#if I’m brave I might put my painting back up but I gotta get out my screwdriver and decide if I want to fight with anchors or just trust | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blissfulparker · 3 years

Text

Driving First class→T.H

Parings: mechanic!tom x reader

Summary: A bitter fight with your now ex has you taking your car instead of a train for a business trip. Although out of your pettiness and anger, your car breaks down and you are left in the middle of nowhere but luckily Tom sees your distress and the man who works on the car is your best rescue. But he works on you other ways both Physically and emotionally

Warnings: Dom!tom, sub!reader, degrading(only slightly), sex on top of a car, squirting, oral, unprotected sex (this is fictional please use protection!), orgasm denial, power struggle, Tom being scared of women for two seconds

Word count: 5.5k

A/n: yeah so idk why I got so horny all the sudden and wrote this. Tbh...I like this version of tom, whatever this is I kinda like it. Let me know what you guys think, if you want to see more or less but I present to you: the first full fic I’ve written in months!(also I know barely anything about cars so I’m sorry if it’s cringy😭)

“Fuck! Shit! Dammit! Fuck! Fuck!” You scream. Hitting your hands against the steering wheel. Such a stupid idea with a stupid end result how could you not expect it?

Taking a car instead of a plane or a train across the country to avoid your ex on a business trip. Thinking you were being more bold and brave, proving you never needed him in the first place when now you sit stranded out in the middle of nowhere with a smoking engine and only hours until sunset and you’re sweating your ass off in a suit. A suit, who the hell wears a suit on a road trip?

Your Phone only having one bar and giving you 20%, you’re doomed. Doomed to be stranded out here and either killed by a maniac or killed by a bear. If London even had bears you would be killed by one. Wanting to cry and scream and maybe a train seat next to your ex who cheated was a better option than crying in your grandpa’s old Chevy that you thought was a better idea than the Tesla or the BMW. Anything would’ve been a better idea than this one but for once you couldn’t let go of the fiery side to you and just got in a car with your middle finger to your ex thinking you were so much better than a first class seat with expensive champagne.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You say to yourself. Your hands run over your face. As dramatic as you can be you think you feel the end coming. The smoke from the engine never dies down and the sun is getting hotter and hotter. No more bubble gum pop plays from the radio but instead the sound of birds chirping and your paranoia of a bear eating you eats at your ears. You think maybe you should’ve sent that drunk ‘I miss you’ text to your ex back two nights ago when you were drunk to maybe just feel his dick once more and get on a stupid train with him but now you are—

“Miss?” A knock at your window causes you to jump. Screaming as you are met with the face of a man and grabbing your pepper spray from the keys and pointing. Even though the window was rolled up you still point and he backs up with his hands up.

“What the fuck!” You scream as you lower the pepper spray. You don’t know when, don’t know how, but now pulled in front of you was a black SUV that was in much better shape than your car. A man who wore a tight white shirt and had sweet chocolate brown curls stood with a scared look on his face.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve seen your smoke some while back and...and you were slumped over your steering wheel and needed to make sure I didn’t need to call police.” He explained very rushed. You place your hand over your heart, calming yourself as you reached to roll down your window so you can properly talk to him. A harmless boy who was probably on his way home.

“I’m fine.” You almost groan as you put your pepper spray back down. Running your hands over your face once again. Tom takes in how nice you look, black suit and neatly painted nails, you looked expensive so what was such an expensive girl like you doing in such a dirty old car like this?

“You got smoke coming from your car, you don’t look fine miss.” He looks at the cloud that still comes from your car. He has a worried look. You hate that you make the assumption of him being a man so he will know how to fix it but at the same time he was an Angel sent from Heaven,

“The engine blew out...at least I think…” you trail off. Honestly you didn’t know anymore, The last time you worked with a car was when you were 15 and before your grandpa died. The only person who truly taught you about cars now seemed to be reincarnated into the Greek god in front of you.

“Mind if I take a look?” He asked and you nodded as you popped the hood.

Stepping out of your car you join the boy in the front. Taller than him in the heels you wore having him look up at you as if you were the Angel sent down in the moment.

He doesn’t hesitate to dig his fingers into your car. Feeling the overheated engine and you watched as his eyes went in shock and his sigh. You were fucked. Utterly fucked and no, it wasn’t by some hot guy on a plane like you wished in the moment.

“She’s busted.” He looked at you. You almost want to roll your eyes and go ‘thanks’ as if you already didn’t know that. “I might be able to fix her up, gotta take her back to the shop and see what I can do but other than that she’s no good for a ride.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at you again.

“You mean it’s like broken broken down?” You start to panic even more. Ruining the BMW was far more worth it than the ‘57 Chevy you drove. No one made a car like this anymore and you adored it. Every chip of paint, every dent, each faded seat you loved as your own.

“I can see what I can do.” He shrugged. He starts to walk to his car, opening the trunk to hook your busted vehicle up to his and drag it back to where he just came from. As he starts to hook up your car you only just stare, watching as he does his work. He rubs his now oily hands on his pant leg before he looks up at you.

“You wanna hop in the front?” He asked and you started walking to your car and he let out a laugh. “No I meant my car, Angel.”

The random man that pulls over on the side of the road, has you pointing your pepper spray one moment ago now has you acting like a idiot as he was so pretty and a gift sent just for you.

“Right,” you walk around to the passengers seat. “Sorry.” You cleared your throat as you sat and waited in silence. Waiting for him to come around and when he does he doesn’t say anything but just starts up the car.

“You’re not going to kill me are you?” You looked over to him who has a goofy grin on his face.

“No sweetheart.” He shakes his head and you sigh in relief. As if he would even tell you that he was going to kill you. “You’re not going to kill me are you? With that spray you’ve got?” He teased and you shook your head.

“No, and sorry, I was just panicked and you are—“ you started but he lets a low laugh that you find so attractive.

“No I get it, you’re fine.” He stared back at the road. You were so use to the city, the tall building and the blinding lights you never really got to see the beauty of London outside of it. The gorgeous countryside you never knew existed actually did. But the countryside only lasted for so long before you were in a town filled with some of the cutest shops and was like a small city. So cute and so tiny.

“You wear heels on a road trip?” He broke the silence again and this time you’re looking at the four inch shoes.

“I-well-“ you looked and sounded like a proper idiot. You worked for one of London’s best businesses and now you were stumbling over your words, “well...yes? I’m on a business trip.” You admit and he looks back at the busted vehicle.

“I don’t know what business you work for but them sending you in a—“ he starts and you shake your head.

“No, no, that is mine. I thought—I didn’t want to go on a train and—it’s just complicated. A complicated stupid mess.” You tell him and he tilts his head as if he was agreeing.

“Well, I’ll see how well I can get you out of the complicated stupid mess.” He flashed a smile before he turned into what looked like a garage. A large garage that was filled with cars of all types, from new to old there were cars that had looked like they had been worked on for days as Tom pulled his car up and turned it off.

“We have some water in the front if you need some and there's a bathroom in the back. Make yourself a home, I'll get started.” and so for once, instead of just staring at him as if he was a piece of art hanging in the louvre, you search for the bathroom and the water he was talking about.

Leaving him to pop back open your hood, you walk into the bathroom and run cold water over your face. Feeling yourself relax at the feeling of finally getting the heat from the sun out of your face. Facing yourself in the mirror, you stare long and hard at yourself. The dimly lit bathroom, the achy feeling in your feet from being so stupid and wearing heels, the fact you broke down in god know what part of london but now you are in a mechanic shop and you are letting some random person fix up your beloved car.

“Should’ve just gotten on the train.” you groan as you take a paper towel and dry your face. Reaching for the door and walking back out to the garage where tom was now in a white tank top that was stained black all over, he had a towel over his shoulder as he worked at your car. You try to swallow the lump in your throat as you are completely mesmerized by the man in front of you.

Should've gotten on the train. Should've gotten on the train. Should've gotten on the train.

“Fuck!” Tom almost hits his head on the hood of the car as he sees you. You think he had curly hair at the start, now he had hair that kind of stuck to his forehead from the heat and sweat of your car. His hands are covered in black oils and he wipes them on the towel. “You scared me.” he lets out a breath as if he held it in and you take a seat at the stool next to the table filled with tools as he walks over to it.

“Sorry,” you say as you look at the car and try not to make it obvious you want to fuck him right now. A complete stranger that picked you up, you want to fuck. What if he did want to kill you? What if he had a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Or a family of kids? What if-

“You hear me?” he was closer to you than ever and you felt your whole body go weak.

“I'm so sorry,” you shake your head. “What did you say?’

He lets out that stupid pretty laugh of his again as he puts tools back in the tool box. Cleaning up the mess he just made he repeats himself.

“I said, your car is so old that they don't make the part I need to fix her up anymore. Luckily I know a guy who has the part but it will take a few days to come in. the engine is completely busted and i think if i go a year up in model I can put it in just right. But for now she needs to cool off. She’s not gonna be able to drive for a while.” he gives you almost a pout and you slouch your shoulders.

“So I'm screwed?” your brows raised and he gave you a pressed lipped look.

“Im sorry angel, I got a spare room at my place or there is a bed and breakfast up the road I can drop you off at but for now there is nothing I can do.” he says and you sigh. Maybe you want to cry, scream, throw something but Tom notices it all at once as he watches your head drop.

Tom grew up around boys. His whole life was wrestling with his brothers and working on cars. He never dealt with girls crying. Even when he had girlfriends they typically left when they were crying but now he has a crying girl right under his roof after he worked on her car. It did take everything in him to not ask why she used the old thing but he knew a lot more was happening than just a beat down old car.

“I'm sorry. I should thank you, not cry.” you sniffled as you looked up at him who was on his knees crouched down for you. Face to face, he had a concerned look.

