#*foams at the mouth* bro I’m gonna be so normal about this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youngbloodslut · 3 years

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celebrity crush | 2/??

a/n: the first interview is mostly based off of dove cameron and ava max’s interviews with popbuzz

summary: actress! reader somehow manages to bring up her crush on calum hood in every interview

pairing(s): calum hood x reader, platonic! reader x tom holland

warning(s): swearing? slight mentions of kinks

“She’s at it again mate,” Ashton smirked as he carried his laptop over to Calum who was sat on the sofa. He flipped open the computer and hit play on y/n y/l/n’s newest interview.

“C’mon, I don’t wanna-” Calum rubbed his hand over is face and shook his head.

Ashton ignored him and turned up the volume to drown out his protest. “Shhh.. watch.”

“Hey guys, I’m y/n y/l/n and this is the Pop Buzz Tower of Truth.” You spoke as the title popped up on screen.

“I think I’m gonna end up tipping it before I can even get one block out,” You said as you tried to carefully pull of a wooden block.

“That will never work,” Calum heard a voice from off camera say and recognized it as Tom Holland. He tried not to frown as you laughed and mocked him.

“Y’know what, we’re leaving that one.” You laughed, leaving the original block alone and easily pulling out another block.

“There we go. Okay, what was the last movie or tv show that make you cry? Dead Poets Society. I love Dead Poets Society so much and Tom had never seen it so we watched it after finishing yesterdays interviews.” You placed the block on top of the tower. “And he cried.”

The camera crew laughed as Tom shouted a, “Hey!”

“Tell us one thing about you that we don’t know. Um, this is hard because I’m always saying stuff that I shouldn’t be. Um, I’m an Oxford comma worshiper.” You said, unsure whether or not that’s interesting enough.

“Oxford comma?” A crew member behind the camera questioned.

“Yeah, y’know, the comma that comes before ‘and’ when making a list. I hate that people don’t use it because then I get all confused. Like if I were to write ‘Lizzie, Tom, and Robert are going to the party’ and I don’t add a comma before ‘and’ then it seems like Tom and Robert would be arriving at the party together. But some people who don’t use the Oxford comma could mean that all three people were showing up separately so I never know. Y’know what I mean?”

The camera crew were all silent after her rant and Calum chuckled a bit to himself. He thought it was cute that you were so passionate about the smallest things. Ashton looked over to him as Calum admired you through the screen. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Calum secretly liked how much you talked about him.

“No,” Tom responded honestly

“Ugh,” You rolled your eyes dramatically and looked into the camera, “See, these are the type of guys you got to look out for: Un-grammarly men.” You joked.

“Un-grammarly isn’t a thing.” Tom laughed.

“Well if it were a thing, you’d be one.” You fired back at Tom.

“Anyway, who is your favorite artist right now? Um, probably Wallows, I love them and their music.”

“I was really expecting Calum Hood to be honest.” Tom shouted from across the room.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just forgot about him like that. I love you Calum Hood. I love 5sos.” You held up your hands into a heart shape and moved your hands from side to side.

You then dropped them and grabbed another block. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that people are actually going to see these interviews. Like, he could literally see this. Dude, I hope he doesn’t.” You paused, “Oh god, do you think he knows about my crush on him?” You had been mentioning him for years and it had never once occurred to you that he could actually see these.

Calum laughed at the irony of the situation. Here he was watching a video of you saying you hoped he’d never see said video.

“This is humiliating.” You mumbled though you didn’t seem to actually care, “Who was your first celebrity crush? Oh uh, definitely Andrew Garfield. I remember when I first watched the Social Network and I was like obsessed. My friend and I both watched it over 10 times within like two months. And then would continuously make Mark Zuckerberg jokes. But of course, Calum Hood now owns my heart.” You put the block on top of the tower. “I’m actually doing really good, I thought I’d knock it down by now.”

“Describe in detail the worst date you’ve ever been on. Okay so I was like fifteen right, and, well I’m not even sure if this counts as a date. I think he considered it a date so I guess it was but basically we were in the car, he was sixteen so he could drive. We were in the drive through, we had already ordered, and he started feeling around in is pockets and I was like oh god, cause I knew what was about to happen. He was like, ‘oh no i think i lost my wallet’, and I was like its fine I’ll pay. I really didn’t mind. I ended up paying, we got our drinks and without missing a beat, we hadn’t even pulled out of the drive through, he was like’oh here’s my wallet.’ I really didn’t mind paying for my coffee, I wouldn’t mind paying for both of our coffees. But him going out of his way to lie, and then not even lie well, was so irritating.” She placed the block on the top and picked up a new one.

“What is the most useless idem you’ve ever purchased? Um, I bought a seven foot giraffe while I saw drunk once.” The block was added to the top, the tower now taller than you. “He’s in my living room if you wanted to know.”

You grabbed the next block carelessly, immediately regretting it when the tower fell behind you, “Oh shit, well I guess we’re done then.” You said nonchalantly, looking at the blocks on the floor. “I don’t think I’ll be playing this again anytime soon. Love you guys,” You held up your hands, “Love you Calum Hood.” You winked before the outro began to play.

“She must really love you, Cal.” Ashton poked Calum’s cheek annoyingly, “She’s got no shame.”

Calum wouldn’t admit it, but as soon as he got home he looked you up again. He clicked on the same video Ashton showed him and scrolled through the comments.

y/nscalumhoodkink: MOMOMOMOMOMOM

datemey/n: Queen of Jenga

ashtonfletchersbitch: Y/N LITERALLY IS ME

5esohes: no because y/n y/l/n and calum hood together is my kink

noemptywalletshere: not only does y/n own this fandom, but my ass too

He couldn’t help but laugh at the comments no matter how interesting they were. But something in the back of his head kept yelling at him. She doesn’t acting like you. Shes just likes your music, nothing more. He sighed and clicked out of the video and was about the close his laptop when his cursor handed on a video.

Y/n Y/l/n foaming at the mouth while talking about Calum Hood for 5 minutes straight.

He clicked on it a little too quickly and waited for it too load.

“Calum Hood choke me challenge.” You stuck out your tongue and threw up a peace sign with an innocent look plastered on here face.

“Bro imagine if Calum Hood saw this?” “Oh he would definitely fall for you after this video”

The third thing to pop up was a tweet from 2015 just saying: #marrymecalumhood

“Calum Hood send me hand pics. This is a demand, not a request.”

Calum continued to watch the entire video. Normally, the thirsty comments would have made him uncomfortable, but them coming from you made his heart race and cheeks flush.

God, what was happening to him?

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another-tmnt-writer · 4 years

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You Fell From the Sky

Leonardo x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Prompt: okay this'll sound real dumb bUT- this universe!reader meets bayverse boys? like maybe reader wakes up in the bayverse and is very aware about the turtles? i dunno it sounds confusing but maybe it's an interesting prompt?

Note: I love this concept. I’ve dipped my toes in the water before, but this time, I’m going all the way. Also, I know you didn’t specify a turtle, but I zoned it in on Leo. I can definitely write another if y’all want more because I’m obsessed with this idea. <3

Warnings: Some language…

Word Count: 1.9k

“Okay, guys, don’t crowd her. I’m sure she’s gonna be disoriented, and-”

“Donnie, is the angel alright? It must have hurt, falling from heaven.”

“Get outta the way, Mikey. Go wash the pizza off your hands.”

“Could we give her some room, please?”

The voices echoed around in your head, which was pounding painfully. You opened your eyes and everything was blurry. You were just about positive you were hallucinating, because when your vision finally started to come into focus, you were surrounded by four very tall, very familiar mutant turtles.

“No fucking way…” you murmured, looking up at each of them. They were even more detailed and lifelike than they were in the movies. Which was to say, very lifelike.

“Not the reaction I expected, but I’ll take it.” Mikey smiled, shifting to present himself to you. “The name’s Michelangelo, but the ladies call me—”

“Mikey, yeah, I know.” You cut him off and he gaped at you, his blue eyes wide.

“Are ya psychic or something?” Raph asked. You stared at him for a long second. His muscles were impossibly large, his eyes just as green as you thought they’d be.

“N-No, not exactly. I…well, I’m pretty sure I’m from an alternate universe. Or something.” You looked at Donnie, who was furiously taking notes and way taller than you expected him to be, and then to Leo, whose arms were crossed, his clear blue eyes analyzing everything you said. “Because where I come from, you guys are fictional.”

“Woah. I did not expect that.” Mikey said, looking at Raph for some sort of reaction from his older brother. “Bro, did you—”

“Shut up for like two seconds.” Raph snapped, his attention turning to you. “Can you say that one more time?”

“You guys are fictional. When I was growing up, I watched your cartoons, collected action figures, read your comics…This is unreal.”

“Comic books?” Donnie inquired.

“Cartoons?!” Mikey’s eyes widened.

You nodded.

“So…you know everything about us?” Leo asked, a twinkle of amusement working its way into his icy gaze. He wasn’t quite convinced yet, but he had to admit you were convincing at the very least.

“I mean, not really. Kind of. Maybe?” You shrugged. “I know you have a bonsai in your room.”

You didn’t think it was possible for them to blush, but after that comment, Leo proved you wrong, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just about everything then, yeah.”

“So what happened, Donnie? Why am I here?”

Donnie straightened up when you addressed him by name. “Uh, well, I was trying to figure that out, actually. We were out on patrol and there was a bright flash in the sky and you fell from it.”

“Leo caught you even though I called dibs.” Mikey pouted.

“You saved my life.” You gasped and looked up at Leo. “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t just let you fall, ma’am.”

“(Y/N).” You introduced. “My name is (Y/N).”

“Well, (Y/N), I hope ya like the smell of sewer.” Raph chuckled. “If not, you’ll get used to it.”

***

The turtles spent the rest of the day asking you lots of questions about your world and the representations of them that were in it. You told them that the universe they were in was closest to a series of movies by Michael Bay, which, Raph and Mikey found exciting given their love of the Transformers movies.

Leo didn’t say much, but he was always in the room, listening. When night came, Donnie was the first to leave the room, retreating to work in his lab. Then Leo went to his room to sharpen his swords and water his bonsai. Raph went to sleep next, and Mikey stayed up the latest, playing Mariokart with you until pretty close to dawn. You’d almost forgotten that the boys usually slept during the day.

When you were out alone in the living room, Leo came into the room, holding a large knitted blanket and a pillow, a tentative look on his face.

“Hey.” He approached you quietly. “I figured you’d need these. It gets kind of cold down here.”

“Thanks, Leo.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “I really appreciate you guys letting me crash here.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least we could do.” He shook the blanket out and draped it over your legs. “If you need anything, my room is over there.” He pointed back towards where he’d come from.

“Thank you.” You smiled. “I’m sure Donnie will figure this all out soon enough and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay for as long as that takes.” Leo smiled and then added, “Good night.”

“Night!”

Once he was gone, you laid down on the couch and stared up into the darkness for a little while, thinking about the events of the day. You were stranded in the Bayverse. And…well, actually, you weren’t all that upset about it.

***

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you half expected it to all have been a dream. I mean, that was the only logical explanation, right? Well, then you took a look around at your surroundings and realized that it was three in the afternoon and you were in the lair instead of your bedroom.

Once you stretched and got your bearings, you got up and walked to the kitchen, where Splinter was pouring tea from a teapot.

“And you must be the girl who fell from the sky.”

You had to stop and admire him for a second. Master Splinter, the boys’ dad, a wealth of endless support and wisdom. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t looked up to him when you were young. Hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t look up to him now when you needed advice.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” You were shaking. “I’m not sure if the boys told you where I’m from…”

“They have, yes.” He nodded. “Donatello told me of the alternate universe you came from.”

“You helped me through so much when I was growing up. You all did. It’s really surreal being here.”

Splinter smiled and stroked his beard, that wise twinkle in his eyes. “I’m glad you found your way to us, child. We’ll make your stay here as easy as possible.”

“Thank you.”

“(Y/N), I made eggs.” Leonardo’s voice from behind you scared the hell out of you.

You jumped and turned around, laughing as your racing heart slowed back down to normal.

“Sorry. Do you like eggs?”

“I do, yeah.” You chuckled. “Thank you, Leo.”

“Of course. They’re on the stove.”

“There’s cheese on the counter!!” Mikey added, already sitting at the table. “I saved you a chair over here, angelcakes.”

You had to admit, hearing him say that in person did make your heart flutter a little bit. You put some eggs and toast (with jam, provided by Donatello) on a plate, sprinkled some shredded cheddar on top and settled into the seat Mikey had saved, conveniently located between the youngest brother and the leader in blue.

“So every day, you guys wake up this late?” You asked, still a little bewildered that breakfast was at three in the afternoon.

“That’s just the downside of living in the shadows.” Raph shrugged. “But it ain’t so bad.”

“Right, of course. It’s just different than what I’m used to is all.”

“So what do you do, normally? Like, in your world, I mean.” Donatello asked. He didn’t have his notebook on hand, but you could tell he was taking mental notes.

“Well, I’m a student. I’m in college. I read comics and watch movies, and sometimes I write in my free time.”

“Comics about us?” Mikey raised an eyebrow, smiling knowingly.

Your cheeks burned red and you laughed. “Maaaaaaybe.”

Leo let out a little sigh and shook his head. “That’s still so weird to me.”

“Let me tell you, that’s a two way street.” You chuckled. Even thinking about it was still almost too weird to comprehend. You pulled out your phone, which still worked, fortunately, and went through your photos, scrolling all the way back to Halloween. You held it up to show them. “My roommates and I were you guys for Halloween.”

“And you were Leader Boy, huh?” Raph pointed out. “Noted.”

“I mean, yeah.” You didn’t think your face could get any more red.

“Wait, Leo’s your favorite?” Mikey pouted. “Aww…”

“I don’t think it’s fair to pick favorites. I like all of you guys for different reasons.”

“It’s alright if you admit you had a crush on Leo.” Raph whispered, cupping a hand around his mouth.

“Alright, alright, enough of that. She’s our guest. We’re not gonna grill her. She just got here.” Leo stepped in, a faint blush on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t get the picture of you in a blue mask with little foam katanas out of his head.

“Right, there’s a two week minimum before we get to grill her.” Donnie added, grinning as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Aww, how considerate.” You laughed.

The rest of breakfast was pretty uneventful. You finished eating and then went out to the living room and settled onto the couch. Luckily, your backpack had made the trip over with you, so you had your laptop and some of your homework. Not that you could get online and get in touch with people from your universe, but at least you could get some writing done if you wanted to.

Leo wandered out, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, a soft look in his eyes. He hovered behind you for a few seconds before finally speaking. “Hey.”

Unaware that he had been there, you jumped. “Jesus! You guys are quiet, holy fuck.”

“Sorry about that.” He laughed, carefully sitting on the opposite end of the couch, giving you space, but still sitting close enough to make your heart flutter the teeniest bit. “And, uh, I’m sorry about them earlier. Raph specifically. I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable or—”

“No, it’s fine. Really,” you said. “But thank you for checking. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He was quiet for a few moments before he asked. “Do you believe in fate?”

“Until yesterday, I’m not sure I did. But there’s gotta be something like that out there for me to end up here of all places.”

“For the record, I’m glad you ended up here, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. His blue, blue eyes met yours. “Is it selfish if I say I wouldn’t mind if you stuck around for a while?”

“Is it selfish if I agree?” You replied, causing him to laugh.

“Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Me too.” You smiled and just spent a few long moments admiring him. The movies truly didn’t do him justice. Honestly, it was the truth: you wouldn’t mind sticking around for a while. For a long while…

Part 2

#leonardo #leonardo x reader #leo #leo x reader #leonardo imagine #tmnt #tmnt imagine #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #bayverse

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harrysbbby · 4 years

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Super Rich Kids

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe and Y/N are young and in love, not to mention filthy rich. But does money really buy happiness? Based on Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean

Words: 3k

Warnings: drug use, swearing, mentions of su*cide so please be mindful if this would be triggering. a whole lot of angst

Start my day up on the roof

There's nothing like this type of view

Point the clicker at the tube

I prefer expensive news

Rafe Cameron was an anomaly. Too spoilt to hang with the Pogues, too much of a delinquent to fit in with the Kooks. But he made do.

One of his favourite things was watching the sunrise from the roof next to his room’s large bay window. It centred him, calmed him. His mind was constantly racing, so seeing the orange glow rise over the trees, was nothing short of relaxing.

He would usually do this while scrolling through his phone, checking Instagram, seeing what party had happened the night before across Figure Eight. Fox News would send him updates, you know, rich people paying rich people to tell middle class people to blame poor people. And he supposed he fed into that idea, but as the sun hit his eyes, making him squint, he didn’t think further into it.

New car, new girl

New ice, new glass

New watch, good times babe

It's good times, yeah

Wind blew through your hair as you drove along the highway. You laughed raising your hands above the open windscreen, feeling the air on your fingertips. You could feel the diamond ring wobble on your finger, pulling your hands down to admire it. It matched your icy diamond bracelet, courtesy of your new boyfriend.

Rafe leant over placing a hand on your thigh, the cold feeling of his Rolex catching your attention. You could see your reflection in his glasses as you smiled at him. You leant over, placing a kiss on his cheek, before throwing your head back, whooping into the open air.

She wash my back three times a day

This shower head feels so amazing

We'll both be high, the help don't stare

They just walk by, they must don't care

The steam of the shower blended in the air with the smoke of weed, creating a damp leafy smell. Your soapy hands ran over his skin, washing off the dried saltwater. You grabbed the shampoo, foaming it up in your hands before reaching up to run it through his hair. He held your waist, securing your stance against him as you washed the salt and sand and seaweed from his hair.

He leant his head back, letting the water run over his head. He could feel your lips on his neck. He let out a throaty groan, gripping your bare ass. You giggled into his neck, hand running through his hair, ridding him of the rest of the shampoo.

He felt euphoric.

The two of you were giggling uncontrollably as you exited the shower, leaving puddles along the lavish floors of the main bathroom. You were wrapped poorly in the white fluffy towels, when you heard the vacuum cleaner whir from down the hall.

“Oh shit, the maid is here,” you cursed. Rafe’s bloodshot eyes lit up as hushed chuckles escaped his mouth. You tried to shush him, but your laughter was louder than his.

You made a run for it, sprinting down the hall, leaving drops of water behind. You slinked past the maid in the open living room upstairs. She didn’t even flinch as your white-towel clad bodies raucously giggled all the way to your room. She had seen similar scenes a hundred times through. She’d found the bottles of alcohol hidden in your room, or your stash of weed. She needed the money, she needed employment from your family, she didn’t care what you did. You and Rafe collapsed onto your bed, still giggling out of your minds.

A million one, a million two

A hundred more will never do

Rafe went home that night. As he entered the house, he heard his dad summon him to the kitchen.

“Hey son,” he greeted him, not looking up from his paper, “I transferred some more money into your account today, saw you made some pretty decent purchases.”

“Yeah,” Rafe cleared his throat, “they’re for my, uh, new girlfriend. You always told me how to treat a girl right, Dad. I really think you’d like her.”

“That’s lovely,” Ward eyes never wandered from the page he was intently staring at. Rafe’s shoulders hunched as he made his way upstairs, unsure his dad even registered his retreating footsteps.

He took out his phone, opening up his banking app, surveying the hefty total. His heart didn’t pick up like it used to when he saw the number rise. He felt empty and unloved, but as your name appeared in a notification at the top of his screen, he thought, maybe, he would have a chance of filling that void.

Too many bottles of this wine we can't pronounce

Too many bowls of that green, no Lucky Charms

“I never understood what this is called,” your words slurred as you held the bottle up to your eyes, squinting as your hazy eyes struggled to focus.

“Who gives a shit! It tastes good either way,” Rafe leant forward, snatching the bottle from your hands, taking a large swig. You drunkenly laughed before pulling him into a kiss.

Music blared as the party pumped around you. Topper, who was sitting on the other side of Rafe, rolled his eyes.

“It’s ‘mow-ey’ if you’re show-ey and Mo-et if you know-it,” he said taking the bottle from Rafe’s hand, pouring the bubbly liquid into two flutes and passing them back to you and Rafe, “so please, be classy.”

You immediately downed the drink in one go, tipping your head back as you went.

“Or,” one of Rafe’s other friends drawled, reaching into his back pocket, “we could do some of this.”

You eyed the bag of leafy green substance. You held onto Rafe’s bicep, as he grabbed the bag from his friend’s fingers.

You were slouched on the couch, Rafe lazily slung over your middle as you stoked his hair.

“Do you ever wish we had a normal childhood?”

Your high took away your inhibitions, your mouth moving before your brain could stop it. Rafe swivelled in his spot below you, glancing up at your face. He thought about what he had the other night: the void in his chest, the feeling of being unloved, but the feeling of doing whatever the hell you wanted when you wanted was so freeing, but was it freeing enough? He answered honestly.

“I…I don’t know.”

