” said Dean, chuckling as he walked across his room and to a table, grabbing a liquid drink and taking it back to bed. “Mmm. Yummy.”

“It keeps you full of vitamins,” you said.

“I want a bacon cheeseburger,” he said. “The second I’m out of here, I want to go get a bacon cheeseburger. And cherry pie.”

“We’ll have to go get some then,” you said.

“What would you like to watch first, sweetheart?”

“Good morning,” said Dean as you stirred awake in your fold out chair. You hummed and stretched, Dean smirking at you from bed. “How was the chair?”

“Pretty good actually. These one’s meant for sleeping are pretty good,” you said. “How’d you sleep?”

“Better than usual,” he said as he sat up and you saw Dr. Ross start to head in.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you said, yawning as you stood. You were gone only a few minutes but it was enough time apparently for Dr. Ross to tell Dean something.

He was sat on the edge of his bed in the room, staring at the floor when you returned.

“Dean?” you asked, Dr. Ross with his back to you.

“I just…” he said, standing and going to the wall, leaning against it. He put his hands on his face and you shook your head.

“No, you were getting better…” you said, Dean suddenly leaning over to the door and pushing it open.

“Want to visit?” he smirked, poking his head into the hall.

“Oh my God,” you said, Dr. Ross smiling when he spun around. “I will kill you, Dean.”

“After everything we just went through? Nah,” he said as you walked to the door, Dr. Ross nodding when you stepped inside. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said.

“Remember what I said, Dean,” he said. “Five minutes and then you have treatment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Dean as Dr. Ross stepped out. “We have to keep this PG. No touching allowed unfortunately.”

“S’okay. I’m happy to not have a piece of glass between us for once,” you said. “You must be doing better. I thought it’d be another week or two before you’d be allowed to have us come in.”

“I’m doing better than I was expecting. Rossy is putting me on a new treatment. Clinical trial,” he said. “I should say experimental.”

“Does Sam know?” you asked.

“He doesn’t know I said yes. If it works, I go from sixty something percent odds to ninety. Less chance of complications. I just have to not have a reaction today,” said Dean.

“Reaction?” you asked.

“There’s a chance that your body treats it as an allergic reaction. If that happens, I’m done,” he said. “But if it doesn’t-”

“When were you planning on telling me this?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“...After the treatment. People in the study that have a reaction, they have it fast, within minutes. You never would have known anything other than they needed to do a test and asked you to step out for a little bit,” he said.

“Well, thanks,” you said, rolling your eyes. He frowned and you shook your head. “Obviously it’s your choice but...if we’re gonna do this, you gotta-”

“What do you mean ‘if’, Y/N? I thought we were doing it,” he said, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms in response.

“If we’re going to be a real couple, you need to share-” you said, Dean going back to his bed. “Or just walk away. Whatever.”

“Funny. I thought we were a real couple,” he said. “Maybe you’re just telling me what I want to hear.”

“Oh yeah?” you scoffed.

“Yeah. You feel sorry for me. Pity me. I don’t need your pity,” he said.

“I don’t need melodramatic immature boys,” you shot back as you turned away.

“Yeah, why don’t you run away. It’s your go to, isn’t it?” he said. You froze and cocked your head, looking over your shoulder with a glare.

“I think it’s a good idea if we spent some time apart,” you said.

“Please. I’ll be grateful for the alone time,” he said. You rolled your eyes. “You got some money now. Why don’t you see about getting your own place for a while. I don’t think we’re at the living together stage yet.”

“You say I’m the one that pities you,” you laughed. “That’s rich. Don’t worry. I won’t be there when you get back.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“You can go now,” he said.

“Yeah, I think I will,” you said. You quickly shoved your blanket in your backpack and headed down the hall, Dr. Ross raising an eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Peachy.”

You closed your eyes as you stared at the roof of your car, trying to get comfortable in the backseat that night. Your phone rang and you picked it up from the floor, closing your eyes when you saw it was Dean.

“I see you survived. What do you want?” you breathed out.

“I want you to go home,” he said, his voice light and gentle.

“Don’t worry about me Dean.”

“I was moody and nervous for the treatment. I’m sorry. Go home. Sleep in bed. I’ll apologize in person tomorrow but please don’t sleep in your car. I’ll sick my buddies on you if I have to,” he said.

“I think I’m better off alone, Dean,” you said quietly. “You were right. I run away.”

“You’re scaring me. You’re supposed to be the one that gets scared, not me. Come on. Don’t mess up our thing now,” he said, trying to chuckle but you heard how forced it was. “Don’t run off on me, sweetheart.”

“I’m happy you’re feeling better,” you said, watching some rain come down and hit the windows. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’d be dead if it weren’t for you, you know.”

You sighed but stayed quiet, Dean swallowing so loudly you could hear it over the phone.

“I’m sorry for being an ass,” he said.

“Me too. You’re under a lot of stress, Dean. It’s okay,” you said.

“Please promise me you’ll go home,” he said.

“I’m not going back to my parents,” you said.

“Not your parents. Home. The apartment. Your home,” he said.

“It’s your home. I was only crashing there. That’s all it was ever supposed to be,” you said, throwing an arm over your face.

“It’s our home. I let you walk away once, mostly because I knew I’d see you again and we could work it out. This time though...I don’t want this morning to be the last time I ever see you,” he said.

“Why? All I have is problems. You need someone that can focus on you,” you said.

“That thing your describing is called a medical professional and I got plenty of those around here. What I need is my best friend back. Nobody else visited me everyday. No else put up with me smelling like throw up and needing hugs and was there for me no matter what was going on in their life. No one else bought me a hat so I wouldn’t be embarrassed about having no hair because the truth is I am. I ask if you’re okay, you ask if I’m okay. It’s our thing, sweetheart. I want to keep doing our thing, Y/N, for as long as I can,” he said.

“You’re not gonna die, right?” you whispered.

“Well...someday. But from this? Odds are getting lower every day. Today was a win Rossy said. Besides, you owe me a bacon cheeseburger and slice of cherry pie if I recall,” he teased.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, trying to wipe off your face. “Yeah.”

“You okay to drive home?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you sniffled as you sat up. “I’ll be okay.”

“Listen. My two friends, Cas and Benny, they’ve been out of state at a training course for our shop the past few months but I know they flew in tonight. I’m gonna give ‘em a call and send ‘em over to keep you company for me, okay?”

“Dean, you don’t-”

“I get to take care of you too. I should have told you earlier about the treatment. I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t pull anything like that again and it’s good, Winchester,” you said, using your shirt to dry your face.

“Take a shower for me when you get home. It’ll help you feel better,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “Dean?”

“Hm?”

“The treatment you got today...how long before you know it works?” you asked.

“Depends on how fast my blood counts come back but the fact I didn’t have a reaction is really good news. A week more and then I might finally get out of these damn woods for once,” he said. “I’m really looking forward to getting out of them. Until then though, take it easy?”

“Okay,” you said. “Okay.”

“Text me when you get home. I’ll have my boys over soon,” he said.

“Alright. I will.”

“Be safe.”

“You too, Dean.”

“Hey! Chickadee, you home yet?” you heard as you were getting dressed in Dean’s bedroom after your shower an hour later.

“Would you answer to that?” you heard another voice say.

“Don’t be pissy, Cassie,” said the first voice.

“You ate my snack!” said the second.

“It was fucking free airplane food. A bag of pretzels. Go raid Dean’s pantry if I deprived you so badly.”

“It’s the principle, Benjamin.”

“It’s the principle,” mocked the other one.

You stuck your head out of the hallway, raising an eyebrow at the two men in the living room.

“Benjamin?” you asked, the slightly larger one turning his head, both of them giving you a smile.

“Benny. Castiel. Deano said he was giving you a heads up,” he said.

“If you were her would you-”

“Go eat a snack. You’re cranky,” said Benny. Cas rolled his eyes but walked into Dean’s kitchen. You wrapped Dean’s flannel around yourself and stepped into the hall, Benny giving you a smile. “You must be Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly.

“Dean said you were having a rough night.”

“...A lot going on right now,” you said. “He was worried is all. He overreacted. You guys just got home from months away. I’m sure you’d rather go to your own houses.”

Cas poked his head out of the kitchen, mouthful of pretzels and cocking his head.

“She must not know us very well,” he said after he’d chewed some.

“Dean asks us to do something, we do it,” said Benny. “Always been that way, always will be that way. So get used to our faces.”

“You got any dip?” asked Cas, grabbing another handful of food.

“I think there’s ranch in the fridge,” you said.

“It’s fine,” he said, carrying the bag into the living room, taking a seat on the couch and looking around. “Did he clean?”

“You think Deano cleaned?” laughed Benny as he sat down, glancing at you. “I think it was our new friend.”

“I’ve been staying here. It’s complicated,” you said, carefully walking out and sitting in the chair, both guys devouring the bag.

“Let’s order pizza,” said Cas, pulling out his phone.

“Wings. Oh, and fries too,” said Benny. “Oh and something with chocolate.”

You stared at them as they bickered for a moment over toppings, Cas ordering enough food to feed an army.

“Alright, it’ll be here in half an hour,” he said, stretching in his seat. “I’m gonna shower quick.”

“Remember there’s a lady in the house,” said Benny. “Pants, Cas.”

“How ever would I survive without you?” said Cas. “Y/N, I’ll keep the bathroom clean.”

“Really, it’s fine, Cas. Use whatever,” you said.

“So,” said Benny when Cas headed down the hall. “It sounds like you’ve been taking care of our boy while we were gone.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you said.

“Not the way he says it,” said Benny. “I ain’t talking about you giving him all those cells either.”

“Again, I didn’t do anything,” you said.

“Mhm,” he said. “You’re not much of a conversationalist, are ya.”

“I don’t know you and it’s ten thirty at night after a long day. I’m not particularly in the mood to talk,” you said.

“I see why Dean asked us to come over,” he said.

“Enjoy your food. Goodnight, Benny,” you said as you stood.

“You are just like him,” he said as you went past. “Dean.”

“No. I’m not. He’s normal and happy.”

“Yup, you two are just like one another I’m betting. You both got that put yourself down thing all the time going on,” he said.

“I’m not really in the mood for whatever this is so-“

“This is me saying thank you for taking care of one of my best friends while Cas and I were away. Dean doesn’t have many people left and what he’s going through, no one should do that alone,” he said.

“Like I said, I didn’t do anything,” you said.

“Alright. You gonna sit back down or what?” he asked. You settled back into your seat, Benny cocking his head. “It was the hair wasn’t it. Boy always gets ‘em with the hair.”

“Huh?”

“Dean’s hair. He’s lured in more than one woman with that mess on his head,” said Benny.

“Uh no. He was nice. He doesn’t even have hair right now, just some peach fuzz,” you said.

“It’ll come back,” said Benny, leaning back into his seat more. “You know he hasn’t had a girlfriend since he was diagnosed. Not been on a single date. Well he’s been on dates but only first ones. He stopped after that kept happening.”

“I imagine dating isn’t really on your mind when you find out news like that,” you said.

“He didn’t tell you, did he.”

“Tell me what?”

“Dean had been dating this girl for nearly a year when he found out. She dumped him the next day.”

“No. That’s horrible.”

“Dean said it was cool but we knew it wasn’t. He needed someone and he got left out on his own. We were always leery of the chick. Deano was settling for someone that put him down a lot. We were pretty surprised when he told us about his new girlfriend about a month back. He swore he’d never have one again,” said Benny.

“He never can seem to catch a break,” you said. Benny smiled and shook his head.

“I’d disagree. He’s got odds of living, he’s got someone that cares about him. He really likes you, Y/N. You gave him a bit of faith in humanity back. He was pretty low. Don’t call that nothing,” he said.

“I was pretty low too,” you said quietly, Benny nodding. “How long have you been friends with Dean?”

“First grade. I used to be a skinny little kid if you can believe it. I was new that year. No one in my class wanted to be my friend. Dean and Cas though at recess, they saw me and asked me to play since I was by myself. They were my best friends after that. Every single day after that we were together. We opened a garage together.”

“Really? I thought Dean just worked at one,” you said.

“Cas handles the more business side but us three are equal partners in it. We do pretty good too. We like it. Dean’s folks weren’t too thrilled,” said Benny.

“He said he never told them he got sick,” you said.

“He didn’t. None of us did. We wouldn’t break his trust like that,” said Benny.

“He needed someone to take care of him,” you said.

“He’ll pull through. He always does. He was saying he’s got real good chances if he can get through the next few weeks,” he said.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, ducking your head down. You felt tears prickle your eyes. You didn’t even know why you were upset. For Dean. For you. For how his ex-girlfriend had treated him. You honestly didn’t know anything other than that you cared too much. You were going to screw something else up soon and he’d see you as being too clingy.

“Hey,” said Benny softly, suddenly kneeling down in front of your chair. “Can I hug you?”

You nodded and felt him wrap you up in a big bear hug, pulling you over to sit on the couch. He got up for a minute and returned with a box of tissues and a blanket. It was heavy, a weighted one and he tucked you into his side when he sat back down.

“Who’s been taking care of you?” he asked.

“What?” you asked, hiccuping slightly.

“Who takes care of you?”

“I’m fine. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. Other people have it way worse,” you said, sniffling again.

“Oh, you are so wrong, chickadee. Everybody needs somebody to take care of them sometimes. Dean’s not quite up to the job right now which is why he sent us. So you cry or vent or whatever you want to feel better, okay?” he asked.

“I don’t…” you said, hearing Cas come out of the bathroom, pausing when you both looked back at him.

“Dean said you’d be a hard one to crack,” he said, walking around to the other side of the couch and sitting down. He threw an arm over your shoulders and smiled at you. “You should have seen how bad Benny cried when Dean told us the news. Trust us, there’s no such thing as being embarrassed around us.”

“I’m glad Dean has friends like you guys,” you said, blowing your nose while Benny ran a hand up and down your back.

“You want to talk about anything?” asked Cas. You shook your head and it was quiet for a moment.

“Well let’s stick on a movie. We got some good food coming soon,” said Benny. They didn’t say much aside from occasionally asking if you needed anything.

You only had one slice of pizza but they polished off more of the food than you thought they would. By the time they were finished it was close to midnight and you were exhausted.

“I’m going to head to bed guys,” you said as you stood up.

“Alright. Try to get some sleep. We can go see Dean tomorrow,” said Cas.

“Goodnight,” you said, walking down to the bedroom. You flopped down on the mattress, letting out a shaky breath. After a moment you got under the covers and rolled over, spotting a call pop up on your phone.

Dad

“What?” you snapped as you grabbed the phone. “It’s midnight. What the fuck do you want?”

“Mom and I are at the airport. We’re staying at the Hilton nearby. We need to talk tomorrow,” he said.

“I haven’t spoken to you in two years,” you said.

“We heard about this Liam guy,” he said. You swallowed, expecting another disappointed talk. “Your cousin divorced George. He cheated. More than once.”

“Good for her,” you said dryly.

“We’re sorry. We know you were telling the truth now. He even admitted it.”

“I think it’s too late for that,” you said. “Please don’t call again.”