“I have a feeling that car isn't why you’re crying.” he didn't know how to play therapist and mechanic but tonight he would.

“I was so stupid not to just get on the train. God, I would have already been there by now and all because I didnt want to sit next to my stupid cheating ex who I thought I was so much better than if I just got in this old thing and drove there myself.” you wipe your eyes and he hands you a tissue but you shake your head.

“He sounds like a shit guy.” He spoke and you nodded.

“He is, but he was the only one that gave a shit about me and now I'm here like an idiot. Well, not an idiot...no, yeah. An idiot. You're really nice and sweet though so thank you.” you try and give him a smile and he stands up.

“Get up.” he groans a bit as he stretches his legs. “C’mon sweets, get up. I’m not going to let you cry over a guy who treated you like shit. You drink?” he asked and you nodded. “I have some beer in the fridge, you already had a shit day let's not cry about it.”

You don't know if you wanted to throw the wrench at him or if you needed him to say that. Either way he sets an ice cold beer in front of you and pops open the top for you.

Probably making more money than everyone in this town, you never thought you would plop down on a nearly broken bar stool in the middle of a car mechanic shop and drink away your feelings with a random man you just met today. You didnt even know his name, nor did he know yours but he listened to everything you had to say about your ex boyfriend who was probably fucking some model right now while you for once felt like you didnt have to play pretend nice in front of someone. How you don't know what god above sent this man in front of you but he did and he listened to each of your problems, nodding and not saying anything back as he just listened to everything.

“I used to work on cars too.” you look over at the cars and he raises his brows.you had finally stopped crying so much, realizing what was happening and where you were but you felt like a weight was taken off your shoulders when you told him everything. Not even your best friend could make you feel like that.

“Penthouse princess used to work on cars?” he teased and you only nudged his shoulder.

“Wow, penthouse princess?” you repeat back to him with a playful smile and he nods.

“Never got your name and you live in a penthouse and act like a princess.” he takes a sip of his beer and you finally extend your hand to meet his.

“(y/n).” you shook his dirty one but wow were his hands thick. You could feel each callous and feel each crooked finger. Your mind went to dirty places and you think maybe he caught on as he watched your legs cross over themselves as you shook his hand.

“Tom.” his thumb swiped over yours as he shook your hand. The feeling made you swallow hard and him smirk just a bit for himself. Before you could get too comfy you walked over to a truck that already had its hood popped open. You stumble a bit in your heels and the uneven ground and Tom is quick to follow you to make sure you don't hurt yourself.

“That's the engine.” you point. And he nods, his hand is on his hips as he watches you point and explain. “That's the brake pad, that's where you put in the oil…” you trail on and Tom nods as you get everything correct.

“Very good, darling.” he nods impressed and you look over at him with a smirk.

“What? No penthouse princess?” you're close to him. You didn't realize how close he was to you before you turned around and are almost chest to chest with him.

“Mmh, you have a preference?” he teased and you look down at your feet. You're still taller than him, but you think even without the heels on you would be either taller or the same height as him. You were always told that you were the one in control, always the one in demand which seemed to be a complaint by your ex.

“Mmh,” you lean in close enough to where your chest is gently pressed against his. “I'm not sure yet.” you let your hand go to the strap of his tank top, its dirty with oil before you let your hands go down and touch the muscle. Feeling just how strong he was, he was pretty tanned too. He was both toned and tanned as he watched your hands trail down to the bottom of his shirt.

His hands rested on your waist. Holding you tight in place and maybe in the moment he was the shorter on but he was always in control. Always.

“You seem so indecisive, do you want to drive or get on a train? Get back with a man or stay away? You don't even know where you want to sleep at night but you still act like you're so in control.” he almost mocks, giving you the same pout you had throughout the entire night and it shocked you.

“I know what I want.” you nearly snarl back and he clicks his tongue.

“Yeah?” he almost whispers as he leans in for your ear. “Prove it.”

You don't know when or how but his lips quickly land on yours. In a rough fight for dominance he has his hands wrapped around your thighs and has you picked up and laid down on one of the cars with a hood down. You don't realize it's your car with his hood down until you brace yourself on the hood. Stripping of your suit jacket and fiddling with your pants button but tom is already on it. He's down on his knees, undoing the straps of your shoes as he lets his hands go up and undo the buttons of your pants. Having you nearly completely naked in front of him, that's not exactly what he was going for as he picks you up from the hood as has you on your knees in front of him.

“Was so cute, you thought you were going to get exactly what you wanted.” his hand was dirty as it stroked your face but landed a grip on your chin. Pulling you in close, your head in between his thighs looking up at him with pleading eyes. You almost whimper, you were on your knees for a man you didn't know and you were almost whimpering.

“Dont act stupid.” he nearly spit at you as he leaned back. Your hands are going to unzip his pants but he stops you. Forcing you to rest your hands on his thighs as he pulls himself out of his pants. You swallowed hard as he was bigger than you had expected--far bigger than your ex as you felt like your mouth was watering as he used his thumb to stroke over the tip.

“Stick your tongue out.” he told you. You gladly stuck your tongue out with your mouth wide and ready to take him. He had one grip on your jaw and the other guiding his cock into your mouth. You start to suck but that's not what he wanted. He held your jaw in place as he thrusted up into you.

“Thats a good girl,” he hissed as he used your mouth as if it was his own personal toy. You reached to stroke what couldnt fit in your mouth and he let out an airy laugh. “What a little whore you are.” he shook his head. “So desperate, is this not enough for you? Sucking on my cock not enough for you?” he taunted you and you only moan—or at least try to moan and he laughs.

“What was that darling? I can't seem to hear you?” he teased and you only whined more with your mouth around him. You play a game with yourself where you think you can make him cum like this. Making him cum this early would mean that you always were more incharge from the start. But you barely know him, you don't know how long he can last.

“Get up.” he pulls your head off of him. His cock still hard as it fell onto his stomach and you were drooling with his precum. Your eyes don't even look up at him you look at the redness of his cock, how you want more of it and maybe you were the whore like he said.

“Look at me,” he pulled you up, now face to face with him. His hand that was free slips in between thighs, teasing as he gets closer and closer to your core and he clicks his tongue again. “Such a dirty girl, don't even want to look at me, say thank you, you just look at my cock wanting more. You want more?” he strokes your cheek and you nod. “What was that? A moment ago I thought I was talking to one of the richest girls in London but now I feel like I'm talking to just some whore--” he starts to talk but your lips are already on his. You straddle his hips. Extremely unsturdy but he quickly picks you up and flips you over. As much as he'd loved to see what you look like on top of him. Tits bouncing for him and trying to hold on, here was not the best place. He would get a better view later, he just knew it.

For now he flips you over on your stomach. You're pressed up against the car as he wraps his hand around your waist and uses his fingers for a bit.

“So fucking tight.” he slides in slowly at first. Making you gasp and him hiss. “That other boy fuck you like this?” he asked but you were too busy trying to feel more of him. His hand comes down to your ass and in shock you yelp. “I asked you a question, don't say you don't know manners either.'' He was close to your ear and you shook your head no.

“No!” you nearly cry out as he pushes into you. Completely filling you up. You feel tears perk at the corner of your eyes for how desperately you needed him. You even push back on him and he lets out a soft laugh. “H-he's never fucked me like this, god tom please move!” you cry out. His hands come to your waist and he clicks his tongue again.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he teased as he pulled himself fully out and pushed himself fully back in. you cry out, not caring who heard you, you cried out as he fucked into you like you two were the last people on earth.

“Fuck youre so tight.” he threw his head back as he held on to your hips. You felt yourself give up under him. There was no use in you trying to take control anymore when he did this to you. Had you dumbed down just for his dick.

“I need to cum tom.” you cry out. You try and open your eyes to look back at him who has created a rhythm for your body. His head is thrown back and he shakes his head.

“No.” was all he said and you nearly cry more. “Not yet.” was all he said as he went faster.

“Please, please, please.” you begged between a mixture of moans and cries. Reaching back to hold his hands but he quickly moved them to wrap around your waist and touch your clit. Using his thumb to rub gentle circles you nearly

“So cute when you whine like that.” he chuckled. You felt him twitch, knowing he was close too, you clenched your walls around him. You could barely hear his gasp but you have your cheek pushed up against the hood of your car that got you here in the first place.

“Fuck,” he struglld to moan out. “C-Cum for me.” he sped up and your whole body went numb. You swear you pass out for a moment as all you hear are his moans and the sudden feeling of him stopping.

Both heavy breathing you slowly move yourself to get up, at least turn yourself around so you can face a clearly stunned tom. His mouth open just a bit and his eyes are wide.

“Y-you squirted.” he tells you and suddenly you go from feeling like the sexiest person alive to feeling your body heat up in full embarrassment.

“I-i'm so sorry i-i didn't know-” you start to stammer as you reach for your shirt to clean him up but he shakes his head still trying to catch his breath.

“No, It was hot.” he says as his shock turns into a small smirk, cocky that he was able to do that. “Fuck, have you ever done that before?” he asked.

Your cheeks heated up, even though he couldn't see the clear embarrassment you nodded. One time, years ago when you were by yourself. You hadn't touched yourself in over a month and it was just the highest setting of your vibe and the hottest porn star you could find that had done it to you. Never ever had an actual man been able to make you do that. Hell, you were lucky if your ex even made you cum.

“O-Once, once but I was by myself.” you swallowed hard, you could already see the smirk on his face as he knew he was so much better than anyone you had ever had. He didn't even know your ex partners but if he could get you to do that the first time he fucked you then even you knew you didn't need anyone else.