The maids come around too much

Parents ain't around enough

Too many joy rides in daddy's Jaguar

“Why is your house always being cleaned? How does it even have enough time to get dirty again?”

You laughed at Rafe’s question as you led him into the garage.

“You know my mother, she’s a germaphobe. One speck of dust and she brings the cleaning day forward a half a week!”

You opened the door to the garage, smiling as Rafe’s jaw dropped. He inspected the glistening gold, pristinely kept Jag.

“Now, my parents are out of town, which is the only reason I’m letting you do this,” you pointed your finger at him, before tossing him the keys. As he ran past you to the car, he planted a kiss on your cheek, swinging open the driver’s side door, “Please be so careful, my Dad will kill me if we do anything happens to it.”

You joined him in the car, smiling as he delicately ran his hands over the interior, little ‘oh my God’s escaping his lips. He placed the key in the ignition, hearing the car turn on, allowing an appreciative moan to escape his lips.

“Let’s take this baby for a spin!”

Too many white lies and white lines

Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends

Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends

You walked inside the party, Rafe’s friends immediately ushering him away from you.

“Look, what I’ve got.”

Rafe’s eyes train in on the white powdery substance in the small plastic bag. He gulped. He’d drunk and done drugs before, sure. But cocaine was different. Although its white colour glistened against the glass of the table, its darkness was encompassing.

“Babe! Where are you?”

Rafe heard you call his name. He hushed the boys around him.

“Later, later.”

He ran up the stairs, finding you and spinning you around, capturing your lips in a kiss. It caught you off guard, but you melted into it.

You hummed as he released you before capturing the sight over his shoulder.

“Ew gross. Cocaine is disgusting. Makes people so violent. Promise me you won’t become like them,” you caressed Rafe’s face nodded your head towards the guys behind him.

“Yeah of course. I would never,” he nodded, allowing you to drag him away, casting one final look at the white powdered table as you went.

It was hours later, and you still couldn’t find Rafe. He left you at the beer pong table to go to the bathroom, but had never returned. You weaved your way through the party, before his blue polo caught your eye. He was hunched over a table, a group of rowdy, aggressive boys surrounding him, one hand up to nose. You stomped over to where he was faced away from you, tapping his shoulder harshly.

He rose, turning his head, catching sight of you. He stood to his feet quickly, hastily wiping the white under his nose.

“Y/N, I—” he started, but your raised hand cut him off.

“No Rafe, I’m just… so disappointed, I really didn’t think this was you.” He looked like a scorned puppy, eyes wide and lip pouted. Problem was, he was meant to be your ride tonight. All your things, including your car, at his house. But very obviously he could not drive. You crossed your arms over your chest, “Give me your keys. I’m leaving. I don’t care if you come or not.”

He quickly fished into his pocket, handing you the keys as you continued to glare at him. You stalked away. He felt one of the boys hands come to grasp his shoulder as another laughed.

“Bro, your Mrs is mad!”

“She’s gonna give you the best angry sex—"

“Just, shut up!” Rafe snapped angrily. The rage burning inside of him was like nothing he had ever felt before. The heat rose, as if steam emitted from his years, his skin felt like it was on fire. He shrugged the guy’s hand off his shoulder, jogging to catch you before you left.

Real love, I'm searching for a real love

Oh, real love, I'm searching for a real love

Oh, real love

You and Rafe had just exited the Golf Club, walking hand in hand towards his car. It was your 6 month anniversary. You celebrated with an amazing meal, and Rafe even surprised you with an amazing new dress and shoes for the evening. You were super impressed he had managed to pick it out, but understood more when he said he had gotten Sarah’s help. Regardless, it flattered you, as he had clearly been paying attention as the dress was the same one you had eyed off shopping together just weeks previous.

The chilly night air hit your skin causing you to shiver. Rafe let go of your hand, shrugging off his suit jacket, before wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you smiled. You reached his car, leaning against the passenger side door as Rafe held both your hands, “I had a really great time tonight.”

“Me too,” he pulled your head up to meet his, placing his lips gently on yours. This kiss felt different than the others, more passionate, slower and more tender. Rafe pulled away looking into your eyes. He felt a warm feeling in his stomach, like it was summer, butterflies floating around. His knees felt weak, as he whispered, “I love you.”

He had never said it before. He don’t even think he had felt it before, ever. He didn’t get this feeling when he was with other girls or his family. He felt nervous, worried that this wasn’t the feeling he was meant to have.

“I love you too,” the anxiety pulsating through his body subsided when he heard those words. He pulled you in for another kiss and he knew. This was what it was meant to be like: love. Real love.

We end our day up on the roof

I say I'll jump, I never do

But when I'm drunk I act a fool

Talking 'bout, do they sew wings on tailored suits

You had reached the Cameron house, following Rafe up to his room. He immediately moved across the room, stepping outside his large window. You huffed, following him, knowing your argument wasn’t over. You sat next to him, bringing your legs up to your chest, looking out over the trees, looking as if they were glistening under the moonlight.

“You know, sometimes, I think it would be easier if I jumped.”

His voice was solemn, yet serious. He sounded as if it was something he had genuinely considered, hard expression staring off into the middle distance.

“Rafe,” you started, but he continued.

“I think, it would be so much easier to just end this life, start the next. See what’s in store for the afterlife. But then I think, would there even be a spot for a person like me in heaven?”

You didn’t know what to say. Your skin felt hot and your heart was beating out of your chest.

“You’re not a bad person, you just… do stupid stuff sometimes,” you tried to calm him. But his expression didn’t change.

I'm on that ledge, she grabs my arm

She slaps my hand

It's good times, yeah

Sleeve rips off, I slip, I fall

The market's down like 60 stories

He was stood now, but his feet were unsteady. He looked almost unwell, sweat beaded across his forehead. You stood slowly arms outstretched, watching as his feet shuffled. They took one too many little steps, missing one of the roof tiles, causing him to wobble.

“Rafe!” you screamed, reaching forward grabbing his arm. You used all the strength in your body to pull him towards you. It worked but sent both of you falling back onto the roof. He landed next to you. You groaned as you sat up, rubbing your elbows which took the brunt of your fall.

“What the fuck was that Y/N?” his voice was gravely. He shoved you away from him, as he struggled to get to his feet again. You stood slowly.

“What the fuck was what? You were gonna fall, Rafe!” you yelled back, your face holding a bewildered expression.

He felt the fire burning inside once again. But now the voices that had been drowned out from the sticky substance flying up his nose, had begun crawling out of the void

No one loves you.

Your father thinks you’re a failure.

No one loves you.

You’re not gonna get anywhere.

Why would she love you?

“I don’t need your fucking help, okay?” His voice was venomous. You could feel droplets of spit hit your face, burning as if they were poisonous. Tears welled in your eyes as he continued to scream, “I’ve never wanted it. You were a good fuck, but you don’t mean anything to me!”

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered. It was the drugs talking. He was Rafe, your Rafe, and he loved you.

“Yeah, I do.” The certainty in his voice was piercing. The voices were egging him on: you mean it, you mean it. But really, he felt it. Nothing meant anything to him. The void was swallowing him up whole and he didn’t want to take you with him. “Everything in my life is shit, okay? Including you. I don’t need you telling me what to do and I especially don’t need you for anything else. We’re done.”

Tears were falling rapidly down your face. His expression was so hard, it alone couldn’t have cracked your heart. Sobs began escaping from your lips, watching as he breathed heavily. This was not the boy you fell in love with. This was the shell, overtaken by his self-loathing and unfulfillment. You wiped your face, collecting yourself.

“So what that’s it?” you asked, already knowing the answer. Rafe didn’t say anything, the only movement coming from him being the heavy rise and fall of his chest. “I really hope you figure out whatever’s going on with you,” your voice was so shaky the words nearly didn’t come out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you hastily climbed back through the window, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.

The heat had subsided from Rafe’s body as he watched you leave. Your tears had dampened enough of the fire for him to realise what he had just done.

She never loved you.

You’re a failure.

How could anyone ever love you?

He heard your car start from the driveway, seeing the red reflection of your lights against the trees get dimmer and dimmer. You were gone. And you were never going to come back.

And some don't end the way they should

My silver spoon has fed me good

A million one, a million cash

Close my eyes and feel the crash

So you and Rafe broke up. You’d run into each other at parties occasionally, barely making eye contact and definitely never speaking. Over time you showed up with a new boyfriend, clad in designer wear. Rafe continued to hand in the corner, snorting blow and a bottle Moet in his hands, desperately clinging to the last thing he had left, you.

The Cameron money stood well over time, aiding Rafe and his addiction. But every snort came at a different kind of price. His emptiness grew larger and wider, fully encircling his body. The only thing reminding him he was alive was the pit in his stomach, ignited every time he got high.

At night when he would close his eyes, begging slumber to take him he would see your face. The wind blowing through your hair. Your smile. What it felt like to feel loved. Something he hadn’t felt until he met you and hadn’t felt since he lost you. He was empty and unloved.

Real love, ain't that something rare

I'm searching for a real love, talking 'bout real love

Real love, yeah

Real love

I'm searching for a real love

Talkin' 'bout a real love

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

a/n: I never really write angst jsjdjajsj but lemme know what you thought.

Tags:

@downbytheouterbanks @thesailbells @sexualparkour @maybankxcameron @mileven-reddie @nikki082489@treestarrrrrrrr @mynamessusan @kristinaxilliano @love-bean @lauraxwndrlnd @jjsthumbring @obxmxybxnk@lovelymaybankk @http-cherries @belledutchess @wicked-laugh @jjswhore @sspidermanss @fandomobsessedlife@dolanfivsosxox @whenyouregrungeaff @poguestyleskye @iknowrocknroll567 @kingdomheartsfan109@dangerouswhispersblog @hopelesswritingxd @marveloucnco @riverdaleserpent04 @yeetingcelery @babyhoneystvles@ravngers @k3nz-doodl3 @famousstarsandkelly @readysteadygo23 @finelinetrack @sha-nah @silverstarsandsuns@awkwardnesshabitat @annedub @a-wade @ineedmorestyles @averagxfangirl @shreyaodedra06 @silverstarsandsuns@jjmaybangme @kisssmefree @shawnssongs @p0gues4l @hannahufflepuff @lovelymaybankk@tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @softstarkey @kiarasflowr @drewstarkey @tcmhollnd @myrandom-fandomlife@jjtheangel @jjmaebank @masintahin @o-b-x @stilinskiandsuch @jellyfishbeansontoast @tessisawriter @cutiecolbsss@my-soul-is-the-moon @sunshinemadds @kisssmefree @certainstatesmantoadartisan @lefthandwritings @poguecollins@disagreeable-pink @tytheguyudontno @helplessquotess @taaniesha @obx-beach @thegeekyblondegirlwholovesstars@lcil123 @teenwaywardasgardian @sortagaysortahigh@jeyramarie @ellystone @classygirlything @marauderskeeper @rudyypankow @ssjiara @bluebirdsbluebells @lavenderpope @rretrophilee @kitluvs1 @outerpogues @maaybanks@maebanks @thelocalpogue @heyhey-heyward @popcsheyward @maybe-maybanks @pixelated-pogues @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @maybankdreams @maybankiara @pogue-writings @honeymendesx @faded-blue @smiithys @justpeachykeeeen @justcallmesams @danicarosaline @free-pool-trash @saturnspack @velyssaraptor @no-shxt-sherl@saphira1412 @raekenliar @pancakefancake @imuniqueperson123 @marveling-avengers @lus-shh@hmspxgue @winterdameron

#rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #drew starkey #obx #obx fanfiction #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe outerb #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine

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raysofcrosby · 5 years

Text

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW – T. SEGUIN

"𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 '𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺'." ─ 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐒

gif credit (x)

series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: just some swearing nbd

word count: 4,113 [ oof yikes ]

authors note: originally i was gonna turn this idea into a fic, but like...i have no energy for that. so if anyone wants it to, it can be a multi part series for seggy boy :) anyway, stop by and request something or let me know what you think about this–– ok bye and enjoy!!

"Baby Benn, I need your assistance." You looked up from your Physiology book to see Big Rig, otherwise known as Jamie Oleksiak, or as you like to call him– a big teddy bear– make his way over to you.

"She's studying Jamie, what do you need?" Dave said, never taking his eyes off of Klingberg's ankle as he continued to tape it.

"What's more important? My deathly aching shin or this..." He picked the book up from your hands and lazily flipped through the pages, crinkling his nose in disgust. "This migraine-inducing book."

"Give that back," You said, standing up and reaching across the desk, taking your book from his hands. "This migraine-inducing book is what will get me my degree, which will hopefully lead to a job you teddy bear."

"Still didn't answer my question."

You sighed and marked the page before closing your book and standing up from the small desk. "Is it the same one?"

"Yup!" He smiled and hopped up onto one of the stretching tables, holding out his right leg. "So tell me doc, does it need to be amputated? Am I going to die of this killing pain?"

Before you could answer, he was getting smacked in the back of the head by a green resistance band. You looked over and saw Jamie, your older brother, rolling his eyes just as he tossed the band at you. "If you don't do your stretches it won't be the shin splints that kills you, it'll be me."

"Damn Chubbs, I was just playing," Big Rig groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You didn't need to almost decapitate me."

"Oh, so I can go back to studying?" You asked, holding out the resistance bands as your brother, Dave and a few of the other players getting serviced laughed. "Unless you want to write this paper for me after your game tonight?"

Big Rig rolled his eyes and grabbed the band, looping his foot through it and starting to stretch his shin. "You just lost your spot as my favorite trainer in training."

"I'm the only trainer in training, J." You reached out for the resistance band and made him take more into his grip. "Keep it tight and stretch slow. You'll get the most out of it that way."

Soft snickering behind you soon turned into a burst of laughter and you watched as Big Rig's attempt to hide a smirk, ultimately failed. You sighed and rolled your eyes, not needing to know who the laughter belonged to. "27-years-old and still acting like a pre-pubescent boy with an underdeveloped frontal lobe? Could only be you, Segs."

Tyler fake scoffed, bringing a hand to his chest and looking at you with hurt eyes. "I'm flattered you've managed to keep my age tucked away in that big brain of yours, but pre-pubescent? I figured baby Benn would have a much better insult than that."

"Oh, I have tons of better insults," sitting down in your chair, you picked up your book and smiled at him. "Just none that your baby brain would be able to even begin to comprehend."

His hurt look faded and he licked his top teeth, shaking his head and laughing. "You'd be very surprised at what this baby brain can understand."

You gasped, this time holding your hand to your chest and looking at him in wonder. "You mean that you're capable of having knowledge in anything besides Hockey and breasts?"

You heard the snap of Big Rig's resistance band echo as it flew off of his foot. The other guys stared at you in awe before laughing at Tyler. You raised a single eyebrow at your brother's best friend, daring him to snipe back at you. But when he opened his mouth, Jamie stepped in your vision, picking up Big Rig's resistance band. "Okay you two, stop bickering like some stupid lovesick teenagers." He tossed the resistance band at Big Rig and turned to you. "And please, I never want to hear the word breasts come out of your mouth again."

"I'm almost 22 Jamie, it's perfectly normal for–"

He held up a hand and shook his head. "For the sake of my ears, just...please, no bodily mentions. I'd just rather not have that in my head."

You sunk back down into your chair, as he went to grab a foam roller. Before looking back at your book, you peeked over the top of it to see Tyler stuffing a heating pad into his shirt, holding it firmly on his left shoulder. As if he could feel you staring, he looked up, resting his back against the wall and smirked, raising a single eyebrow before tapping his temple and mouthing "big brain."

You rolled your eyes and subtly cleared your throat and turned the page, using your middle finger that you made sure was perfectly within his line of vision. He laughed and covered it up with a cough before shaking his head and leaving the training room completely.

It was normal, dealing with the chirps of your brothers' teammates. You'd been around them for the last three years of your college education, only this time during your last year, you were working alongside them. It was a weird adjustment, going from seeing them in the corridors post-game, relaxing on the weekends at a bar to shadowing their athletic training staff during practices and games. When you mentioned your internship, Jamie didn't even bother to ask you if you wanted to shadow the Dallas Stars Athletic Trainers. Mainly because he knew you were too afraid to ask. So he just went up to Jim Nill and asked if you could do your internship there for the season and that was it.

That's how you got your internship.

You were grateful for the fact that your brother was able to help you get your foot in the door with this internship, which is why you did anything and everything that your 'bosses' asked. Whether it was replacing heating pads, washing the covers for them, changing the water in the heater– any grunt work, you did with no hesitation. And they appreciated seeing you so willing to learn what their day-to-day lives were like when they were on the job. Eventually, you went from doing grunt work to being able to tape up ankles, help with stretches, almost anything except for stitching. That, you weren't allowed to do.

The boys took you in as one of their own the moment most of them met you, your freshman year at SMU. It was easy to 'adopt' Chubb's little sister, as they so liked to put it. And the moment that you stepped foot into the training room with your official Dallas Stars polo, that's when the real fun began. Their jokes about you being 'Baby Benn' never seemed to end. You were often victim to their playful chirping and of course, they didn't bother to keep the language clean of innuendos are curse words. They knew that they didn't have to though, especially since you grew up with Jordie and Jamie Benn as your two older brothers. Not only had you'd grown up knowing what the Hockey atmosphere was like, but you could also give it right back to them.

And man, they loved it. Tyler, however, seemed to love it the most. Whether it was because he was Jamie's best friend or he just took a special interest in picking on you, you never figured it out. Besides Big Rig and Bishop, you were close to Tyler. Mainly, since he was Jamie's best friend, but also because of all of the ways he's helped you out in the last four years. He and Jamie moved you into your dorm room every year since freshman year. When they were on long roadies, Tyler paid you to come over and take care of the dogs, though you never took the money because playing with his three boys was like free therapy and his house was only a few minutes down the road. And if inclement weather forced you to evacuate campus and you didn't feel like staying on Jamie's fancy leather couch, Tyler offered you one of his many guest rooms. Though most of the time, you just took the couch at Jamie's.

Tyler may be your big brother's best friend so you've got to know him a little bit over the last few years...but if there was one thing you knew most about him, it was his womanizing reputation about Dallas. Hell, around anyplace he steps foot in. He knows he's a damn good hockey player, he knows that he's not exactly ugly and he's damn well aware of all of the women who'd love to say that they spent the night with Stanley Cup Champion, Tyler Seguin. And he doesn't care because like any 20-something male, he's getting laid and that's all that matters.

Which, you guess is why the two of you tend to butt heads and chirp at each other the most. You can't stand guys who bounce from girl to girl and he's just an ass. Especially since he always joins in whenever Jamie rags on your boyfriend of two years, Cole. For as long as you've been dating, Jamie and Tyler have refused to let up on the jokes involving his red-shirt senior status on the baseball team or his involvement in Beta Upsilon Chi. They'd always sneak in stupid frat jokes whenever they were around him, knowing that he'd probably never catch on. You couldn't rebuke them though, because well...Cole kind of was your stereotypical Frat bro. But you got enough of the negative comments from your dad and oldest brother whenever you were at home, you didn't want them to follow you down at school too.

Your ringtone blaring from your backpack that was hanging on the back of your chair tore you away from your textbook. When you put it down, you noticed that the training room was empty and their warm-up music was echoing softly from outside of the room. It happens sometimes, you getting so lost in your schoolwork that you just tend to zone out all noise. And you weren't needed out on the bench until game time anyway, so it was no wonder why Dave didn't bother to interrupt your reading.

You reached into your backpack and grabbed your phone, looking at the screen to see that Cole was calling. Pressing the green button, you brought the phone up to your ear and picked your book back up. "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey babe where are you?" His voice was being muffled by the loud music coming from his end of the call.

You laughed, turning another page. "I think the better question, is where are you?"

You could hear him talking to people in the background as the music overtook his side of the call. Ignoring it, you took a deep breath and sighed, re-reading over a paragraph. "What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything besides asking where you were."

The music and sounds of people mingling muffled on his side of the call, making it a little easier to hear him. "Oh I'm at the house, where are you? Are you almost ready to head over?"

Flipping another page, your focus starts to dwindle from Cole and more into your textbook. "Um, no? I'm at the arena for work."

"What do you mean? Why are you at the arena?" The muffled sound of music doesn't last much longer as it practically erupts through the speaker on your phone. He must have gone back into the pre-game.

You pull the phone away from your ear and check the time. Warm-ups shouldn't be ending for another five minutes, meaning nobody should be coming into the training room or the corridor anytime soon. You pressed the speaker and placed your phone onto the desk. "I'm working tonight, remember?"

"Uh, no? You never told me you were working tonight!" He yelled over the music, saying hi to more people as he traveled through the house no doubt. "You're supposed to be here in like, thirty minutes, Y/N. It's Beta Ball! You said you'd be here."

"Actually, no I didn't," you could feel yourself begin to get annoyed as you heard one of his friends offer him two shots. "I told you that I had to work. I even printed out a schedule and gave it to you, remember?"