_____

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #au

417 notes · View notes

smallestclowninthecircus · 3 years

Text

Tma season 2 notes baybeee

I made myself take several breaks so I could give my frie d who is listening to it at the same time as me a chance to catch up. Honestly just posting them so I have them saved somewhere but whatever.

ep 41: real graham wrote keep watching before he was replaced. Jon feels like he's being watched. But they werent replaced by things related to the eye. It's the web that's on the box that replaces them. Endless hallways and doors to nowhere. I bet nicholas will have ideas what entity this relates to. If it even does. They're like the tunnels in the one with the builder guy. Tunnels closing in etc. Also like the cave diving one. He's assuming it's just one

ep 42: so 100 gecs? (IM SORRY I LIKE 100 GECS BUT LMAO) so there's some entity related to music right? There's the piper episode and the 27 w/ the calliope. Ah yes, this season is gonna be the season of Paranoid!Jon

ep 43: section 31? fucking books. god no. smashed lights? cult lady did that. covered the lights too. she mentioned a spooky clown doll. thats not random.

ep 44: is this that same circus that got mentioned before? it is! the pipe organ! pop off organ! pipe off! mouth on the stomach! yes! mouths in unusual places my beloved!

ep 45: antiques! like that one ep!

ep 46: every time books get mentioned i sigh. hhh sus smells. it got brighter. I get the vibes occasionally that the dark and the eye are sorta at odds with eachother. GRRR BARK BARK LEITNER. ayyy ex altiora. entity go brr. which entity do we thing it is? my guess is The Dark. The book buyer's name is Mike. He has scars? Electricity? The childhood friend of the guy who got it later on perhaps? The Vast? its formatted like an entity idk. This happened before the other one. He got trapped in the wood carving. a win for the web lol spiders go brr

ep 47: did i hear spiral? ITS THE NOT THING FROM THE EPISODE WITH NOT GRAHAM "it didnt move, it shifted" is like the exact same sentence as before. ay john's starting to remember. the laughing woah thats weird. is "michael" one of the entities? "you make it seem like theres a war" supports my theory that theres a struggle between a couple of the entities. I said i thought it was the eye and the dark i believe but im not sure. its whatever entity michael is vs the worms? what did nicholas say the worms were again? The Corruption? still dont know which one michael is tho.

Had to take a break after that episode. smth about the quality of michael's voice makes me feel like im gonna slip into one of those states where it feels like nothing is real, so i got a nice cold glass of water.

ep 48: jesus ok this one's kidna corny. you're telling me love made the crowd go away come on now. Ur losing it big J. also shouldnt it be more sus that "sasha" is so unaffected by the worm incident/ finding of gertrude's body

ep 49: haven't we heard hector's name before? oh is he the crime guy? fucking jared... so it's a throat? chompa chompa. (it's just a little bit hot) the good part about these episodes is that we know whoever's telling the story isn't gonna die. even if it's a close call, they're not dead. hotworth? ok not jared keay. it bothers me how theres so many repeated names, can they not come up with other names? "sasha"'s computer is breaking... sus. Elias our favorite weed man! jon ur so paranoid lmao

ep 50: robert smirk, at it again. this is like that one episode with the old dude who locked his door. who said idle beforehand? was it smirk? fingertips. thats so weird lmao. bahahah tim

ep 51: simon fairchild. im sure jon will mention the name at the end i cant remember where we've heard it. this is just like the cavediving episode. a hand? there was a hand in the last one right? the scalpel! and an eye thing. she's trying to throw them off.

ep 52: thats the guy from before! with the hearts! god i hate this guy writing the statement hh. lights blowing, and brackish water. we know how this ends but its still tense. rainer? reigner? rain man. we've seen him before

ep 53: pls not a leitner. oh boy mans scratched out his eyes. rip skelly. why would gertrude have had this statement off the books? jon stabbed himself?? bruh im? big man are you okay

ep 54: cockney boys! ayy its our favorite delivery men. she cut out their eyes. she knew that the eye was a thing?

ep 55: oily residue like the retirement home!

ep 56: worms? no. spiders?? bruhh. aaah yelling :(( aww martin anyways yeah i called it about paranoid!jon he needs to take a nap and drink some hot chocolate and calm down for once please

ep 57: just remembered, i think theres an entity called The Lonely?? This feels pretty lonely idk. fairchild, lukas/ lucas, some spooky place in norway idk. "sasha" knew he was recordinig hmm suspicious cmon jon figure it out. Sasha and tom. hm sus. for records sake i feel liek i should note here that I did have it spoiled to me simply that that's not sasha, but thats really all. i assumed it was like the thing that happened to graham in S1

ep 58: i feel like i recognize the name eustice (?) wick. someone please tell me im not just watching jon's descent into madness over the course of this podcast. im hoping it isnt so but, (and pardon the dsmp reference) im getting real wilbur vibes from this one.

ep 59: oh dear ok account from the fielding house. swirling designs? Spiral time? oh boyy. oh wait! 6 inch hole in the middle! is it not a spiderweb type design on the table? thats what i had assumed but that description sounds more like a spiral thing. cobwebs is a Web thing. ayy nicholas was right! the box goes in the table! the place that she kissed him was burning. Raymond is an avatar of The Web and agnes is the burning one. Lightless Flame! Why did she save him? i guess she was against this guy eating ppl or wtvr but why was she at the halfway house then? I think she's like michael.

ep 60: the eye go brr

ep 61: breacon and hope once again. tom. sasha's boyfriend. vampires sleep in coffins. the guy just walking in seems similar to the mind control of the vampires

ep 62: bones! its that one leitner. is this mother keay? the mom of gerard? this is what happened to her right? her skin was found on hooks? oh yeah thats what i thought the pages are made of skin. yeesh. The End!! sounds like an entity. phrased like one, and i think i remember it. are the people trapped in the pages? or... kept?

ep 63: eaten by the darkness! cavediving episode! (just like eaten by the sky) did my brain make up one called The Vast? it feels like it should be one, and all these episodes have some similar description about their feelings when they do whatever chosen hobby they have. ok now this one kinda feels like the dark. lights going out and all that. ok so not really a The Vast thing, its more of a Dark thing. feckin smirk gah.

ep 64: dice! the death guy! the death game thing! the person tricked somebody else into becoming death and then they were immortal? but if the egyptians wanted to kill him or punish him or whatever couldnt they just kill him? it worked in the end when he had the person giving the statement stab him, that did the job and actually killed him

ep 65: finally jon is actually acknowledging something is wrong.

So we know Mary Keay was revived most likely with the book by gerard.

Gertrude was way more aware of the entities than Jon. mary keay referenced The End openly and she cut the eyes out of her magazines and all that which makes me think she was aware of The Eye

ep 66: please not buried alive pleeaase not buried alive. lukas of the tundra? didnt we hear the name lukas before? she wanted it to be difficult to find important files because that way bad people couldnt find them?

ep 67: agnes... the girl in the hilltop house? agnes poppin off!! he's really not gonna question how she knew where he lived?? oh no D: the tree. were they the ones working on the house? aww they kissi- OH DEAR. why did she kiss him? it seemed like she cared about him? also she could kiss that other dude on the cheek and he was fine, but maybe it was cuz she was younger? lightless flame go brrrrr.

ep 68: oh god books. yup its bitchboy leitner. mans said "this seems supernatural, its a werd book!" bruuh.

ep 69: heh nice. aw cmon jon listen to martin. gahhh spiders. is that the class we heard about in the other doctor one with the teeth apple? some kind of psych class? oh dear. fucking spiders. aaaah. web do be goin brr. it's like the girl in the homeless shelter! who made the guy leave and she took his bed.

ep 70: is this gonna be the book that mary keay had? Most likely a leitner no matter what. Oh boy latin. Why did it start in latin then become old English? I'm guessing people put them in the book? He cant burn it. Phrophecies go brr. He says eh it's a decade in the future it's fine. Its gonna have changed. Ayy called it. Just accept it, it's a magic book. His death is getting closer. Leitner didnt make them but just collected them? Gertrude burned the book! She burned them down there so no one would know.

ep 71: oh boy tunnels. Our favorite thing /s. is The Buried a thing? Idk this seems pretty buried. Oh dear he's trapped here isnt he. "Not enough space to move, never enough to breathe" is that from the computer episode? With the guy who uploaded his consciousness? Somebody living down there. Hmmmm. Guesses: tom, sasha's boyfriend. Gertrude herself? (Though I doubt it)

ep 72: sweeney todd moment. Meat. The slaughter? Idk we'll see what the supernatural part is. Meat is meat. Similar to the slaughterhouse episode. Is it fucking Jared I swear to God it better not be. Hooligan teenagers, you know how it is. Meat is me lmao. Is the kid gonna be in the freezer. Ok that's good. OWW. Oddly textured candles. Made from people? Human fat or smth? Tom from the meat processing plant!

ep 73: outer bay shipping. Bet it's a subset of breacon and hope delivery. The Dark go brrr. Uh oh mans is gonna die. Leo or whatever. Cult ppl go brr. The people's church of the divine host. Who is the divine host? Is it reigner or whatever his name is? I dont think Jon can quit tbh. Probably an anonymous tip but from who?? One of the entities?

ep 74: fucking teeth hhh. I dont know which entity is related to teeth. Spiral. Isnt the spiral an entity. It feels like it could be related to many things idk. Yeah this sounds like the spiral. Heart attack at 29? Jesus... michael! That's kinda what I was thinking. Sasha goin in the tunnels. Hmm sus. They move the floor. Wack. Bet its tom.

ep 75: Man with a lightning scar. Has one of the leitner books. The childhood friend of the one who first introduced us to leitner. Oh my god that sounds terrifying. Michael crew.

ep 76: scalpel? Hmm spooky. NotSasha... think jon think.

ep 77: another double! NotThem, The Stranger. Not related to the table?

ep 78: what was that at the beginning? Question mark?? Oh boy more NotThem. Decker... what is the deal with the table. Does it contain the creature? Fucking Michael. Bitchboi himself.

ep 79: yes pop off martin. Ugh fucking Michael just leave man. I hate that dude. New person. Hmm. No idea who it is.

ep 80: shitener himself! Ok sir tell us the entities. Ayy The Spiral. Ok we know what that one is. The Eye is the beholding! Oooh. The Stranger. Did elias just kill leitner? Popping off honestly.

#Neptune tma notes

6 notes · View notes

et-lesailes · 4 years

Text

missing linc // chapter eight

series masterlist

pairing: ceo!dad!steve x reader

word count: 2620

chapter summary: a little backstory on tiana’s relationship with steve, and stella’s.

WARNINGS: implications of rape and violence, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable.

taglist: @viarogers , @evanstush , @chibi-crazy , @cevanswh0re , @songforhema, @sebabestianstan101 , @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @poerebel , @gogomez-509 , @patzammit, @a-distantdreamer, @jbug491writinghelp, @broklynbby, @lille-kattunge, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @firstangeldragonranch, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @honeyloverogers, @capsiclesdoll, @mcueveryday, @bangtan-serendipity, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyiamthatbitch, @captainscanadian, @kaithezaftig, @morganhoran1671, @booktease21, @hista-girl, @steeeeverogers, @okilover02, @sadella-adams, @rumoured-whispers, @aletteredaffair, @shannon124, @isawritesstories, @knuffeltuff, @wxntersoldiers, @kelbabyblue, @macgruberrr, @troublermalik, @societalfailure, @brastrangled, @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall, @anxiousstark, @captainsbxbygirl, @barbar126, @cevanswhores, @whimsicalatbest, @amazonian-strap-queen, @bookish-shristi, @hannie-stark, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @babyhua, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @whores4thor, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @danathewitchywoman, @rosee-sensuelle, @angelicdisgrace, @thoughtfulcollectormaker, @sammyslonglostshoe, @mizariomi, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @marvelouspottering, @denisemarieangelina, @mango--mango, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @lovehatekickscream, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie

notes: okay FINALLY back home from traveling and FINALLY updating. i know you guys miss steve/reader interactions, but seeing this is more of an actual story with several relations involved, there’s a lot to unpack here so i apologize. maybe i’ll make it up to ya in the next chapter ;) as usual please give me feedback, i’m interested to see how you feel about all the characters after this! this is also a taglist check-- if you are on this taglist and do not at LEAST give this post a like within the week, i will be removing you!

TIANA

They met in graduate school. Both in their early twenties, figuring out life, trying to balance the demanding expectations of their classes and the fun times with their friends.

They had been in the “honeymoon phase” since before they even started dating. Tiana remembered every single detail about the night they first met. A mutual friend’s party, she was wearing a brand new top she had just bought that day itself on a spontaneous shopping trip with her best friends paired with jeans that made her legs look amazing, as Steve would tell her later that night. It was practically a cliche movie moment; they locked eyes across the room and couldn’t stop staring. Steve approached her, his blue eyes bright, blond hair neatly trimmed, jawline chiseled, the sleeves of his nice shirt hugging his built biceps. If she wasn’t in love already, their conversation was even more appealing. They found a corner to themselves and talked about everything under the sun. The little things, such as the weird insect Steve found under a rock while he was camping when he was six and the best piece of pizza Tiana had ever eaten in her life in New York City just last week. The big things, too. Steve reflecting on his mother’s death when he was young, and Tiana discussing her experiences with bulimia when she was a mere middle schooler.

She had never felt so comfortable with someone in her life. It didn’t take long for them to start dating. They had received plenty of criticism from all their friend groups. “You’re jumping into this too fast.” “It won’t last if you rush things.” “Don’t you want to get to know each other better first before putting a label on this?”

She knew every part of him. And he, her. He was truly her other half. And she, his.

He was a big romantic. On her twenty-fifth birthday, he surprised her by using money he had saved up to rent out the small diner her parents would take her and her sister out to dinner every Sunday night-- for a small and intimate party for her and their friends. One particular Christmas when she expressed being a little sad they did not yet have a proper home to decorate in pretty lights, he strung up lights around the inside of the entire apartment while she was at work, even putting up an inflatable snowman in their bedroom. She could still remember coming home that day, tired and weary, only to be met with absolute joy and brightness. The snowman looked so adorably ridiculous inside their tiny bedroom, she had burst out laughing and couldn’t stop for the next five minutes.

She could remember all of this vividly. It was when things all went wrong that it was a bit of a blur.

Steve studied hard. He worked hard. He found the time for her, it was never time management that had been a problem. He worked his way up in his company until he decided he wanted to start his own. It was a huge investment, but he had been saving. He refused to accept financial help from her-- not that she was in any better position. She had a great job as a data security analyst, but she was nowhere near as senior as Steve already was. She was getting there, but he was older, and he had put in more time to his business degree and certifications. This was something he had wanted since he was young.

And so he followed his dreams. He started a company, and it was incredibly small at first. Still, she was proud of him. More proud than she had ever been of anyone in her life. Watching him have so much ambition and drive only motivated her to do better. And so she did; she worked hard, making her way up her own company, doing whatever she could to be a girlfriend Steve could continue being proud of.

Perhaps it was this pressure that made their relationship implode.

He had never given this pressure to her. She could acknowledge this. He never acted in a way that made her feel inferior, in a way where he thought he was better for being a big CEO. She supposed she was the one who put the pressure on herself, who continued to feel more and more insecure as she watched her boyfriend, eventually fiance, eventually husband’s company grow and grow, his responsibilities becoming bigger and bigger. They had less time together, but when they did have time, he made up for it. He was always good about that. He always made it a point to communicate with her, to tell her in advance when he was busy, and to always ask and be genuinely curious about her day and how she was doing.

He was the perfect partner. And she felt like she was not.