He uses his clean shirt to clean you up. Helping you slip back on your underwear and making sure that you could still walk--you barely could. He helps you into his car. Letting you cool down a bit before he drove out of the garage, driving down the road and it was only about a minute until you arrived at the cutest house you had ever seen.

He lifted you out and brought you inside, passing you clothes that were far better to sleep in than a suit and your completely ruined underwear, you found yourself getting comfy under his bedsheets.

“So im guessing im not going to the bed and breakfast for the night?” you nuzzled into the sheets that smelt of ocean spray and cedarwood. This man was some sort of god, you swore on it.

“Hmm, no. unless you still want to.” he slides under the sheets himself. His hands dont touch you but you gladly lean in and wrap your arms around him. He at first stills, stiffens his whole body before he relaxes for you. He didn't even know what he was thinking. First he helps the pretty girl he worried was dead on the side of the road and now he has her in his bed after having one of the best orgasms of his life.

“No,” you hum against his chest. “If you don't mind.” but it wasn't a question. This time you take control over the situation and fall quickly asleep in his arms. He only lays there, waiting for you to find yourself fully asleep.

Fuck that stupid train, fuck your stupid ex, and fuck him.

Dark roast and sizzling eggs fill your nose. You wake up with puffy eyes, from crying last night embarrassingly in Tom's arms you look down and see you're only in a random stained tee and your underwear. In a way,you thought you hit your head hard enough on the steering wheel that all of this was a dream but it was real. You lay in a grey sheeted bed and hear the sound of music come from the kitchen.

Ideally, if you got on the train, you would have woken up in a hotel with a view of the city and probably eat half of a bagel and drink rich coffee from the breakfast bar before being off to your first conference of the day. But you were instead naked in the bed of a man who was helping you fix your car.

You stumble out of the bed, your legs wobbly, feeling as if you did a hardcore work out you nearly wince. What the man did was something you swore was only in porn. You don't know what kind of magic fucked him over while he works on cars but his fingers were skilled.

“Woah, woah,” Tom came over to you. Plaid boxers and no shirt, you think you died and went to heaven. Your car exploded and you died and went to heaven and if this is what it was then you were perfectly okay with that. “You okay?”

You nod, sitting at the island and only watching him. You knew you had to say a word soon but you didn't know what to say.

“Not so sure how you liked your eggs so I made them scrambled because that's personally how I like them but I can make them any other way you like-” he starts to go off and you only nod.

“No, I like scrambled.” When was the last time you had a breakfast like this? You grew up with servants and your parents are always gone. You never had a breakfast as simple as this.

He gave you a smile, you walked over to the coffee machine and poured coffee into the mug that was already out.

“Not sure if you were a coffee or tea type of person, if you-” before you could listen to his ramble again you shook your head.

“I like coffee. Coffee for the morning and tea typically in the evening.” you tell him and he gives a smile and a sweet nod.

“Me too.” was all he said before he remembered what was happening. “Hey, when do you have to be at that business trip? Or whatever it was?” you nearly spit out the coffee as he brings it up. You knew everything that was happening but honestly you were holding on to the concept you died and went to heaven but you had a conference in probably an hour and who the hell knows where you are.

“You know what,” your heart suddenly calms down. The panic subsides as you take another sip of that coffee. “Fuck them. They have waited for others before and they can wait for me. Fuck the trip, fuck the car and fuck my ex.” you felt good saying it. Tom slid you a plate of eggs and toast and you smiled.

“The car is still better than the train?” He remembers how all of this is about you and your ex fighting and you not wanting to sit on the train next to him.

With a smile, with everything that had happened within the past 24 hours, you pick up the plate and turn to tom.

“I don't think I should've taken the train.”

Permanent Taglist: @hoodiesparker @dahliaspidey @parkersvibes @itssss-a-bean @ppkrtingle @myfinalwords @bocaul @tinyplanet-explorers @sincerlyfan @softbaby-Tom @awesomeblackcottontail @rosebeegraham @stormyholland @unicorn-princess-1999 @spideyyypeter @marshyrebelcloud @oh-epiphany @yeahimcrying @highlydisfunctional1 @disgustangg @pterstingle @quacksonhq @starlightparker @reblogsfics @tomsrebeleyebrow @dreamyyholland @imaginashawnns @alilpunkrock @peterspideysenses @lovely-valllll @lowkey-holland @hannaholland1811 @kthemarsian n @maryjane23 @jillianaholland @dummiesshort @paracutepants @heartofholland @quacksonhehe @tomhollandssecurityguard @illicitparker @ladykxxx08 @bellelittleoff @peterbenjiparker @cherthegoddess @namoreno @sunsetholland @lillatina004 @peterparkersbabygurl @augustdowney @a-daydreamers-day @spideyspeaches @sinisterspidey @mathletemadison

Tagged for mechanic!tom: @londonspidey

#mechanic!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #imagine tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst

482 notes · View notes

nerevar-quote-and-star · 3 years

Note

do you think the companions have a closet of like. flea and tick preventing stuff/medicine somewhere

Imagine someone opens that closet and they don’t know about the werewolf thing and they ask someone “hey why do we have all this dog stuff??? Where are the dogs???”

Hey, not only do I think that, I think it's entirely possible that they have their own mini veterinary closet, including the dog treats. The dog treats are the most important.

I'd like to thank you, though, because as soon as I read this ask, my mind start buzzing, or yipping, as the little dogs, might, and, well. . .

Chasing Tails, or Why is the Circle Like This?

Lucia's sure taking a long time . . .

Lars fidgeted in his seat at the end of the table, casting his eyes once again to the stairwell that led down to the Companions' living quarters. It wasn't the first time he'd sat around their hearth to wait on his best friend and it definitely wouldn't be the last, he was sure, but he always felt a little nervous sitting by himself as large warriors with huge blades went about their business around him. Eating, drinking, laughing . . . wrestling. The first time he'd seen Lucia's papa and uncle get into an all out brawl there on the hearth stones, he'd had the shakes until long after his grandma tucked him into bed.

A thud on the table startled the boy from his thoughts. "Here, kid, watch this for me, will you?" Lars stared wide-eyed as Ria, who was generally the nicest out of all the Companions — aside from Lucia, who insisted she was one despite only being ten — darted back up the steps and out the double doors to the Winds District. Not a moment later, the doors from the training yard banged open as Njada Stonearm — who was definitely the meanest Companion — barged in, eyes aflame like the hearth. Lars shrank back in his seat.

"Ria!" her voice echoed above the crack of the fire and the murmur of a few others talking across the room.

"Not here," called Athis, snickering.

"Jus' missed 'er," slurred Torvar.

A growl left the Nord woman's throat as her eyes swivelled round and landed on Lars, who was peaking out from behind the large satchel Ria'd left on the table. The boy's eyes bulged in horror as she took three long strides and arrived beside him, arms crossed under a face painted with a harsh scowl.

(Sometimes, a lot of times, Lars wished he was brave enough to ask Njada Stonearm to beat up Braith, but he had the feeling she'd either laugh him off — or worse, encourage the Redguard girl to redouble her efforts to kick his—)

"—dumped this here, huh?"

"W-wha—"

A hand, large and strong enough to crush his skull, shook the bag in front of him. "Ria left this here, didn't she?"

"Ye-yeah—"

"Quit mumbling!"

"Y-yes sir, I, I mean ma'am!"

If anyone ever looked absolutely done with the world, it was Njada Stonearm in that moment. Lars squirmed under her glare, but said no more, and the Nord woman grumbled under her breath. "I've gotta hunt down that rabbit brained . . ." she trailed off, eyeing Lars with a cold interest. "You. Take this downstairs and put it in the Circles' supply closet."

Lars tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry, and he let out a strangled cough instead. He choked a gasp when Njada Stonearm thumped him on the back. "Get going, kid," she said as she turned on her heel and marched out the same doors Ria fled through earlier.

With shaking legs, Lars got to his feet and hefted the satchel into his arms. There was a faint clink! clink! of glass, and he wondered if it was some kind of fancy reserve just for the Circle. He knew Lucia's mama was fond of Imperial brandies, so maybe that was it?

He crossed the hall, an easy task as Athis and Torvar promptly went back into their cups once Njada Stonearm had redirected her ire to Lars and so they didn't bother him. It was when he got to the stairs that the wobble in his knees became a full shake. Braith often told him he was infected with the Rattles and no one bothered telling him because it was more fun to watch him convulse like a half dead draugr. Sometimes, like right now for instance, he almost believed her.

One of the men barked a laugh, Lars wasn't sure which, but it jarred his limbs into motion; he eased his way down the wooden stairs, scared every moment that he'd trip, fall, and anger not only Njada Stonearm, but the whole Circle as well. His heart lodged in his throat. If he broke the bottles and made a mess of their contents, would he ever be allowed back in Jorrvaskr? Would he ever get to play with Lucia again?

The heavy door into the basement quarters was an almost reassuring barrier to the boy as he aligned his back with it, arms full of the satchel's awkward bulk. With a grunt, he thrust back, and the door creaked slowly open. When it was wide enough, he slipped around the dense oak, and once again hesitated. Now where? He didn't actually know where the Circles' supply closet was. Though, he thought, shifting from foot to foot with the wide hall empty before him, it might be down near the Circles' private quarters.

The supply closet wasn't really the difficult to find, being one of the few closed doors at the end. The other was the door to the Harbinger's room, but that'd been shut for months since . . . Lars swallowed, coughed again, and with the bag balanced precariously in one arm under his chin, he opened the door.

"What're you doing?"

"Gah!" Lars teetered forward, and if it weren't for Lucia's hand clenching the back of his shirt, he'd have fallen face first into—

"Um, better question: why do your parents' have a closet full of pet care products?" Lars asked, once he was steady on his feet and able to take in the concents of the supply closet.