The sound of him gulping down two shots echoed over your phone as he sighed in relief. "You didn't give me a damn schedule, Y/N."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were telling yourself to cut him some slack since he was obviously in the midst of pre-gaming. But another part of yourself just wanted to tell him you were busy and hang up the phone. Cole could care less about his schoolwork, only frat parties, preparing for his upcoming season and then getting drafted.

"I did give you a schedule, Cole. I gave it to you on Monday," you flipped another page, "which was four days ago."

The music started to muffle again, soon followed by the sound of a door shutting– muffling the music completely. "This party is a huge deal, Y/N. It's one of the biggest parties of the semester and if you're not here I'll look like a total fucking loser. It's the damn formal!"

You couldn't help but snort as his statement. "It's not the biggest party of the year, Cole. You're just drunk."

He must be stumbling around whatever room he's in because you can hear him bumping into things and stuff being thrown on the floor. It was surprising how bad his tolerance was, especially for being in a frat. "You're not even a real fucking trainer, why are you there?"

"It's my internship for my degree, Cole. Some of us care about getting a college education instead of worrying about what to wear to the next sleazy frat party," you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head. "So calm down the roid-rage and enjoy your party of the year."

"Are you fucking coming or are you too busy being a bitch errand-girl for your brother's shitty team?"

"Jesus Christ, Cole it's not even a real ball!" You yell, just as the sound of a door opening and closing echoes around you. "It's literally that stupid party where girls have to wear lingerie and the boys just spend their time ogling over them."

A wave of green rushed into the room, coming to a stop at the table closest to me. They pulled their warm-up jersey over their head before you could even make out who it was. But the moment you saw the fancy script of one familiar Stanley Cup tattoo, you knew who it was. You picked up the phone, taking it off of speaker bringing it back to your ear as he continued to dress down from his gear. "What? Have you contracted an itch from all of the girls you've been seeing?"

Tyler looked over at you and smiled, shaking his head as he kept undressing. "Don't enjoy the show too much."

"Seriously Y/N, it's super fucked up that you're not coming tonight! You owe it to me, I'm your fucking boyfriend!" His slurred voice must have been heard from your phone since Tyler looked over at you again with a raised eyebrow. "If you don't show up, we're done! You can take your shit a-and get lost."

"I need service, please," Tyler said, taking your attention away from the phone call and hopping up onto the table in nothing but his pants and his pads. He was sitting up straight and had his hands in his lap like he was a kindergartner waiting for storytime.

"Sorry Seguin, I don't provide the kind of service you're used to."

He rolled his eyes and kicked up both of his legs, taking off his sicks and shin pads. "Not that kind, the athletic training kind." His eyes moved over to the phone against your ear and then back at you. "Or are you too busy?"

"Is that a guy?" Cole slurred, his loud slurping from his new drink grossing you out. "Y/N, who the fuck are you with?"

The annoyance from the entire phone call was bubbling up until you couldn't take it anymore. "Listen, Cole, I need to go," you looked over at Tyler, setting down and closing your book. "I'm busy."

"Are you at least going to fucking try and come to the party instead of wasting away like an old maid?" You raised your eyebrows at his comment, your inner voice telling you to refrain from snapping at him.

And yet, it was hard not to feel guilty since you knew how important these frat parties were to Cole. You sighed and stood up from the chair. "Maybe after the game, I don't know."

He didn't even bother to reply to your response and instead, just hung up on you. You pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at it to see that he had, in fact, hung up on you. "Rejection hurts, huh?"

You rolled your eyes at Tyler's comment and placed the phone back down onto the desk, then making your way over to him. "Is there any reason why you just performed a half-assed strip show in the training room?"

"Oh no, that's not my strip show," Tyler laughed, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. "You'd know my strip show if you saw it. It leaves the ladies dripping."

"Why? Because they pissed themselves from laughing so hard?"

In true Tyler fashion, he rolled his eyes and stuck his feet up at you. "I need my ankles taped and don't worry, Dave said you could do it."

"A little late there, don't you think?" You asked, walking over to the cupboards that held every material you'd need. "Or is the Tyler Seguins' supposed big brain, not able to support memory?"

"Yeah, well I got distracted by your brother and his fawning over Katie...again."

You laughed, taking the basket with everything that you'd need back over to the table he was sitting on. "Ah, so you've been caught up on the drama?" You grabbed a stool and brought it to the end of the table, resting a knee on it as you nodded for him to scoot back and extend out his leg.

He leaned back on his hands, watching as you began to tape his ankle. "At this point, I think their relationship history could give lifetime at least three new movies."

"Lifetime movies, huh? Didn't take you to be the kind of guy to tune in to those." You focused on going through the appropriate steps, keeping your eyes on his ankle. "Maybe Hallmark, but definitely not Lifetime."

"Wow, you know so little about me, I'm hurt. Besides, their 'sucks to be sixteen' marathons are great." He brought his right knee up as you tapped the finished ankle before moving onto his left. "Let me guess, you love the Hallmark Christmas movies and you've never missed a single one?"

You looked up at him for a few seconds before looking back down and continuing to work on his ankle, not answering his question. He wiggled his foot, causing you to look back up at him. "Seguin, I swear to–"

"Ha! I knew it! You're a total sucker for those cheesy, romance Christmas movies."

"For your information," You meticulously started to wrap his ankle with the pre-wrap. "It's a family tradition, at least between my mom, my sister and me. Dad and the boys wouldn't be caught dead watching those." You paused, smiling for a second. "Unless it's the Candace Cameron-Bure ones. Jamie's a sucker for those."

A comfortable silence settled over as you finished up his ankle. When you tapped it, he sat up and pointed down at the floor. "Can you pick up my socks? I don't want to have to bend down to get them."

"Why, is Mr. 3% body-fat getting, dare I say..." you faked a gasp as you bent down to pick up his socks. "lazy?"

"No," he swung a sock out at you, missing you by a few inches before bending over to put it back on as you walked over and placed some tape down for him to use. "So Cole..."

"Ugh, can we please not talk about him?" You groaned, putting the basket back into the cupboard. "I swear our that phone call gave me a migraine, so I don't need to hear your jokes."

"No, not that." he put on both shin guards before moving on to fixing his socks. "I just...does he always talk to you like that?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know, let me think," He put the tape down next to him before, getting off of the table. "Does, ‘are you fucking coming or are you too busy being a bitch errand-girl for your brother's shitty team?’ sound familiar?"

You stopped in front of the desk, looking at him and feeling your embarrassment start to take over. "Y-You heard that?"

He nodded his head towards the door and reached down for his skates, putting them back on. "So does he? Talk to you like that?"

You realized how cliche it would seem if you told Tyler that it was only when Cole was drunk, that he talked to you that way. But the last six months of your relationship had been a little hostile. Senior year was a pressure on both of you, but Cole seemed to be wearing it far worse than you. "He was drunk, what does it matter?"

"It matters because I have two younger sisters and I know for a fact that if one of their shitty boyfriends talked to them that way, he'd end up in an ER bed." He stood up off of the table and turned to pick up his warm-up jersey.

"Well good thing you're not my brother then, huh?" You joked, expecting him to make a comment back at you.

Instead, he looked a little lost in thought before he shook himself out of it, smiling at you. "Doesn't mean I still wouldn't put frat boy Cole in an ER bed."

You walked around the desk, plopping down into your chair as the murmuring of voices from down the hall echoed from the hallway. "Better get going, don't want to be late for the meeting."

"Yeah, I guess," Tyler tossed his jersey over his shoulder and headed towards the door, stopping in front of it. "Are you going tonight? To that party...with Cole?"

You looked up from your book, caught off guard by his question and the way he said it. For a moment, if you weren't convincing yourself that you were delusional. You'd think that Tyler looked...concerned or maybe even a bit genuinely curious about your nighttime plans.

You shrugged your shoulders, picking the book back up. "I don't know, maybe. There's usually some lingerie contest at this thing and the winner gets a $100 tab to some bar downtown, so maybe if I leave here in time."

You made sure to pay attention to the way he reacted to your response. His features darkened a little bit before he turned away from you walking out of the training room. You returned back to your book, only to be interrupted by someone clearing their throat. When you looked up, you saw Tyler leaning back in, a smile on his face. "Any chance I can get some pics?"

You threw the empty roll of tape on your desk in his direction and he ducked out of the way, laughing all the way down the hallway. "BYE Tyler!" You called out, returning back to your textbook.

As your eyes skimmed the words that your brain failed to absorb, a smile crept onto your face as you looked back up into the empty doorway. "No," you said, shaking your head and closing your eyes, following it with a deep breath. "No, absolutely not. Do not go there."

When you opened your eyes, a small sinking gut feeling took over when you looked into the empty hallway. Part of you wanted Tyler to reappear in the doorway with his goofy grin. But he wasn't there, and neither was his stupid request for lingerie pictures or his...amazingly stupid abs. What bothered you the most though, wasn't the fact that he wasn't standing there...but what he meant by his request.

Did he want lingerie pictures of the other contestants...or of you?

#tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin oneshot #tyler seguin writing #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars oneshot #dallas stars writing #nhl writing #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey writing #hockey imagine #hockey oneshot #ldyk fic #my writing

454 notes · View notes

dolantmego · 5 years

Note

94 and 95 with gray plsssss ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: Alright. This is way too long and this the first ask that I have ever done. So hi doll! Thanks for sending in! I hope this is what you were looking for? Sorry it took so long I got carried away. Also this is the first like SMUT SMUT I’ve done so hello hi. Who knew I’d be doing all these things for Gray first? Lord above.

Warnings: Smut? Language? TERRIBLE WRITING????

94. “Saddle up doll.”

95. “Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did we’re having sex. Right now.”

“Grayson you look like an idiot.” You giggle at Ethan’s words and nod in agreement, giving your boyfriend another once over. He’d forced the two of you to sit in the living room while he went to grab the surprise he’d been planning for the next video. The camera panned between Ethan and Grayson, who had deflated slightly.

“We’re going to the rodeo!” Gray imitates pulling guns out of side holsters and makes small noises while jumping from side to side. The whole ensemble–hat, chaps, boots, belt buckle, the hilarity of it all–struck you all at once. You couldn’t contain your laughter at this point and you start cackling.

“GRAY. THAT IS THE DUMBEST IDEA I HAVE EVER–” Ethan starts.

“ETHAN ITS PERFECT WE GET TO WEAR–”

“GET TO? GRAYSON YOU LOOK LIKE–”

“DON’T BE MEAN BRO ITS FOR FUN!”

“I’M NOT DOING THIS”

You slump back in your chair and listen to the boys argue. It was always funny, when one boy had an idea to do something stupid, the other hated it. And they would go back and forth and back and forth. But as always, lo and behold, a few hours later and the twins were decked out in the most ridiculous rodeo garb you’d ever seen.

Thank god you had chosen to be in the background for this video, because you were able to dawn something a bit more normal. I.e. jean shorts, boots, and a button up. The boys on the other hand–or Grayson rather–had gone all out. Huge belt buckles, colorful boots, chaps with fringe. They really looked dumb, cute, but dumb. But that was half the fun of hanging out with the two of them, they made life interesting.

It took all day to get footage of the boys running around and trying crazy stuff. You just thanked god that the bull had been mechanical. Seeing Grayson on a huge animal like that would have given you a heart attack. Not that both of them didn’t try to get on a real bull. As well as fail miserably on the mechanical one. You had been the one who had made it the longest atop the machine.

“What can I say gentlemen? I know how to ride.” You wink at Grayson, who had been secretly foaming at the mouth for you all day, but after that wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. He pulls your hips against him by your belt loops, and wow were you just now noticing how sexy he actually looks in that hat. Ethan groans in annoyance, and grumbles about definitely NOT putting any of that in the video.

The final activity for the day was the one you were most looking forward to, going horseback riding. Luckily not at the rodeo since the boys weren’t into sticking around for the nightlife part of the experience. Which made sense since they a. Didn’t drink and b. Couldn’t drink. Not that you were complaining. The whole day had been fun, but the crowds of people, animals, and food had started to really unsettle your nerves. So a quiet horseback ride with your boyfriend after the camera shuts off was going to be the highlight of your day.

Both boys had lost the chaps by the time you got to the horse ranch. Grayson’s had ripped on his thighs and Ethan declared that if Grayson didn’t have to wear them than neither did he. So you looked like a relatively more normal crew. Or as normal as three teenagers dressed in rodeo outfits with an entire camera crew surrounding them screaming “PEACE” could possibly look.

As soon as the cameras are down Ethan hops off the horse and hands over the reigns to you. Your eyes go wide at being face to face with the prospect of getting on the giant creature. Had horses always been this big?

“Saddle up doll!” Ethan says chipperly. Usually the nickname makes you feel better–much to Gray’s annoyance–but not this time. You look back and forth between him and the horse, slightly panicked. “Y/N you haven’t shut up about this all day and now you’re not even gonna get on it?” Ethan huffs and tries to force you up onto the horse, but you can’t do it. It’s too big. You’re exhausted. This animal looks terrifying up close. No thanks.

“Maybe another time guys. I don’t think…” You trail off and look up to Grayson–still wearing the jeans, button up, and hat–and the air in your lungs evaporates. The sun is setting behind him and he looks tan and perfect on top of his horse. And he’s staring down at you with heat in his eyes.

“Just ride with me.” He says, holding a hand out to you to join him on his horse. You walk over slowly and take his hand, Ethan disappears to return the other horse to the stables. Grayson helps pull you up behind him and your arms instantly wrap tight around his waist. “ Come on mama. I gotcha.” He assures before flicking the reins so the horse moves toward one of the trails.

Once you get used to riding the horse it is actually really nice. The trail leads back through a wooded area, the sun is slowly setting, and being pressed up against Gray like you are right now? Well you couldn’t really complain. This would fuel your cowboy fantasies for the rest of your life. So much so that you’re flat against his back as you can be, peppering kisses on his shoulders, running a hand up his thigh when you can, and digging your small fingers into his waist.

Grayson stops the horse in front of an overlook and slides off the horse easily. He turns around and holds his hand out to you and you swear you almost swoon. How did he look so hot like this? The goofball persona now gone, and now he was just Gray. Gray dressed as a cowboy, but just Gray. Being himself and knocking you off your feet.

“Ma’am.” He says in a gravelly voice, as he pulls you down off the horse, pressing you against him as he slides you down his body. You turn bright red when you can feel how hard he is through his jeans. This boy could go from goofball to, well, daddy, in two seconds flat and it always shook you to your core. He lets you go once you reach the ground, and tips his hat to you dramatically.

“Why thank you…sir.” You return the small playful language and give him a slow once over and suck your lip in between your teeth. He was sweaty and he looked like every girl’s fantasy. You whimper slightly, and that? That is what does it.

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip?” He growls, wrapping an arm around your waist and jerking you to him. He’d felt you press closer to him on the horse. Felt the bounce you had behind him. Your hands had drifted down to rub his thighs more than once. This boy is turned on and beyond ready to be inside of you. “Cause if you did we’re having sex. Right now.” And before you can even open your mouth to say anything his hand is in your hair, pulling it back roughly and he is capturing your lips with his own.

You moan into the kiss and that gives him the access he needs to slip his tongue inside your mouth. He tastes like the mint gum you gave him on the drive over, and vaguely of the cotton candy you’d shared at the fairgrounds. He tugs on your hair harder and his fingers dig into your hips. He loves it when you make the little sounds that you do, the pants and whimpers of want. You pull back to breathe and Grayson immediately moves to your neck, digging his fingers into your hips at bruising point now.

“Gray,” You pant, trying to get his attention, he hums into your neck, “Gray please.” He pulls back and takes your hand to pull you back from where the horses are to a tree on the edge of the trail. His tall frame traps you against the tree and his arms, his endless gorgeous arms, trap you between them.

“Don’t worry mama I’ll give you what you want.” He grins cockily and lifts you against his waist and the tree, you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist, a panicked look on your face. He chuckles again and runs his nose down your cheek lovingly, “Where’s my brave girl?” He rocks his hips against yours slowly. Enough so you’re eliciting those little whimpers again. “You looked so sexy up on that bull today. I couldn’t stop thinking about you bouncing like that on my cock.” He bites your neck and sucks the skin there hard enough to make you cry out. “But after that little stunt you pulled rubbing up on me on the horse?” He tisks and flicks his tongue before shoving you against the tree harder, “I just wanna see you take it.”

And with that he’s balancing you on the tree and unzipping your jeans and slipping them down your legs. You’re out on a random horseback trail bare from the waist down. And you’re begging him for it. He groans at the sight of you and you reach forward to help him unzip his pants enough to get his cock out.

Despite the fact that you’re dripping and Gray is beyond the need to be inside you, he still reaches forward to drag his fingers through your heat, swirling around in your wetness almost languidly. His fingers brush your clit each go around and you start squirming against him and the tree, needing more friction than he’s giving you. He chuckles and leads forward to get right next to your ear.

“Look at you Y/N. Squirming around from just my fingertips. You look like such a slut for me right now. You want it so bad you’ll let me fuck you against a tree, mama?” You nod frantically at his question and he nips your ear, “You know better than that mama. Use your words yeah?” He slips one finger inside of you and growls when you tighten around him, his cock gets impossibly harder.

“P-please Gray. Please I need you.” You whine, you actually whine form him. Nothing else has your focus at this moment expect doing anything you have to, to get this man inside of you. His finger feels good, but it’s not enough. Even when he adds a second finger and curls them inside you, you only whimper more. “It’s not enough please please I want to cum. I need you Gray.”

That seems to satisfy his needs to hear you beg because the next thing you know he is pushing into you hard and fast. Two fingers wasn’t enough to stretch you open for him and his pace is relentless. You’re sure his groans and your screams echo through the trees, and the nail marks in his back will definitely bruise tomorrow. But the way he feels inside of you makes you feel so full and tight, its got your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Rub that clit for me mama. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.” He groans, knowing he isn’t going to last for much longer. You reach down with the free hand that’s not wrapped around his neck and rub your finger over the hard bundle of nerves, your body tightens as that familiar feeling starts to wash over you. “Fuck Y/N you’re so tight. Cum for me baby. Come on.”

“I want you to fill me so bad Gray. So bad.” You whimper, and his pace quickens, he loved it when you begged for him to cum in you. You rub faster on your clit and finally hit that spot that has you practically milking Gray’s cock while you scream your release. He can’t take the sight of you coming undone for him like that and joins you, latching his mouth to your neck as his cock twitches inside you and fills you up like you love.

After a few moments of nothing but heavy breathing, grayson easily lets you down and you wobble on your legs slightly. He chuckles and wraps an arm around your waist before kissing your sweaty forehead.

“You’re so good for me.” He grins against your skin, and you smile back tiredly. “You’re a mess right now though.” You scoff in mock offense and shove him slightly. He grins and pats down your hair a bit before you smack him off so he doesn’t make it worse.

Gray, ever your sexy goofball.

#this is so much #I'm so sorry this is probably awful #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan imagine #ask #dolantmego #help me #sin #smut #ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader

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jcmorrigan · 4 years

Text

I don’t know if anyone here has been following the saga of my OC’s, which consists of me finally being brave enough to talk about them on Tumblr because what’s the use of guarding characters I don’t even have a manuscript for? And I wanna have fun. But mostly I’ve just been tagging fashion sets that belong to them, and as of late last night, too many prompts

I had been attempting to write a piece that introduces my villains in a SERIOUS manner by showing off the evil circus I plan to house them all in where each has a different tent they devote to an “act” that’s really their brand of villainy (dancing with deadly weapons, serving poison at the drinks garden, slaying innocent monsters for show, training horrific monsters from the deep sea), but I keep slacking on it, and I also keep adding new villains to the mix that would shake up the outline, so that’s stagnant.

But you know what I did figure out? Last night, I found a prompt that asked which of my OCs would go to Wal-Mart at midnight for fun. And my answer was that Alivain (the villainous leader, a smug young man who is not at all a Mozenrath ripoff) would take all his villain bros to Wal-Mart for a legitimate errand run, then turn around and realize they had all immediately scattered and just go “Oh no.” So here, I’m gonna introduce you to my villain squad by telling you what shit they would start in a Wal-Mart

Versafina is a weapons aficionado, so she’s gonna be looking for things that she can add to her repertoire of melee weapons. Especially small things that can fit in her hidden pockets...and not get noticed by security as she smuggles them out without paying. She spends way too long in the hardware section trying to figure out if a socket wrench is as good for scooping out eyes as she thinks.

Phantasia is busy giving herself a makeover in the cosmetics section, being the glam queen she is. She’s also opened it up for any teammates to come up to her and receive makeovers. She’s not paying for any of it either. Phantasia has also tested all the spray perfumes, then ran out of skin to spray, so she dragged Anastasios over. Anastasios is the physically oldest of the group, a rather elderly man who is about done with all these rowdy millennials (he’s just the character that’s there to say “OK Boomer” to), and he wanted to actually shop for the thing Alivain wanted except Phantasia is using him for more test perfume sprays and he won’t admit he likes smelling pretty.