She started to lash out more. Perhaps subconsciously pushing him away so that she did not have to face her insecurities so directly while standing next to him. She became more irritable, she spent more time with her own friends and prioritized them over him. He was confused, sad, upset-- it was all an ugly, convoluted mess. She hated herself more and more each time she broke his heart, but she continued to do it. His sadness began to turn into anger. “What did I do to you, Tiana? What did I do that was so wrong?” he would yell, his eyes even wet with tears from his frustration. “Why are you acting like this?” She didn’t know why she couldn’t tell him. She used to be able to tell him anything, and now she felt so small and insignificant next to him. She felt like she wasn’t doing enough. The more oblivious he was to this matter, the less he could help her or reassure her that this was not the case. It was not his fault. It was hers.

She knew that.

They decided to spend some time apart. Not an official break up, but a break, as much as she hated that term. They needed it. She needed to be alone, to work through her insecurities and crippling low self-esteem. He simply needed to be away from the confusing trainwreck that she was. They did not completely cut off communication; they checked in with each other at least once or twice a week, and that eventually turned into occasionally grabbing coffee or lunch together. It was like the process of dating all over again, and it was actually refreshing. She did not feel the pressure that came with living in the same home with him, watching all of his work endeavors and feeling shitty with her own. They could take it nice and slow, and she was enjoying it.

She thought he was, too.

Four months into their odd, friendship-slash-dating relationship, Steve called her one night, close to midnight. He sounded somber. Tired. Guilty. Ashamed. Scared, even. “We need to talk. In person. Can I come over?” She remembered her heart racing fast. The worst scenarios popped into her mind, one-by-one. Had he decided he no longer wanted anything to do with her? Had she messed up somehow, and didn’t even know it? Was he okay-- had he been diagnosed with some type of life-threatening disease, had he been in an accident? Was his family okay-- was there a death, did he need to travel home? Every single possible situation played out in her mind, anxiety racking her brain.

Never had she imagined that Steve would come to her home to tell her that he had gotten another woman pregnant.

Never had she imagined that this woman was her own, twenty-two-year-old sister.

STELLA

Stella had always felt like the black sheep of the family.

She was the late addition suffering from the terrible cliche of having a perfect, older sister while she herself was the mischievous troublemaker, always up to no good. There was a thirteen year age difference between herself and Tiana, and because of this, it was difficult for the two to ever get close. The more she watched Tiana excel in academics, extracurriculars, and relationships, the less motivated she became. She figured being the less successful sibling without actually trying to do better was easier-- if she did actually try and fail, how would she ever feel any better about herself?

She barely managed to make it through high school, and the only reason she did was because her parents forced her to. She certainly was not going to college. She picked up different jobs and eventually moved out of her family’s house, tired of her parents’ lectures and nagging. The shitty little apartment she resided in with two random roommates in the most dangerous part of the city felt far more like home than her birth home ever did.

She had her looks going for her. She was the complete opposite of her sister, who while also pretty, took more after their father. Stella was her mother’s daughter; the classic supermodel body, blonde locks with natural waves, amber eyes, heart shaped face. She used this to her advantage. Her income consisted not only of her job as a bartender, but of being a sugar baby to random older men in the city. She refused to have sex with them. They were alright with this. They just wanted her company.

People could get desperate when they were lonely enough. Her string of one-night-stands proved she knew this.

She began modeling for an amateur photographer. Shoots in cute sweaters, leggings, and boots in the New York autumns turned into risque poses in strappy bikinis and high heels in the summer. It wasn’t long before the top came off, soft hands and long fingers shielding her breasts as she looked blankly into the camera.

The photographer wanted her to reveal even more. She declined.

He did not take that so well, despite being her own boyfriend.

She was twenty-two, bruised and black eyed as she stumbled out of his ratty apartment, legs sore and aching with tears running down her cheeks-- only to make her sob even more from the pain that came with the mere action of crying. She had gotten herself into a lot of sticky situations in the concrete jungle, but she was finally starting to feel fear.

She wasn’t sure why Steve Rogers was the first person who came to mind. Steve, her older sister’s golden boy, whom she had only met a few times at family dinners she actually bothered to show up to only when she needed free food. Perhaps because he was actually nice to her. Sure, maybe he was only being polite because he needed to impress his girlfriend’s parents. But sometimes, it seemed like he actually cared when he asked her how bartending was going and if she was safe and secure staying in the city. He did not seem judgmental in the slightest that she had passed on attending college, despite being a total scholar and businessman himself. He had even told her she was welcome to his and Tiana’s apartment any time, if she ever needed a place to crash; she remembered the dirty look Tiana had given him the second he had made this offer.

When was the last time she had even seen him? It had been a while.

She slowly took out her phone and pulled up his number. She only had it because Tiana had texted her from it one time when her phone was dead, telling her she better be at Thanksgiving dinner in order to not disappoint their grandparents who knew absolutely nothing about her mess of a situation.

When he told her that he and Tiana were separated, she was shocked. She would have never seen it coming. She remembered the way they’d look at each other, how they’d laugh over the dumbest things, how she had never seen her sister look so happy in the entire time she knew her.

He still wanted to help her, though. How could he not? She had been a sobbing mess on the phone as she recounted everything she had just gone through, all while wondering why she was suddenly being so trusting with a man she hardly knew. Perhaps because he was the only man in her life that actually seemed dependable.

She arrived to his apartment and he was shocked upon seeing her face. He wanted to call her parents, but she practically screamed at him not to. Begged. She couldn’t handle that, she could barely even handle being so vulnerable with him. He was reluctant but obliged, though insisted she stay with him in case her now ex-boyfriend tried to hunt her down and hurt her even more. She agreed, but was instantly on edge again once he told her he wanted to tell Tiana. “No. No, Steve, please, you can’t. She’ll drag me to my parents’ house, she’ll lecture me, she’s just-- she’s going to be a total bitch. I’ll stay here only for a few days tops then figure something out on my own. Please.”

Again, he reluctantly obliged.

She did not only stay for a few days. She found herself opening up to him more and more, she actually enjoyed spending time with him.

Strangely enough, she never developed feelings for him, nor he for her. It was a strong friendship, a strong bond, a good connection-- but all purely platonic. Perhaps it was her subconscious, reminding her that this man was involved with her sister. She knew they were still seeing each other from time to time, though it was nothing committal or exclusive. He had explained to her what had gone wrong between them, and she listened. Even offered him advice, based on the limited knowledge she had about her own sister’s personality and interests.

He kept pleading for her to let him tell Tiana that she was staying there, and she kept begging him not to. He was beginning to feel more guilty. Stella might as well have been living with him at that point.

“I’ll move back to my parents’.” She finally said one day, and he looked at her in surprise. “What? You hated living there. Besides, once you move back they’d never let you leave that place again. Especially if they find out everything that’s happened to you.”

“I’ll figure it out. You shouldn’t have to keep lying to my sister.”

And so it was decided. She would return home the next day, and Steve could live with at least a little less of a guilty conscience.

Or so they had thought. Their last night together turned from a simple pizza and movie night with beer to going out and hitting the bars, celebrating her last night in the heart of the city before she would have to return to her parents’ home outside of it. After several drinks and a fun night of dancing, the two came back to Steve’s apartment.

The rest was history.

They did not speak to each other even once after that night-- at least, not until the day she found out she was pregnant with Steve Rogers’ child. From there, she, Steve, and Tiana would be tangled up in one messy situation for the next nine months, until she could finally have the little blond, blue-eyed child and be free from her family thanks to Steve’s money supporting her in the city while he and Tiana moved and took the baby with them.

She had never wanted it, anyways. There was no way someone like her could be a mother.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers au #steve rogers x you

312 notes · View notes

meganshinsou-tm · 5 years

Text

golden. (f)

☙ pairing: hawks x reader

☙ theme: soulmate au

☙ cw/tw: profanity, comedy, fluff, soulmate mark, tickling

☙ a/n-request: Could I request a Hawks soulmate au? The s/o works at a convenient/grocery store and one night Hakws come in and s/o has had a terrible night and snaps at Hawks and thats when they find out their soulmates. Maybe like having a mark on their skin or the first words that their soulmate will say to them on their skin. Thanks!

“$8.50 is your total.”

The customer before you smirked and pulled out his wallet, handing you a $10 bill. As you bagged his drink and snacks then got his change, the man titled his head. Not looking at him you could feel his eyes watching you as if he expected you to look up and ask him something. Once you were done you, handed him his bag and change, your eyes finally meeting his face with a tired expression.

“You know I bet you’d be even prettier if you smiled more!”

You made an un-amused face at the customer, eyes rolling at his back-handed compliment. “You know I bet I’d smile more if you weren’t in my store!”

You retorted with an over exaggerated fake smile.

The man scoffed and mumbled an incoherent response as he stormed out. Once he was gone you slumped over the counter, placing your face in your hands with a groan. So far the night had been terrible, nothing but annoying men came in and out, trying to flirt and failing miserably. Some tried to make genuine small talk but you just weren’t having it. Your college courses over the week had you drained and not to mention mother nature was in town and had you even more exhausted. All you wanted to do was go home and cuddle up on the couch for days with junk food and tv. But no, you had to work a shitty second job at a convenient store just to make ends meet for now.

It was nearing 11 o’clock at night, it was a weeknight so business was thankfully dying down. You stayed leaned over the counter, one arm outstretched and propping up on the other, watching life outside slowly going on. Sighing, you stood and hopped over the counter and walked the candy aisle, picking out one of the bigger bags of Sour Skittles before proceeding to the ICEE machine and making a huge blue raspberry treat.

As you slurped it down and walked back behind the counter the bell of the door rang, your eyes looked over to see a customer trotting inside with an obnoxious grin. He was a few inches taller than you, with wild ash blonde hair and extremely wacky eyebrows. But his odd eyebrows weren’t the only strange thing about him, no, it was the massive set of bright red wings that sprouted from his back. He was dressed in a dark jacket and light t-shirt with fitted jeans and sneakers. He had to be around the same age as you just from the looks of him.

He looked at you and waved with a smile then made his way around the store. You watched him closely, still slurping down the blue cold drink. Leaning back over the counter you opened the skittles. The guy looked familiar and you felt like you’ve seen him somewhere but couldn’t figure it out. He seemed way too happy and energetic for 11 at night, bouncing along the aisles and whistling. Rolling your eyes you sighed and popped a few skittles onto your tongue and stirred the ICEE around with its straw, stealing glances at the customer every now and then.

He was taking an unusually long time, browsing all the candy and chips, examining all the drinks in the coolers. His mannerisms started to become slightly humorous. As he strolled around he’d cup his chin and hum while quirking a brow as if he were in deep thought, his hands picking up snacks to inspect them closely. He grabbed a bag of chips and opened it, casually eating them. You huffed out a short laugh and quickly looked away when he turned to look at you, popping another skittle in your mouth. The stranger smirked and continued his tour.

Your eyes looked at him again, causing your lip to curl. He was kind of cute, like a little chicken clucking around a pen. A giggle escaped as you imagined him making chicken wings with his arms, bending at the knees and pecking at the items on the shelves. He didn’t look at you but he smiled overhearing your giggle. Suddenly the guy stopped dead in his tracks once he found the pre-made single meals. His caramel brown eyes gleaming at the different chicken options. He would reach for one before drawing back, shaking his head in shame as he mouthed “no, no, no.” He couldn’t decide on one and was having a legit crisis.

“He’s a cannibal,” you screamed internally, dying slowly from the giggles that were building up and covering your mouth to keep them from spewing.

It was no help though, he could hear your suffering. Smirking, his wings lifted and spread out, your eyes widening at the display. One of the feathers flew from them and towards you, you squealed and ducked down onto the floor, eyes screwing shut, this was the day you’d die.

“I knew it, this shitty store will be the death of me. I’m getting taken out by a chicken feather!”

As you sat there for a few seconds, nothing happened. Slowly you peaked open an eye and saw the red feather floating before you, you quirked an eyebrow at it and remained quiet as it floated closer. Swallowing harshly you leaned back against the counter shelves until there was nowhere left to go, stretching your neck to the side and looking away from the weird feather.

You grunted as the feather started to literally tickle your neck. A smile slipping and teeth biting on your lip, trying not to make a peep. Soon more feathers made their way over and behind the counter, floating before you.

“Oh no,” you groaned.

All the feathers instantly went in for the attack and started to tickle all over your body, neck, chin, arms and sides. You squirmed under their soft torturous tips, giggles and full laughs slowly overflowing from your lips. It was so bad that tears were starting to prick at the corners of your eyes and you pleaded for it to stop. Suddenly, the winged man poked his head over the counter with a smile and chuckled at your distress.

“I could just tell you were dying to laugh over here, so I thought I’d help out,” he finally spoke with a prideful grin.

“C-curse you, you chicken nugget! Call them off, please,” you begged between laughs and snorts.

“You snort like a piglet,” the man snapped his fingers and pointed at you, “I’ll call you ‘Bacon’ since we’re going off of food-based names!”

You laughed even harder at his ridiculous comment, still squirming and digging your chin into your shoulder to try and shield the ticklish skin. “Oh my god I don’t care, just please make them stop!”

The man smiled and you pouted back, shutting your eyes again as one feather tickled your rib-cage. Suddenly it all stopped, your eyes opened and the feathers were gone as if they were never even there. You sighed and fell back against the counter again, panting and trying to catch your breath. The still grinning man reached out a hand to help you up, groaning, you took it.

Once your skin connected with each other you felt a sudden searing burn around your wrist, he must’ve felt something too because you both let go at the same time and hissed.

You held your wrist up and looked at it in disbelief as a thin gold ring was now etched around it, quickly you turned to look at the man still leaning over the counter. He was inspecting his wrist as well, still smiling but his smile was even bigger and more obnoxious. His soft and excited eyes looked at you and he pointed at his wrist with the same golden ring, with a comical expression. As badly as you wanted to not laugh you couldn’t help it. He was so dorky but so … cute.

You let your head fall back against the hard shelves and dragged your hands down your face, “Oh my god why!”

“Aww, come on Bacon, from now on you’re stuck with the #2 hero, it can’t be that bad!”

Your eyes widened at his remark.

“That’s who you are! Hawks!”

Of all people, fate decided to pair you with Japan’s cockiest and most obnoxious hero. Of course it would, you were cocky and obnoxious yourself, what better combination than that! You started to remember all the news stories and social media posts of your now soulmate. From what you recall he is a legit good hero and has the second spot for a reason. Your eyes looked up at him, lips pursing. He was cute, and he did happen to make you laugh, even if it was by force.

There was no use in trying to stop the small on your face as his caramel brown eyes softened, it was a sign that he was going to be trouble with that face but you would be just as much trouble, if not more.

Hawks reached out his hand again, without hesitation this time you took it and he helped you stand to your feet. With a huff, you smirked and thanked him for the help. The hero reached out and brushed back a strand of your hair, you didn’t flinch or become bothered by it as he pinched your rosy cheek softly, already more than comfortable with invading your space. You weren’t exactly complainiing.

“So, do I get your name or shall I keep calling you Bacon?”

“Oh uh - it’s (Y/N).”

Hawks made a face and clicked his tongue, head shaking.

“Nah, I’ll stick with Bacon. Now - ,” he continued and motioned his hands at the food he placed on the counter, “since we’re going to be lovers, I get this stuff for free right?”

You scoffed and smiled. “Sorry Chicken Nugget, you still have to pay just like everyone else!”

Hawks groaned and took out his wallet shaking his head, “First day together and you’re already taking my money!”

#hawks #hawks x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fluff #requests #answered request #soulmate au #mha x reader #bnha x reader

566 notes · View notes

vagrantblvrd · 4 years

Note

jeremavinwood supervillains?

Oh, friend, I know I should aim for the Totally Serious take on your prompt?

And yet. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So.