Beside him, Lucia's face scrunched in clear confusion. Shelves on shelves of bottles, bright yellow and each marked with a label depicting some kind of nasty insect underneath a vivid red X, filled the majority of their vision. Lars' arms almost went slack under the weight of the bag. Was he carrying more of that stuff? Flea and tick repellent? Below the shelves was a stack of huge sacks that smelled a little too strongly of dried meat. Was that—?

"What's all this for?"

Lars gaped at Lucia. "You mean, you don't know?"

She shook her head, teeth gnawing her lip.

"Lucia? Lass, what are you doing in the closet?"

The two kids whirled around to find Lucia's uncle striding down the hall toward them. In a blur, Lucia sprinted to him, and, grabbing at his gauntlet clad arm, hung on for dear life. "Uncle Vilkas! Uncle Vilkas! Did you know about the pet medicine? Are those bags full of doggy treats? Oh! Is Mama getting me a puppy? Is that why she left for Markarth yesterday? Is she getting me a war dog so I can take him with me when I'm doing contracts? I've always wanted a puppy! The Circle always goes and visits the Jarl's kennels and I never get to go!"

"What—"

"I mean, why else do Mama and Papa always smell like they've been rolling around in a dog bed whenever they come back in before breakfast? Or when they're sneaking in during the middle of the night? Or when—"

"Lucia! What are you talking about, lass?" Vilkas, at last, cut in.

"Oh! Well, I was consalt— consulk—"

"Consulting," her uncle supplied.

"Yeah, consulting my beasty, beast, uh, animal guide before I came looking for Lars 'cause we're gonna go hunt goblins in his mom's vegetable garden when I found him in the Circles' closet, which I thought was weird because I thought this was where Papa was hiding Mama's New Life present — so maybe Papa is getting Mama the puppy? — but I didn't get to ask Lars why 'cause he was about to crash into the shelves, and then I'd have had to help him clean up the mess, and I'd rather go hunt the goblins than do chores, so . . ." Lucia rambled on, fast as a dartwing. All the while Vilkas nodded along to what she said, before at length raising a hand to hush her, his pale eyes resting on Lars. The young boy felt his knees start to wobble again.

"What's this, then?" Vilkas gestured to the bag.

"Uh, Njada Stonearm sent me down with it, sir. She um, she said to bring it to the Circles' supply closet . . ." By the end, Lars could barely hear his own voice, but whatever he heard seemed to placate Vilkas. The man took the satchel from Lars', the boy's thin arms falling limp with relief.

"I'll take care of this, Battle-Born. Lucia, you two run along," he said, holding the bag as easy in one hand as one might hold an apple. Lars couldn't help but feel a little envy at the dark warrior's ease and strength.

"Wait," Lucia's fingers twisted together around the hilt of her wooden sword. Lars hadn't even noticed she'd brought it. "I don't understand though! Is it a puppy? Is it Mama's? Will she share him? Uncle—"

Vilkas laughed. Lars never really heard the man laugh before. It was different from his brother's: deeper, richer, almost wolfish, whereas Farkas' laughter was a booming bark. The boy's brow creased at the comparisons, his eyes traveling to the inside of the closet again. There was more in there beside pet medicine and dog food, but before he could read anymore labels, Lucia's uncle shut the door and was ushering them down the hall a moment later.

"You'll know soon enough, lass. One day, when you're in the Circle yourself," he was saying.

"In the Circle? Myself?" Lucia's eyes glittered.

"Aye," Vilkas nodded. He pulled the basement door open and waved them up the stairs. "Then, and not a moment before. And lass?"

"Yes, Uncle?"

"While you're out hunting goblins, keep the little Battle-Born out of too much trouble, will you? Lad needs someone looking out for him." Lucia was already halfway up the stairs, but Vilkas could still reach to ruffle her dark ashy hair, and the girl preened under the attention.

Lars shifted about in embarrassment, but the Companion ignored him.

The two were halfway to his mother's garden, Lucia delivering a flash lecture on the nature of goblins, when a thought struck Lars, hitting him right between the eyes like Braith often did.

If the Companions didn't have any dogs, then why did he hear howling echo from Jorrvaskr at night?

39 notes · View notes

blazingfirepig113 · 4 years

Text

Love is a curse

(gojo x gender neutral reader)

“I know that you’re wrong for me

Gonna wish we never met

on the day I leave”

This is bad.

Gojo thought the moment he felt his heart flutter when he heard (y/n) let out a merry laugh at whatever one of the students spouted out.

This is so so so bad...what a cruel cruel thing.

Gojo glanced away from the sight, scared that if he looked any longer, his heart would explode.

How utterly pathetic.

How utterly pathetic how if (y/n) asks for anything, he’ll give them everything.

Absolutely everything he could give.

If Gojo could buy the world, he’d give it to them.

Why me? Shit, what a stroke of bad luck.

Gojo had cursed every moment his heart fluttered.

“Gojo-san, are you okay? You look like you need to shit.” (y/n) asked, placing a hand on Gojo’s shoulder.

Kind yet blunt. (y/n) was a different breed.

They were brave and strong, able to face situations that can have other’s shaking on the spot.

They were fun and creative, able to lift the mood with just a few words.

And the sharp tongue (y/n) was blessed with...or cursed, some may think, had them caught in terrible situations, sometimes ending with Gojo having to save them.

But everything about them, everything about (y/n), may it be their sharp tongue or the bell-like peals of laughter that accompanied them wherever they went, made Gojo’s heart flutter, constrict, as a flash of fondness, warmth, and softness filled him.

But he knew, from the start, that this fluttering on his heart, this feeling, was bad news.

“Ever so blunt, (y/n). Where’s the class?” Gojo pouted while (y/n) rolled their eyes at him.

“Shitting is normal, Gojo-san. You can’t tell me you don’t shit out all those diabetic sweets you eat.” (y/n) said, crossing their arms over their chest.

Gojo’s gaze lingered on them for a second, his eyes sparkling with an emotion not visible to anyone else because of his blindfold.

Why does it have to be me, (y/n)? Why do you have to be so damn attractive?

Gojo grabbed the reins for his thoughts before it went too far, hiding his clear displeasure with a mocking grin.

“I suppose you’re right. Gotta hand it to you, (y/n) for being so smart.” Gojo praised as he slung his long arm around (y/n)’s shoulder, ignoring the fluttering of his heart; ignoring whatever feelings he had.

Because it’s no good.

(y/n) narrowed their eyes at Gojo.

“Are you mocking me?” They asked flatly, not at all bothered by how close Gojo was.

Gojo felt relieved and hurt at that;

He felt relieved because it was only him who was affected by (y/n) while they remained indifferent...and hurt because of that same reason, because it was only him who was affected.

“Not at all, (y/n). You’re a keen individual, gifted with a talented mind and a sharp tongue…” Gojo trailed off, removing his arm from (y/n)’s shoulder.

He then proceeded to walk away from them, only to dramatically glance back at (y/n) when he was a good few feet away.

“Honestly, all I have is praises for you.” He said, sending them a grin before facing forward and waving for (y/n) to come and follow.

“Come on, let’s buy some dango and sweet tea.” He ushered, acting as if his heart was racing...acting as if (y/n) didn’t make him feel things.

It’s better this way.

If Gojo had glanced back at that moment, he would’ve seen the mask of indifference fall off (y/n)’s face. And he would’ve seen the light tint on their cheeks as a small fond smile painted their face.

“I don’t even like sweet tea, it tastes like water with sugar.”

And Gojo pushed the growing feelings in his chest as he let out a laugh that sounded more in pain than happy.

“I brought you down to your knees

Cause they say that misery loves company”

“If it’s hurting you so much, then just fucking tell them already.” Shoko said, rolling her eyes as she took a long drag from her lit cigar.

The stress Gojo was putting her plus the usual stress from work, had brought her back to smoking.

“I can’t...nor do I want to.” Gojo huffed like a hard headed child.

Shoko let out a sigh as she purposely blew smoke at Gojo’s face.

“If you’re not gonna do it, then stop bitching about it. Don’t drag me down on your little train of misery.” She said.

Shoko deeply cared for Gojo, she did. But he was destroying himself because of his feelings and she’d prefer it if he didn’t drop his emotional burden on her.

Saying what she wanted to say, Shoko had dropped her cigar before stomping on it.

“Face your feelings before they kill you.”

“It’s not your fault I ruin everything

And it’s not your fault I can’t be what you need”

Gojo had wanted to offer (y/n) a shoulder to cry on. He wishes he could.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself.

Because he was scared.

Scared that if he offered (y/n) his shoulder to cry on, he’d only fall deeper for them.

“Stop crying, (y/n). You’re fully aware that life as sorcerer’s is dangerous. We face death all the time.” Gojo said, arms crossed over his chest as a way to stop them from reaching out for (y/n).

(y/n) glanced up at Gojo, nose red and tear stains on their cheeks.

They let out a shaky pained laugh as they wiped their nose and cheek with the sleeve of their shirt.

“Shesh, no need to be so cold…” (y/n) choked out, throat dry.

It took all of Gojo not to engulf them in a warm hug, tell them that it’s okay...that he was there for them.

“Can’t you comfort me, Gojo-san?” (y/n)’s voice was small as they hugged their knees to their chest.

Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks to not cave in to (y/n)'s plea.

“No. I’m not going to give you the comfort that you want, (y/n). Grow up and face that this is the reality we live in.” He said, rather harshly.

(y/n)’s shoulders sag as they buried their face on their knees, letting out a broken laugh.

“How cruel of you, Gojo-san…” (y/n) murmured, their voice muffled.

Gojo gritted his jaw so hard, that he was worried he might break his teeth.

“Get used to it.”

This is the only way.