Zangary is my resident monster hunter and also one of the sane men in the group and he probably ACTUALLY went to get what they came for in the first place and paid for it like a normal person, but no one noticed because no one expected anyone to actually do that. (*sweats nervously* Stoic monster hunter who wears purple and is shippable with the attractive sorcerer? I...I didn’t...it’s not the ADJL Huntsman no)

Dweixyn is lazy as hell and just found some patio furniture to collapse into and take a nap. Except she wears sunglasses everywhere she goes for the aesthetic, so the staff members who pass her briefly don’t realize her eyes are shut at first.

Belador wants two things out of life: to blow things up and to party hard. And because it’s probably not a good idea to blow up the Wal-Mart right now, he’s in the process of attempting to arrange several electronics and lamps to create a tiny pseudo-nightclub. He may also have hijacked the PA system for this purpose and is blasting techno.

Yridel is an angsty cyborg. She went right to the electronics section to see how many things she could connect to and corrupt. Eventually, she found a portable speaker through which she could just blast “Born Depressed” by Drill Queen on repeat, because it’s #mood for her, and just starts strutting around the store doing this to show off how edgy she is. Her snooty boyfriend who is usually narcissistic except when it comes to her, Lainnhartt, is following her and tossing confetti or an acceptable substitute in her wake, going, “That is my GIRL!”

Sherida is a monster who has a humanoid body, so she usually wears a bodysuit and a motorcycle helmet to pass among the general public. Well, tonight, she’s decided to take a walk in the mostly-deserted Wal-Mart with her helmet off so she can have a breather, but she came across some midnight shoppers who saw her paper-pale skin with blue veins, her lack of nose, her slit-pupil eyes, and her wide mouth full of fangs, and started panicking. So Sherida did the reasonable thing and began to eat them right there on the floor. Blood everywhere.

Lirian and Calpurniko are two teen girls - though Lirian is actually Fair Folk and has been alive for hundreds of years, but physically and mentally, she’s a teen. Lirian is a yandere and very exciteable; Calpurniko is a doomsday-device mechanic on a constant sugar high. So the two of them head right to the toy aisle to have a Nerf gun fight. Which is all fun and games until Calpurniko disappears into the hardware section for fifteen minutes and emerges with an augmented Nerf that can shoot (poisoned) foam darts at actual ballistic speeds.

Rachneira and Tomagi are also teens. Rachneira is a morbid Goth and also a variant of Fair Folk who is derived from spiders and therefore can spin webbing (and maybe has four arms? Undecided). Tomagi is an angsty sorceress who is mute. So the two of them decide to rifle through the cheap DVD bin, as kids do, and Rachneira keeps pulling out increasingly more disturbing horror films and stating in an ennui-laden tone that Tomagi should probably see them all before she dies. Then security blows by on their way to stop Belador from creating a mini-rave, they realize these kids are with the troublemakers, they turn on them, and Rachneira just webs her way up to chill out on the ceiling for a bit (as you do) while Tomagi gets angry and magically blasts the guards across the entire store, taking out several shelving units.

Diamandian puts on the airs of being a high-society man. What he is is a former manservant who killed his employer and usurped his fortune. He carries a white lace parasol wherever he goes. He heads right to the clothing section for the entire purpose of roasting every piece he finds, ripping it all off the hangers and throwing it to the ground because it’s all “Trash for the peasants!”.

Maraya is a pirate queen who is also an Eldritch Abomination thanks to an ancient tome of horrors. (Pink skin, silver or purple hair, the tattoos she previously had of nautical symbolism are now bright silver, pupil-less glowing eyes, stores a bunch of tentacles in her back.) She has a first mate, Soligeo, who has no eyes and many spidery limbs because he used the same book. Being that they’re pirates, they’re going to steal stuff, and they’re not gonna be subtle about it. They start ransacking the shelves and bragging very loudly about the fact that they will NOT BE PAYING FOR THIS. Unlike Sherida, Maraya doesn’t care so much about covering her monster exterior, and she likes scaring people for fun.

Kaxhalen is an intergalactic alien warlord (blue skin, silver hair) who acts like a stoic in the general public but is secretly neurotic and exciteable. He has sequestered himself in a fort made of bedding with several craft supplies he’s stolen to work on a therapy project.

Osmend Osmodias is a smug gambler, so he just sets up a shell game in the corner of the store and starts charging shoppers to find the hidden bean. When the guards try to oust him for soliciting, he argues that he’s not technically selling anything, and they can’t get anywhere unless they have the right charges on him.

Valencindri is this team’s token idiot and steals the toilet paper out of the men’s room, holding it up in triumph and screaming about how awesome it was that he got away with the (free) toilet paper without having to pay for it (it’s still free)!

Dr. Hope Lessness is a mad-scientist supervillain and sadist with cybernetic augmentations. She at first just starts breaking things at random to cause mayhem and monger fear, but then she hits the electronics section and gets distracted trying to wire together an iPod with a Fitbit and hook them to a drone mechanism that is somehow also a weapon. Her snarky robot companion, Mercy Lessness, makes several cracks about her attention span that she doesn’t dignify.

Orianelle is a biker witch swordswoman who likes to dress in leather shorts and tanks. She heads to the automotive section to pick up supplies to maintain her bike, but then some jerk dudebro makes a pass at her and she suplexes him into the nearest shelf, which causes an outcry. This somehow tuns into a mass brawl with Orianelle knocking ten men unconscious.

EDIT: I forgot Siersyrei on the first go. She’s a werewolf, but the joke is she’s more like a “were-human” because she defaults to acting wolflike even when in human form and refers to herself in the third person. So she’s over here literally eating dog food and looking for any sudden motions indicating prey she can hunt until Lirian shows up with a laser pointer to drive her insane.

By the time security has dispersed enough to actually be a problem, Alivain hijacks the PA system to announce “I’m going to bomb the Wal-Mart,” which is his code word to let the others know that he’s going to bomb the Wal-Mart. Everyone evacuates, and he dramatically activates a bomb that reduces the store to a column of flames as he dances in the parking lot victoriously with his back to the carnage.

Also, Zangary probably bought the wrong thing, so now they have to find a new Wal-Mart and start all over.

#my oc's #blood cw #horror cw #bombing cw #just villains being bros

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afictionaladventure16 · 5 years

Text

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist

Previously on The Pen Pal Project...

Warnings: Foul Language, mentions of sex and one night stands

Word count: 1,671

Chapter 2

Letter #2

October 28th, 2017

Julie woke up to her alarm blaring, she groaned at the thought of starting the day. Pressing the snooze button she soon drifted off to sleep once more.

“JUULLIIEEE!!!” She heard her roommate Irene yell throughout the hall. Julie groaned as she stuck her head further into her pillow, “ju got works to do!!” She could hear her roommate get closer to her room.

“Julie isn’t here now go away!” Julie yelled as she covered her face with her blankets, the responsibility of adulthood was calling her name but she didn’t want to answer it. All she wanted to do was go back in time and smack her younger self for thinking adulthood would be great. What the hell was she thinking back then?

“Julie, I swear to God! If you don’t get up this instant!” Irene said as she threw the door open.

“Okay, okay, mom!” Julie said sarcastically, but she knew her roommate all too well. Once Irene had to come into her room to wake her, it was only one more warning until Irene had to do the worst thing possible. Ice. Cold. Water.

Julie got up from her bed, “Happy?”

“Nope,” Irene said as she crossed her arms, “not until I see your ass in that bathroom brushing your teeth and you out of your PJs, then I will be happy.” I groaned as I walked passed her and into the bathroom that was across the hall from my room, “and don’t call me mom, reminds me of that guy I dated with a mommy kink.” Irene shivers at the thought of it.

Julie laughs, “that was a great week,” Julie thought of that week. How she kept calling Irene mommy, teasing her of the horrible date she went out, yet she still ended up in that guy's bed.

“It wasn’t for me being horny I wouldn’t have gone through with that date,” Irene said with a small eye roll.

“And that’s why you stay good friends with an ex that you can hit up whenever you’re horny,” Julie said with a smile.

“Or in your case, become friends with benefits with an ex that still head over heels with you, by the way, there is a rose on the table for you.”

Julie rolled her eyes as she began to brush her teeth, “I need to end things with him,” Julie muffled as her mouth was full of toothpaste and foam.

“What?!” Irene exclaimed from her room, she made her way back over to the restroom, “bro, I can’t hear shit you say with your mouth full.”

Julie groaned and finished brushing her teeth, “I said that I need to end things with him.”

“Uh, no duh! Should’ve ended things from the start! Red flags everywhere!” Irene expressed.

“I know,” Julie said with a sigh, “He’s just so....”

“Controlling? Sensitive? Manipulative? Toxic?” Julie raised her eyebrows at Irene, “I’ve got more if you’re not going to stop me.”

“Sensitive,” Julie stated, “he’s sensitives to these things.”

“So? Rip it off like a bandaid, he can’t always be a whiny bitch.”

“harsh.”

“He hurt you and you being the dumbass that you are, let him. To top it off you let him in your no no square after everything he has done to you!” Irene sighs, “I’m just being honest, you know I don’t like Ruben and you know I hate seeing you get hurt. I just want what’s best for you.” Julie knew that her best friend was right but she was just so afraid of how the situation might go down. But it’s what she had to do. Sooner rather than later.

“Anyway, I have to go to work now,” Irene stated as she sprayed some perfume on.

Julie got ready for her day, placing on her work uniform that consisted of a black tee and some blue jeans. Once Julie was ready she locked the apartment door and got into the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Julie heard Irene yell from the parking garage

“I thought you left already,” Julie said as she walked over to her car in the parking garage.

“I would have been if I didn’t have a flat tire!” Irene groaned as she hit the tire with her shoe.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Julie said as she looked at the tire, she sighed, “get in,” Julie then said as she unlocked her own car, “I’ll take you to work.”

“Thanks,” Irene said as she got into the car, “I’ll get the bus back if you can’t give me a ride home.”

Julie just gave her a small nod. The sound of Julie’s text notification fulfilled the girl's ears, “is that an Ewok ringtone?” Irene asked.

Julie blushed, “it was free, don’t judge!”

“Not judging... just curious,” Irene said with a small chuckle.

Julie rolled her eyes and checked the message, Irene, this is Dr. Hudson's receptionist, Becca. Dr. Hudson wanted me to inform you that you have a letter here and whenever you can to pick it up! Have a great day!

Julie sighed and typed back a message, Thank you, I will see if I can pick it up before heading to work! “We have time to stop by my therapist's office, I have to pick up a letter.” Julie placed her phone in her bag and began to drive out of the parking garage.

“A letter?”

“Oh yeah,” Julie sighed, “my therapist wants me to do this new project, I basically am writing to some pen pal.”

“oooooo, do you know anything about this person?”

“No, I only sent one letter and surprisingly I got a reply already, kind of anxious to see what they wrote,” Julie said as she focused her attention on the road.

“What if they’re your soulmate!? Oh my gosh! A sugar daddy!? The possibilities of what this person can be!” Irene exclaimed in excitement.

“An ax murderer,” Julie whispered.

“That too...” Irene said softly. “Hopefully not, though.... that would suck.”

Julie laughed as she pulled up to her therapist's office, it was a short drive from the apartment without traffic... with traffic, it’s another story.

“Wait for me here?” Julie asked as Irene just gave her a small nod. Julie got off the car and walked into the small building. “Good morning, I’m here to pick up a letter from my pen pal!”

Becca chuckled, “She’s so gonna hate that you’re calling it that.”

“Well, what is she calling it?”

“The buddy system,” Becca said.

“The buddy system? That’s what I learned in kindergarten!” Julie rolled her eyes. Becca handed Julie her letter, “thank you very much!”

“You’re welcome!” Becca said with a small smile.

Julie walked back over to her car, getting in to see an eager Irene. “Open it!”

“No,” Julie said with a small eyeroll, as much as Julie wanted to read the letter right then and there, she knew it was best to wait until after work. Give herself something to look forward to.

“You’re no fun!” Irene said as she pouted. “Now hurry up or else I’ll be late for work!”

Julie’s day went by like normal, once she got to her apartment she realized that Irene still wasn’t home. Julie sent a quick text to Irene notifying that she was home, something she started to do after an incident involving Irene bringing home a guy thinking that Julie wasn’t home. Julie got images of things she wishes to never see again.

Julie laid down in her bed, remembering about her letter she excitedly got up and grabbed it from her purse. She opened the letter and began reading.

Dear Julie,

My name is Chris. I’d give you my last name, but you didn’t give me one, to begin with so it’s only fair that you’d give me one first before I even tell you mine. Congratulations on giving this a try, it’s better to see how it went than to not do it and wonder what would’ve happened. Funny, I’ve always wanted a pen pal.

“HA! Suck it, Dr. Hudson, he’s calling me his pen pal!” Julie exclaimed.

Although they said this wasn’t that, I’d say it is.

“Me too, Chris, Me too,” Julie said with a grin as she kept reading the letter.

If that’s okay with you of course. Anyway, I’m rambling. Do you like working as a waitress? What do you mean by you don’t know? Have you thought of anything specific as a career? I know, lots of questions but I am curious. After all, we’ll be writing letters to each other, it’s a lot different than texting. I’ve got to make these letters worth it, you know? And you’re still young, you have your whole life ahead of you. I bet you heard that a bunch of times, but it’s true. Even though it may feel like you are running out of time, you’re not. Trust me.

A little about me, I’m thirty-seven years old, I have a wonderful career in the arts, not married but I do have a dog named Dodger. He’s the best. Like a son, I might add. I too began therapy for my anxiety, although, I like to think I have it under control, I still need the help. I probably always will. Whatever comes from this project, I hope it’s the start of something amazing. Something that will probably help millions.

Your Pal, Chris.

P.S. I personally like, ‘Toodles.’ But that’s my opinion. ‘Later Vader,’ is pretty lit, that’s what kids nowadays say right? Lit? Anyway, I am indeed a Star Wars fan so that saves you the trouble of having to ask to be reassigned to a different person.

“ha, toodles,” Julie chuckled at the last part. She couldn’t help but wondered more about Chris. What was he like? What kind of things he was interested in? Julie had all these questions popping up in her head and she only had one way to get them to stop. “Time to get to writing,” Julie said as she got off her bed and walked over to her small desk.

Taglist for this series is still open! Message or comment if you would like to be added in this taglist!

#the pen pal project chris evans #the pen pal project #chris evans fanfic #Chris Evans fandom #Chris Evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #chris evans x latina oc #chris evans x latina!reader #chris evans x latina #Chris evans x latina!oc #chris evans x latina reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x oc #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #chris evans anxiety #selena gomez #chris evans and dodger

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levyfiles · 6 years

Note

Omg drabbles! :D word: coffee. genre: fluff. tits out for coffee shop AUs lol. Congrats on the followers!

I gotta tell ya. I fought so hard with this one for what felt like ages, but I had the plot in mind and it didn’t want to let go so that is why A) the wait was ridiculously long and B) you’re about to get 2.5k of a ‘drabble’ lol. I honestly hope it’s all the fluff you wanted because you deserve it. Thank you for the prompt.

–

Read it on AO3

Word: Coffee

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2628

It was never a thing until their newest trainee asks him politely if he and Shane are dating. Ryan doesn’t mean to snap at the new guy, but it’s just that he doesn’t understand.

“We’re not dating. We’re friends– hardly more than that. He’s just a coworker.”

It feels stupid to explain. Having Shane as a coworker wasn’t easy until it just sort of was. Ryan had hopped in on this job, promised enough time to his video production class and enough pay to help him survive. Shane was the experienced ‘lifer’ as he called himself and he trained Ryan directly and Ryan had always been a quick learner.

Ryan picked up every bad habit Shane could deliver in the course of two weeks and once their manager TJ knew he couldn’t train any of it out of Ryan once it got in, he never scheduled them apart.

“Team Espresso or Mocha Men?” Shane asked him once; this was just after Ryan had broken his first coffee cup trying to get it to sail across the top of the counter the way Shane did. Now they were in it together; Shane had laughed so hard at the sight of the shattered cup, helped Ryan clean it up, stood beside Ryan while TJ chewed him out.

“Anyone who calls me ‘mocha man’ gets his shit kicked,” Ryan had sworn, half jokingly, embarrassed and wondering why the tallest coffee barista in the world was smiling at him like a loon.

Shane got this look on his face. “I like the violence in that. Keep trying to throw coffee across the room, little buddy.”

It gets easy because their bad habits have a rhythm. You’re not supposed to run the espresso dispenser while you’re heating milk but when two orders come at once out of a long line of groggy, grumpy people, Shane will lean right over Ryan and get a firm grip on the espresso handle while Ryan’s got the milk foaming for a macchiato and an espresso cup poised for Shane in his other hand.

“How about ‘Bean bros,” Ryan says one day, tossing him a fresh bag of cream with one arm. Shane barely catches it and TJ over by the register is wide-eyed like he’s gonna snap.

Shane beams at him. Ryan knows being a barista isn’t supposed to be this exciting.

Sometimes Shane taps a set of fingers against his hip to get him to move; there’s no time for words when you’re clocking eight orders every five minutes between 7 and 10 A.M even if the touch lingers and Ryan feels the touch burn until the end of his shift.

“So you and Shane aren’t dating?” the trainee asks again.

“Fuck off. We’re just scheduled together a lot!” he hisses because Shane is just around the corner arranging the basket of muffins and He Will Hear.

Sometimes maybe Ryan notices Shane’s apron is sliding off. Shane’s hips don’t hold up when the knot’s not tight enough and he’s sloppy with his knots when they first clock in at 5 A.M. Ryan doesn’t mind doing it. It’s more efficient to get the best service time if Shane’s apron isn’t falling around his knees.

“It’s Friday, baby!” Shane exclaims when Ryan finishes knotting Shane’s apron for him. That earns him a high-five. Ryan laughs because Fridays are the heaviest rush.

But it’s just… fun.

It’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t get it. Shane has to lean over close during the morning rushes; it’s easier to churn out five orders between the two of them, so they’re ready for the next order before it leaves the customer’s mouth. TJ hates watching them work but their service time sliced in half ever since they got their routine down. And Ryan knows what it means to get a routine when you’ve been serving overpriced coffee to a perfect rush of over five hundred commuters every morning for just over two years. So when Ryan bends low, uses the espresso machine, he has no complaint about Shane crowding him.

“Are you asking me out?”

Ryan hears Shane’s voice during his break. He’s in the back eating his second danish, checking his twitter and for a wild moment he thinks the words are for him, but he looks up and peers around a set of boxes. Shane’s on his way back to the front and the trainee (what was his name again?) ogles up at Shane with this wilting stupid smile. “Yeah, I kinda am.”

Ryan puts his phone down, watches and waits.

“Like…a date?” Shane says, goofy smile quirked and soft. Ryan wants to say something. Don’t look at people like that; you’ll give them the wrong idea.

The trainee beams back. “Yeah, figured you might like to see a movie? With me?”

Ryan doesn’t get that. You don’t just start working somewhere and start asking people out willy-nilly. He’d worked with Shane for more than two years– practically going onto three years now and they’d never… Ryan had never…

They weren’t even really friends, were they?

The trainee shrugs, lilting and a little too louche for Ryan’s liking. “Well?”

Shane takes a carefully casual step against the swinging door to the front, like he’s being called away. “I’m really flattered, buddy. That’s so nice, but I got my hands full these days. You’re super cool but maybeanothertimesorreee…”

Shane is gone and the trainee looks as puzzled as Ryan feels. And Ryan does feel puzzled, and, yeah, a little gratified.

Honestly, thought, you can’t just start working somewhere and just ask people out. It’s probably why Shane said no just then. If that was the reason Shane rejected him. Was Shane even attracted to other guys?

Of course the trainee chooses then to round into Ryan’s corner, stopping short at the sight of him. He looks a little put out and Ryan almost feels sorry for him–almost, until the trainee opens his mouth.

“Figures. Why would he want someone else when all he talks about is you.”

Ryan doesn’t finish his second danish. He doesn’t eat for the rest of the day.

It’s a mistake to ask TJ about it. TJ is a manager but absolutely not into the whole interpersonal coworker drama thing. He just wants to the cafe to look good, sell great coffee and pastries, and for the workers to show up and no one to be trained by either Shane or Ryan.

“Has Shane ever said anything about me…?”

TJ doesn’t look up from the deposit slips and money he’s counting. “What, like, in general ‘cause…”

Ryan steps in the office door and shuts it behind him. “I mean, you’ve known him longer than I have. Has he had a girlfriend or….uh, a boyfriend–anyone recently?”

TJ’s brow curves down, lower than it usually does and he aims a quick look at Ryan. “I don’t know, really. He’s worked for me for years and—look, honestly, what does it matter if he’s leaving to start his own cafe next month anyway.”