Let’s say in this AU superheroes and of course supervillains are A Thing.

Everyone knows about them and there are fans of both and it’s not a big deal to anyone there.

Ryan’s this computer/tech-type guy looking for a job and he just so happens across this job opening online, right? One of those job listing sites and it’s just odd/quirky enough to stand out from the rest of the listings he’s browsing through one day.

Has more character to it, and also job perks/benefits. The only thing it he’d have to move cities for it, but he’s not all that attached to the one he’s living in at the time and decides sure, why the hell not, you know?

So Ryan applies for the job and doesn’t think too much about it. One of those ones where it would be nice to get, but not something he’s banking on or has any real investment in, and in the meantime he gets all these interviews and the like for the others openings he applied for.

Nothing that sounds promising once he gets the chance to talk to hiring manager/whoever, and he’s getting - not worried, exactly, because he’s got enough in the bank and various investment things he can afford to turn them down when they offer him work.

And then, just when he’d forgotten about the weird job listing he gets an email.

Again, kind of weird? All Dramatic and the whatnot, but he figures maybe this guy is just Eccentric or whatever and is just interesting enough Ryan takes the job. (This feeling in the back of his head that the guy’s got to be part of the supers world, which is a first for Ryan, but whatever. He was getting bored of the usual thing anyway, so yeah.)

Takes him a few weeks to deal with everything where he’s living at the time and get out to the new job.

Thank goodness it comes with a place for him to stay until he can find something more suited to him if he likes and so on, right?

Only thing is, by the time he gets to the city the guy who hired him is nowhere to be found.

Ryan gets to the address he was given, which isn’t much to look at from the outside. Looks like an old warehouse the guy bought, maybe big aspirations and such hoping to turn it into the home of the business he started that he told Ryan he needed a computer/tech guy to help get off the ground.

Still, the code Ryan was sent works for the keypad on the front door and when he gets inside the place is still pretty unimpressive?

Ryan walks around and makes a face because it’s kind of a dump. All this trash and debris and bits and bobs that add up to a mistake on Ryan’s part, but then he bumbles into some activation device/panel that activates the AI that’s been keeping an eye on the place.

Because, wouldn’t you know it?

The guy who put out that job listing Ryan that caught Ryan’s eye is, indeed, part of the whole supers world.

A supervillain, as it may be, and Ryan is just ??? and then !!! as he realizes this, the AI spinning up from the dormant state it’s been in since its creator went and got got by the local police.

Which is something Ryan finds out when he asks the AI where his supposed employer is, because this is super weird and all?

Turns out he got pulled over thanks to a dumb traffic violation, which turned into an Altercation the local superheroes got called in on and now the guy’s kist really, really dead.

Headlight out and cop pulling him over to tell him to get it fixed and he’d let it slide this time, but the supervillain is on the high-strung side of things and flipped the fuck out resulting in the city’s superheroes stepping in to help bring him in and all because massive property damage and so on and all because he couldn’t keep his cool when faced with a traffic stop.

(Which explains what all the street detours and cleanup that made traffic into the city a nightmare Ryan didn’t think too much about since there’s always a mess with all the supers around. Not like he knew his new employer was involved in it or anything.)

Anyway, the AI has been given all the information on Ryan - loads more than what Ryan put on his application or told the guy over the phone and in video calls, but uh, the whole supervillain thing kind of explains all that away.

Turns out Ryan’s been given clearance to get into the bunker under the warehouse which is where the supervillain was doing all his Plotting and Scheming.

Not a major name yet, but he around long enough to have the kind of money to put into a Proper Supervillain Lair. (Including the Mad Scientist Lab and while it hasn’t been fully installed just yet there’s an area for a shark tank, so that’s cool.)

Ryan is kind of weirded out as he gets a glimpse of these half-finished Schemes and Plots all over the place (improving on them in his head before he catches himself and moves on to explore the rest of the Lair) and is like hmm, okay then, because what else is he gonna do

AND THEN.

Once he’s looked around the whole place - or the areas he’s cleared to go - the AI directs him to a living area and the suite that was meant to be his before he found a place of his own.

It’s late and also been a hell of a day - hours spent traveling and then discovering he inadvertently became a henchman and all that and hey, the bed actually looks pretty comfy?

So he goes to sleep and figures he can decide where to go from here in the morning, right?

Do the right thing and call the authorities to come and check the place out and go back to looking for a normal job. (Assuming the local authorities don’t think he was in on the supervillain’s whole deal the entire time and throw him in jail.)

The next morning he makes a call to the local police and realizes pretty damn fast they’re what you might call overzealous? Rabid, maybe, the way they immediately think he’s making a threat as opposed to informing them of this potentially Very Dangerous supervillain Lair and asking them to deal with it so he can get back to his uneventful life?

He hangs up the moment he realizes they think he’s Totally Evil and Must Be Stopped and is just ??? because what now?

And, you know, the AI is just, “Well...” and then one of the screens in the command center Ryan was making his phone call in lights up and all these protocols and contingent plans pop up as to how to secure the warehouse and bunker it’s built over in case of discovery and such.

Ryan stares at all of it for a moment because talk about your over the top supervillain bullshit? But there are some reasonable ideas in there he can tweak and all that and anyway, not like he’s got much planned for himself as is, so...

Okay, right.

Maybe he makes an attempt to get in touch with the city’s superheroes first to hand the Lair and all that over (or tip them off, whatever), but he gets pretty much the same response the cops had, so he decides to go with fortifying the Lair’s defenses and suchlike.

And then ~*MONTAGE*~ in which Ryan ends up pretty much renovating the place from the top down.

Tearing out walls and such and old t-shirt and sweats and rewiring and halfway through he realizes he doesn’t know as much about that shit as he thinks he does so he calls in an electrician?

Which.

Yeah, he knows, but apparently the supervillain had a whole list of - at the very least - neutral parties - in the whole construction and such business . (Who else would build the superhero bases/supervillain Lairs for the supers who weren’t big enough to afford their own people and couldn’t do it themselves? Really.)

Anyway, that brings Michael into the picture who looks around at the Lair and what Ryan’s manages to do in the time he’s been there and is just.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me take care of this,” and so Ryan has a surly/cranky electrician rewiring the whole Lair and such while he deals with other matters.

And that’s, like.

Distracting because the aforementioned ~*MONTAGE*~ with the old t-shirts and sweats and it gets pretty hot in the Lair (that’s a thing Ryan needs to call in more experts for later, because yeah) and some days he’ll check on how Michael’s doing and he’ll do the thing where he wipes sweat off his forehead with his arm and Ryan is suddenly in a romcom and anyway.

Distracting.

So off he goes to deal with the computer/tech guy shit while Michael grumbles and growls. (Ryan will be back later for lunch, because Michael needs to eat too and he knows the good takeout places in the city and if they sit and chat and suchlike it’s not a big deal or anything, you know?

Really.

Anyway.

They’re working on getting the place up and fully functional before any cops or superheroes bust in, but it’s a lot of work, you know?

And in the meantime life goes on and one night the AI (that Ryan has taken to calling E.D.G.A.R. because some totally Ryan reasons about it kind of sort of being in a hole, what with its core being located in the Lair which is indeed underground and all that and also an acronym I don’t have the brainpower to go into at the moment but it definitely totally lame and/or nerdy) alerts him there’s an intruder.

Ryan is ??? because who the hell - and then !!! because what if it’s the authorities???

But no, no.

Ryan goes to the command center and watches the security feeds to realize there’s a goddamn thief slipping through the Lair’s corridors.

Michael’s there watching too because either E.D.G.A.R. called him down there after realizing he’s Important to Michael (has been given all the clearances and such that Ryan can give him while he works on cracking the ones the supervillain who hired him still has up so he can gain full access of the Lair and its amenities) and so on.

Anyway, the two of them watch this little thief get past several security measures before E.D.G.A.R. finally manages to pin him down in a room. All these lasers and other deadly traps and only an idiot would try their luck.

So of course there’s this moment where it looks like the thief is giving serious thought to doing just that before he obviously decides better. Huffs and pouts and looks directly at the hidden cameras watching him to scowl at Ryan and Michael who share a look because what the fuck, right?

They go to the room the thief is caught in - E.D.G.A.R. disengaging traps as they go, just enough to keep the thief pinned but not put them in danger - and the little bastard is annoyed.

British accent and clearly not from around here (or not that long, at any rate) and what the hell does he think he’s doing?

To which Gavin is like, what the hell do they think they’re doing, hmm? Last he heard the supervillain that had hired Ryan had set this place up, and when he went and got got the payment Gavin had been promised for a little job for him fell through and Gavin, okay.

Figured the bastard wouldn’t mind that much (couldn’t do anything about) Gavin coming in here and picking up a few things he could sell off to someone else to make up for the money he never got paid for services rendered.

But, oh, look.

Someone just happened to come along and set up shop in the abandoned Lair like it was finder’s keepers and mind letting Gavin go now?

Ryan’s kind of ??? because hell if he knows what to do, right? Doesn’t really want to keep Gavin locked up here even if it might be a smart thing to do (no telling if he’d go running off to the authorities the moment they let him out and all) even if there are cells on a lower level.

Michael looks a little like he’d like to pretend he never saw Gavin, leave him pinned in here and go back to sleep and fuck if it’s any of his business what happens to him, but Ryan knows better.

And anyway, anyway, Ryan’s not actually a supervillain or a loyal henchman or whatever. He’s just some poor bastard who applied for the wrong job and got in waaaaaay over his head.

So.

He tells E.D.G.A.R. to disengage the lasers and traps keeping Gavin in place and points towards the Mad Scientist/gadget lab Gavin was clearly headed towards. Tells him to take what he wants, but if any of it gets used against him or Michael or the authorities come sniffing around he’ll regret it, you know?

And then he heads off presumably to go back to sleep. (Really he goes back to the command center to see what Gavin will do now, but shhh.)

Michael grumbles at Gavin, but when it comes down to it it’s not like he has any say here, so he actually goes back to bed.

Gavin dithers for a moment sure it’s a trap? But when nothing happens for a bit he shrugs and goes to root around the Mad Scientist/gadget lab for stuff he can sell.

E.D.G.A.R. keeps an eye on him, but Gavin’s not about to test his luck and gets what he came for and leaves as quickly as he can.

But then, okay, but then.

He gets curious, he does.

Sells off the gadgets and whatevers he stole and does some poking around.

Already knew about Michael being one of those neutral parties people in this city are always hiring when their superhero base/supervillain Lair needs repairs or what have you, but Ryan?

Nothing about him being involved with any supers or even any criminal business ever.

Does some more digging and eventually finds a profile for Ryan on one of those job sites out there and kind of dies laughing when that leads him to the job listing that caught Ryan’s eye way back when from the supervillain.

And then, okay.

He’s just all-over curious about Ryan - definitely could have killed Gavin or locked him up or whatever and didn’t. And then there’s Michael, surly bastard that he is, but not too hard on the eyes and anyway, anyway.

He goes and breaks back in to the bunker/Lair.

This time E.D.G.A.R.’s not quite prepared for him, because Gavin’s good at what he does, but he’s not completely blindsided.

Asks Gavin what he’s doing as Gavin bypasses security measures and crawls through vents and whatever else to get to the Lair proper. They have a pleasant little chat and by the time Gavin gets to the command center Ryan’s there with a bemused expression because it’s the middle of the night and what even is going on right now?

Michael’s over at a console grumbling about something because insomnia and some new tangle of a problem and might as well deal with it now, right?

Ryan’s likewise trying to crack another firewall or other doohickey keeping him from gaining complete access to the Lair and such and seriously, Gavin, what the hell.

To which Gavin is just, “Have you tried *insert cool hacker stuff here*?”

Ryan is “What?”

Michael’s swearing stops and his head pops up and even E.D.G.A.R. is Quiet because ???

Gavin rolls his eyes and huffs and pushes Ryan aside to do some hacker stuff on the console he’s working at for what he mentioned to work. Cheerful little chime and more of the Lair/E.D.G.A.R.’s abilities and the whatnot unlocking for Ryan.

And then Gavin’s like oooh, because there’s a lot of fascinating stuff there and before long he, too, joins Ryan’s little motley crew of who even knows anymore.

Which is just aggravating because Gavin is an absolute troll and a terrible human being and Ryan Suffers when he and Michael team up against him, he truly does.

Just like.

Gavin’s relentless Questions and his Bad Science just to fuck with Ryan and that goddamned little chuckle/chortle of his when he’s being a little shit.

(Also, also, the way he gets Michael so freaking riled up and laughs like it’s the best damn thing, okay.)

ANYWAY.

Yeah.

So now the three of them are just living their weird little lives getting the bunker/Lair up to snuff when some guy rings the warehouse buzzer one day.

Short guy, horrible fashion sense.

None of them have any damn idea what he’s doing there? But when Ryan goes to talk to him they find out he’s there in response to a job listing for security.

Someone to patrol the warehouse and not ask too many questions about anything odd he might hear or see or whatever. (Not in so many words, but read between the lines and all and it’s the same damn thing.)

Anyhow, Jeremy’s like.

“Oh, that sucks,” when Ryan tells him the guy who was supposed to hire them both was not only an actual supervillain but also super, super dead, and sorry, but not looking good for the job Jeremy was expecting to find.

Ryan feels bad about it, given he’s more or less claimed the bunker/Lair for himself (and the other two idiots), but -

E.D.G.A.R. who’s patched into the comms and the earpiece Ryan’s got in suggests it might not be a terrible idea to have someone keeping an eye out for any trouble coming there way.

Like.

E.D.G.A.R. is monitoring things for them, but never hurts to have an extra pair of eyes, you know?

And hey, Ryan was in Jeremy’s shoes not too long ago himself, so of course he agrees, and then Jeremy joins them in their weird little lives.

At that point Michael’s more or less done with the major work to get the bunker/Lair running, fusses with stuff because he doesn’t want to leave. (Got too attached to these idiots and all.)

Gavin’s goes off Thieving every so often, but he tends to come back to the bunker/Lair to help Ryan out or pester Michael and he’s not worried about being ~betrayed for whatever reason.

Jeremy’s just like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and has no problem with patrolling the warehouse in the day and then going down to the bunker/Lair to fuck about in the Mad Scientist/gadget lab with Gavin who’s had another one of this Brilliant Ideas.

Or maybe hanging out with Michael as he fusses/tinkers with some project or other and bitch about whatever, possibly with a beer or one of the strays he sneaks in. (There are so many at this point. Cats and kittens and a puppy or two, and Gavin is totally an enabler and Ryan is just SIGH because he’s not an actual monster, dear God.)

Sometimes he bounces Evil Plans back and forth with Ryan as Ryan works on gaining full access to the bunker/Lair - roughly 90% there - that are really just horrible ideas the like you come up with your idiot friends you know will never happen/work but are fun to play around with.

And all through this these idiots are developing the FEELS for one another, but it’s like, “Oh, they could never like someone like me,” or “They’re totally head over heels for that other person, everyone can see it but them,” not realizing they’re all the kind of idiots who are in love with each other and oh God, the romcom shenanigans that come out of.

Absent-minded flirting that gets awkward when one of the others walks in. Fond smiles and indulging one another and all that goodness. Accidentally bumping into one another in passing.

And, okay, sparring.

Michael’s kind of a brawler, so he does okay.

Gavin’s usually too fast/clever to get caught, but even he’s got some moves packed away in that head of his. (Meg insisted, because Gavin’s one of her idiots.)

Jeremy’s got some martial arts training, boxing, handful of other shit under his belt.