Gojo thought as he turned on his heel, walking away as (y/n)’s sob racked through the room.

He walked away with a heart too heavy for him to carry.

“Baby, angel’s like you can’t fly down here with me

I’m everything they said I would be”

“(y/n) had transferred to the Kyoto school...they were running low on staff and they had offered to go.” Shoko suddenly informed the snowy haired man one day.

Gojo hummed, acting indifferent despite the bleeding pain in his heart.

He already knew that.

After all, (y/n) had told him they were going.

“Gojo-san, I’ve been offered a position in the Kyoto school…” (y/n) had approached him one day.

Gojo fast steps faltered for a second, before they shifted into a lazy shuffle as his heart dropped to his feet.

“And? Why should I care? Why are you even informing me of this?” Gojo asked, voice emotionless.

He halted and glanced back to see (y/n) bow their head, a small smile on their face.

“I knew you’d ask that….” They murmured.

“I just wanted you to know....I wanted to hear your opinion on it….”

Gojo wanted to tell them to stay. Don’t go.

But he could not allow himself.

Instead, he ignored the sharp pain in his heart and waved dismissively at them.

“Do what you want. I’m not your dad or teacher.” Gojo said dismissively.

Dismissing (y/n). Dismissing his feelings.

Because, as he constantly reminded himself, this was the only way.

When Gojo had moved to walk away, (y/n) spoke up.

“I know I’m not anyone important to you…” They trailed off, biting their lower lip.

No, you’re the most important person to me…

Gojo bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying things that will only make his heart bleed more.

“But Gojo-san is someone very important to me…” (y/n) said as they placed a hand on their chest with a sad smile.

Gojo willed his face to not falter.

Don’t falter now.

“Everyone’s saying how Gojo-san’s so mean and arrogant...a prideful prick, they say….”

Gojo wanted to laugh, because it was true.

Hearing (y/n) practically calling him a prick made the pain in his chest lessen just a tiny bit.

“But I think you’re very kind.”

Gojo jolted in surprise.

“An arrogant piece of shit, yeah...you are one…” (y/n) said, chuckling a bit.

“But you’re a very kind arrogant piece of shit….that’s why I-”

“Don’t say it, (y/n). Don’t you dare say it...please.” Gojo said, quickly moving to clamp a hand on (y/n)’s lips, ignoring how his heart stuttered.

(y/n) roughly shrugged his hand away, holding his wrist.

“Why shouldn’t I say it? It’s the truth.” They said, eyes soft and gentle.

Gojo pulled away, stepping a few steps back, head hung low.

“Because I don’t want to hear it.” He said, voice cracking.

(y/n) took in a deep breath before sighing.

“Alright….but you already know what I was going to say…” (y/n) trailed off.

“Don’t worry, Gojo-san...I’ll be out of your hair immediately….”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time. I guess this is goodbye…”

Gojo didn’t dare raise his head. He didn’t-couldn’t.

Because if he did, he knew he’d ask (y/n) to stay….and (y/n) would. They would stay.

“Goodbye….Gojo Satoru-san.”

With that said, (y/n) was gone, leaving without a trace and taking Gojo’s injured heart with them.

“Why didn’t you ask them to stay?” Shoko asked, knowing that Gojo was hurt upon (y/n) departing.

“Because…” Gojo trailed off, no longer able to hold back the clogging and drying of his throat as his eyes stung with tears.

He never did get to finish his sentence because he had broken down after that.

Shoko had offered him some comfort, already knowing what he was going to say.

Because I can’t love them freely….because my love would be my weakness and I couldn’t bear the thought of putting (y/n) in harm's way...all because I’m in love.

Because if I were to love (y/n), I’d may as well have cursed them.

Because love is the most twisted curse of them all.

#jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gender neutral reader #angst?#jujutsu kaisen #saturo gojo

112 notes · View notes

latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐷𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

꧁𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰꧂

"Mom! Dad's being annoying again!"

You walked into the office only to see your daughter huffing with arms crossed as your husband sat in his chair, busy writing something down.

"What is it this time?" You mentally prepared yourself to hear some silly thing.

"It's nothing dear. I already told her I'm considering allowing her classmate to take her to the school's dance." Hongjoong responded as if he wasn't guilty of anything.

"See? He usually says no. So what's the problem?" You asked your daughter.

"He's making an 'application to date my daughter' to give to my date!" Your daughter exclaimed.

"What?" You walked over to Hongjoong and snatched the paper away from him and began quoting some of it:

"Thank you for your interest? Please allow 4 to 6 years for processing? If you've been rejected, you will be notified by 2 men carrying violin cases? Any false information may result in punishment by dismemberment, crucifixion, Chinese water torture?!"

"Kim Hongjoong!" You threw the paper back at him.

"What?! I'm only trying to look out for my baby! I only want the best for her." He defended himself.

"At this point, you might as well send me to a convent!" Your daughter furiously marched away to go lock herself in her room.

"Are you happy now?" You raised an eyebrow at Hongjoong.

"Not yet. But once I finish these last details on the application, I will be." He smiled as he resumed his task.

You threw your hands up in anger. "You're unbelievable!"

Hongjoong looked back at you and stuck his tongue out.

"If you were me, you'd do the same!"

꧁𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪꧂

Seonghwa kept pacing back and forth in the living room, unable to calm down.

"Would you please stop it?" You finally told him, annoyed by his fidgeting.

"Stop what?" He asked rather confused.

"That! Stop being so dramatic about this. You knew this would happen sooner or later." You reminded him.

"And I sincerely hoped it'd be a lot later. Waaay later." Seonghwa sighed.

"It's just a first date. It's not like sending one of your rookies out on their first mission." You joked to lighten the mood.

"There's a huge difference... this is my daughter we're talking about! My daughter! My beacon of light in this dark world." He pouted.

"Speaking of which, here she comes!" You pointed to your daughter, who is happily skipping over to you two.

"Look mom! What do you think?! Do you think he'll like it?!" She asked as she twirled around in a sparkly red dress.

"You look gorgeous honey. Of course he'll like it! Right Seonghwa?"

You turned to Seonghwa, who just stood there awkwardly, his eye was visibly twitching.

"Does.....does it have to be that short?" He asked.

He let out a yelp of pain when you elbowed him on his side. He looked over at you and you silently warned him to behave.

Sighing, he smiled at your daughter. "You're absolutely beautiful darling."

She beamed with happiness and hugged you both before running out the door once she heard a car beeping. Seonghwa just watched her as she left.

"See? That wasn't so bad right? The overprotective dad mode isn't necessary."

Seonghwa laughed awkwardly at that.

"Haha....yeah right."

As soon as you were out of sight, he took out his phone and dialed a number.

"All units on sector 3 better report to me any sign of physical contact that happens between them. Over."

꧁𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸꧂

"It's already 2:31, she's late." Yunho blurted out.

"What are you talking about?" You asked him.

"I mean school is over at 2, it's only a 30 minute drive from here to there and vice versa. They're late, we gotta make sure they're all right."

You grabbed his arm when he sprinted from the couch.

"Yunho, it's only been 1 minute-"

"2 minutes now actually." He corrected you.

You sighed, praying for patience.

"Point is, it's her first day of school, maybe there was a lot of traffic and you're overreacting. She'll be here soon." You tried to calm him down.

Yunho sat back down and huffed. "I still say we should have just home schooled her."

"Public school isn't going to kill her!" You argued.

"I got the best tutors and professors on speed dial. They're more than willing to give my daughter the best education money can buy!" Yunho repeated what he's been saying for months.

"She needs to learn to interact with people, develop social skills. You're making a fuss over nothing. It's only the first day, and see? Where's the danger? What's the problem so far?" You tried reasoning with him.

"Problem is..... she's not here!" He exclaimed.

Right at that moment, your 6 year old daughter came running in, straight to her father's arms.

"She's here now, and in one piece." You told him.

"Hi sweetheart. Did you have fun today?" He asked as he bounced your daughter in his lap.

"Very! We got to paint, and play around, and at recess, a boy asked me to be his girlfriend and I said sure!" She babbled happily.

Yunho's smile dropped when he heard that last part. He looked over at you, and you were just on the verge of laughing at his reaction.

"See?! Now we got a problem! Some boy is already trying to take my daughter away and corrupt her!" He whined.

"Oh relax Yunho! They're 6 years old! The worst that can happen right now is he gets her sick or something." You shook your head at him.

Yunho held your daughter and looked at her seriously.

"Honey, listen to me. Stay away from boys, they have cooties and they're evil vicious villains who'll just hurt you. Ok? Can you do that for daddy?" He made puppy dog eyes at her.

You face palmed at him.

꧁𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰꧂

"You know Yeosang, you've been having a lot more drinks than usual...." San pointed it out to him.

"I wanna drink tonight to forget and pretend like today didn't just happen." Yeosang said as he downed another shot.

"Yeosang, we've all been there like you were tonight. Trust me, you'll get over it." Wooyoung reminded him.

"Not me! I was the most supportive out of all of you! I was the perfect dad." San smiled, his cute dimples on full display.

"Hey! I was supportive as well!..... sort of. ." Yeosang replied sheepishly.

"Oh yeah? What happened then? Do tell us." Mingi rested his face in his hand, ready to hear Yeosang's story.

Yeosang began reminiscing about what happened a few hours before:

He stood there awkwardly, the young lad that was taking his daughter to prom right in front of him, trying his best to make a great impression of him. But Yeosang wasn't making it easy with his cold icy stare. He just couldn't believe someone was daring to come between him and his daughter.

"I'm ready!"