The news hits him harder than he would ever have expected. When you start a job just to make ends meet you never think about the people that are gonna be there. You wonder if they’re nice; if they’re gonna be annoying or rude. You wonder if you can work with them, but it never really hits Ryan until this solid shaking moment that you could just, really like your coworkers and probably want to break something because they could up and leave so easily..

And just never say a word to you about it.

He meant to come in on monday and act normal. It would have been easier to do that; if Shane didn’t think to tell him he was leaving, then why would Ryan need to confront him about it. They never hung out outside work, never really talked about the future. It was just on-the-clock rhythms and routines, expecting the best from the other person because that’s teamwork and…

Ryan knows acting normal isn’t an option when Shane slides behind the counter where Ryan is restocking the cups and nudges him with an elbow and a wink. His dumb way of saying hi.

Ryan drops the stack of cups he’s holding. They skitter across the floor. It’s only the two of them there. No TJ to yell at him, no trainee to make even a casual glance of Shane’s hand over his while they’re picking up the cups feel so intimate.

“You Ok?”

It’s a broad set of words to come out under the percolator bubbling and the hum of an empty cafe. Usually the cash register drawers growl when they close and click and people talk over each other, but the water boils and the freezers thrum and Ryan stares at the metal sink, sliding the last of its last deep soil brown dregs down the drain from yesterday. “It’s not important anymore. I don’t care…”

“Ryan…”

He’s standing close like the morning rush is in and the smell of him, soaked and heady feels more naked now than it ever did. Ryan is reeling.

“You’re leaving. We have one schedule cycle left and you’re starting your own cafe? And you didn’t even tell me.”

He finally tilts his head back, takes in Shane, arm over the counter shielding Ryan from view behind the espresso machine. He could easily be his normal statue self leaning down over the machine, waiting for the next order but Ryan is there, brimming with the growing ice in his lungs, a sheer feeling of bitterness and hurt.

“Should I have…told you?”

It guts him. “What…?”

Shane’s features are tight. He’s knotted his apron really loose today and the whole thing hangs off him like a lank drape of cloth. “I heard what you said to Mark about us. We’re only scheduled together a lot…right?.” His eyebrows quirk in his usual funny way and Ryan has to straighten up, walk away like he’s restocking the lids now.

Who’s Mark? The trainee? Ryan feels brittle inside. “If you wanna leave, go on and leave. I’m not trying to stop you.”

Shane doesn’t follow him to the lids, doesn’t help him carry any over. He simply stands there and Ryan refuses to look at him.

“I never thought you would,” says Shane.

Ryan calls in sick for the next three shifts, tells TJ he ate some bad fish. TJ sounds more concerned over the phone until Ryan reassures him that it’s not anything he ate at the cafe. The trainee can work for Ryan’s missed shifts; it doesn’t matter. No, Ryan doesn’t care that the trainee isn’t even a trainee anymore.

When he comes back, Shane isn’t there. The schedule has his name crossed out; he left earlier than planned to get ready for his grand opening and Ryan wants to quit right then and there but he’s got bills to pay. Their service time sucks that morning but the trainee-Mark–is doing his best and Ryan has no place to complain.

TJ does. He say it right to Ryan’s face at the end of the day, but he smiles ruefully through it, knows how he sounds. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself, ignore me,” he says, which is possibly the kindest thing he’s said to Ryan since he started working here.

Ryan shrugs.

“It’s easy to feel bad when you lose a good worker,” TJ murmurs, looking back down to the register float and receipts spread over the counter. “But then I think about how many coffee cups the two of you broke doing that thing I told you so many times not to do and I don’t feel half as bad.”

Ryan wonders when coffee became such an important staple to him that he’s still here, chatting with his manager when he’s already off the clock. “I’m gonna go, Teej,” he mumbles.

“Hey, Ryan, listen…”

Ryan is already almost out the door, could have decided he didn’t hear him, but he twists around anyway. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry I made it difficult for you two to date.”

Ryan doesn’t care about the job anymore. He’s about to actually turn over the first tray of cups he can get his hands on. “What?”

TJ must see the look on his face because he raises his hands in an affable surrender. “No, look, I mean Shane running his own cafe is going to cut down your time together, I know, but I had to do it.”

“Do…what?” His own breath feels volcanic. He wishes he’d not been so dumb about this, wishes he had Shane’s phone number or something.

“I had to make Shane promise me he wouldn’t take you with him. I pretty much begged. He wasn’t having it; he wanted you with him but I just couldn’t lose both of you at the same time.”

Ryan stuffs his apron in his locker. He doesn’t know what he’s angry at more; he doesn’t even know if he’s all that angry. Hurt. Yeah definitely. So many moments of quiet with Shane, lunch breaks; Shane’s smile and jokes and the way he just kind of insinuated himself into Ryan’s space, made it normal and Ryan thinks with so much inner cringe of the many times he’d leaned back for steady space, knowing Shane would be around him, passing him things, laughing when they were faster than ever.

God.

The card catches his eye when he’s just about to close his locker door. The hinges scrape back and Ryan snatches it up from under the folds of his apron sets. It’s a business card, raised font, a cute little cartoonish coffee pot with eyes.

Bean Bros Cafe, it says. The address in chocolate brown typeface under the curly silly script. Shane Madej. Owner/Manager.

Ryan isn’t sure what time the grand opening is, but he skips work again, pulls up at the crack of dawn just to be the first to step up to the glass doors etched with the same cartoonish logo in fresh paint. For all that Ryan had felt he didn’t know the guy. The cafe just screams ‘Shane’ in bold colours and climates. The cups look simple, and old fashioned, just like the music streaming from … a gramophone. There’s a huge stack of vinyls right next to it. A simple light bulb hangs above it all, giving almost the most light in the entire cafe.

And Ryan knows what albums are gonna be there before he approaches. Like he has a special own sort of mental stack of Shane facts in his head on their own special shelf and right as he takes in the sight of the warm wood floors and Shane is in all of it.

Shane is also in the doorway to the back room, staring at Ryan like he’s a ghost. Ryan takes a deep breath.

“For the record, I liked you for the longest time and you should have said something too. How was I supposed to know, you jerk?”

Shane’s shoulders sink, a relief in it. His apron is tied crisply and he looks like how coffee in the morning feels. His smile is slow, hesitant, but Ryan is already smiling back; his chest feeling empty and almost hungry in a way.

It’s what spurs him to cross the room, cross the threshold of the counter and grab the waistband of Shane’s apron, and pull him in.

“So, you wanna get coffee sometime?” Shane murmurs against his lips, huffing out laughter that vibes like cinnamon and their own warm quiet mornings alone in the old cafe..

It’s just as well, Ryan thinks. It’s never a good idea to date a coworker.

#shyan fic #shyan #skeptic believer #drabbles #shiphitsthefan

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killian-whump · 6 years

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OUAT 2x14: Rewatch Blog

Hey everybody! Here I am, once again, with a liveblog post for a Once Upon a Time episode! This one’s called “Manhattan” - which strangely enough, I had to look up to make sure of, because I could’ve sworn that 2x15 was the one called “Manhattan”, but when pressed to remember what 2x14′s name was... I could only come up “Also Manhattan...?” which seemed wrong.

Anyway! Let’s settle in and watch Manhattan Part 1...

Hmmm. Okay, so Rumple’s all “I wanna fight!” and Milah’s like “Oh, no, the war” and this just seems weird to me, all of it. I’m making that Fry face at my screen right now. Not sure if full of shit or full of shit...

Emma asking, “Is this the right place?” AND HE SAID YES. Like, how does he know?! That globe was a hell of a lot more useful here than it was in Neverland. Or did they just toss the globe overboard when they went through the portal? “Welp, we don’t need this plot device anymore.”

Hahaha, Emma. “Well, who doesn’t love a surprise?” Should I start the list, or is someone else gonna do it? Rumple’s face is hilarious. He looks like he’s thinking, “Me, actually. I don’t like a surprise...”

That’s a really boring title card, Once. Really boring.

“Back? From where?” OH MY BABY. Incidentally, I forget he’s in this scene every single time I see this scene, and then I hear his voice and I’m like “OH, MY BABY” like, you know, what literally just happened 2 sentences ago.

Aww... You vengeance-hopped-up bondage bunny, listen to your Dommes and be a good boy <3

CHASE SCENE, IT’S A CHASE SCENE

RUN, EMMA, RUN

CRASH!!!!!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH PLOT TWIST

I always did like that plot twist. One of the better ones, I thought.

“I am the only one allowed to be angry here!” Yeah, you tell him, Emma.

This face is great:

Kinda sums up the entire scene, doesn’t it?

I love the subtle AND COMPLETELY OBVIOUS change in Gold and Henry’s interactions now that the audience is thinking, “Oh, wait... If his dad is... and his son is... OH MY GOD.” A gentle approach as always, show.

WHY WOULD HE NEED AN ENTIRE TYPEWRITER IN A FANCY WOODEN BOX WITH A SINGLE SHEET OF PAPER THAT SAYS “I KNOW YOU’RE BAELFIRE” ON IT? HOW FUCKING EXTRA CAN YOU BE?!

Pictured Above: THE LITERAL HEIGHT OF FUCKING EXTRANESS

“...because Pinocchio told you to?!?!” One of the best lines ever XD

Oh, come on, Neal. Man up for once and just talk to your father. Geez.

Like, I know he’s pissed that his dad didn’t follow him into the portal, but all of this hiding and nonsense? Acting like he’s terrified of the man? Like, did I miss the part where Rumple EVER presented an actual threat to Baelfire? Because I don’t remember that. Honestly, if I’m forgetting something from S1 where Rumple threatened or harmed his son, someone please remind me. Shitty dad? Sure. Dropped the ball? Definitely. Worth running and hiding from for fucking centuries? You’re a goddamn pansy, Neal.

“Rumplestiltskin...” Oh, that’s not a creepy voice at all.

Oh, that’s not a creepy girl at all.

Oh, that wasn’t a creepy scene at all.

Can I go home now?

“The truth about your parents - Emma, you of all people should know how important that is.” Umm... yeah. That’s a really good point.

“Are you sure this is about protecting Henry... and not yourself?” Aw, Snow... Such good advice in this phone call. Also, nice sweater. Very soft.

Ahhh... And good acting by Jen in here, too.

AW, GEEZ, EMMA, SNOW JUST GAVE YOU SOME GREAT ADVICE AND NOW YOU’RE JUST GONNA IGNORE IT ALL. GOSH DARN IT.

Oh, look. It’s the mild-mannered mayor here to visit the amnesia-stricken woman in the hospital. There’s no way this could go badly!

Umm... Regina, I love you and I love your magical ways, but you could’ve just, like, rifled through her purse. “Magic always comes with a price” but apparently not if you just want to wave some objects through the air instead of, like, reaching in and moving shit around like a normal person. That shit’s free.

Like, there is just no reason for this. It’s pointless. It’s weird.

Library scene. One of my favorites :D Well, not this one. The next one.

Hahaha, this “touching” mother daughter moment is so weird and dysfunctional and borderline creepy. I love it.

Seriously, Hook, you’re so fucking impatient. Just cool your heels, bro.

Hey, Gold, here’s an idea. Maybe when you’re hiding your dagger somewhere, and your arch nemesis is a pirate, maybe don’t leave a pirate map to where it’s hidden for that pirate to find and follow. I mean, you might as well have left it in a toolbox in the garden she- Nevermind. Let’s not talk about this.

Emma: Don’t do this. There are things called laws. Henry: I’ll be lookout. :D

“I don’t think he’s listening.” Henry is brilliant in this episode.

YEAH, THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, NEAL. You finally manned up. Must've found some balls in the alley and tried ‘em on for size.

Aw, geez. I’m just... Wow. I really shouldn’t say anything about this whole scene, but... Yeah. Wow. I honestly can’t like Milah after some of the stuff she says in this scene. Sorry, guys. Like, she is literally telling her husband and the father of her child that the kid would’ve been better off if he was dead - and not just once, but, like... It’s like she’s engaging in a single-person competition to see who can find as many different ways as possible to say the same terrible thing over and over again, and it somehow manages to sound worse every time.

AHHHHH HIGH DRAMA!!!

I really do like everything about this scene with Emma and Neal and Gold and Henry and everyone trying to figure things out and/or hide things and/or... Oops, now it’s all out in the open and we’re all a big happy family fucked.

Ugh. Now it’s Greg. I really, really don’t care about Greg. At all.

Regina, goddammit, I told you to just rifle through that purse like a normal person. SEE what happens when you don’t listen to me?!

Actually, I totally forgot about this moment entirely, and now I’m laughing... Leave it to the show to put a “Why the fuck would you do this in this way?” moment into the show... that turns into a convoluted plot twist.

Son, I am disappoint totally not surprised, actually.

That map really DOES look like a child’s scribbles, though.

HOOK, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING TO DO WITH THAT... keyring? scissors? dohickey? I don’t know. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, it’s time for one of my favorite things ever!!!!

SUPER CASUAL VIOLENCE!!!

They’re both just so... so casual... and so flippant... and so... oh gosh, hahaha. He’s all upset and angry and foaming at the mouth, and Cora’s just like ~fling~! and LOOK AT THAT FUCKER FLY The violence is so ultra super casual and amazing, hahaha. And then they just walk off like Mean Girls: Storybrooke Edition and I fucking love them and I’d better rewind and watch it again. Hold on a second, guys.

ARE THOSE FUCKING TONGS, THOUGH?! why?

The books falling over like dominoes, haha, they always make me laugh. Better rewind again. I love this shit so much.

Old-fashioned compass, I guess? Some kind of... dohickey? I’m gonna go with dohickey, guys. I mean, it looks like a dohickey to me. Still, like, dafuq you think you’re going to do with that dohickey against two ladies with magic, boo? You adorable fucking idiot. IT DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A SHARP EDGE.

WHOOP, THERE HE GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOES

See, there. Bae had no fucking reason to be running and hiding from Rumple for fucking centuries. He just handled him just fine right there.

“Or what you did to me.” Valid point, Emma. Well made and- ARE YOU FUCKING LAUGHING, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!? Where’d that fucking dohickey go?! YOU ARE SO GETTING RUBBED, YOUNG MAN.

Well, what do you know? The seer who said the future was hard to discern clearly has now given you her powers... AND YOU’VE LEARNED THAT THE FUTURE IS HARD TO DISCERN CLEARLY. Shocked. I am shocked.

PLOT TWIST. The boy will be his undoing!!! Except... umm... I mean... he kinda never was, though? So, I mean, I don’t... uh...

Aw, fuck it. Let’s rewind and watch the super casual violence again.

WHEEEEEEEEE LOOKIT HIM FLY!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

#ouat rewatch #watching fairytales #2x14 #kw reviews #oc #ouat criticism #anti neal #anti milah #super casual violence #dohickeys

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sam-lives-story · 6 years

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#SamLives - Chapter 12

“...With Some Unexpected Additions”

[Previous|Next]

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

Jack gasped sharply and gritted his teeth, snarling and tugging against the green strings, fighting for his freedom. He had to get out. He had to save Sam, had to help Mark. But there was something...odd about the strings. With each tug against his restraints, Jack felt a little more of the fight leaving him, his will to rebel slowly draining away. His head was pounding, his throat was sore, and his shoulder was throbbing with pain...so...so wouldn’t it…

...wouldn’t it be easier to just give in?

The Nerf gun fell from his hands, tumbling to the floor with a clatter of plastic and a muffled thump against the carpet.

“ No͊w be̺ a̦ go͟õd̏ li᷅t̏t᷁l͋e᷊ pup̝p͟ét, an̂d̯ ğo᷊ t̥õ s͕le̗e̥ṗ. ”Yeah...yeah, sleep sounded so wonderful right now. Jack slowly let his eyes drifted shut.

Click .

“You let ‘im go right this fucking second, or I blow your fuckin’ brains out, bro.”

Shing .

“I told you scalpels vere good for more zen just surgery!”

“Oh, shut up! Take care of Jack while I deal with the Glitch Bitch.”

“h᷊O̓w̶ d̍A͇r᷈E̖ y̶OͅU͎?!?”

“Don’t even think about moving, man. Try me.”

Whatever hold Anti’s puppet strings had had over him was beginning to dissipate, the cords themselves no longer as tight and restraining as they once were. He could feel them falling away from his body, as though they were no longer attached to the person that had wielded them before. Jack staggered, groaning, and he felt a pair of hands lightly grip his arms to stop him from falling over.

“Easy Jack, easy,” a voice cropped up from right in front of him, a foreign accent adding an odd flavor to the words. “Slow down. Zose strings can really affect ze mind, even if used for mere moments. Take it from me. I vent through it once und it vasn’t a fun time…”

Jack dragged his eyes open, fighting back toward some semblance of control - and his eyes widened almost comically, a startled noise escaping him.

He was staring at himself. Or, more accurately, a version of himself. The glasses, the smirk, the concerned eyes, the familiar white coat.

“Sch-Schneep?!” Jack stammered. He felt as though he might just topple over from the shock of everything after all.

Jack’s eyes flicked upward, past the Good Doctor’s shoulder, to seek out Anti - and what he saw drew a sharp gasp past his lips.

Chase Brody, the trickshot master himself, was going head-to-head against the glitch demon, Nerf gun drawn and determination in his gaze. Anti was glaring at him with all the rage of hell burning in his eyes, and as Jack watched, he drew back his knife with the intent of landing a quick, painful attack on his taunter. Chase just shrugged and sighed.

“I warned you not to move, dude.”

Chase pulled the trigger, his gun still aimed at Anti’s head.

But it wasn’t a normal foam disc that left the gun’s chamber. It looked the same, at a glance, but there was something more to it - because instead of bouncing harmlessly off of Anti’s chest like Jack’s had, the disc collided with Anti’s skull and sent his image scattering into thousands of glitching pixels in a burst of bright, Nerf-green light. Anti staggered back, his image reforming, and when he did a deep, fury-laced scowl had set in across his features.

Oh, Chase had pissed off the wrong demon.

Anti snarled and dashed forward with his knife at the ready, but Chase had been expecting it. He dove right, rolling with practiced ease over the coffee table and landing in a crouch on the other side. He aimed again - had he even reloaded? When had he reloaded? Did he even need to? - and shot twice, hitting Anti’s shoulder and leg in turn. Both collision points exploded into static-filled distortions like Anti’s head had before, reforming just as quickly and with just as little effect as the first shot.

But it was still slowing him down. It was holding him back. It was hurting him, in a way, and Jack’s jaw dropped.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Jack!” Henrik snapped his fingers in front of Jack’s face, drawing his attention. “Vhere is Sam?”

“Sam–?” Jack mouthed the name, his thoughts still horribly fuzzy from whatever the hell Anti’s strings had done to him. He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to clear his mind of cobwebs. Sam...Sam?

Sam!

“A box!” Jack’s eyes snapped open and he pointed across the room, both his and Henrik’s gazes following his finger. “Jewelry box. Anti locked him inside.”

“Scheisse!” Henrik swore under his breath and ran across the room toward the box, his coat fanning out behind him while he left Jack to clutch at the nearby bookshelf for support. His legs felt shaky, his head still buzzing. Fucking hell…

The room around him was nothing but chaos, too much noise and movement for him to fully comprehend all of it. He caught bits and pieces, his eyes darting between Chase and Anti’s rapidly-moving forms, and Henrik who was crouched before the chair in the corner.

Chase did some sort of parkour move off the couch, one foot planting firmly on the cushions and the other pushing off of the wall behind it. He spun in the air, diving over Anti’s swiping knife and barely avoiding getting slashed in the side.

Almost.

Chase hissed and tumbled across the living room floor in a sloppy version of what looked like a practiced roll, teeth gritted in pain and his free hand clutching at his thigh.

“Shit! Fuck!” Chase hissed, pounding once against the floor with the fist still clutching his Nerf gun. He shot a glare at Anti from beneath the brim of his hat, snarling in response to Anti’s shit-eating grin and his glitching giggle. It seemed to spur him into action again, scrambling to his knees and bringing his red-stained hand up to grip his weapon more steadily, aiming again. “Fuckin’ bastard!”

Chase fired, the green shot piercing through Anti’s shoulder and drawing a distorted cry of pain from the demon. Chase smirked.

”Hah!” he taunted, standing up onto slightly unsteady feet and taking a staggered step backwards. “That’ll teach ya not to mess with Chase Brody!”

Anti snarled, clutching at his shoulder as its broken pixels reformed, this time a little slower than before.

"I w̉ou̚ḷḍn̄'̣t̮ b̎e̞ so̠ co᷈cky̓, i̴f̌ I we͛r̵e ỵo͗u͖, de̬a᷊dbeåt̘.”

Even from across the room, Jack could see Chase stiffen at the word. His confidence seemed to wane, the hold on his gun going a little slack, and there was a tightness behind his eyes that Jack recognized. Deadbeat dad. The exact thing Chase never wanted to be, and the one thing - whether it was true or not - that he regretted most.

Was that all it would take for Anti to get to him? One, two words?