Ryan...fuck.

He’s like.

Joe Average or whatever.

Except he knows how to throw knives, what the fuck? (And other little surprises here and there, because Ryan.)

Still.

Jeremy and Michael become Concerned about the other two idiots, which leads to these little training/sparring sessions.

People getting thrown and pinned and all kinds of close quarters contact and flirting and innuendo and it’s just A Lot, okay?

The good kind.

Gavin pestering Ryan for knife-throwing lessons while Michael and Jeremy heckle them like assholes, and just.

Yesssss.

And then!

Shit goes wrong, in that the superheroes of the city and the authorities (who aren’t all as Noble or Upstanding as they pretend to be) manage to catch Gavin when he’s away from the bunker/Lair which sets off this whole chain of events that results in a Dramatic Battle.

Because thief!Gavin is a known presence in the city, has a record and the superheroes/authorities take advantage of that fact. Lean on the whole bit where Gavin’s got these trust issues relating to past “partners” and employers that fucked him over and how does he know this Ryan and the others won’t do the same too?

(Obviously they wouldn’t, and Gavin knows it, but these assholes don’t and they’re kind of ruthless about it.)

Meanwhile the others are going a little bit crazy trying to find Gavin once they realize what happened.

Ryan finally breaks through that last bit of bullshit keeping him from gaining full access to the bunker/Lair and E.D.G.A.R.’s full range of abilities he can command and then it is on.

Full-on fight raging through the city (carefully though, because property damage and potential casualties and what I’m saying is Ryan and the others do what they can to keep it all to uninhabited areas/lead out of the city and the whatnot.

Whole thing with the Drama and Action and attempted Heroic Sacrifice the others shoot down real fucking fast because what the fuck you moron?

And then the superheros/authorities having to beat a retreat when it becomes clear they just might out themselves as complete bastards if they keep pressing.

Ryan and the others go to ground at the bunker/Lair - which, by the by, the superheroes/authorities still don’t know the location of, and just.

Put the pieces back together.

Realize if the superheroes/authorities seem to think they’re the the bad guys then guess they’ve got no other option than to become the bad guys. (Honestly, the longer Ryan stayed in the city and saw how things were, the more that seemed like the only way to go, you know?)

And that means they’ll need someone to help keep the bunker/Lair up and running and Michael mentions some people he knows that could help with some of the stuff they unearthed when Ryan got full access. (This asshole of an engineer among them, even if he’s a bit overqualified for some of this.)

Gavin has his own contacts, and Meg’s got a major network of her own she’d be willing to use to help them out.

Jeremy knows some people too, and anyway, where else would he go?

Ryan?

Fuck, who even knows, is the thing.

E.D.G.A.R. is on his side, and that’s not a little terrifying after realizing how vast his reach is.

Global satellites and orbital strikes spring to mind, because those are actually a thing he has access to and the supervillain behind all this could have been a truly terrifying figure if he hadn’t gone and gotten himself killed before he could set things in motion. (Also? Robot armies, although there’s really just that one prototype down in that secret lab, but still.)

Some shenanigans and kerfuffles with the superheroes/authorities from time to time and the slow - painfully so at times - realization that they all totally have FEELINGS for one another, and then, like.

More romcom situations before any of them act on it, by which point the entire city knows they’ve got FEELINGS for one another and there are fan pages and groups and whatever else about it because of course there are.

And also, at some other point in come Geoff and Jack, part of a federal agency created to deal with the whole supers nonsense and pretty much Tired who realize Ryan and the others aren’t Totally Evil and idk, but!

At some point Geoff gets ~captured by Ryan and them and is just Very Tired as they try to figure out what the hell do do with him?

Obviously idiots and something else going on here and he’s just too old for this shit, and then shenanigans, I guess???

#ragehappy #jeremavinwood #supervillain au #prompt fills #anon #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #long post #Anonymous

29 notes · View notes

heyyylittlemo · 4 years

Text

Ask game

1. Where did you hide the body??

Me: *pause* No, where did you hide the body—

*police stare at me with disbelief*

Me: there’s no—there’s not a single body here—well stop looking at me like that, you’re the cop! You should know! Why are you asking me for! Body? Whaaaaaat. Ahaha.

*cops shake head*

*whispers to my friend* Guys I think I pulled that one off

Police: you know we can hear everything you’re saying

me: 👁👄👁

2. Favorite rock? The 1975. Dominic Fike. Arctic Monkeys. Bad Suns. The killers. Pale Waves. Etc. That good good shit 👌

3. Most aesthetic season? Fall. Love them orange colors. The leaves falling. Though spring is also neat if you have a bunch of flowers bloomin in shit and winter is only aesthetic when it’s snowing. Boring ass summer tho just be heating me up.

4. When texting do u shorten words or spell out? I used to write stuff out all the time mostly but now it’s like half and half bcuz its just faster and nobody got time for it 🤣🤣

5. Vintage stuff? Hell yeah, but maybe not anything too expensive since some old stuff IS hyper expensive.

6. Colors that pop or blend? Not sure I understand what u mean abt them blending ahaha u mean like when they’re so similar to another?? Well I think it’s nice but honestly I prefer a pop and a bang, y’Know?

- At this moment I realized I was answering the last few questions from a completely different ask and felt like a dumbass 😂 anyways the actual number we’re on is three so imma just kickback

3. Worst dream u have ever had? I had sleep paralysis but was imbetween that and a lucid dream. At first I was paralyzed and could see my bed but my eyes felt closed and open at the same time?? A giant dark demon looking dog had towered over me and began to tear at my neck. It looked and felt very real I started to try to scream and it felt like a scream was coming out but no sound exited. Then I went into a lucid dream where I was being chased by this dog and running for my life I was running by and nobody could save me nobody in the dream when it caught up to me I was back in my bed and it was trying to eat me again. I was so terrified I couldn’t sleep for a whole week.

4. Lyric that comes to your mind? “And I don’t think I can be there. I’m paralyzed,I’m terrified of being alone. When you said I deserved what had happened.”

5. Blood make u uncomfortable? Yes, I passed out once when getting my finger pricked and a VERY small blood sample and another when dissecting a fish.

6. Even or odd numbers? Well I like the number 5,7,9, 3 so odd. (Like me 🤣🤣)

7. Something I hate that I love? Anything I’ve ever loved becuz love can be frustrating. Bruh.

8. 1st initial of someone I hate? Hmm...do I hate someone tho? Not that I can think of...

9. *Skipping down the lane* NOPE

10. Corn dogs? It’s funny cuz when I think of corn dogs my mind will always go to when we first moved to our current house because at our initial town we never had Sonic and while we were getting the house fixed up and moving stuff we use to always get Sonic since it was the closest to us most times to eat and that was a bunch of corn dogs and hotdog days 🤣 so thnk u corn dogs for ur service

11. I’m not a huge movie person so...I looked up movies from 2005 and movies Inlike from this time are Brokeback mountain bcuz it’s gay af, Shark Boy and Lava Girl damn I rewatched the shot out of it when I was younger, Narnia and the Chocolate Factory(although it low key creeped me out as a kid, and idk why).

12. Least fav music genre? Most country, most EDM, dubstep, screaming/really hard rock, some pop music, mumble raping.

13. As someone who waits on tables, my job is my least favorite restaurant experience 🤣🤣 just dealing with ppl...like ok, I’m half Hispanic right?? But I look white. Well, I work at a Mexican restaurant and so sometimes racist costumers will say shady shit just bcuz I guess they think it’s appropriate to say it to me just bcuz I’m not Hispanic in their eyes?? But it pisses me off and I feel like I can’t say anything without causing a drama which I hate and when the “costumers always right” it can be hard to budge and stand up and say “bitch wtf did u just say??” And there’s just folks who take things the wrong ways or ask too much at once or give u a hard time or just say something that sticks onto you for the whole day. One bad move can turn my whole day upside down.

14. 3 things never come near me? Cockroaches, Needles, and close mind ppl

15. Worst way to die? With regrets. Something really brutual, random, or where something just happened to go wrong (accident). Being killed by someone u love.

16. Unusual habits? Doing a Michael Jackson esque “hee-hee” after every sneeze I make, being extremely clumsy and making every task 100% more difficult, having the ability to talk as if I have an accent that comes from nowhere in particular just stupidity also I can’t speak my own language half the time 🙃getting words confused or misusing them in a sentence so I sound dumb having a very weird imagination and thoughts, I swear it like I never went to school and don’t know how the world works, plus many many more

17. Clothing style u want? I want to dress in a way that screams who I am and is a blend of both femininity and masculinity. A little vintage. Grunge. Urban maybe?? What do I know abt fashion 🤣🤣

18. Song or artist that deserves more? Dijon, hands down. I love his stuff. He’s like Frank Ocean meets light-singing beautiful lyricist with a more rock vibe?? Hidden gem. I also think Durand Jones & the Indications needs more love along with BadBadNotGood they sound like old-times but are new!! Oh, and Pale Waves is like a female The 1975 and kicks it. Bad Suns is a good alt rock band that no one seems to recognize :,D Toro y Moi too! His song with Flume “The difference “ is a banger!! Kid Cudi is my man when I want a blend of rock and rap. Also Dominic Fike,King Krule, and Roy Blair, who are all amazing!! Ok I need to stop 🛑

Duck I answered the past questions from a different post I’m sorry 😐

17. Emoji never used? There’s a bunch since I reuse the same over and over again. Lmao

18. 3 sentence Gatorade horror story? A faint quiver overtook the small freezer the Gatorade lay in; no one had come by in days, hours, weeks; when was the last time he met the lips of a thirsty body? They’d forgotten about him, as his last sips remained glued to his hollowing entrance. ‘Help, ‘it wanted to say, but it’s frozen lips could not be moved; It’d stay here, die here...just like the rest.” What am I doing with my life 🤣🙏

19. Do u know what an old bay is? A bay that is old? And old ocean? Idk!!!

20. Can u dance? Sometimes I dance when I’m alone but nothing spectral lol

21. What first comes to ur mind when u see ropes? 2 extremes. Sex and death. Hm. Ok. Moving on.

22. Make an obscure reference. “Even a bra couldn’t hold these nipples” *Holds a water gun to chest*

23. Fav balloon color? Pink or yellow.

24. If u were in court would u be innocent or guilty? Depends, what am I in court for 🤣 lmao jk honestly idk bcuz I don’t think I’d wind up in there

25. Are u hungry ? Nope

26. Unlucky number? Hm I don’t think so but I have a lucky number “123”

27. What’s “JMD”stand for? I’m guessing...Jamming my d—- 💀lol jk ahaha why am so dirt

28. Random inside joke? *chirpy squeak* I’m making a double batch of cookies

29. What sends chills up ur spine? Seeing disgust food or smell disgust or talking abt disgust things like gore

30. How many questions are in ur inbox? A pathetic zero ahaha no one want to ask me anything 😂

31. Someone real who scares u. 2 of my ex friends. One when I was 10 said disturbing things and I was kinda forced onto the friendship and everything they said make me fear for others lives...and then a different ex friend who seemed normal at 1st but became both low key psychopath cult leader type stuff and I booed out of there—-.

32. Run or hide? Uhh probably hide because I’d say even if ppl say “u can run but u can’t hide” u CAN just hide! that’s the point of hiding they not find u xD also why not combine them? Hide then run somewhere far away once I got them off the trial.

33. Last person who made u angry? A frickin beetle that flew at me and pinched me in the middle of singing in the shed xD also my autocorrect

34. What’s going on in ur head? I should probably pee soon—

35. Little thing that makes u Smile? A lot of little things bruh.

36. Are u a descisive person?

Not sure.

*pAuse *

Ok, I guess I’m not then 🤣

37. Would ppl say I’m paranoid? Hm maybe about certain things social situations, singing in front of others what ppl think abt me etc etc

38. Store least likely in? Any southern clothes shop, Abercrombie & Finch types shit, lol

39. Do I like hats fave type? Hm not wear many hats but I think they’re cool any type is cool for different ppl and their aesthetici just can’t rock a hat.

40. Bow ties or ties? Don’t really care but now want to see more bow ties

41. Who? You.

42. What? Reading this shit

43. Where? In ur ass

44. When? Now.

45. Why? Not even u know why.

46. How? We all want to know

47. Do u collect anything? Vinyl records.

48. What tome is it? Time to get a watch

49. Fav transportation? My car or walk is possible

50. Would u ever kill someone to save someone? Don’t want to think about that

51. Make a joke. Yo, it’s time to make a joke—so the other day I was working. And I was practicing my Spanish, yes? Anyone whose trying to learn anew language k n o w s that sometimes words can be so close to another u just confuse then! So apparently churros in Spanish is a desert but if u say it more harshly (it literally sounds almost the same) it makes a whole different meaning—diharrea, but like I didn’t know that so I legit just walked up to this person and asked if they would like some shit to eat. So yeah, that was great. Let’s not forget that I mixed up blood, watermelon, and sangria which is a wine. I legit once said I had mixed wine in my vines and another time watermelon 🤣

52. I’m really confused so I skip

53. Would ur dash be confiscated SFW? By dash do u mean this account? Um not 😬

54. Do I like to cuddle? Hell yeah and manhandle ppl all the time it’s my affection

55. What makes u angry? Close minded ppl or ppl who jump too fast to conclusions, strict schedules just dumb stuff that people try to force when I just want to be carefree 😭✌️

56. How many voices are in ur head? 😐

57. Do U consider urself mentally stable? 😐

58. Are u easily offended? Well U just called me mentally unstable and asked it there was voices in my head!!

59. What’s wrong with taking the backstreets? Uhm...

60. Any questions u want ppl to ask u? Nothing in particular but it’s be nice if someone care to ask me something abt me from personal question to my opinions on shit to 19 days fandom related junk 😌

Woooo I’ve finished this game! Thanks to @seiji-amasawa for introducing me to this ^^

#tag game #game #ask #19 days #19days

8 notes · View notes

ephemeral-afterlight · 4 years

Note

Hngh I want to know what happens next in superhero au so bad

previous part

they have a lair. they have an actual, real life lair. a superhero lair hidden underground about a mile outside the city, underneath an old factory that virgil wouldn't have looked twice at had he not been lead by the others through the gate. in the doors, down hallways, through yet another gate, down a long, long flight of spiral stairs, into a dark room, through a locked mechanical door that whirs open courtesy of codebreaker, and into the huge room that looks like something straight out of a science fiction movie. they have a lair, in 2019. virgil feels like he's just stepped straight into an alternate dimension.

"sit," the ringleader tells him as he walks by, cane tapping and echoing in the huge room at slow, uniform intervals. virgil’s wide-eyed wonder draws a giggle from the medic, of whom comes up to him with a hop in his step and peers at him with knowing eyes. he leans forward with his hands clasped behind his back, rolling back and forth from the ball of his foot to the heel in giddiness. his skirt swishes with the motion, seemingly just as lively as the man himself is, and virgil finds it almost comforting despite the simultaneous annoyance at the cheery disposition.

“want some nutrient-infused water? it’s got lots of vitamins and stuff that’s good for you in it! and it tastes like strawberries!” the medic asks, not stopping to wait for virgil’s answer before producing a small bottle the size of his palm from the inside of his cape. at first, virgil wonders incredulously if he keeps little water bottles hidden in tiny cape pockets for spur-of-the-moment use, but then the medic sticks his fist out to drop the bottle into virgil’s hand and his cape flutters open to reveal something that looks like a fanny pack strapped to his chest just above the bottom of his ribcage. it has a heart and cross symbol identical to the ones on his waist and shoes, and virgil realizes that it must be some sort of first aid kit or medical pack.