They both turned and looked over at you and your daughter, all dressed to perfection. The boy's breath was taken away and he was almost drooling. Meanwhile, Yeosang was clenching his fist so much it almost drew blood. After taking so many pictures, she hugged you both goodbye. The boy went to shake Yeosang's hand, but Yeosang instead pulled him in for a caring and ,somewhat suspicious, hug.

"Well then?" Hongjoong asked, snapping him back to reality.

Yeosang gulped.

"Ok. So I may or may not have threatened to cut off his balls if he tried anything...."

꧁𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷꧂

Even though San was extremely close to your daughter and yes he was protective of her, he was also overjoyed and very supportive when she asked for permission to go on a date. He immediately stood up and began bombarding her with questions:

"Who was the boy? Where did you meet? How long have you two known each other? Where do you guys wanna go? How much will you need? Want me to set you guys up at an expensive restaurant? Are you two in love?"

On the day of the actual date, he seemed more excited than your own daughter. He actually hired a photographer to capture every single moment.

"Ok honey I think that's enough photos, the kids might lose their reservation." You tried to make sure they actually made it to the date.

San gasped. "Oh right right! Well you kids have fun and don't worry about paying! I rented the whole thing out for you two!"

He pulled your daughter in for a tight and squishy hug, reminding her how much he loved her and to take care. He also gave the boy a firm pat on the back before watching them get in the limousine and drive away. Even after a few minutes, he stood there silently.

He sighed happily.

"They grow up so fast.....it feels like it was only yesterday when I held her in my arms for the first time....."

You watched San and could tell he was getting emotional.

"Are you going to cry?" You asked him.

"Me? Cry? Pssht! I'm Choi San, the manliest man of all mafia leaders and I do not cry!" He declared bravely.

He then stood there awkwardly before turning back to you. Sighing, you opened your arms.

"Come here. Let it all out." You assured him.

Instantly, San held onto you, crying his eyes out, his heart full of so many emotions.

"Oh my god my babygirl is all grown and soon she'll be leaving me, and I'm sad but I'm so happy at the same way cause I love her so much, and I love you so much and I just miss my baby already even though she's still here!"

You only patted his back and nodded at his sobbing. At least he wasn't putting a tracking device on her.

꧁𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲꧂

You knew it was all bullshit when Mingi said he was desperately needed at the headquarters with the boys. And Seonghwa even confirmed it when you called him and he said that everything was fine, no one called a meeting. You thanked him and hung up. Grabbing your car keys, you sped to your daughter's location, hoping to get there before something embarrassing happened.

You looked around the place, trying your best so your daughter wouldn't see you. She didn't, however you spotted a very familiar shade of red hair hiding behind some bushes. Discreetly, you crept up behind him and smacked his head.

"Ow! What was that for?!" He cried out.

"Song Mingi! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Spying on your own daughter on her first date!" You yelled at him.

"It's my right as a father to make sure my daughter is safe!" He protested.

"Well you can do that....from a distance!"

Without warning, you grabbed his ear and pulled him back to your car to take him home.

"Ok! Can you let go?! I'll go back home with you!" He gave up and walked back with you.

"Good. Honestly, what were you thinking? Oh wait! You weren't." You huffed as you got in the driver's seat.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting your daughter to be safe and make sure her date treats her decently." He pouted like a little baby.

"Well like I said, you could do that from a distance. There's no need to be stalking her out like one of your snipers." You told him as you started the car.

"Yeah.....you're right...." Mingi sighed.

You smiled, proud that he was willing to accept his mistake. That was until he opened his mouth again.

"I mean, why put a tracking device on her phone and not use it?" He stated nonchalantly as he took out his phone

"Song fucking Mingi! I swear to God, if you did that I will make you roll out of the car!"

꧁𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰꧂

"For the last time....No!"

Wooyoung was stubborn. No matter how many times your daughter begged him to let her go to the school dance, he stood his ground and refused. She tried every single approach: she behaved like an angel, tried bargaining and even rebelled like a teenager but to no avail.

"Give me one good reason why I can't go!" Your daughter pouted.

"I'll give you three reasons: One, boys. Two, boys. And three, which is actually the most important one... boys!" Wooyoung was practically dramatic at this point, as if he wasn't already.

"You're going to have to let me date someday!" Your daughter retaliated.

"Absolutely....when I'm cold in my coffin or when hell freezes over. Whichever comes first." Wooyoung said.

Your daughter ended up locking herself in her room, refusing to see her father. It hurt him to have her rejection, but he only did it because he loved her. Unbeknownst to him though, you gave her permission and even arranged for her to be picked up by your friend so she could go to her dance. You hoped Wooyoung didn't notice.

"Where is she?" Wooyoung asked you, crossing his arms over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor.

You sighed in defeat. "She went to the dance. I gave her permission."

Wooyoung began screaming at the top of his lungs, getting agitated.

"Oh relax you drama queen! Her date isn't a bad boy! In fact, he's the sweetest boy ever! You know him, it's San's son!"

As soon as he heard that, Wooyoung felt like he was going to get a heart attack.

"Of all people, she chose San's kid?! Is she insane?!"

Wooyoung took out his phone and furiously tapped on the screen.

"San you little piece of shit! Why are you letting your devil of a son seduce my little angel? Hmm?..... Oh don't give me that! He's just like you! Behind that innocent dimple smile lies a demon, waiting to prey on the innocent and pure so they can corrupt them!! Curse you and your cute dimple genes! I will get you back for this!"

꧁𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸꧂

"So....what are your intentions?" Jongho asked the boy sitting in front of him.

"Excuse me s-sir?" The boy didn't quite understand.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" Jongho repeated as he reached for one of the apples that were on the table.

"Well I... I....I'm not sure. I guess-"

"Oh? Not sure?" Jongho locked eyes with him as he effortlessly split the apple in half with his bare hands.

The boy noticeably gulped and stared at the crushed fruit.

"I I mean! It's only a dance! It's nothing serious-"

"Are you saying my daughter's a joke? Are her feelings nothing to you?"Jongho reached for another apple and split it apart just like the other one.

"I didn't say that!" The boy exclaimed.

Jongho nodded and reached for yet a third apple.

"Listen very carefully to me boy. I love my daughter so much. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her. I only want her to be happy."

He split the apple and set it down on the table.

"So let me make this clear: break my daughter's heart and I will break you. You know like what?" Jongho tilted his head at him.

"Like.....those apples?" The boy hesitantly pointed at the murdered fruit in front of him.

"Hmm? Oh no. Not like those apples."

Jongho smiled and pulled out a watermelon from one of the cushions.

"I'll break you like this watermelon."

Jongho's fist slammed down on the watermelon, effortlessly breaking it in half. The poor boy was now pale, fearing for his life.

"Daddy! I'm ready! Is the driver ready- what's with all the split fruit?" Your daughter asked when you and her walked into the living room.

"Oh! Nothing sweetheart. I was just splitting these for our guest. Gotta have a little snack before. Right?"

Jongho held out a parted apple to the boy, his eyes silently warning him not to say anything of what really happened. The boy simply nodded and took the apple.

"Y-yeah. Your father is really n-nice."

You frowned at Jongho when your eyes met. You knew what really happened. But he simply smiled innocently at you, like nothing happened.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

613 notes · View notes

sprnklersplashes · 3 years

Text

songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending)

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But…

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black. She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-��

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #cadnis ff #cady x janis #space safari #mean girls musical

18 notes · View notes

johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

So It Goes...

full masterlist

Pairings: Rock star/Bassist!Bucky Barnes x female!reader (AU)

Word count: 7,149

Warning: fluff, SMUT! but mostly just me falling in love with bucky, really.

Summary: natasha romanoff aka your annoying roommate coerced you into the howling commando’s live performance at a divebar near your dorm. little did you know, it was going to lead you to the man of your dreams aka the charming rock star boy/bassist, james buchanan barnes.

a/n: this one’s written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan‘s “Little Darlin’s Mysteru AU” challenge. i chose band/rockstar au. here’s another love letter to bucky barnes because i love that man with my entire heart and every fic that i write about him is basically just me expressing my deep affection for this man. hope you guys enjoy this one cause i certainly do! also, rock star/boy band bucky is such a concept omg i’m in love

You laid in your twin-sized bed as you heard the chirping sounds of the birds outside of your window. They were singing cheerily as if they knew what you were feeling and they were celebrating with you. It felt like you were in a Disney movie that you used to obsess over as a kid, where you are the lovestruck princess because you just met a handsome prince who swept you off your feet at first sight.

The birds outside of your window are your animal pals who swoon over you swooning and they spontaneously harmonize and dance to this newfound joy. You couldn’t resist the smile taking over your face. It was too early for you to be awake on a Saturday morning. You were always up by 10 AM. No more, no less. But it was currently 8.45 AM and you still had at least one more hour to get up and be productive.

But not today. Today, you were going to welcome this exhilarating sensation in your bones, and you were going to savour every second of it. Because you couldn’t shake away those baby blue eyes and that suave, boyish charm. The way, they electrified you by first glance and made you tremble when those pupils dilated. You could still feel the way his soft, plump lips hypnotized you last night. And the raunchy way he held you at the bar.

Even when all was said and done, he found a way to haunt you in your dreams.

And you didn’t mind one bit.

You were currently in the middle of a crisis due to your upcoming final week. If there’s any word to describe you as a college student, it would be ambitious. The idea of failing or getting less than B+ makes you go ballistic. You were an active student. You joined multiple organizations that expanded your social life. You got along with mostly everyone in your classes and you had your professors’ respect too for your excellent grades and polite manners.

But your lack of dating life irked no one else more than your roommate, Natasha. You loved Natasha with your entire heart, really. She was like a sister to you. You were an only child so you cherished her older sister role in your life. She was, in fact, several months older than you and she always protected you like her own. Starting from the asshole that broke your heart in high school, despite only knowing him through your story, to incessantly pushing you to stop being such a nerd and have more fun.