Jack watched the man with bated breath. He could see the way Chase’s jaw tensed, the way his nostrils flared and his grip tightened, the way his eyes narrowed...and the way he planted his feet, training his gun back on Anti even as the demon glitched closer and closer, darting forward across the room. No, he wouldn’t be shaken so easily. Chase took two shots straight through the Demon’s chest...but this time Anti was expecting it. Anti was ready. He flickered out of existence just long enough to miss Chase’s discs, grinning wickedly, teeth sharp - but a third unexpected shot hit its mark.

When Chase had pulled the trigger this time, he hadn’t stopped at one or two discs. No. Again and again, unending, his aim shifting with each pull, he rained neon green ammunition down on the ever-approaching monster that seemed hell bent on taking him out for good. Shoulder, leg, chest, head, arm, shoulder–

Anti was hard to see clearly at this point, his image a flurry of exploding and reforming distortions of pixels in the air. He was speaking, shouting, something that Jack couldn’t quite make out through the fuzziness in his head and the level of distortion Anti’s voice had reached.

“Who’s cocky now, huh?!” Chase snapped. This wasn’t the same teasing banter he’d been using before, his tone more serious. “Eat Nerf, glitch bitch!” Anti was only steps away now, so at the very last second Chase dove to the right and landed in a crouch near Jack’s feet. He shot a grin up at Jack - holy shit, it was like looking in a fucking mirror - before glancing past him toward Henrik.

“How’s that box comin’, Doc?”

“Nearly zhere,” Henrik shot back over his shoulder. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and smirked. “Anti’s no idiot. Vhatever zis lock is, it vas made to be impossible to pick.”

“Plan B?” Chase asked, refocusing on Anti, who was finally regaining some semblance of solidity. “Or should we just skip all the way to Plan F-This and get the hell out of here?”

Jack had to admit that Anti looked a little worse for wear. He didn’t look any less angry than before, but a light sheen of sweat could be seen at his hairline, and the scar at his neck had begun to bleed. The battle was beginning to take its toll. Even so, Jack couldn’t help but gulp and press himself flush against the bookshelf he’d been using for support, as though he might be able to phase through it and hide between the books and photos and video game memorabilia that was kept there. Chase seemed to notice his distress and stood, planting himself firmly between Jack and Anti with his Nerf gun as their shield.

“Vhat do you take me for, a moron?” Henrik joked, chuckling. “Of course I have a Plan B! Zhere is alvays a loophole to exploit, I know zat better zen anyvone.”

“Well are you gonna tell me the loophole, or would you rather leave me hanging while I’m facing down a murderous computer virus?”

“Oh, quit your vhining,” Henrik muttered. He turned back to the jewelry box, from which Jack could hear quiet squeaks and movement from Sam. Sam was okay. He was just...trapped. “I’m removing ze hinges instead. Just keep him distracted until I can–”

“G̈҉e̦͍᷁Ť o̭Ȗt̙ o̵̹̦F͔ m̵͕Y ͘͜wA̷̵y᷀!”

Anti had finally managed to reform fully, appearing rather suddenly right in front of Chase. Wide-eyed, gasping sharply, Chase brought his gun up to fire again – but Anti was faster. He grabbed Chase’s wrist and yanked harshly to the side, twisting Chase’s arm roughly and drawing a pained shout from the man.

“E̶no̻u͙gh̫ wi̅t̆h͗ y͜òu̸r pLa̰S̶t̙I̼c͐ t͠Oy̦S͑. Fi᷀r᷊s͖t M̤a̅r̠k̻ip̮l͊ie᷁r̝, th͛ên͖ J̼a̓c̲k͂...a᷊n᷇d́ nͅö́w̔ ẙo͉u . I’m᷇ s͍I̯c̅K oF̈́ i͛T!”

A flurry of confusion crossed Jack’s mind. Mark…? Mark had never used a Nerf gun around Anti. Hell, he hadn’t even met Anti. Had he? But...his musings could wait. Anti wasn’t playing games, not anymore. The Nerf gun clattered the ground, and as Chase grit his teeth, Anti’s mouth twisted into a sick smile.

He had the upper hand now, and he wasn’t about to let it go.

Anti’s grip tightened and he wrenched Chase away from his protective position in front of Jack, sending Chase tumbling across the ground and out of his way. The space between Jack and Anti seemed to vanish in an instant and Jack’s vision was filled with the sharp, angry grin of a dark-eyed demon. A hand - a tight, painful, semi-solid hand - closed around Jack’s throat, and he could have sworn he felt his heart stop as fear flooded his system.

Not again. Not again. Please, not again…

White spots danced in the corner of his vision, blurring the edges of Anti’s face, due in part to fear alone. He knew what Anti was doing, now. Anti didn’t want him dead. He wanted him under his control. He wanted to take over. And if he lost consciousness, if he wasn’t awake to fight against that control, it would be so easy, too easy, for Anti to...to...what? What was the end goal here?

Jack couldn’t even think straight anymore, his thoughts a fuzzy mess of static. He brought a hand up to grip feebly at Anti’s wrist, the other reaching out to push at the glitch’s chest, his actions weak and sluggish. Distant words floated through his mind, so near yet so far away. He couldn’t focus enough to figure out who was saying them, or how real they were.

“Doc, c’mon! Hurry up! He’s not letting me get close enough to–”

“I know, I know! I’m almost zhere, just one more–”

“No, I ẖa͗v̶e m̪ůch... ͛mùch᷆ b᷆i͈g͗g᷄er p̓lan̶s᷉ foͥr᷆ yõu͕, Jaͅc̻k…”

Not enough air, can’t breath, it hurts it hurtsithurtsithurts–

‘Anti you gotta stop! Please!’

Sam’s voice rang through the room, and a blur of green crossed in front of Jack’s vision. The grip around his throat went slack, not leaving completely but giving him enough room to fucking breathe. He gulped down air like it was the sweetest thing he had tasted, and when he refocussed on the scene before him, he saw Sam sitting on Anti’s shoulder. His little eye was full of emotion, pleading quietly with all the adorable sadness of a kicked puppy. And Anti–

..Jack almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. If he didn’t know any better, he might just go so far as to say there was a softness in the way Anti was looking down at the little eyeball, an odd sort of affection and guilt that couldn’t possibly be real. There was no way.

‘Please don’t do this,’ Sam was saying quietly, a shaking unsteadiness to his word. ‘Don’t hurt Jack. I love him very much and I need him, and he...I don’t like seeing him get hurt. It makes me sad, and I...I don’t wanna lose my D...family. He’s my family. So...so please? Let him go?’

Click .

“Just listen to the kid, man.” Chase had recovered his Nerf gun and was standing in the middle of the room, his aim trained on the back of Anti’s head. “Don’t make him cry.”

“You’re outnumbered.” Henrik this time, standing just off Chase’s shoulder with his scalpel in hand, tightening the blade where it sat in the handle, stern eyes peering over his glasses at the pair. “Zhere are four of us, und only one of you. Zat could change, ze longer you’re here. You’re already vorn out, I can see it...and who knows who else might show up next…?”

Jack could see a vein in Anti’s neck pulsing, his jaw tight and eyes narrowed. For a moment, Jack thought the demon might turn them down, might defy them all and go on with his plan anyway. But then Anti’s eyes fell on Sam again...and something in his expression changed. He snarled and shoved away from the bookshelf, leaving Jack to slouch against it in utter-fucking-relief before glitching away in a flurry of static, electric sparks, and distorted pixels. Sam was left tumbling down from where Anti’s shoulder had been, barely catching himself in the air before hitting the carpet.

“T᷊hi̘s̴ i᷁sn't̠ t̔h͏e l͟a͚s̏t͗ y͚oͅủ'l̙l᷁ s͎e̐e̹ őf̆ m͚e̦.”

With those final words the tension in the room dissipated rather suddenly, and Jack slid down to the floor to sit back against the bookcase and catch his breath. His throat was on fire and he coughed, wincing, trying to swallow in an attempt to sooth the renewed soreness. It didn’t really help.

‘Jack!’

Before Jack knew what was happening, he was bombarded by a tiny green projectile, Sam nuzzling up against his cheek and ‘cuddling’ every part of Jack’s face that he could reach.

“I’m–” Oh, god his throat hurt. Jack winced again and brought up a hand to catch the overactive eyeball, tugging him gently by the tail until he was floating where Jack could see him. He smiled weakly, and this time he let his thoughts speak for him.

‘I’m okay, Sam.’ He smiled softly. ‘I’ll be fine, thanks to you. You saved me, buddy. You’re so, so brave…’

Sam giggled quietly at the compliment, his frantic movements slowing for the moment. Jack could still feel the worry that Sam was feeling, a tiny beacon of distress in the back of his mind...but it wasn’t quite so strong as it had been before. He let Sam go and the little eyeball immediately snuggled up against Jack’s chest where he could feel his guardian’s heartbeat, strong as ever if not a little rapid.

“Not to interrupt zis wunderbar little moment,” Henrik spoke up. “But I believe zhere is somebody else ve should be helping?”

‘Oh, yeah! Where’s Mark and Tim?’

It was as if an electric shock had jolted him as the realization struck.

“Dark!” Jack’s words came out pained, hoarse, wheezy, his voice not all there. He winced and gritted his teeth, struggling to his feet and fighting past the flames in his throat. “Dark... ngh ...h-he’s outside. Mark went...car. The car.”

Chase and Henrik exchanged a look, and Chase nodded.

“I’m on it.”

He was out the door before Jack had even found his footing. Jack made to follow him, more than just a little worried about his best friend, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him where he stood.

“Nein, you’re not going anyvhere,” Henrik scolded, shaking his head. He guided Jack over to the couch, ignoring his protesting gestures and looks, and forced him down onto it. “You’re injured, und I’m not about to let you go running off into anozher fight so quickly. God, you’re just like Jackie…”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, remembered his throat, and thought better of it in favor of flipping off Henrik with all the impudence of a bratty teenager. The good doctor huffed and sat on the coffee table across from Jack, shaking his head.

“Chase can handle himself, Jack. I trust him vith zis. Ja?” He pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned forward toward his patient. “Now...vhere vere you injured…?”

Mark’s head was pounding, his eyes screwed shut and his nails clutching at his scalp so tightly he couldn’t tell if he had broken the skin or not. Images rushed past in his mind’s eye, rapid and flashing and horrifying all at once.

It would be enough to drive anyone mad.

“Have you given up yet?”

Dark’s voice echoed against the inside of his skull, drawing a pained whimper from Mark, who had yet to change positions from when he had curled up in a ball on his knees at the start of it all. It’s not real , he kept reminding himself, even as he saw Amy’s pained, pleading eyes staring back at him from his own imagination. It’s not real, and it will never happen.

It was the only thing holding him together at this point, that and the thought that somewhere inside the apartment, Jack was counting on him, counting on his help. He needed to fight this, fight back.

Think of something happy.

The little idea that popped into his head sounded remarkably like Tim, which wasn’t too much of a surprise really. Tim was a voice of wonderful positivity in his life, a small beacon of cheerfulness that he could always depend on to brighten his day. So to say that his internal positivity was voiced by the little box? It made complete sense.

Think of something happy .

Himself and Amy, going out for ice cream. Ethan and Tyler, the three of them, laughing through their lines in a short film. A take for the blooper reel, clearly. Kathryn’s teasing remarks. Chica, giving him happy puppy kisses. Himself and Jack, laughing over Spaceballs and Sea of Thieves, acting like idiots and loving every second of it.

Kissing Amy goodnight.

It was helping. It wasn’t lightening the pressure by a lot, but holy shit was it helping. Mark felt some semblance of clarity begin to return to his mind, regaining a sense of awareness that had been lost to him in the sudden onslaught of Dark’s mental attack.

Mark lifted his head slightly, trying to locate Tim somewhere against the concrete backdrop the driveway provided. Instead, dark polished shoes came into his view, the ground crunching ever-so-slightly beneath their soles, and Mark stiffened. He saw the man - no, he wasn’t a man, he was a demon - crouch before him, watching him. Watching. Observing.

“Trying to fight back, are you?” That voice again, smooth and deep and haunting and charming all at once. Echoing. Looping. Belittling. “I’m surprised...and here I thought a spineless, self-serving, self-worshiping monster like you, wouldn’t have enough humanity left in him to find any light in such a dark–”

“Sir?”

Another pair of shoes had appeared near Dark, just beyond him, these ones dark grey sneakers. They were neat, crisp, unworn in any way...and Mark had a sinking feeling he knew who this new arrival might be.

“What is it, Google? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Mark hated being right sometimes.

“Antisepticeye has vacated the premises.”

Mark froze.

“He would like to inform you that issues arose and things did not go according to plan. There were...as he said, “more players on the board” that he had not anticipated. Anti would like to discuss this matter in more detail, but for tonight, he is no longer in need of our assistance.”

A long pause followed the android’s words, and Mark felt both relief and heart-stopping anticipation in that moment. Anti was gone. Jack was okay, probably. But...what did that mean for him? Would Dark leave, just like that? Or–?

“Pity.” The word stopped Mark’s careening train of thought in an instant. “And here I was hoping I’d be able to break our friend Mark here before the night was out. Ah, well...perhaps another time .”

The pressure in his mind vanished in an instant, leaving Mark to gasp sharply and run his hands through his hair with closed eyes. The relief was absolutely monumental. The vice that had been keeping him in constant pain was gone, and all that remained was a throbbing headache that Mark was sure he could alleviate with some Advil. He sat up, slowly, his gaze dragging upward until both Darkiplier and Google were fully in his sights.

It was like going to a wax museum, where all the wax figures were supposed to be you. They all looked pretty damn close, but there was something... off about them, because the weren’t exact copies.

Plus the fact that one of those wax figures was actually an android, and the other made it look like you were staring through red-n-blue 3D glasses, and neither of the wax figures was actually made of wax…

...yeah, okay, maybe Dark had screwed up his head more than he’d first assumed.

“Is it wise to simply leave him behind as he is?”

“What damage could he possibly do?” Dark quirked an eyebrow at the android. “He knew I existed beforehand; it wouldn’t take a genius to assume others have surfaced as well. This changes nothing . Besides...it isn’t as if we can’t find him again after this evening.”

Dark eyes that held a sinister promise locked on Mark’s, and a shiver went down the man’s spine.

“We have eyes everywhere. He can’t hide, not from us.”

Pounding, running footsteps interrupted what Mark was sure would have been a rather chilling closure. (As if Dark’s last statement hadn’t been chilling enough already.) All three heads whipped around to see Jack bolting for the driveway, the Nerf gun Mark had been playing with all week held tight in his grip. With a cocky grin and more determination than Mark thought was fitting for such an action, Jack aimed his weapon at Dark and cocked his head to the side.

“Game over, Edgelord,” he taunted. Something about the way he was acting, the way he was talking , made Mark do a double-take. “Your homeboy Anti just ran off with his tail between his legs. I think it’s high time you did the same.”

Mark squinted at his friend. When the hell had Jack had time to change his clothes…?

“Should I neutralize him, sir?” Google’s eyes had taken on a red hue, the logo on his shirt glowing brighter than before, but Dark held up a hand to stop his colleague.

“That won’t be necessary, Google.” Dark folded his hands behind his back, smirking at Jack and casting a humorous glance toward the toy he was wielding. “As it is, my friend and I were already on our way out. No need for any further casualties. Not this time.”

Jack nodded to Google, not yet lowering his gun.

“Your Brobot seems to think otherwise.”

“Don’t mind him. It’s just in his programming.” Dark cast a sideways look of contempt toward Mark, still kneeling on the ground, and his lip curled in disgust. “Until next time, old friend. ”

Then both Dark and Google vanished into wisps of black and grey smoke, leaving no trace behind, no hint that they had ever been there at all.

“Oh thank fuck ...”

Mark groaned and dragged both hands over his face, rubbing the worry lines away and trying to massage his headache into non-existence. He heard footsteps approaching him, but they didn’t quite reach him. Instead he heard Jack veer a little to the left and stop there, an odd sound of plastic-on-plastic reaching his ears. When he let his hands fall into his lap and opened his eyes he realized what it was.

Jack had clipped the Nerf gun into a holster attached along the back of his belt - as though that was were it had always belonged, but where the hell had it even come from? - and he was crouched on the driveway reaching for something that was just out of sight around the front end of the car.

“Oh, buddy...what did he do to you?”

Mark frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. Who…?

Tim .

Mark stumbled to his feet to get closer, peering over Jack’s shoulder, and sure enough the tiny box was unconscious in his friend’s hands. He didn’t look hurt, just...asleep. Knocked out. Mark reached over Jack to take Tim from him, his hands as gentle as ever as he cradled his little biscuit against his chest protectively.

“Dark...he said he wasn’t here to hurt Tim,” Mark muttered, glancing up at Jack. “I don’t think - I think he’s just asleep.”

“I hope so,” Jack nodded, tugging at the brim of his hat and giving Tim another thoughtful glance before standing and turning his gaze back to Mark. “You good though, bro? Mister My Chemical Romance didn’t hurt ya too badly?”

“Not really, no,” Mark shrugged. He started to shake his head too, but the action made his head pound and he immediately decided never to do that again. Instead he stared at Jack, bewilderment flooding his features. “Wait, me? What about you?! Last time Anti was here he nearly killed you, Jack! How did you even–”

The thought was cut off by a rather unexpected laugh from Jack. The Irishman’s expression was bright, humorous, and the laughter that left him was loud and genuine, but the fact that he was laughing at all left Mark staring at him in baffled silence.

“Bro - dude. Oh my god, no.” Jack shook his head, eyes sparkling, and he chuckled as he went on: “Mark, I’m not Jack.”

Um. What?

“You’re not–”

“I’m Chase,” Not-Jack grinned. “Chase Brody.”

Mark blinked, and several things lined up in his head in that moment.

Change of clothes. Nerf gun. Nerf holster . ‘Brobot’ and ‘Edgelord’ and ‘Your homeboy Anti’ and–

“Oh my god, you’re the trick shot guy.”

“Yeah!” Chase’s grin widened and he shot Mark a pair of finger guns. “Exactly! Bro Average, trick shot master! Nice to meet ya, man!”

Mark’s expression was hovering somewhere between amusement and stupefaction.

“Of...course you are. And, uh...how...how many…?”

“How many Egos are there right now?” Chase snickered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Just three, for Jack. I dunno how many Evil Twins you’ve got lurkin’ around, but it’s just me and Henrik and the ol’ Glitch Bitch on Jack’s end. Hen’s taking care of Jack inside right now.”

“Henrik…?”

“Doctor Schneep.”

“Right, okay. The...the German guy.”

“Heh, sure, yeah.” Chase snorted and glanced back toward the apartment, then around at the windows of the other residence in the area. “...actually, we might wanna head in before anyone starts askin’ more questions than they already will be, yeah?”

“Uh…” Mark blinked and shook himself mentally, still struggling to wrap his head around just how similar Chase and Jack looked . He supposed seeing Google, Dark, and himself in the same place probably looked equally surreal. “Yeah. Good point.”

“Jack, sit still! Leichtsinnig… ” Henrik muttered the word beneath his breath, then glared half-heartedly at Jack over his glasses. “Reckless boy.”

“Hey–!” Jack’s protest came out wheezy and he winced, scowling in annoyed silence instead.

Jack’s sweatshirt had been carefully wrestled off of him not too long ago, and the German doctor was already examining the rather impressive bruises marking Jack’s shoulder. The collision with the television cabinet hadn’t broken the skin, but the area was already turning a deep red color and it hurt to the touch. Jack bit back a whimper as Henrik carefully felt around the area with prodding fingers. He shot the medic a wary look.

“Are you sure y-you actually...know what you’re doing?” he asked, whispering instead. “You don’t have a real medical license…”

“Hush!” Henrik scowled at the YouTuber, his eyes narrowing. “I may not have one, but I vent to medical school same as anyvone else in my field! Ze only reason I don’t have a license is because I–”

The door opened then, drawing the attention of both men and Sam, who had been snuggled up in Jack’s lap. Sam let out a quiet squeak and went airborne, darting across the apartment to snuggle against Mark’s cheek happily.

“Seán?”

“Mark!”

The name hurt to say, the word coming out hoarse and quiet and pained, but Jack’s joy and relief was there nonetheless. He swatted away Henrik’s protests and shoved off the couch, drawing his best friend into a tight hug.

“Fuck, man…” he whispered the words against Mark’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut.

Jack ignored the pain in his shoulder, just letting himself revel in the fact that they were both alive, they were both safe, and they had both made it through whatever the hell had happened tonight. Mark was hugging his friend back just as tightly….but with only one arm.

“Do I even wanna know what the hell Anti did up here while I was gone?”

“...probably not,” Jack admitted quietly. “An’ you’d probably say the same ‘bout whatever Dark did to you outside.”

A low, humorless chuckle rumbled through Mark’s chest and Jack finally stepped back, a weak smile playing across his lips.