“oh, uh--” virgil starts, about to decline, but the small frown that forms on the medic’s face makes him feel too guilty to pass it up. with a laboured sigh, virgil accepts the bottle, bringing it up closer to his face to examine it. it looks pretty normal, like water that’s lightly tinted pink. the bottle itself is more like a vial, just without the rounded bottom. this could easily be poison, but they are superheroes, and virgil doubts that heroes would go as far as to try to kill him, even if they’re not completely convinced he’s not their enemy.

as virgil pops the cap off sinks into the chair the ringleader provided him, the scent of the water wafts up toward him almost immediately. it’s potent, but it doesn’t smell bad, necessarily. artificial strawberry assaults his senses, overpowering him in a way that reminds him of the awful, cavity-inducing candies he used to steal from his grandma’s purse and munch on when he was younger. it’s not exactly like how he’d expect poison or chemicals to smell, but then again, a lot of poison isn’t supposed to smell like anything, so.

even though he really, really doesn’t want to drink this stuff, the medic is staring him down expectantly, bright blue puppy dog eyes boring into his soul. it’s like those eyes have picked him up and laid him in clouds, pulled a warm blanket over him and wished him goodnight. a crackling fireplace, hot chocolate and marshmallows, fuzzy socks and hardwood floors and fluffy rugs. it’s like looking into his eyes washes all of his worry away, like they pull out all of his sorrow and hardship and leave him with only pure warmth, and virgil realizes with a jolt that he’s already downed the whole bottle without even feeling it.

upon seeing the now-drained bottle in his hand, empty save for a few trace amounts of leftover liquid, virgil winces. he waits for something to go wrong, to feel a burning in his throat or a headache or to faint or even for him to just flat-out die, but there’s none of that. just the effluvious tang of an offensive mockery of strawberry flavouring coating his mouth and throat. virgil wrinkles his nose and glares at the clear bottle as if it personally threatened him.

“hey, med, come check the counter with me, ‘kay?” the prince says suddenly, an unreadable look flashing in his golden eyes as he watches the two of them before being masked by friendliness when his gaze meets virgil’s own. virgil’s suspicion goes nowhere, seemingly dissolves into thin air when the medic lays a comforting hand on his shoulder through the dark cloak. his touch almost burns with warmth, infuses him with calm, and virgil’s lashes flutter under the weight of his sudden onslaught of sleepiness. then the medic is gone, disappears through another one of those weird high-tech spaceship doors with the prince, and the haze over virgil’s mind slowly begins to clear.

“you say you are not the storm. who are you, then?” the codebreaker suddenly speaks up, smooth voice drifting over from his spot at some sort of panel. it glows brightly, so blinding virgil can’t make out any kind of images or words that it might display, and yet codebreaker somehow seems to be interacting with it effortlessly. he floats there in front of it despite there being a chair right beside him, back hunched and knees pulled up to his chest. his head is tilted, rests on his shoulders as if he’s too weary to hold it up, and his eyes only flit to virgil once before returning to observe the panel in front of him through his hologram face-screen thingy.

“don’t look at the console for too long. it’s not healthy. code-y over there is the only one who can actually see what’s on it. his holovisor has some sort of light filter, or something,” the ringmaster remarks to virgil’s left, leaning on his cane with an air of boredom that virgil doesn’t think is very fair to display. he inspects his nails like he has somewhere better to be, but he’s wearing gloves, so it just ends up making him look weird. then again, the michievous look in his eyes has a hint of knowing to it, so maybe he’s trying to look stupid on purpose just to fuck with him.

“i’m… my name is virgil. im just a guy, man. like i said, i work at a shitty job and still live with my parents. i’m not some… crazy evil supervillain,” virgil tells them, and funnily enough, that desperation he’s been feeling this entire time seems to have completely vanished. he’s wary, but not afraid, which is completely different to how he was feeling just thirty minutes ago.

“virgil altera, born to a liliana altera and a harold whitman. mother is an authour who hasn’t been published in nine years, father is the ceo of an insurance company. you were kidnapped from a local park at age four and stayed missing for five years, until you randomly turned up wandering along a highway outside of a town hundreds of miles away. you were badly beaten and starved, yet were somehow able to walk almost perfectly despite your dangerous condition. you remembered nothing about where you had been, and there was no trail to determine the assailant or where they took you. the case went cold, you returned to your parents, and you were enrolled in middle school by the next year. you graduated from high school with no notable achievements, started working as an office temp, and have been presumably been doing the same thing ever since. an odd story for someone who claims to be a ‘normal guy’, don’t you think?”

okay then. so the codebreaker can just somehow get his whole life story in a matter of seconds. it’s fine. this is fine.

the ringleader raises his brow, the one that’s visible, and lets out a disbelieving snort. “kidnapped? beaten? starved? sounds like a villain backstory to me.”

“yes, well. i suppose we should hear from virgil first before making any rash decisions,” the codebreaker says, finally looking up from the screen and straight at him. virgil draws in on himself, pulse quickening with the amount of information they have on him this easily. the chair is hard underneath his legs, of which are slowly going numb, and virgil can feel the air slowly getting colder as his panic increases. neither of them seem to notice, or if they do, they don’t mention it. the ringleader taps a foot impatiently while virgil just stares, silent and fidgety as he tries to figure out what to say.

“i… i don’t really remember any-- any of that stuff. well, i kinda remember walking on the highway, and someone taking me to a police station, but not the-- not anything before that. i’ve tried so hard to remember but the most i got with my therapist was the word ‘hens’ printed on some sort of paper. that’s really all i remember, i promise,” virgil mutters, swallowing hard under the ringleader’s icy look. the codebreaker says nothing, only narrows his eyes slightly as if he’s contemplating something, and then he turns right back around with his coat flapping behind him as he resumes his position at the bright panel. the ringleader huffs once and rolls his eyes, leaning forward and hoisting himself up onto the raised platform the console resides on instead of walking around to the other side and using the set of stairs there.

the two seem to talk in hushed tones to each other, ignoring virgil’s presence completely, something that both irritates him and relieves him. although he wishes they’d stop being so secretive and just tell him what’s going on and how to fix it, he much prefers the disregard than the intense scrutiny. it gives him a moment to breathe, to try to rein in his frustration and panic. instead of speaking up, he decides to look around the room again, takes in the rows and rows of screens and buttons and switches. it all looks extremely high-tech, futuristic, almost, like he’s just boarded an alien spaceship and is now seeing the ship’s control room. glowing blue light comes from everywhere, enhancing the dim atmosphere with something clandestine.

“alright. if you’re not the storm, then why do you have the same powers? how’d you deflect my whips?” the ringleader asks loudly, snapping virgil out of his reverie. his face is mostly neutral, but there’s a hint of annoyance underneath that suggests a bruised ego. virgil jumps to his feet and stands at attention, something in the ringleader’s tone making him afraid of what will happen if he doesn’t pay attention. “because from what we saw, the storm was fighting us like normal, and then suddenly stopped in the middle of an attack and just dropped out of the sky. we thought it was a trick, so we all fell in and approached together. but instead of an ambush, you were just standing there on the ground not even acknowledging us. i tried to attack, you blocked it, and then instead of dodging princey’s punch, you cowered. so if you truly aren’t the storm, then why do you look like him? why do you have the same body, the same clothes, the same face and voice? why can you use the same powers?”

and virgil honestly doesn’t know what to say. he fell out of the sky? how is he even alive right now?

“i… i don’t know, okay?! all i know is that i woke up standing on that street. you tried to hit me with those glow-y whip thingies, so i tried to put my hands up so it wouldn’t hit my face, and then fucking lightning came out of my hands! i didn’t do it on purpose! how the fuck am i supposed to know? if i did, i wouldn’t have walked this whole time with these stupid bandages on my feet instead of shoes! and now my feet have rocks in them and i’m bleeding and i think my leg is hurt somehow and i feel like i’m gonna pass out any minute and i’m just tired! i want to go home! i want to go back to my stupid boring desk job and live my stupid boring life! i’m not a villain! i’m not… i’m not a killer,” virgil chokes out, voice breaking before he can truly end his rant. and it’s true, his feet do hurt. they feel blistered, sore, sting with the specific type of pain reserved for a cut. his right leg is throbbing, shaky like it could give out any minute, and his arms are so weak he can barely raise them above waist-level. he’s hungry, and angry, and he just wants to sleep. he probably looks like a zombie right now, and he feels like it too.

“wait! you’re hurt?! why didn’t you tell me? that water just isn’t enough to heal you,” the medic’s familiar voice comes as a worried exclamation from the direction of the door he and the prince disappeared into, and virgil turns to see both of them re-entering the room. the prince looks confused, and the medic immediately jumps into action, fretting over him with small touches here and there that alleviate just a little bit of the ache. virgil is pushed gently back into the chair, and then the medic’s gloves are tapping indeterminable patterns into his blood-stained pant leg. it hurts for a moment, feels like a burning sensation as the little hearts on the pads of his glove fingers glow, but then he can feel an odd numbness taking over everything else. he can feel his skin stitching itself back up, his muscles releasing tension, the nerves calming down. it leaves him exhausted, the medic perhaps even more so, what with the way he lets out a strained breath and wobbles to fall down to sit back on the floor. the prince immediately shoots over and kneels behind the other superhero, propping him up to sit at a more normal angle while he catches his breath, and virgil almost feels kinda bad that he sacrificed so much of his energy to help him.

“hey, are you-- are you messing with my emotions?” virgil asks, and the medic looks at him inquisitively from where he’s sitting on the floor in front of the chair. his skirt is spread out around him, draped over his legs and the glassy, reflective black floor. virgil doesn’t really know how a skirt is practical in battle, but he’s not exactly the expert here, so.

“of course! that’s what i do. you were scared, so i made you relaxed instead!” the medic tells him, happy eyes and happy smiles and despite his previous calm, virgil feels annoyance prick at his chest.

“don’t do that. that’s not cool,” virgil says, voice hard, and this time, he feels even more guilty when the medic shrinks in on himself meekly. the prince narrows his eyes dangerously, posture raising in warning, and virgil doesn’t pay him a single bit of attention despite his own fear. “i get that you’re trying to help, but i don’t want you to do that to me without my permission. it just confuses me and makes me tired. please don’t do it unless i say you can, alright?”

his voice is much softer this time, less accusatory, and his gentler approach is obviously the correct one. the medic perks up again, eyes wide as he nods vigorously, and he squeaks out a small “sorry! i’ll be more careful!” before placing his fingers on another bruise and repeating the process of healing all over again. the prince slumps back, still on guard but less confrontational, and the quiet resumes.

eventually, after a couple more rounds of this, filled with the medic ‘tsk’ing at every scrape and gasping at the state of his soles, virgil feels like he can actually stay conscious again. the medic looks a little rough, like he could pass out any second, so the prince picks him up bridal-style with ease and says something about “saving the damsel in distress”. the medic’s weary giggles echo all the way down the corridor for a few long moments after the two of them leave, presumably to rest elsewhere.

“i have come to the conclusion that you are the villain known as ‘the storm’,” the codebreaker says stoically once the noise completely vanishes. the ringleader’s head snaps over to look at him, surprised enough to stumble a bit on his cane, although he rights himself and resumes his put-together appearance as quickly as possible anyway. the words are like a knife through virgil’s heart, an electrified death sentence. they didn’t listen. they didn’t believe him. there’s no way he’s making it out of here. he’s gonna be a prisoner the rest of his life, paying the price and enduring the punishment for a crime he didn’t commit. “the evidence put together all suggests that you are the storm, and you do have powers. you admitted to using them yourself, albeit unintentionally. by all accounts, you are a powered individual and the villain we have been fighting for the past three years.

“however, i don’t believe that this is the full story. i think there’s more to it, that there has to be something else we’re missing. although i have not come to an agreement within myself on whether i believe you are completely innocent yet, i believe that you believe what you are saying, and that you think your version of events is the truth. if you truly do not remember this, remember being the storm and fighting us and wreaking havoc, then many questions have been raised that must be addressed. why do you not remember your villainous activities? why were you unaware that you have powers in the first place? is this the work of someone else? if so, then who? what is their goal? why are they using you as an intermediary for their influence? there is much to think about, and i cannot waste any more time just standing around,” the codebreaker finishes, ramblings coming to an abrupt halt as his holovisor drops open in front of his eyes again and he starts swiping and tapping at the bright console for the third time. virgil wants to know exactly what it is he’s doing over there, but he doesn’t really think he’s in the position to ask at the moment.

“for now, i’d like you, prince, and medic to train him. show him how to use his powers, and how to fight. he could be a viable asset and potentially act as a stand-in to fight villains while i work,” codebreaker commands pointedly at the ringleader, of whom opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, but decides against it and simply nods.

“alright. virgil, right? come with me. i hope you don’t have anyone waiting for you at home, because you’re staying here for the time being,” the ringleader tells him, a snarky grin plastered on his face as he turns to stride over to the same door that the prince and the medic left through. virgil just stands there, mouth agape, unable to process everything that’s happening. he’s staying here? in the weird superhero lair? he’s gonna live underneath an old factory in this weird sci-fi spaceship bunker until they… what? figure out why he’s the storm, why he has powers? are they going to help him finally figure out what happened to him when he was a kid?

“are you coming?” the ringleader asks, voice low and seductive, but not in the way virgil is used to hearing from his misogynist coworkers in the break room. his voice doesn’t promise sex, or money, or fame. it promises adventure, promises answers, and virgil groans internally when he realizes that there’s absolutely no way he could ever say no to that.

small taglist: @illogical-anxieties @kazykazu @sharp-as-hyalus @bookwyrminspiration @thekitchenpan @bunny222

14 notes · View notes

starfoxrry · 5 years

Photo

soooo no one tagged me to do this but i’m gonna do it anygays bc :O

1. Big White Lie (263k) by acrayonsmile (ao3)

You’re not running on three hours of sleep.

You don’t have a headache.

You’re not an omega.

You’re Louis Tomlinson: Beta.

Louis has been pretending to be something he’s not for as long as he can remember. Will the pack find out before it’s too late to fix him?

2. Cold Little Heart (194k) by @seduced-by-curls

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham Louis really could use the help.

3. Now In A Minute (150k) by @avocadolouie

13 feels like yesterday for many people, but for Louis it actually was.

More than anything in the world, Louis Tomlinson dreams of growing up. Simply skipping over all of the awkward, embarrassing years of teenage existence and getting on with life. Real life.

So when thirteen-year-old Louis wakes up in the body of his thirty-year-old self, he expected everything in his adult life to be picture perfect. And maybe it is. He has it all…or so it seems.

Except his favorite person and lifelong best mate, Harry Styles, is totally missing from the equation and Louis doesn’t understand why. He has a lot of catching up to do and as adult life turns out to be more than what he bargained for, Louis can’t help wondering why a life that seemed so perfect, feels so empty.

Or the 13 going on 30 au that should have been done years ago.

4. Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You) (54k) by @rainbowsandgucci

Louis is staying at his Aunt’s farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles.

Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry’s friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn.

He also starts to fall in love with Harry.

Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

5. Only You Can Be My Alpha (194k) by @wubwubnparmaham

The one where Louis is banished from his tribe, and lands himself in Harry’s instead. The alluring Pack Alpha makes Louis question his nature and he doesn’t know how he feels about that. But you can’t fight destiny.