Natasha was the kind of woman you don’t wanna mess with. She was loyal, brave and quick-witted. She knows how to keep her GPA high, whilst also maintaining a fun social life. She managed to do it all so effortlessly.

“C’mon, y/n! Just one night! You need to let loose and release all tension on your shoulders, baby. It’s good for your brain before finals start!”

“Noooo, Nat. Rock bands are not my thing and I’d have a higher chance of acing the tests if I study now, okay? Just go. Have fun without me and tell me how it goes.”

“But my boyfriend’s performing, y/n. And I want you to meet him! I promise they are really good. Even if you're not into the music, you can still go for the drinks, right? Also, they’ve got other cute members available so, you might find your own rock band boyfriend too if you go.” She winked. Her smirk was menacing.

“Ugh, I’m not interested in finding a boyfriend, Nat.”

“I know, but wouldn’t hurt if you do, right? Then we can go on double dates and have them write songs about us. Oh God, it’s going to be awesome.”

“Whoa, slow down. I haven’t even learned their names, yet and we are already discussing double dates?”

“Alright, let’s just start with putting on your sexy clothes and meet them yourself. Then we can move onto picking one gorgeous beast for you.”

“What makes you even think that they’d be interested in me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. Have you never owned a mirror? You are a total babe. You just need to get yourself more action.”

“Ugh, I don’t know, Nat…”

“You are going. And I’m not leaving until you get up and put on something cool. I have patience, baby and I’m going to annoy you all night if you stay. What do you prefer? Going out and have fun and meet some cute boys or me annoying you all night so you can’t study productively.” She glared at you. Her tone indicated that there was no compromise.

“Alright, I’m going. But that’s only because I wanna meet your boyfriend, alright? Not because I wanna find a boyfriend or whatever stupid shit you’re thinking.”

“Yay!” She jumped in excitement. Her face was content with joy and satisfaction from succeeding in persuading you. “Alright, let’s dig through your clothes.” She started rummaging your shared closet and observed meticulously each one of your outfits. “Hmm… Let’s try this one!” She picked up a strapless black sequin dress that you hadn’t worn in forever. You didn’t even remember packing it up in your baggage and brought it with you to your dorm.

You began stripping yourself out of your oversized hoodie and high-waisted shorts. You didn’t feel embarrassed changing in front of Natasha, you had seen each other naked many times. You were roommates after all and sometimes, you just had to be comfortable with the fact that you had private body parts underneath and within the course of four years, eventually, you had to get used to flashing one another at some point.

You put it on as you started to feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to wearing skimpy dresses. Already wearing it for less than three minutes, you were constantly lifting the hem of the dress to prevent it from exposing your boobs and revealing your inner thighs. And the material felt itchy on your skin too. “Nat, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just wear a leather jacket and jeans.”

“Nonsense! You look bomb! Give your leather jacket and jeans a break, alright? Okay, turn around so I can see your behind.”

You twirled as she said, restlessly.

Tonight was going to be a longspun night…

The air felt crisp against your skin, as the breeze swept through your freshly curled hair, causing a few strands shading your sight. You struggled to walk steadily in your 7-inch heels that belonged to Natasha because you didn’t have a pair of your own. You were cool with wearing ankle boots pairing them with a sparkly dress. But Natasha didn’t think it was a cute look.

“What? Boots and dresses don’t go along, honey. Oh my, you need a serious makeover!” She was derailed.

You eventually settled with a silk red dress with a seductively low cleavage on the front, exposing the globes of your breasts. You were already as uncomfortable as it is, this dress didn’t make it any easier to act normal.

So you had to endure walking in these deadly shoes of torture, whilst clad in nothing but a scanty material with makeup painting your entire face. Great. What had you gotten yourself into? Damn you, Natasha.

You and Nat were walking arm in arm to the bar where “The Howling Commandos” were performing. That’s the name of the band that Natasha’s boyfriend was in. They have been a group for 5 years now, they had been doing this since they were in high school. Clint and the rest of the members were several years older than you and Nat. As soon as they graduated, they decided that they wanted to keep making music rather than working mundane, dead-end jobs.

Yep, Natasha told you that much.

Clint and Nat had been dating for two years now. They rarely saw each other due to the band’s packed schedule. Although, they would FaceTime each other every night, talking about each other’s days. You heard it all, from their most disgustingly adorable flirtations, to the most inappropriate, not so PG-13 confession.

They would literally pretend to smooch one another through the screen when you were doing your homework or when you had your nose deep in a book. You’d try to cover your ears by putting on your earbuds and turning up the volume so you could give them privacy but also, you didn’t wanna hear them talking about what they wanted to do to each other if both of them were here.

You knew Clint well enough to not feel like you were meeting a complete stranger. Natasha would often tell you to say hi to him and she had told you a lot of wonderful things to Clint. Clint would often talk about the band too on the phone, how someone called “Bucky” would piss him off by stealing his leftover sandwich. Or someone called “Sam” would often interrupt their chat by reminding him that it was soundcheck time.

“I gotta go, babe. Sammy’s not gonna stop yelling.”

“Aw, okay, tell the boys I say hi! Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

It’s like a daily podcast for you every night.

The dive bar where The Howling Commandos were performing thankfully wasn’t that far from your dorm. Natasha was super thrilled when Clint told them that they were going to perform here. They were finally able to see each other after a while, and because this was going to be their last gig until they come back with a new album, he said he was going to stay and spend some time with Nat.

You were happy for both of them. You’d never say it out loud but, a part of you was secretly jealous of their love. They managed to maintain such a fun, loving, and healthy relationship despite the distance and differences. Natasha once told you that she was never one to settle with a man for too long but, Clint changed the game for her. You smiled at the thought. They were genuinely in love. If you were to find yourself a boyfriend, you wanted the type of love that they had.

But not tonight. You were okay with being single. Just because a part of you wanted what Clint & Nat had, doesn’t mean that you actually need it or you’d die. You were too much of a goal-oriented person to be chasing over something that should come naturally. You had grown so comfortable in being alone, that you stopped desiring love so much. It wasn’t getting you anywhere. So you lived your life, being grateful for your friends and family. You invested your time in your education and passion. You were content.

When you arrived at the bar, the room was full with a crowd. You walked in with Natasha trying to make a space for yourself so you could walk through them. You could barely anything else due to the number of bodies blocking your view. Natasha held your hand as she took the lead and fought through the crowd to get to the front, where she could get the best view.

There was a blonde-haired woman standing on the front, so close to where the band were going to play. When Natasha slightly grazed her whilst trying to stand next to her, she didn’t look the slightest bit happy. She glared at Natasha as Natasha noticed. She glared back at her.

“Excuse me, there’s more space in the back, maybe you can stand there instead of cutting through the line.”

“Excuse you, miss. I’m dating the band’s drummer, so I can stand wherever I want, thank you very much. If you don’t like that, then the exit is right there.” She pointed to the door of where we walked in from.

The blonde woman rolled her eyes as she folded her arms against her chest. After you stared at her reaction, you realized that you actually know her. She was in the same social science class with you. You had never really talked to her because she often sat in the back and immediately left after the class was done, but you remembered her name. Her name was Dottie Underwood. Your classmates called her Dot. The ones that she liked anyway.

You decided to stay quiet and let it pass. It’s not like she even recognized you even if you start a chat with her. You don’t think it was a good idea either since she and Nat literally just snarked at each other. You directed your sight to the stage and waited for the famous Howling Commandos to appear.

One of the spotlights turned and highlighted a man walking on stage before he talked into the microphone at the centre. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, a group of brilliant lads, that make all the ladies go feral wherever they go, and their showstopping music are going to make us sing and jump tonight. Please welcome, The Howling Commandos!”

The crowd roared with cheers, the sounds of their enthusiasm filled the atmosphere. Their claps were jovially in sync as four, drop-dead gorgeous young men stepped into the stage as their presence shifted the energy in the room.

The first one was a blonde-haired with breathtaking bone structure, forming a ridiculously handsome face. His hair shone under the spotlight like the sun amidst the clear sky. He had an amiable demeanour about him. His smile was gentle and welcoming. He waved to the crowd and stood directly behind the microphone.

The second one to walk in was a dark-skinned man with an undeniable charisma oozing out of him. He had a neatly trimmed beard that only added to his spicy appeal. His smile was radiant as he also waved the crowd. He stood on the left side of the stage, a couple of steps behind Steve who was apparently the lead singer.

The third one to walk in was Clint. He was everything Nat described him to be. Placid and nonchalant. His smile was amenable as he greeted the crowd. He walked directly to the background, where the drumset was placed. He sat down on the drummer’s chair as he picked up the sticks he was going to play with.

The last one to enter was a literal Disney prince coming to life. His prominent boyish charm completely bedazzled you. His blue eyes gleamed under the spotlight as they lingered on you for a second. He immediately shifted his gaze as he kept walking towards the right side of the stage, but you swore that when he caught you staring dumbfoundedly at him, you could see the flash of a quick smirk on his face.

He only nodded to the crowd as he confidently picked up the bass guitar that was previously placed on the floor and put on the leather straps around his neck. His eyes turned back to you as you found yourself still bluntly staring at him. Something about him just enchanted you. He had that boy-next-door charm about him but also, a bad boy persona that was irresistibly enticing.

That flash of smirk that you saw earlier resurfaced and it was getting harder for you to pay attention to anyone or anything else in the room other than him. His gaze grew more intense as the noises of the crowd faded into the background. You were lost in this lethal game of eye contact until Natasha accidentally elbowed you by screaming her lungs out to respond to the lead singer’s introduction.