“Well...you’re not wrong, I would say that,” Mark shrugged, and Jack saw him bring his hands against his chest, holding something there. “But...uh. We kind of need to keep each other in the loop, don’t we? So we can–”

Mark’s gaze trailed downward and he broke off, his eyes widening and his jaw tensing.

“...is that...new?” he asked.

Jack knew what Mark was referring to without even having to ask.

The bruises on his throat, he was sure, looked worse than ever, the old ones from before still a sickly green-yellow while the fresh ones from this evening were a brilliant red. Plus he wasn’t wearing a shirt, so the massive pattern of bruises on his shoulder was fully visible too.

Unable to give him a proper verbal response, Jack just nodded with a grimace. A vein pulsed in Mark’s neck and he seemed to have to force himself to look away.

“VHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU VERE BLEEDING?!”

“Oh my god, Hen, fucking chill, dude. It’s not that bad–”

“JACK VHERE IS ZE FIRST AID KIT??!?!”

“Henrik, for fuck’s sake!”

Jack shot a look to Chase, who was now actively trying to avoid Henrik’s healing warpath while a red stain of blood slowly soaked the thigh of his jeans. Oh...Jack’s mouth fell into a small circle and his eyebrows rose...that was where Anti had caught Chase with his knife earlier, wasn’t it? In the heat of the moment, the chaos of everything, Jack had almost forgotten that it had happened at all.

‘Mister M-Mark? What happened to Tim…?’

Then Sam’s voice chimed in, quiet and worried. Jack saw Mark wince and look down into his hands, where Jack now realized an unconscious Tim was curled safe again Mark’s chest.

“He’s...he’ll be alright, Sam. He’s just...asleep…”

“Vhere is ze sewing kit–?!”

‘You sure he’s gonna be okay?’

“Stop! I’m fucking fine! Dammit, Henrik, you’re not my fucking wife– !”

Everything sounded too loud, the entire room an endless cacophony of noise, and Jack just wanted it to stop. He wanted quiet. His head was still pounding, still spinning, from everything that had happened since Robin had called, and all he wanted was to sit down, talk it over, drink some tea, and go the fuck to sleep. But he could only do that if everyone would just–

“SHUT UP!”

Jack fell into a coughing fit, his throat screaming at him for raising his voice to such a level after the beating his neck had taken...but it did the trick. The room had quieted, all eyes snapping to him, the expressions he received on the other end rather mixed. Mark looked concerned, Chase was still vaguely pissed, and Henrik had a frantic look in his eyes as though he might explode at any second. Sam let out a little startled squeak and tumbled out of the air, Mark catching him with one hand before the little eyeball even had time to right himself.

“God...okay…” Jack took a deep breath to regain some air and nodded, his voice back down to a whisper. “Okay. So. Mark, you’re good. Sit down an’ take care of the kids.” Mark stifled a chuckled at the comment, and the smallest of smirks twitched at the corner of Chase’s mouth. “Chase, sit the hell down. Let Schneep look at ya. I’ll get the first aid kit - yes, and the sewing kit , I know, Doctor - then I’m makin’ myself some tea, we’re sitting the hell down, and we’re gonna talk about what the fuck just happened.” He threw a weary glance around the room, making sure everyone had heard him. “Got it?”

“Sure thing, man.”

“Ja. Understood.”

Jack looked to Mark last, who still had the same little worried frown creasing his forehead from before, but a bit of that strain had lessened to a degree.

“...yeah. Got it.” Mark managed a tired smile and glanced down to Tim and Sam, still held carefully in his hands, before returning his focus to Jack with a nod. “Thanks, Seán. Go do your thing. I’ve got it handled out here.”

Jack finally smiled then, and some of the tension melted out of his shoulders. He wasn’t alone in this. He wasn’t the only one who had to take charge of this absolute circus of a mess. He and Mark were in this together, best friends taking on the world together, and there were others waiting to help out in the wings if things really went sideways. Amy, Kathryn, Robin...maybe Matt. Perhaps Ethan or Tyler too, if they really needed the help. But the fact still remained that he wasn’t in this alone.

So with one last, appreciative smile and a pat on Mark’s shoulder, Jack set about doing what he had tasked himself with. God, he couldn’t wait for tonight to be over.

[A/N] - Well well well...here we are! The other half of the absolute chaos from the previous chapter, finalized here for you all. I'm sure this chapter will bring as many questions as the last, and they won't go unanswered! My apologies for taking longer to get this one out to you. Life's been a little hectic on my end...heh...but I still have inspiration for this story! Don't you worry!

Next chapter, another much-anticipated character will show his face, and while not as much action will be included it'll be just as intriguing.

I hope.

As always, comments and critiques are always accepted! Let me know what you think, and if you notice any spelling or grammar errors please point them out...I don't always catch them all. ^^;;;

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

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pixie-mage · 6 years

Text

#SamLives - Pt.12

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Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

[This story has been edited and reposted on the official #SamLives Tumblr. The new post of Chapter 12 can be found here.]

(There is no difference between this version and the new version of Chapter 12.)

...Jack gasped sharply and gritted his teeth, snarling and tugging against the green strings, fighting for his freedom. He had to get out. He had to save Sam, had to help Mark. But there was something...odd about the strings. With each tug against his restraints, Jack felt a little more of the fight leaving him, his will to rebel slowly draining away. His head was pounding, his throat was sore, and his shoulder was throbbing with pain...so...so wouldn’t it…

...wouldn’t it be easier to just give in?

The Nerf gun fell from his hands, tumbling to the floor with a clatter of plastic and a muffled thump against the carpet.

“No͊w be̺ a̦ go͟õd̏ li᷅t̏t᷁l͋e᷊ pup̝p͟ét, an̂d̯ ğo᷊ t̥õ s͕le̗e̥ṗ.”

Yeah...yeah, sleep sounded so wonderful right now. Jack slowly let his eyes drifted shut.

Click.

“You let ‘im go right this fucking second, or I blow your fuckin’ brains out, bro.”

Shing.

“I told you scalpels vere good for more zen just surgery!”

“Oh, shut up! Take care of Jack while I deal with the Glitch Bitch.”

“h᷊O̓w̶ d̍A͇r᷈E̖ y̶OͅU͎?!?”

“Don’t even think about moving, man. Try me.”

Jack dragged his eyes open, fighting back toward some semblance of control - and his eyes widened almost comically, a startled noise escaping him.

He was staring at himself. Or, more accurately, a version of himself. The glasses, the smirk, the concerned eyes, the familiar white coat.

“Sch-Schneep?!” Jack stammered. He felt as though he might just topple over from the shock of everything after all.

Jack’s eyes flicked upward, past the Good Doctor’s shoulder, to seek out Anti - and what he saw drew a sharp gasp past his lips.

“I warned you not to move, dude.”

Chase pulled the trigger, his gun still aimed at Anti’s head.

Oh, Chase had pissed off the wrong demon.

But it was still slowing him down. It was holding him back. It was hurting him, in a way, and Jack’s jaw dropped.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Jack!” Henrik snapped his fingers in front of Jack’s face, drawing his attention. “Vhere is Sam?”

Sam!

“A box!” Jack’s eyes snapped open and he pointed across the room, both his and Henrik’s gazes following his finger. “Jewelry box. Anti locked him inside.”

Almost.

Chase hissed and tumbled across the living room floor in a sloppy version of what looked like a practiced roll, teeth gritted in pain and his free hand clutching at his thigh.

Chase fired, the green shot piercing through Anti’s shoulder and drawing a distorted cry of pain from the demon. Chase smirked.

”Hah!” he taunted, standing up onto slightly unsteady feet and taking a staggered step backwards. “That’ll teach ya not to mess with Chase Brody!”

Anti snarled, clutching at his shoulder as its broken pixels reformed, this time a little slower than before.

"I w̉ou̚ḷḍn̄'̣t̮ b̎e̞ so̠ co᷈cky̓, i̴f̌ I we͛r̵e ỵo͗u͖, de̬a᷊dbeåt̘.”

Was that all it would take for Anti to get to him? One, two words?

“How’s that box comin’, Doc?”

“Plan B?” Chase asked, refocusing on Anti, who was finally regaining some semblance of solidity. “Or should we just skip all the way to Plan F-This and get the hell out of here?”

Jack had to admit that Anti looked a little worse for wear. He didn’t look any less angry than before, but a light sheen of sweat could be seen at his hairline, and the scar at his neck had begun to bleed. The battle was beginning to take its toll. Even so, Jack couldn’t help but gulp and press himself flush against the bookshelf he’d been using for support, as though he might be able to phase through it and hide between the books and cacti and video game memorabilia that was kept there. Chase seemed to notice his distress and stood, planting himself firmly between Jack and Anti with his Nerf gun as their shield.

“Vhat do you take me for, a moron?” Henrik joked, chuckling. “Of course I have a Plan B! Zhere is alvays a loophole to exploit, I know zat better zen anyvone.”

“Well are you gonna tell me the loophole, or would you rather leave me hanging while I’m facing down a murderous computer virus?”

“G̈҉e̦͍᷁Ť o̭Ȗt̙ o̵̹̦F͔ m̵͕Y ͘wA̷̵y᷀!”

He had the upper hand now, and he wasn’t about to let it go.

Not again. Not again. Please, not again…

“Doc, c’mon! Hurry up! He’s not letting me get close enough to–”

“I know, I know! I’m almost zhere, just one more–”

“No, I ẖa͗v̶e m̪ůch...͛mùch᷆ b᷆i͈g͗g᷄er p̓lan̶s᷉ foͥr᷆ yõu͕, Jaͅc̻k…”

Not enough air, can’t breath, it hurts it hurtsithurtsithurts–

‘Anti you gotta stop! Please!’

Click.

“Just listen to the kid, man.” Chase had recovered his Nerf gun and was standing in the middle of the room, his aim trained on the back of Anti’s head. “Don’t make him cry.”

“T᷊hi̘s̴ i᷁sn't̠ t̔h͏e l͟a͚s̏t͗ y͚oͅủ'l̙l᷁ s͎e̐e̹ őf̆ m͚e̦.”

‘Jack!’

Before Jack knew what was happening, he was bombarded by a tiny green projectile, Sam nuzzling up against his cheek and ‘cuddling’ every part of Jack’s face that he could reach.

‘I’m okay, Sam.’ He smiled softly. ‘I’ll be fine, thanks to you. You saved me, buddy. You’re so, so brave…’

“Not to interrupt zis wunderbar little moment,” Henrik spoke up. “But I believe zhere is somebody else ve should be helping?”

‘Oh, yeah! Where’s Mark and Tim?’

It was as if an electric shock had jolted him as the realization struck.

“Dark!” Jack’s words came out pained, hoarse, wheezy, his voice not all there. He winced and gritted his teeth, struggling to his feet and fighting past the flames in his throat. “Dark...ngh...h-he’s outside. Mark went...car. The car.”

Chase and Henrik exchanged a look, and Chase nodded.

“I’m on it.”

He was out the door before Jack had even found his footing. Jack made to follow him, more than just a little worried about his best friend, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him where he stood.

“Chase can handle himself, Jack. I trust him vith zis. Ja?” He pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned forward toward his patient. “Now...vhere vere you injured…?”

It would be enough to drive anyone mad.

“Have you given up yet?”

Dark’s voice echoed against the inside of his skull, drawing a pained whimper from Mark, who had yet to change positions from when he had curled up in a ball on his knees at the start of it all. It’s not real, he kept reminding himself, even as he saw Amy’s pained, pleading eyes staring back at him from his own imagination. It’s not real, and it will never happen.

Think of something happy.

Kissing Amy goodnight.

"Sir?”

“What is it, Google? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Mark hated being right sometimes.

"Antisepticeye has vacated the premises.”

Mark froze.

“He would like to inform you that ussies ares and things did not go according to plan. There were...as he said, “more players on the board” that he had not anticipated. Anti would like to discuss this matter in more detail, but for tonight, he is no longer in need of our assistance.”

It was like going to a wax museum, where all the wax figures were supposed to be you. They all looked pretty damn close, but there was something...off about them, because the weren’t exact copies.

...yeah, okay, maybe Dark had screwed up his head more than he’d first assumed.

“Is it wise to simply leave him behind as he is?”

“What damage could he possibly do?” Dark quirked an eyebrow at the android. “He knew I existed beforehand; it wouldn’t take a genius to assume others have surfaced as well. This changes nothing. Besides...it isn’t as if we can’t find him again after this evening.”

Dark eyes that held a sinister promise locked on Mark’s, and a shiver went down the man’s spine.

“We have eyes everywhere. He can’t hide, not from us.”

“Game over, Edgelord,” he taunted. Something about the way he was acting, the way he was talking, made Mark do a double-take. “Your homeboy Anti just ran off with his tail between his legs. I think it’s high time you did the same.”

Mark squinted at his friend. When the hell had Jack had time to change his clothes…?

“Should I neutralize him, sir?” Google’s eyes had taken on a red hue, the logo on his shirt glowing brighter than before, but Dark held up a hand to stop his colleague.

Jack nodded to Google, not yet lowering his gun.

“Your Brobot seems to think otherwise.”

Then both Dark and Google vanished into wisps of black and grey smoke, leaving no trace behind, no hint that they had ever been there at all.

“Oh thank fuck...”

“Oh, buddy...what did he do to you?”

Mark frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. Who…?

Tim.

“Dark...he said he wasn’t here to hurt Tim,” Mark muttered, glancing up at Jack. “I don’t think - I think he’s just asleep.”

“Bro - dude. Oh my god, no.” Jack shook his head, eyes sparkling, and he chuckled as he went on: “Mark, I’m not Jack.”

Um. What?

“You’re not–”

“I’m Chase,” Not-Jack grinned. “Chase Brody.”

Mark blinked, and several things lined up in his head in that moment.

Change of clothes. Nerf gun. Nerf holster. ‘Brobot’ and ‘Edgelord’ and ‘Your homeboy Anti’ and–

“Oh my god, you’re the trick shot guy.”

“Yeah!” Chase’s grin widened and he shot Mark a pair of finger guns. “Exactly! Bro Average, trick shot master! Nice to meet ya, man!”

Mark’s expression was hovering somewhere between amusement and stupefaction.

“Of...course you are. And, uh...how...how many…?”

“Henrik…?”

“Doctor Schneep.”

“Right, okay. The...the German guy.”

“Uh…” Mark blinked and shook himself mentally, still struggling to wrap his head around just how similar Chase and Jack looked. He supposed seeing Google, Dark, and himself in the same place probably looked equally surreal. “Yeah. Good point.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Jack, sit still! Leichtsinnig…” Henrik muttered the word beneath his breath, then glared half-heartedly at Jack over his glasses. “Reckless boy.”

“Hey–!” Jack’s protest came out wheezy and he winced, scowling in annoyed silence instead.

“Are you sure y-you actually...know what you’re doing?” he asked, whispering instead. “You don’t have a real medical license…”

“Seán?”

“Mark!”

“Fuck, man…” he whispered the words against Mark’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Do I even wanna know what the hell Anti did up here while I was gone?”

“...probably not,” Jack admitted quietly. “An’ you’d probably say the same ‘bout whatever Dark did to you outside.”

A low, humorless chuckle rumbled through Mark’s chest and Jack finally stepped back, a weak smile playing across his lips.

Mark’s gaze trailed downward and he broke off, his eyes widening and his jaw tensing.

“...is that...new?” he asked.

Jack knew what Mark was referring to without even having to ask.

Unable to give him a proper verbal response, Jack just nodded with a grimace. A vein pulsed in Mark’s neck and he seemed to have to force himself to look away.

“VHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU VERE BLEEDING?!”

“Oh my god, Hen, fucking chill, dude. It’s not that bad–”

“JACK VHERE IS ZE FIRST AID KIT??!?!”

“Henrik, for fuck’s sake!”

‘Mister M-Mark? What happened to Tim…?’

Then Sam’s voice chimed in, quiet and worried. Jack saw Mark wince and look down into his hands, where Jack now realized an unconscious Tim was curled safe again Mark’s chest.

“He’s...he’ll be alright, Sam. He’s just...asleep…”

“Vhere is ze sewing kit–?!”

‘You sure he’s gonna be okay?’

“Stop! I’m fucking fine! Dammit, Henrik, you’re not my fucking wife–!”

Everything sounded too loud, the entire room an endless cacophony of noise, and Jack just wanted it to stop. He wanted quiet. His head was still pounding, still spinning, from everything that had happened since Singe had called, and all he wanted was to sit down, talk it over, drink some tea, and go the fuck to sleep. But he could only do that if everyone would just–

“SHUT UP!”

“God...okay…” Jack took a deep breath to regain some air and nodded, his voice back down to a whisper. “Okay. So. Mark, you’re good. Sit down an’ take care of the kids.” Mark stifled a chuckled at the comment, and the smallest of smirks twitched at the corner of Chase’s mouth. “Chase, sit the hell down. Let Schneep look at ya. I’ll get the first aid kit - yes, and the sewing kit, I know, Doctor - then I’m makin’ myself some tea, we’re sitting the hell down, and we’re gonna talk about what the fuck just happened.” He threw a weary glance around the room, making sure everyone had heard him. “Got it?”

“Sure thing, man.”

“Ja. Understood.”

Jack looked to Mark last, who still had the same little worried frown creasing his forehead from before, but a bit of that strain had lessened to a degree.

Jack finally smiled then, and some of the tension melted out of his shoulders. He wasn’t alone in this. He wasn’t the only one who had to take charge of this absolute circus of a mess. He and Mark were in this together, best friends taking on the world together, and there were others waiting to help out in the wings if things really went sideways. Amy, Signe, Robin...maybe Matt. Perhaps Ethan or Tyler too, if they really needed the help. But the fact still remained that he wasn’t in this alone.

So with one last, appreciative smile and a pat on Mark’s shoulder, Jack set about doing what he had tasked himself with. God, he couldn’t wait for tonight to be over.

Next chapter, another much-anticipated character will show his face, and while not as much action will be included it'll be just as intriguing.

I hope.

As always, comments and critiques are always accepted! Let me know what you think, and if you notice any spelling or grammar errors please point them out...I don't always catch them all. ^^;;;

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

[Previous|Next?|This story has moved!]

[Chapter List]

#Sam Lives #SamLives #Jacksepticeye #SepticArt #Jacksepticeye FanFiction #JSE Fanfic #Jacksepticeye FanFic #Sam Septiceye #Antisepticeye #Chase Brody #Henrik #Henrik Von Schneeplestien #Chase #Anti #Google #Googleplier #Markiplier #Dark #Darkiplier

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lordofthebigtimesupernatural · 6 years

Note

Single-Dad!Shiro AU: Shiro has a job to do, so he asks Kuro to watch Keith for a while. Keith sees this as a chance to do things that Shiro forbids in the house. Kuro, being the cool uncle he is, agrees. Unfortunately, both end up ruining Shiro's stuff & the house is a mess. Worse, they got news that Shiro done his job a lot faster than the expected time. Cue both Keith & Kuro went into panic mode as they scrambled to restore the house back in order before Shiro arrives back...

Hello! Thank you for the wonderful prompt! I had a ton of fun with this one! I was cackling to myself the whole time, so I hope it makes everyone else laugh. You can bet Kuro and Keith are great together. Not great for Shiro… Thank you for sending in prompts and for everyone else sending in prompts! Enjoy some fluff after that last angsty prompt and who is ready for season 6?!! I won’t be on tumblr until after I watch it to avoid spoilers.

However if anyone likes pictures of nature and animals, feel free to check out my instagram @jaime__roy. I’m there when I’m not on tumblr! Enjoy!

x.V.x

“Bed-time is eight-thirty. Eight is always good too.”

“Yes Takashi.”

“There’s no running in the house.”

“Of course.”

“No movies rated over PG.”

“Okay.”

“No parties.”

“Seriously?”

“And please be sure to keep an eye on him.”

“Takashi, I can handle this. Don’t worry,” Kuro finally sighed dramatically, before bouncing the five-year-old Keith on his hip. Keith nodded seriously. “I will keep two eyes on him instead of one.”

“I was talking to Keith,” Shiro deadpanned as he looked up from his son. “I trust him not to leave the house a mess.” With that Shiro tickled Keith’s chin, sending the boy into a flutter of giggles and wiggling limps.

“My own brother!” Kuro whispered hotly, causing Keith to giggle again.

“Yes daddy!” Keith saluted when Shiro gave him a bright smile. The two ignored their uncles dramatics in favor of peppering each other with kisses. Keith was a giggling mess as he tried to messily kiss his dad’s cheek, but Shiro was determined to plant as many kisses as he could.

“Alright buddy,” Shiro said softly, finally pulling away. “Daddy will be back before by dinner time tomorrow. You be good and take care of your silly uncle, alright?”

“‘Kay daddy.” Keith mumbled quietly. He reached out towards Shiro in an obvious attempt for a hug, to which Shiro gladly complied. He hugged Keith tightly and held on him a tad longer than normal, before Keith was squirming to get down. Ah, kids.