6. Where You Lay (86k) by @ham-palpert

When Louis’s upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates’ best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

7. Tangled Up In You (45k) @missandrogyny

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

8. Have You Coming Back Again (31k) by @crazyupsetter

It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.

Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.

Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all.

He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.

9. All The Right Moves (32k) by @cherrystreet

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

10. Worth Dying For (44k) by @crazyupsetter

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

11. Another Day Gettin' Into Trouble (25k) by @crazyupsetter

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

12. A Sea Without Water, A Compass Without Direction (84k) by sincerely_inge (AO3)

”Tell me, Louis,” Captain Styles said, leaning forward a little. ”D’you think I’m an idiot?”

”I—what?” Louis asked, surprised by the blunt question. He had expected something different, something along the lines of how he learned music, or how he ended up as a prisoner on the other ship.

”Do you think I’m an idiot?” The captain repeated, putting emphasis on each word as though Louis couldn’t understand him otherwise.

”Of course not,” Louis said, shaking his head. He’d be a fool for thinking such a thing, and an even bigger fool for saying it out loud. ”Captain.”

Captain Styles nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. ”Then why did you lie to me?”

”L-Lie?”

”Out on the deck. You lied to me,” he said. He held up his hand, three fingers up. ”Three lies total. I hate liars.”

13. I Know How To Whisk (But Teach Me Anyway) (32k) by @2tiedships2

Louis scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t understand. Unmated alphas don’t just go into a rut out of nowhere. Unless…”

Louis grabbed onto Niall’s arm in desperation. “Am I a homewrecker? Does Harry have a mate? Oh my God, was he not flirting? Did the change in his scent not have anything to do with my smell yesterday? Did I just make that up!?”

Louis let go of Niall and dropped his face in his hands. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“You’re an idiot,” Niall stated. Louis looked up to find Niall rolling his eyes. He snapped his laptop closed and moved to stand up. “I need to get some work done. Why don’t you stay here and think back to ABO dynamics 101.”

With that Niall hopped off the couch and headed to his room. He stopped and turned to Louis before he made it to the hall and said, “Oh, and Lou. You may want to reconsider your outlook on soulmates.”

Louis yelled after him. “Soulmates aren’t a thing, Niall!”

Or the one in which banana bread just might make Louis change his mind about soulmates.

14. The Compulsion to Find Love (140k) by @toomanylarrytears

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

15. Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat (34k) by @angelichl

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

16. For Reasons Wretched And Divine (94k) by indiaalphawhiskey (AO3)

Ten years ago, Harry Styles was just a nerdy kid with one friend and a debilitating crush on the captain of his school’s football team. He thought the stars were smiling down on him the day he and Louis Tomlinson were paired for their end-of-term Literature project. But because Harry’s life is decidedly not a fairytale, the budding friendship quickly leads to the least happy ending of all time.

Now, Harry Styles is a household name. Barely twenty-seven with two Grammy nominations to his name, the singer-songwriter is poised to take the music industry by storm with his highly anticipated third album. So, what happens when the best producer in the business is also the only person Harry’s vowed never to speak to again?

An AU in two parts. Two boys, two stories, and hopefully, two chances at love.

17. Friendly Neighborhood Spideypool (18k) by @shitucute

“Don’t fuck with me, I’m not in the mood.” Louis’ got the urge to punch him in the face, but he knows deep down that if anything it’ll just add fuel to Harry’s innuendo fire.

“You know I only fuck you, not with you. There’s a difference. It’s slight but still there.” He’s joking, but it’s sincere in a way that only Deadpool could make it. It gives Louis a strange mix of emotions, his body doesn’t know whether to fill with butterflies or to knee Deadpool in the balls again for insinuating them fucking.

or, Harry is Deadpool and Louis is Spider-Man and they’ve got way too much history

18. Strawberries & Cigarettes (74k) by @dimpled-halo

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

19. Mark my word (we gon’ be alright) (35k) by harioandlouigi

“He’s always known that there would come a time when Harry would bond with some beautiful, quiet omega, and they would have lots of curly-haired pups and live happily ever after.

Knowing it and living it are two very different things, though. Watching the object of your affection desperately search for a mate and completely disregard you as an option is all sorts of painful, but it is what it is, and Louis is just going to have to learn to live with that.”

Or, an A/B/O AU featuring an oblivious Harry as the pack leader, a pining Louis as his second-in-command, and an entourage of friends and family who are a little too good at keeping their mouths shut.

20. Let’s Fall in Love in a Place You Want to Stay (134k) by @harryventura

A George of the Jungle / Tarzan AU where Louis is a model who meets Wild Man Harry in the Congo. He was raised by apes and barely speaks a word of English and turns Louis’ life upside down

21. Why Cant It Be Like That (63k) by @taggiecb

Louis Tomlinson, head of his local hospital’s charity fund, suddenly finds himself in the heart of the Royal family when his mother marries the third son of the reigning monarch. Such an upset in lifestyle brings a lot of changes for Louis, one of them being the need for a stylist.

Enter Harry Styles, a cutting edge fashion stylist who loves his job and prides himself on his passion. The first time he sees Louis Tomlinson on the cover of a tabloid he wants to dress him, style him, make him as beautiful as Harry knows he could be. When he’s hired to do just that, he knows this will be a perfect partnership. That is, until he actually meets the man.

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn’t need a stylist, Harry’s thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they’re both very wrong about each other.

22. blind from this sweet, sweet craving (31k) by @missandrogyny

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

23. led by your beating heart (29k) by @missandrogyny

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

24. Queen Of Arizella (197k - wip) by @seduced-by-curls

Stealing from Royalty is punishable by death.

Louis starts over, doing his best to keep his hands at his sides but he is hungry and he tries stealing from the wrong Royal.

Harry is King of Arizella, he needs a Queen and who better than an omega on the run from death? Louis will learn to become the perfect Queen -the perfect fake Queen, but only for a few months.

A fake lover, a fake Queen, but a real bond.

i tag: @bottomlouis @iconichalo @tinytommoson @oioilarrie @chaoticsue @babyy-honey and anyone who wants to do it just say i tag u

#m #my rec

243 notes · View notes

xmagicxshopx · 5 years

Text

Moon Monsters - Chapter 6

Genre: Fantasy Adventure, Romance (smut later), Comedy Rating: PG-13 Warnings: none at this time Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Jimin x oc, Taehyung x oc Notes: werewolf!bts au. Not idol!bts. Same goes for GOT7. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: I was the dork who Googled and made sure there were actually McDonald’s in Seoul before writing this. XD And I actually proof read most of this~

Tagging: @och-ako @jiminnies-baby @kfictionstories @justbangtanandjams @lizardsocial @breadcaaat

Summary: You’re the CEO’s new personal assistant. But there’s something strange about him and the company you work for.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Jungkook was normally a pretty light sleeper thanks to his sensitive canine ears. Always being on the alert and whatnot. But with the events having taken place in the last 24 hours, it was to be expected that he’d sleep in a little. He had the super human strength, hearing, anything you could think of, but this morning he slept like a rock.

What helped the most was you. The fact that you, his precious mate, was right under his nose; filling his senses with your delicious scent. Doe eyes fluttering open, he let out a subconscious yip of happiness in his groggy state and finally looked down to see that you were still comfortable as could be sleeping on his chest.

Dear god he was in heaven.

He could get used to mornings like these. Speaking of, it looked to be about mid-morning. Perhaps 9:30 ish? The sun was pouring its natural light in through the slated blinds and curtains both. The way the light fell on you made you look like an angel from heaven itself. Your hair was messy in the cutest way. And your face without makeup was his favorite. He was pretty sure you could be covered in mud and still look absolutely gorgeous.

Yep. He was whipped.

But he could care less. Because he was the happiest guy alive right now.

Just then, you started to stir, looking beautiful as ever while you did so. Your face scrunched up cutely in confusion despite your eyes still being closed; clearly already knowing something wasn’t right. Or rather that something was different. It only took you a millisecond of movement for you to pop your eyes wide open. Within a heartbeat, you were looking up at him and wow you were adorable.

“Jungkook?”

“Morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?”

He didn’t seem the least bit phased by the fact that they were sleeping on the couch together. That there was so much physical contact right now. You were laying on top of him for goodness sake. Heat rushed to your face and you could practically feel it rolling off in waves, so you knew he had to feel it too. But he just laid there looking perfectly content.

“I um-----Yeah? I think?”

“Aigoo. You’re too cute. You ready for our big day today?”

It was more than obvious that you were flustered. Especially since you didn’t answer his original question. But at least he got the answer he was hoping for. It eased some of his worry and concern knowing that you got some decent sleep. With any luck, that was all because of him. His chest wanted to swell with pride at the idea of it all. Him, protecting his mate.

You knew you should have asked him how well he slept too but you were just in awe over how.....comfortable he was with this. They were coworkers. Sure they hung out after work from time to time but still. This was so......intimate? At least for you it was. Trying to gain focus and answer his question, you nodded a bit and said timidly in a small voice,

“Yeah. I think. But on one condition.”

Those last few words left your mouth and it surprised you both. You for your sudden burst of courage and him because he watched you go from timid and nervous to determined and firm. Watching him nod a bit in understanding, you then sat up and moved to where you were sitting next to him on the opposite end of the couch while he was still laying down.

“I get to pay for my meals today. If you’re going to buy all my stuff for me, then I’m at least paying for my meals. Or we have no deal.”

You knew you didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. You needed things. And a lot of them. Especially your toiletries. So you weren’t really in a position to make deals but you could only hope that he’d bite and show you mercy by accepting your conditions. It was the least you could afford at this point and you felt guilty beyond belief.

Jungkook was now sitting up as well as he sat there across from you; staring at you in thought and concentration. He was considering it. Playing it over in his mind.

On one hand, he wanted to refuse and insist on paying for everything. Then again, he knew you were pretty upset in the guilty sense from everyone paying your way through all of this. And he would rather see you happy. So if paying for your meals today would make you happy, then that’s what would happen. Smiling a warm smile, he nodded and held out his hand for you to shake.

“Deal.”

His hand was warm as it fit around yours perfectly. There was something there......a connection? Something about having your hand in his. There was this soft and warm tingling sensation that went up your whole arm and you wondered if he noticed it too. It actually caused you to let your hand linger in his. It was a lot similar to how you felt in Namjoon’s office when he announced that you’d be working together with Kook.

He knew you could feel it. The connection. The special connection that every wolf has with their mate. Oh how he wanted to just tell you now. Tell you everything. The fact that he was a werewolf and you were his mate. His mate picked by the Moon Goddess and Mother Nature themselves. Speaking of, man you smelled amazing. Your approaching ovulation was killing him.

“Okay! So let’s get our showers and we can have a nice early lunch. Your pick because I’ll eat anything. I’m like a garbage disposal.”

“Aigoo, Kook. You’re too skinny to be a garbage disposal.”

The two of you laughed as you playfully tried to shove him but of course he went absolutely nowhere and it only caused you to lean against him instead. To you this moment probably didn’t seem like much. However, to Jungkook it meant the whole world. Here he was, enjoying his best life. He had a great job, a great roof over his head, a nice car that gets him from point A to point B, and most of all, he had you.

“Alright, ladies first. Surprise me with a cute outfit too.”

Even though you yelped from surprise, the soft and gentle pats to your bum didn’t feel raunchy or inappropriate. In fact, it almost felt endearing. Did you really just admit to yourself that you liked your coworker patting your bum? Yeah. You’re pretty sure that’s what just happened. Good gravy your emotions were all over the place. What was wrong with you? Hopefully this shower would help clear your head.

Wrong. Very wrong.

You ended up smelling just like him. Well not exactly. For you had your own natural scent but this was the shampoo you could smell in his hair and the body wash mixed with his natural scent was intoxicating and here you were literally bathing in it. Yeah. So much for clearing your head. Boy today was going to be a long day. Were you ready for this? Probably not. The only thing you could really do was just take it one step at a time. One foot in front of the other.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Jungkook or repulsed by him. Surprisingly enough, it was beginning to be quite the opposite. But you supposed that’s what was bothering you. Shouldn’t you be a little more skeptical of living with a coworker? Why did taking a shower in his bathroom seem so......natural? Things weren’t adding up and it was like you were fighting a brick wall. An invisible force of nature. That was silly, right?......Right?

You allowed the water to cascade down your body and over your face; the steam soothing to you. Perhaps you should just....let go? Stop pushing against this odd feeling of comfort. Stop questioning this sensation of tranquility and just.....let it be. Hell, maybe embrace it? You had no doubt in your mind that Jungkook would never harm you in any way. So why not just.....enjoy your stay with him till you find a place of your own again.

Meanwhile, said male was bustling about and getting ready for his day. He had already transferred some more money and picked out a pretty simple outfit for the day. He really needed to shave too. Ugh. For a wolf, he actually hated facial hair. So naturally the stubble he had was driving him nuts. Although he couldn’t help but wonder if you would like him better with a beard of some kind. Hmm....Hopefully one day he’d get to ask you that and it not seem weird or random.

Hearing the hairdryer, he smiled to himself. This was the life. Sitting at home, in his den, his nest, and just enjoying the peace and tranquility of it all. His beautiful and gorgeous mate grooming herself to perfection in the other room. God. Knowing you wouldn’t be able to hear, he let out a happy yip as his leg tried to bounce. His inner wolf was rolling around with happiness too. Man. Was this how Jimin and Taehyung felt all the time? Did their mates make them giddy like this?

“The bathroom is all yours, Kookie.”

Good gravy he just about got caught. There he sat on the couch nearly about to shift from pure happiness when you walked in looking like a goddess yourself. The smell of his body wash mixed well with your natural scent. He could feel drool trying to form around his tongue. Swallowing hard, he soaked up your attire for the day. Man he was going to lose it before the day was over.

You picked out a pretty sundress that was modest and conservative but it still hugged your body in all the right places. You had these really cute matching earrings and he couldn’t help but smile a bright eye smile as he stood up. Surely he must be so obvious. It was amazing that you hadn’t called him out on how much he was staring. Or perhaps you were just that adorably clueless. Walking over to you, he noticed how you looked a bit uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“I smell like a man.”

“Ouch. I thought I smelled pretty good, thank you very much.”

“Yah. You know that’s not what I meant.”

This time when you tried to shove him, he let you win a bit and took a small step back from your outstretched arms. Laughing softly at your adorable pout, he stepped back into place as his hands gently found purchase on your shoulders. Smiling warmly as he faced your pouting lips, he said soothingly with sincerity,

“You smell fine, princess. And after today, you’ll smell like a beautiful rose instead of a pine tree.”

“Aigoo, you’re unbelievable. Shut up.”

Okay so he had to get that last little jab in there. But he just couldn’t help it. Teasing you and watching your face burn red and getting all flustered was one of his favorite things. Laughing and catching your hand when it tried to swat at him, he did what absolutely came natural to him and kissed the back of it.

And that was when you both froze. For different reasons. One in confusion and the other in panic.

Even though it surprised you, the action of Jungkook kissing the back of your hand didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should have. In fact, the only thing that was bothering you was.....why did it not bother you? In all actuality, it felt quite.....normal? Why? How? The two of you barely knew each other till you started working on the same floor as him. This made no sense at all.

‘Way to go, genius.’

Kook wanted to snap at his inner wolf but really.....his wolf was right. Way to go, genius. His knee jerk reaction was to let go of your hand like it was fire but he managed to keep what little cool he had and instead gently let go and cleared his throat. With a soft sheepish laugh and a rub to the back of his head, he said a bit nervously,

“Well I’m gonna go and wash in pine trees too. I won’t be long and then we can head out and get some food. I’m starved.”

And just like that he was gone; nearly speed walking his way to the bathroom. Letting out a puff of air you didn’t realize you had been holding, you took a couple deep breaths before immediately going into your new room and finding your phone. Your mind was swimming as you dialed the desired number. Pressing the phone to your ear, you subconsciously started to chew on the skin of your lips; a bad habit of nervousness.

“Hello?”

“Mama Bird? It’s me.”

“Oh! Yes yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t even bother looking at the caller ID. What’s up, sweet pea?”

“It’s.......I......I dunno.”

You sighed heavily and flopped onto your super comfy bed and stared at the canopy above you. It truly was a beautiful set-up, your bed was. Blinking in confusion and wonder, you finally managed to speak up again.

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Are you okay? Has he done something to you?”

“No no! It’s not that. It’s just......I can’t explain it. He......We were just talking and joking and laughing and then he-----He kissed the back of my hand. Am I reading too much into this? I’m so confused, Mama. I don’t know what to do or how to feel. I feel like I’m gonna----”

“Sweet pea. Breathe. Just breathe for me, okay?”

Listening to you take deep breaths, the petite female was smiling in sympathy. Jimin sat next to her on the couch and could hear everything thanks to his amazing hearing. They both felt for you; knowing what you’re going through. It was tough for the both of them when they first found each other. Jimin had no idea how to act around his mate without coming off as some kind of freaky stalker or something. And Mama Bird couldn’t understand this odd and powerful attraction to the male. It would seem you were suffering the same confusion.

“Did you like it when Kookie kissed the back of your hand?”

“Well.....I mean.....It was nice? I dunno! I shouldn’t though right? We’re coworkers! We’re just friends!”

“Do you want to be more than just friends and coworkers?”

“I------I dunno.”

The two laughed softly in endearment when they heard you whining on the other end of the line. You were just too adorable. Their adorable clueless cutie. But despite it all, they both knew Jungkook was going to have to tell you the truth eventually. With a knowing and warm smile that Mama Bird knew you’d never see, she spoke softly and in a motherly tone,

“Just go with the flow, sweetheart. Trust me on this one. Just let it flow.”

“Mama that’s not very helpful.”

“Just trust me. Now I gotta go. My cookies are going to burn if I don’t.”

“But I----”

But you never got a chance to finish your sentence and the line was already dead. Sighing and not feeling any more clarity than you did before, you let your phone fall next to you on the bed and stared at the ceiling in utter confusion; your heart beating a little faster than usual and your mind a blender.

Sitting up, you decided to grab your purse and make sure you had everything you needed before heading back into the living room to wait for your......whatever he was. You honestly had no idea anymore. Mama Bird’s words swirled in your head. Just go with the flow? Just let it flow? What did that even mean? Ugh. So confusing.

“Okay. I’m ready! Let’s hit the road.”

“Cookies are gonna burn, huh? Nice one, babe.”

“Oh hush. You know I don’t like fibbing. But I didn’t want to risk telling her too much because I don’t like fibbing. I didn’t want to blow your guys’ cover before it was time. Besides, it should be Jungkook that tells her. Not me.”

Mama Bird pouted cutely as she laid there in Jimin’s arms on the couch. It was just a relaxing Sunday day after the events of yesterday. Both were exhausted but being in each other’s arms helped tremendously. Jimin moved them to where they were once again laying down on the couch with her on top of him. Running his fingers through his mate’s hair, he spoke softly in his warm loving tone,

“You did the right thing. Hopefully she takes your advice.”

“I hope so too. She sounds like she’s really struggling right now.”

Suddenly, there was a squawk that shattered the peaceful silence of the living room that followed up with a,

“Jimin’s a pussy! Jimin’s a pussy!”

“I’m gonna skin Taehyung alive the next time I see him.”

Soon enough, you were climbing into the driver’s seat of your brand new Hyundai. It still felt so surreal but at least it got your mind off of your confused feelings for awhile. With both hands on the steering wheel, you were trying to get used to the fact that you no longer needed to insert a key to turn the engine on. Just the press of a button and done; car started. It was like stepping into the future or something.

“So where are we eating?”

“I just figured we could eat wherever was closest to the stores.”

“Works for me. Like I said before, I’ll eat anything.”

The longer you drove, the more Jungkook realized you were shopping on the cheaper end of town. Granted it broke his heart a bit and made him sad, but he understood your reasoning. It was plain to see that you had been forced to live cheap your whole life. Living from paycheck to paycheck. He wasn’t going to scold you for it, but he also had plans to.....broaden your horizons as he liked to think of it.

“Is this okay?”

You had parked them in a McDonald’s and honestly he couldn’t be happier. There was a nice juicy cheeseburger that had his name written all over it. Nodding vigorously with a bright bunny smile, he replied in a little more enthusiasm than he probably should have,

“Absolutely! Let’s go!”

At first, you thought he might just be putting on a show to make you feel better about your pick of cheap food. But upon seeing how his eyes lit up while staring at the menu board, you were beginning to think his eagerness was genuine and real. You watched him place his order and pay for it before taking his assigned number and stepping to the side so that you could do the same.

Your initial instinct was to pick a salad. You didn’t want to look like a fatty in front of him. But then again, that burger looked amazing. And so did everything else. You really didn’t want rabbit food today. It was then that Mama Bird’s words once again floated through your mind. And so the words that came flying out of your mouth ended up being,

“I’ll have what he’s having.”

Not too long into the meal, things were starting to get messy. Literally. Laughing behind his hand as he chewed on a particularly large bite of burger, Jungook tried to say between the chewing and the laughing,

“You’ve got it all over your face.”

“Shut up. So do you.”

But despite your grumpy reply, you could feel your lips trying to curl into a smile of amusement. So much for trying to not look like a fat kid. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were till you had completely cleaned off your tray of food. The cheeseburger had been absolutely delicious and everything else was just as good. You felt full and warm and.....happy.

Perhaps Mama Bird was right. You just needed to go with the flow. Let it flow.

“What are you thinking about?”

You blinked a couple times and noticed that the man sitting across from you was casually sipping on his drink; his face now free of sauce and sesame seeds. Around all of that were his eyes. Those doe, almond shaped eyes that were currently full of curiosity. Trying not to gulp in nervousness, you shrugged as casually as you could and replied as much,

“Dunno. Just......everything. I’m still really overwhelmed with the last forty-eight hours.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how that must feel. But don’t worry.”

He reached across the table and gently took your hand in his; his thumb rubbing your skin soothingly. Your heart fluttered and you couldn’t fight off the blush that formed in your cheeks as you found yourself lost in his eyes.

“You won’t go through this alone. I’m always here for you.”

“Th---Thank you, Jungkookie.”

And to both your surprise, you gripped his hand back tightly.

As much as he wanted to sit there and chat and get to know his mate better, Jungkook knew the day was half over and they had a lot of ground to cover if they were going to make it back home in time to get any kind of rest for work tomorrow. Work.....Yes they would be working together soon. Which reminded him of one thing on his list. Boots. You had absolutely no nature gear. Like rubber boots. But they could do the clothes shopping later once you had gotten all your toiletries and other necessities.

“So let’s get out of here and get your stuff. Where to first?”

“I was going to head across the street here and stop in the store where my pharmacy is. All my medicine got lost in the fire. Plus this store is where I get all my beauty products and stuff.”

“Cool cool. Let’s head out, then.”

After safely crossing the bustling streets, you made your way into the store and headed straight back towards the pharmacy. Jungkook followed behind you and couldn’t help but want to drool over your backside. Gosh you looked gorgeous all the way around. It was so hard for him to focus when you looked this radiant.

“Well look who’s out and about. What are you two doing here?”

It was Taehyung and his mate, Black Widow. It appeared she must get her medicine from this pharmacy too. After having paid the necessary amount, the black haired female turned around to face you and Kook as well. Both her and Tae were sporting warm smiles and it made you feel a bit bashful. Why? You couldn’t explain but it made you blush shyly all the same. With a small wave of greeting, you replied timidly,

“I’m here to pick up medicine. They didn’t survive the fire.”

“Oh my. Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. It never even occurred to me. It was insensitive of me to ask.”

“Ani ani, Tae. It wasn’t. I promise you. Don’t feel bad.”

With him still flashing you an apologetic smile, Taehyung nodded all the same and then politely stepped aside with his arm around his mate’s waist so that you could do your thing at the pharmacy window. With a glance to his younger wolf brother, the suave looking male whispered into his mate’s ear,

“I’m gonna take Kook to one of the aisles for a talk, keep her company, will you?”

“Of course, TaeTae.”

With a swift peck to the lips, the older male let go of his mate only to drag a clueless and confused looking Jungkook down a random aisle. Of course it would be the liquor aisle. Just as the youngest was about to ask what the deal was, it was Tae who spoke up first.

“You imprinted on her?”

“It was an accident?”

“Kook......”

The younger of the two winced a little at the warning tone that was held in his older brother’s voice. Yeah. He was in trouble. But it truly was an accident....At least in his mind. It just happened so sudden. It came so naturally. Gulping, Jungkook tried to explain exactly that as he lifted his hands in defense.

“Look. Listen. It was so sudden and hyung it felt so natural. I couldn’t stop it.”

“Does she know you’ve imprinted on her?”

“No. Of course not.”

“So then you’ve imprinted on her without her consent?”

“Yeah.......Oops?”

“Yeah. A very big oops. Jungkook. This could have dire consequences for you. She will be fine but if she doesn’t return your affections......we could lose you, Kook.”

The youngest knew his older brother was just looking out for him and that this grumpiness and scolding session was all coming from love. But still. Jungkook never did well when being scolded. It was just the nature of being the youngest, he supposed. With his head slightly bowed in shame and his doe eyes glancing anywhere but at his hyung, he spoke softly,

“She’s worth the risk, Tae. I love her so much.”

“I know you do, buddy. Trust me. I’ve been there. But.....lucky for you....”

Taehyung waited for his younger brother to look back up at him before he added with a bit of a boxy smile,

“I can tell she’s got a thing for you too. She’s just fighting it, is all. It confuses her. Naturally so. That’s why I’m hoping Widow can maybe talk to her and kind of push her in the right direction. Your direction, pal.”

“Thanks, hyung. You’re the best.”

“So how’s things living with Jungkookie?”

You sat there in the small waiting area as you waited for your emergency refills of your medicine. Perhaps the fact that you had missed what was now two days worth of birth control was what was messing you up emotionally? You had always been super sensitive to your birth control; especially if you missed a dose. Looking over at Black Widow, you decided to tell her what had happened earlier this morning.

“Awe! That’s so sweet of him! How romantic! I ship you two, you know.”

“Yah. Widow! You’re not helping here.”

“I can’t help it. You guys are cute together.”

“But we hardly know each other. And we’re just friends. And coworkers. We’re coworkers!”

“So? What’s that got to do with anything?”

You pouted when you realized that you didn’t really have a solid or legitimate answer for that one. Squinting your eyes playfully at your friend, you watched her giggle and raise her hands in front of her in defense.

“Look. I’m just saying, Jungkook likes you. In fact, I think he has a crush on you.”

“Widow that’s ridiculous. Why would he have a crush on me?”

“Well for one, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. All heart eyes all the time. And not just anyone would do what he’s done for you in the last twenty-four hours. He moved Heaven and Earth for you, girlfriend. I don’t think he would have done that if he didn’t have some kind of feelings for you.”

You stared down at your hands in your lap. Maybe she was right. Maybe that’s why Jungkook had so easily kissed the back of your hand the way he had. Perhaps that’s why he was so comfortable with you sleeping on top of him on the couch? It made sense. As much as your heart confused you, what Widow was saying made sense.

“Just go with the flow.”

“You sound like Mama Bird.”

“That’s two against one. So just trust us and let things flow.”

Soon enough, your medicine was ready and it was time to part ways with Widow and Taehyung. They both gave you and Jungkook hugs before taking off for home. As they walked out of the store, Widow asked with a hint of concern,

“You think they’ll be okay? I did my best with her.”

“I think they’ll be fine. She just needs a little push is all. I have no doubt you worked wonders, baby girl. You always do.”

The young woman smiled with her eyes briefly shut so she could enjoy the sweet kiss to her temple as she walked to the car with her beloved. Once upon a time, she was in the same position as you were. It was Mama Bird who had helped her through it all. So she could only hope that she could help you through your journey down this fated path.

“Medicine? Check. What next, princess?”

“Shampoo, body wash, deodorant, face masks, founda----”

“Aigoo aigoo. One item at a time, love. Come on. Let’s head down the hair care aisle first.”

The pet name didn’t go by unnoticed as your heart fluttered a bit and heat threatened to rise up your neck and to the tips of your ears. However, you managed to squash the urges and focused on the rows upon rows of hair care products. Shampoo. Shampoo. You were looking for your usual when you watched a veiny arm move up to pick out a bottle of shampoo as you were asked,

“What about this one? It’s supposed to help keep your hair shiny and healthy.”

As he popped the cap up to take an experimental sniff, you turned your eyes to what mattered most to you; the price. You couldn’t help but notice it was a bit more expensive than your usual but it also wasn’t the most expensive either. Chewing your bottom lip nervously, you didn’t take long to cave before muttering shyly,

“Yeah. That one doesn’t look too bad. And the price isn’t terrible. It’s on sale.”

“Right? It’s like getting the best of both worlds. It smells really nice too.”

The shopping went on like this for the next half hour or so. You couldn’t help but notice the items in the basket that Jungkook was carrying had none of your usual items in it. You were going to walk out of here with brand new everything and you were pretty sure that’s how your new roommate intended it to be. And yet.....you didn’t fight it. You just went with it.

You went with the flow.

“Well this was a pretty successful shopping trip. You’re no longer going to smell like pine trees either. I call this trip a victory.”

“You’re such a dork. You basically picked everything out.”

“True, but you didn’t dispute any of them, did you?”

He laughed as your reply was to simply glare at him. Of course it was mild and only halfheartedly but still. You looked more adorable rather than threatening or scary. Facing your glare with puckered lips as if to smooch you, the both of you piled the bags into the trunk and had started to climb in the front.

However, something across the street caught your eye.

It was your old car. The one that went missing so randomly.

“That’s-----That’s my car! Jungkook there it is! What’s it doing there?”

“Hey---Wait----What---”

But you weren’t listening to him. All you could focus on was the sight of your car as it was parallel parked next to the sidewalk of the local park. It was an absolute mess. Someone had spray painted all over it. Graffiti of all kinds. All four tires were blown. The hood was popped open. A mess. An absolute mess.

Jungkook watched on and thank god you looked both ways before crossing the street. However, as he followed suit, his sensitive ears picked up on something. A ticking. A beeping. With wide eyes, he watch you get closer and closer to the car.

“NO! GET BACK! IT’S A B----”

He managed to grab you from behind as you approached the exposed engine. Not bothering to hide his super human strength and speed, he tried to get you as far away from the vehicle as possible. But he wasn’t quite swift enough.

The blast. It was numbing. Mind numbing. Especially for his hyper canine senses. Jungkook’s ears were ringing and everything swam in front of him. The sky, the trees from the park right next to him. Car alarms were going off and he could hear police and fire truck sirens going off. God. So much noise. He couldn’t think straight as he laid there sprawled on the sidewalk. He could only imagine how you felt.

Wait.......You.........YOU?!?!

What happened to you???

#werewolf!bts #werewolf!jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts scenario #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #s;moonmonsters #jimin x oc #taehyung x oc

112 notes · View notes