As Shiro was calling goodbye to Keith, Keith was already in the other room, setting up blocks on the ground. He was completely immersed in the activity and ignoring everything else around him. Eventually, Shiro sighed and turned to his twin brother.

“I’ll take care of him.” Kuro said honestly, in a rare moment of seriousness with his brother. After three years, even Kuro knew how much Keith meant to Shiro. Keith was Shiro’s whole world, and honestly he was Kuro’s too. Kuro would rather die than let anything happen to his precious nephew.

“I know you will. I’ll be back by six tomorrow. We can all go out for dinner then.” Shiro smiled as he headed for the door. Kuro beamed and nodded, already looking forward to when Shiro returned home.

“Sounds good baby bro.”

Shiro looked at Kuro with such a disappointed look that Kuro almost apologized. However, he was a man of firm beliefs. A man who stood his ground. Even in the face a ad Disappointed Dad.

“Welp, you better leave now if you’re gonna catch that flight! Don’t worry, Keith and I will be just fine. Goodbye Takashi!” Kuro roughly pushed his brother out of the door with a happy wave. Shiro sputtered but allowed himself to be pushed out the door.

“Bye Keith!”

“Bye bye.” Keith called from where he was in the house.

“Bye!” Kuro grinned before slamming the door close in front of his brother’s face. He could just picture Shiro’s fuming face on the other side, but Shiro didn’t have time for another lecture for Kuro. He did actually have a plane to catch, so Kuro figured he was safe. For today at least.

With a clap of his hands, Kuro grinned and raced into the room where Keith had already constructed a mighty tower of blocks.

“Alright bud. Let’s have some fun.” Kuro rubbed his hands together. Keith hummed, rubbing his hand along his pants.

“More blocks?” He asked softly.

“I was thinking about making a volcano experiment. Maybe we could cook that pasta dish that I’ve been wanting to try. We could even turn the tub into a pool!” Kuro replied rapidly. He was already planning a night of fun and excitement for Keith, knowing that Shiro could sometimes be slightly overprotective over Keith. Shiro had many rules to follow but Kuro figured that Keith could use a break. For just one night.

“But that’ll make a mess.” Keith replied, blinking owlishly at his uncle.

“No it won’t. Don’t worry. We can be extra careful.”

“Can you cook?”

“Of course I can!” Maybe.

“But daddy usually doesn’t do that with me.”

“Oh come on bud,” Kuro said down on his knees beside Keith. He kept his distance from Keith and his tower of blocks, knowing that the kid usually didn’t like people bothering him when he was building. He especially did not like anyone touching his towers. Not even Shiro.

“It’ll be fun. I promise. Don’t you wanna have some fun with your favorite uncle?” Kuro pleaded with a small pout. Keith blinked again.

“You’re my only uncle.”

Kuro sighed heavily and buried his face into his hands. “Alright bub, I didn’t want to have to do this. But you leave me no choice.” Kuro knew what he was about to do was a risk. There was no way that he would be as effective as Keith as this, but Keith was a master. Still, Kuro had to try. He needed to get Keith to say yes.

He would try his infamous puppy dog eyes.

With a deep breath in, Kuro prepared himself to give Keith the best pair of puppy dog eyes that anyone had seen. And boy, did he put everything into it. Kuro even made sure his eyes twinkled when he looked up at Keith, and his lower lip trembled. Just a bit.

Keith merely stared at Kuro and Kuro began to sweat. He did not, however, give up. Instead he pushed all of his determination even further into his look.

Eventually, Keith gasped loudly.

“You look so weird! Is that how I look?! Please don’t ever do that again.” Keith cried dramatically and Kuro froze in surprise. A second later his look crumbled as he burst into uncontrollable laughter. Kuro rolled onto his back still laughing when Keith scrambled to his side.

“Uncle Kuro? Are you ‘kay? Are you sick?” Keith said anxiously as his uncle continued to laugh. Kuro tried his best to control his laughter, but he could only manage to calm himself to quiet bursts of giggles before pulling Keith into his arms.

“Don’t ever change bub.” Kuro said in between giggles and even Keith cracked a smile. When he finally had calmed himself enough to speak properly he shared a grin with his nephew. “How about we start with dinner?”

Keith nodded eagerly and the two made their way to the kitchen.

x.V.x

Shiro shuddered to himself with a sense of dread pooling in his chest, in the middle of a meeting. It was as if he could feel a disturbance in the Shirogane timeline.

A sudden flash of the house burning down, with Kuro standing over a pot of boiling water, filled Shiro’s mind.

Kuro can’t cook.

x.V.x

“Well…that went well,” Kuro mumbled, as he slurped up the noodles on his fork. Beside him Keith shrugged, but eagerly munched on his own bowl of noodles. Kuro swallowed and glanced back at the blackened wall above the stove.

In all honest, this was Kuro’s best attempt at cooking. He actually had two edible bowls to eat. There were no injuries and the stove only caught fire once. Luckily, Kuro had lightning fast reflexes and put out the fire immediately with Keith nowhere near the flames.

“Don’t worry about the wall. I’ll clean it tomorrow before daddy comes home.” Kuro mumbled through a mouth full of noodles. Keith made a face.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.” Keith chided, despite having food in his own mouth.

Kuro nodded and continued to eat his food.

x.V.x

“Do you ever regret everything you’ve ever done?” Shiro mumbled, face buried in his arms. Beside him, his coworker awkwardly patted his back.

“Dating troubles?”

“Babysitter regrets.”

“Oh…”

x.V.x

“Naw Takashi. I heated up pasta. It was fine,” Kuro mumbled distractedly. His tongue was poking out as he concentrated while on the phone with Shiro. Beside him, Keith’s own tongue was poking out with anticipation. Kuro almost cooed at the sight of his nephew in oversized goggles and a large trash bag around his body.

“Uh, huh. Keith ate it all, right little man?”

“Yes daddy! It was actually good.” Keith said seriously.

“Oh, okay sweetheart. Is everything okay? Is Uncle Kuro getting you ready for bed soon?” Shiro asked half-heartedly.

“We are playing and then bath time.” Keith replied.

“Shiro it’s only seven thirty. The kid still has an hour. Don’t ruin his fun.” Kuro mumbled distractedly as he concentrated on the task before him. Suddenly, Keith slapped his arms and began bouncing excitedly.

“Uncle Kuro, Uncle Kuro! It’s happening!” Keith clapped his hands excitedly.

“What’s happening? Kuro, what’s going on?” Shiro asked through the phone.

“Yes! Gotta go Takashi. We’ll call you before bed!” Kuro said cheerfully as the paper volcano before him began to bubble.

“Kuron, don’t you dare hang up-”

Click.

“Look Keith! Look at it!” Kuro said excitedly when the paper volcano bubbled once more. Keith grinned excitedly from atop the chair he was standing on. He and Kuro shared a look before the volcano erupted right in front of them and shot white foam straight up.

Onto the ceiling.

Keith shrieked excitedly when the volcano erupted and Kuro laughed maniacally. After an impressive ten seconds, the volcano ran out of white foam and the two sat in awed silence. Until Keith started bouncing up and down excitedly. Despite the mess on the ceiling, Kuro and Keith clapped loudly and high-fived each other.

Keith decided then to scoop his hand into the white foam on the volcano before his entire face scrunched up. He was then trying to flick the foam off his hand, only getting more and more frustrated by the second.

“Off! Off! Gross!” Keith moaned and waved his hand in front of Kuro. Kuro grimaced. He figured that the foam would have a weird texture.

“Off! Get off!” Keith pleaded, causing Kuro to scoop him up into his arms.

“I think it’s time for a bath.” Kuro announced and headed up the stairs. He glanced back at the mess in the kitchen and shrugged. There would be time tomorrow to clean it up.

x.V.x

“Dive! Dive! Dive!” Kuro commanded before taking a deep breath and submerging himself entirely in the bathtub. Keith laughed loudly and followed his uncle, causing the water to ripple widely and spill all over the floor.

Kuro surfaced with a gasp and more water flooded onto the floor.

“Commander Keith, ready the torpedos! We have a niner-niner, code yellow attacking!” Kuro claimed and pointed towards a rubbed duck.

Keith surfaced too and grinned with a large splash.

x.V.x

Suddenly the glass of water in Shiro’s hand gave him vivid flashes of floodwaters.

He swallowed and set the glass down.

Did they have water insurance?

x.V.x

Kuro was having a pleasant dream that involved bacon, a field of dogs, long walks on the beach, and…a phone ringing?

Wait, that was his phone.

Kuro snorted awake with a jerk, realizing he and Keith had both fallen asleep in Shiro’s bed last night. The bed was slightly damp since Keith and Kuro had barely dried off before heading to bed. Kuro looked over and noticed that Keith was still curled up, fast asleep on Shiro’s pillow with his stuffed lion tucked under his chin. He smiled before realizing that his phone was still ringing.

Scrambling to the side of his bed, Kuro finally reached his phone and answered without checking the ID.

“‘Ello?” He yawned.

“Hey Kuro! Sorry to wake you.” Shiro’s voice floated through the phone and Kuro rolled his eyes playfully.

“Don’t worry brother. I was getting up soon.” Kuro replied tiredly.

“Oh good. Then you guys’ll be awake when I get home!” Shiro said happily. Kuro nearly choked on his spit and he was unable to form words. However, Shiro seemed oblivious to his brother’s panic and continued.

“Our last meeting got canceled so I left early this morning. I should be home in about ten minutes!” Shiro said, causing Kuro to have a heart attack. The kitchen! The bathroom! Everything was still a mess!i

“Oh. Keith will be so happy!” Kuro replied, racing out the room. He raced into the bathroom, heart hammering at the still wet floor and soapy tub. His heart sunk and he could only imagine how the kitchen looked.

“Yeah! Is he there?” Shiro asked.

“Uh, um, he’s still asleep. Plus don’t you want to surprise him!” Kuro rambled. He scrambled around the bathroom, grabbing as many towels as he could and flinging them all on the floor. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Oh yeah! He’ll be so surprised.” Shiro said. He won’t be the only one.

“Great! I’ll see you in ten then! Bye!” Kuro replied quickly and hung up before his brother could even protest. Kuro raced down the hall, figuring the bathroom would be okay, in order to survey the kitchen. He was so dead. Shiro was going to kill him. He had survived terrorists. Kidnappers. His dad’s training. But Shiro was going to be the one to take him down. There would be no mercy with an angry dad.

Kuro was just entering the kitchen when he heard the front door opening. It had not been ten minutes!

“Hey Kuro! Keith, I’m home!” Shiro called out.

Kuro felt his heart freeze over. He could hear tiny feet pattering down stairs and Keith raced past him. Keith did hesitate to lock eyes onto Kuro, before looking at the state of the kitchen.

“Save yourself.” Kuro whispered hoarsely. Keith’s eyes widened and he raced towards Shiro.

“Daddy! You’re home!” Keith screeched and Kuro heard him laughing happily as Shiro picked him up. Then Shiro was kissing his son all over.

“Yep, daddy came home early just for you sweetheart!” Shiro said. “Did you have fun with your uncle?”

“Yes daddy! So much fun!” Keith replied. At least our last time together would be memorable for Keith.

“That’s wonderful baby! Where is your uncle?”

“Um…”

“Kuro?” Shiro called and his footsteps were slowly getting closer to the kitchen. Kuro eyed the kitchen window, momentarily calculating how much time it would take to hurl himself through it and run.

Suddenly Shiro’s footsteps were right behind him. Too late.

“What. The. Fuck?!”

“Daddy said a bad word!”

Here lies Kuron Shirogane. He died too young, at the hands of Takashi Shirogane. He will be missed.

#single dad shiro #Single dad shiro AU #kiddie!AU #kiddie!paladins #voltron legendary defender #keith and kuro get into a lot of trouble #keith is full of seriousness #but he can have fun too #poor Kuro

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 4 years

Text

Just like Fire ch. 5

“We gon' drink drink and take shots until we fall out like the roof on fire. Now baby give a booty naked, take off all your clothes, and light the roof on fire. Tell her baby baby baby baby. I'm in fire, I tell her baby baby baby I'm a fireball." - Pitbull (Fireball)

"Happy birthday to me...” Claire muttered to herself in the car as she headed back to headquarters from the airport.

She had just spent her sixteenth birthday in a island near Polynesia using a tank to crush "the enemies of the state." Then burned their military base to the ground.

She didn't know what exactly they did to become enemies, but it didn't matter. Kurt and the other agents always repeated the same stupid phrase.

"You're a weapon. You don't need to know. Just take your orders and do them!"

"What was that?" Dr. Novak asked from the front seat next to the driver. He was the new head scientist. Kurt replaced Dr. Greene after his experiment didn't bring any new test results. He had only been there for a few weeks, but he was a lot less strict.

"Nothing, just can't believe I'm sixteen." And haven't seen the world in 6 years.

Dr. Novak smiled. She liked it. He reminded her of the Director. Bald, a little less fat and wide smile.

"My daughter is almost sixteen like you, Amber eyes. I wish you could talk, I'm sure you would find some things in common."

"Umm, not exactly allowed." Claire pointed to her shock collar "But I would like that too. I haven't seen anyone my age in forever!"

Dr. Novak gave a small frown, then he started to shift.

"I know I shouldn't let my feelings get in the way but it's such a shame you're living like this...." He looked around as if the limo had security cameras watching them. Then leaned closer "Okay, maybe we can let you go for one day. But you must come back to the Center before 1 okay. I don't want to get into too much trouble."

"But the, the collar?" Claire stammered, feeling giddy. Was she actually going to be let out and free alone?

Dr. Novak pulled out a Swiss Army knife from his lab coat pocket and cut it off.

"Now go, pretend I couldn’t have stopped you" he instructed. Claire pushed herself out the door and rolled out to the busy sidewalk of Metropolis City.

It was huge! Skyscrapers seemed to be everywhere and shops crowded every corner. It was already 7 in the afternoon but Claire felt like it was 9 in the morning.

She was free!!! Free!

But what do regular people do on their birthdays. They had cake, but she had no money. They had friends and gifts but that was not happening.

So she looked around and followed a crowd of teenagers that looked to be her age to a club, Pulse it said in pink neon.

Her body felt electrified and she couldn't keep from bouncing on her feet. She was normal person, going to a club. She felt if she smiled anymore her face would break.

As she got to the bouncer, he glanced at her. "You don't look 20,” he wrinkled his nose.

Claire lower her eyes and smiled. Pressing her body against him oh so suggestively. "But couldn't you let me in. I have a sister waiting inside," she purred, nudging her chest against his. A move that was practically engrained into her body. She had done this many times before on poor foreign enemies of the state before she knocked their head into the roof. The man melted like putty and she glide past. Swinging her hips to the music. The club was hot, flashing strobe lights bounced around the wall and shiny silver dance floor. There were a few couches packed in back of the room and two tropical bars with palm trees near the bathrooms. And cages of hanging from the ceiling with shirtless men and girls in their underwear dancing in time to the drums. Claire stared at the whole place in wonder. And slowly she started to copy the others. Waving her arms in the air, grinding and jumping around.

But as she started to get tired, she felt bored. She wanted to use her powers. When was the last time she used them for fun? But she couldn't think of any trick that would seem normal without attracting attention that she was a meta human.

As she looked at the people dancing around the tikki torches by the bar, she had an idea....Fire breathing. Take a stick with plastic palm leaves, she ripped them off and blew. A woosh of fire covered the stick and Claire brandished it proudly.

A few screamed but others started crowing and yelling. She did a few more tricks, twirling sticks in the air, making shapes out of fire discreetly using her powers to help.

Then two gawky guys, both with brown hair came up to her. One black tips said to her, "I.. I'm I know you might not know what I'm talking about. But trust me, it's a compliment from the highest degree of nerdom." He cleared his throat,"You, me world domination?" "Sorry if you don’t get the reference but it’s a paraphrase of this firebender named Azula. It’s from Avatar: Last Airbender," The other guy with glasses explained. "I loved that show!" Claire cried. She had been banned watching it after she found out about her powers. Her dad thought she would be too influenced. But Claire still remembered fondly. And now apparently these two cute guys her age knew it too.

"No way someone as hot as you knows that." The black tips cried..

"Well yes. I'm a fire bender all the way. As you can see.." Claire smirked, waving her flaming stick.

“Nah, not me. I'm more air bender," Black tips said, ““All peace, no war.” "That's cuz he's too scared of fire," Glasses mocked whispered.

"Shut up!" "You are too!"

"Hey, how did you even do that without draining alchohol?" Black tip asked, changing the conversation to Claire, motioning to her flaming torches. Normal people need to alchohol to do it? "Uh what makes you think I haven't been drinking?" Claire winked.

The guys smiled. “I'm Damian" glasses said "And this is my younger bro and room mate, Francis," he motioned to black tips. "Claire." They spent the rest of the time joking and talking about avatar episodes. Then Francis invited her over for dinner at the apartment and she eagerly accepted. It was almost eleven but she wasn't planning on going back. Sure, Dr. Novak might get in trouble but she her freedom meant more than any scientist. And with such nice guys too. She could stand to hang around them for a little while until she found her own place.

Plus Francis looked quite cute. Chiseled checks, floppy brown hair, studied something called botany which only seemed to remind her how much school she missed.

She hadn’t even finish middle and she couldn’t recall what photosynthesis was. She thought it had to do with cameras but they didn't mention anything about it yet.

"Well I'm gonna hit the sack. Good night." He slapped Francis' shoulder, "Make me proud," he whispered.

They spent a little time siting on the couch when Francis turned to her and leaned closer, heading in for a kiss. Claire tried to suppress a cringe as she felt her face flush. Her body started tingling again like all those years ago. Oh god, she was aroused. He was probably aroused too, and he'll want the sex. But then his mouth pressed against hers and all her thoughts flew out. His lips were so soft and warm, she wanted to melt against him. She gripped him closer and held his hair as his tongue pushed further into her mouth.

"This is amazing! How could I think kissing was bad? Wait....did that other guy even kiss me? No, no. This is my first kiss. OMIGOD I'M HAVING MY FIRST KISS!”

Slowly he took off her clothes and she grabbed his pants. His touch was so soft and gentle and warm. She welcomed it. All the muscles she was clenching released and she just let him take the lead. This sex thing was great, and Claire held onto him like howler monkey.

After the first release, she felt hotter, and heard Francis mutter, "You're boiling." Claire briefly opened her eyes, and saw her her hands, flames sparking up her fingers. She held them out in the air and tried not to touch Francis or act like anything was wrong.

But her hands wouldn't stop burning, no matter how much she tried to imagine it away. Francis' body blending into hers was so distracting, especially as another wave of pleasure rippled through hers.

She flipped Francis in a way she would be positioned ontop of him and smashed her boobs against his face, suppressing a moan of ecstasy. It was honestly very frustrating. Here she was having the best sex ever and she had to stop it or else he would freak over her burning hands.

So she pretended to accidentally knock over the lamp, touched the lightbulb and it exploded from the heat.

Francis jumped and Claire sat on her hands, trying to cool herself. "Dude!! I'm happy for you, but seriously!" Damian yelled from another room.

"Sorry, sorry." Francis flushed, his neck turning white "We should probably stop" he bent over to pick up the pieces. "Yes, you probably should." a chilling voice added.

In the doorway stood Kurt and four agents. "Claire," He intoned. Two agents grabbed her, and forced her outside as she heard Kurt talking to Francis.

"Take this pill, you don't need to remember what's gone on here tonight-" amid Francis' questions. Claire's face burned with shame and humiliation.

How the hell, did they find out?

"How?" Claire whispered when Kurt entered the car with a blanket to cover herself. "Security cameras. Though you were acting like a stripper at the club, not many people have knee length orange hair." He spat at the word club.

"It was simple to spot you from the rest. We asked questions, found out who you left with. Now you are coming back. First discipline, then you'll have to work through the night to catch up with what you missed." Kurt informed her.

Claire self-consciously gripped her hair. She never thought about how recognizable she looked with it, uncut from years gone by. Once they got to the headquarters, she was disciplined with the routine of water boarding and foam spray until she had passed out. When she came too, she had been redressed in her usual black outfit, a new shock collar and brought to the training room.

Where Dr. Novak stood, handcuffed and crying.

"First we thought you should get rid of your accomplice." Kurt said. Claire held her breath and hesitantly complied, forming a circle of fire around Dr. Novak, close but not touching him. Claire wanted to apologize to the man. The man with a daughter her age, who had thought she should be out on her birthday and let her have that one day of freedom.

But Kurt was waiting, nudging her back with the fire extinguisher nozzle. A water board would await her if she didn’t comply. Claire closed her eyes and let the circle of fire creep closer and closer until the smell of burnt skin and smoke filled the room.

#claire selton #volcana #where’s the smoke #just like fire #ch. 5 #superman: the animated series #my fanfic #my fanfiction

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