“Good evening, SHIELD’s Nest! How are we feeling tonight?” The lead singer vivified the crowd. They responded with a reassuring reaction. “I’m Steve Rogers and these are my buddies,” he turned his head to the left, as he started introducing the other band members. “The handsome guy right there is Sam, and in the back, there’s Clint, our brilliant drummer boy and this ladies’ charmer right here is Bucky.” As he pointed to the magnetic man who had held your attention hostage since he first walked in.

“And we are The Howling Commandos.” He paused for a second before carrying on with his prelude. “Alright, so the first song that we’re going to play tonight is called ‘Rusted Love’. Enjoy.” Steve removed his mouth from behind the microphone and started cueing the band to play. “1,2…”

Sam and Bucky started strumming the first few notes as a few people cheered. Then Clint jumped in, flaunting his talent in mastering the drum with his sticks. The energy in the room felt more energized as people started moving a part of their bodies. Then Steve amazed the room with his sultry voice, singing the words that echoed through the Sound system of the bar.

“I’m a flying kite in a hurricane, you paralyzed me with your touch and your lips got me addicted…” Steve shut his eyes, relishing the rune. You had a feeling that those lyrics wouldn’t just stay lyrics tonight…

They played another four songs that night. The crowd danced, jumped and screamed the words to their song passionately. You, on the other hand, was probably the most tranquil person in the crowd. You didn’t really know much about the band, let alone their music. So when everyone was constantly pushing you because they were too lost in the moment, you eventually tried to get out of the crowd and sat on the bar instead. Natasha was also too lost in supporting her boyfriend, that she almost didn’t notice you leaving.

Through the vibration of the crowd and the music, you had to really lean in to get Natasha’s attention and to get her to hear you. “Nat! I’m gonna sit in the back and wait there. I’m a little thirsty.” She had a giant smile on her face due to the zest the band inflicted. “Okay!” She yelled back, then carried on with her foxy moves.

You struggled to walk through the crowd, trying to not step on anyone’s feet as you made your way to the barstool. What you didn’t notice was, Bucky’s disappointed on his face when he saw you walking out on him. He noticed that you weren’t exactly as thrilled as anyone else. Although, he noticed your stolen glances as you shied away from him when he stared back. He even tried to wink at you once but you immediately looked to the floor, hiding away your blush. He swore he saw the way your cheeks reddened. Not that he wasn’t used to getting that reaction anyway…

You exhaled a breath of relief as you finally broke out of the congested mass of people. You sat on the barstool as you ordered a glass of rum and you waited as the music still reverberated robustly in your ears. You sat there as you started looking through your Instagram. Nat’s icon was the first one to appear in the row and you clicked it to see what you were expecting. She recorded a video of the band, then zoomed in to Clint, as he was ardently drumming the beat.

She put on a heart eyes and fire emoji with the text; “that’s my man!”. The next one was her and you singing along to the second song they played that night. You were able to actually mouth the words after they played the last chorus and you were a quick learner, so you memorized the repeated words easily after the third time. You scrolled through your feed a few more minutes until your order finally arrived.

“Enjoy, miss.” The waiter winked at you. He was probably in his mid-20s, he had warm brown eyes and a sweet smile. His dark hair was slicked back as you stared a little longer than you should. He was obviously attractive, but, you didn’t say anything back to him. You just smiled back in a friendly manner and uttered silenced thanks.

After sitting by yourself for about a half and an hour, like all good things, the show must come to an end. Steve Rogers concluded the show with a final thank you and goodnight as the spotlight shut down, like the drapes closing over a theatrical show. The crowd clapped and some of them started leaving, while others immediately went to the bar to quench the thirst from screaming along to volatile rock music and jumping up and down, getting lost in the tune.

Natasha patted your back as she jumped on the empty chair next to you. Thank God, she was quick on her feet, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to get a seat. “Hey! God, I need a full shot of whiskey right now.”

“Yeah, go crazy.”

She scoffed. “Huh. As if that wasn’t crazy enough, back there.” She signalled the bartender to make an order. “So, what do you think? That was fun, right?” The cute bartender from earlier walked to her as he asked her what would she like to drink and she quickly replied.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

“Pretty good? They’re damn talented. Especially the drummer back there. He totally killed it.”

“Yeah, okay, they are amazing. But you know their music isn’t my kind of music, so can’t say I really enjoyed it that much.”

“Okay, but you must’ve at least enjoyed the view, right? Don’t think I didn’t catch you and bass boy making several eye contacts back there.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You took another sip of your glass to cover your embarrassment.

“Oh my God, you totally do! Look at you blushing!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are! Admit it! You like Bucky, don’t you?” She playfully pushed you to tease you.

“Oh my God, shut up Nat! You’re causing a scene!” You tried to lower yourself, now that you’re able to speak in a normal volume.

“Nope, I won’t stop until you admit it. Don’t worry, y/n, Bucky’s always been a charmer, so I totally get your attraction.”

That caused a peculiar sickness in your chest. It’s not like you were falling in love with Bucky, no. You didn’t even know him enough to like him. He may be an eye-candy but if he’s really as “charming” as everyone is saying, then that means, he’s one of those dangerous fuckboys that you should avoid at all cost. Because that means, he’s probably only going to manipulate you into thinking that he really cares for you, when in reality, he only wanted to get in your pants. Nope, not gonna happen to you. You weren’t going to be a new notch in his belt.

“Well, then that means he is bad news and that gives me even more reason to feel anything but attraction toward him.”

“Oh, no, y/n, I don’t mean it like that. He’s really sweet, and he’s always been the most chill one in the group. Trust me, you’re gonna love him. Just, give him a chance first, alright? I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s into you.”

“Into me? Nat, he doesn’t even know my name.”

“He will.” She winked again, as she took a sip of her whiskey.

Not long after that, Clint appeared from behind, without Nat realizing. He surprised her by wrapping her waist from behind as he whispered into her ears; “how’s my best girl?” Nat was slightly stunned but as soon as she realized it was her boyfriend, her expression instantly turned into a joyful one. “Hi, baby!” They immediately smooched as she wrapped her arms around his neck while standing face to face now.

“Did you like the show?”

“I loved the show, you guys killed it as always. Oh, and by the way, this is y/n, my number one bestie and the best roommate anyone could ever ask for. Now you finally meet her in person!” Her excitement was genuine.

“Hi, y/n! Heard so many great things about you, but you probably can’t say the same, huh?”

“No, actually I can. Nat wouldn’t stop talking about you every night even when I’m blatantly ignoring her.” You joked.

“Well, is that right?” He looked at Nat to assess the truth on her face.

“Yep,” you carried on. “She would say you’re hot, funny and kind, and all these wonderful things. Including the ones that I’m not supposed to hear.”

They laughed. They kissed once more, as Clint stood next to her seat, ordering a drink for himself. Next to you, you could hear Nat saying, “oh, where are the boys? Are they not thirsty?”

“They’re just packing up, babe, they’re gonna join us in a few.”

“Good, ‘cause I think there’s someone y/n would like to meet.” She teasingly wiggled her eyebrows at you, as you sent her a murderous glare. Your lips silently mouthed, “what the fuck?” but Clint picked up her tone and he quickly got the message.

“Oooh, who is it? Is it Steve, Bucky, Sam? Just let me know which one you like and I’ll deliver them at your door tonight, y/n. They’re all single and ready to mingle anytime now.”

You laughed nervously. “No, no, no, no. Nat’s just saying shit.”

She turned her head to her boyfriend and shook it. “No, I’m not. She and Bucky practically eye fucked on stage.”

You instantly slapped her arm, staring deadly into her eyes. “Ouch!” She put her hand on the spot that you struck, even though it wasn’t even that hard. Classic Nat. Dramatic as always. “Nat, you can’t just–”

Before you even managed to finish your sentence, she darted her eyes to somewhere behind you as she pointed at whatever got her distracted. “Oh, here they are!” She smirked. She raised her eyebrows at you before she stood on her feet and hugged the anticipated men.

“Hey, guys! Killer show back there!” Nat started hugging Sam and he kissed her cheek, and then she moved onto Steve and the last one to join was Bucky. You muttered ‘shit’ to yourself as you pondered on how you should act. Should you act like nothing ever happened during the show between you two? Or were you going to address the elephant in the room, and just straight up flirt with him, now that he wasn’t being so closely watched anymore?

You didn’t know which would be the best option so you just took a big gulp and drank down the entire glass of Rum you had left. Maybe if you were less sober, you wouldn't excessively overthink. You weren’t even sure whether he was really staring at you or not. For all you knew, he could be staring at another beautiful girl in the crowd that was standing beside or behind you. And if you act impulsively now, this would be like that cheesy moment on Rom-Coms, where a girl waved back to the guy who she thought was waving at her but it turns out, he was actually waving at another girl who was coming from the same direction as her.

Nope, you weren’t going to be that girl.

So you just smiled and nodded along as Natasha introduced you to the rest of the boys. You didn’t want to be rude so you sat on your chair, facing them with an interested look, even though all you wanted to do was just shrink and leave this goddamn place.

“Hey guys, here’s my bomb-ass bestie slash roomie. Her name’s y/n! Isn’t she stunning?”

When Steve was about to offer his hand to you, Sam immediately inserted himself in front of you and Steve. “Well, hello, good-lookin’. Can I buy you a drink?” Sam, being the cool dude he was, he leaned back against the bar counter on his elbows as he shamelessly flirted with you.

“Nope, thank you. I just had one.”

“Oh, you look like you could use another one. Here, let me get that for you.” He cued the bartender to make an order and you instantly tried to stop him, telling him that it wasn't necessary, but it looks like the bartender was already taking his order for you.

And then, out of nowhere, Bucky suddenly stooped in like a hero. “Hey, Sam, why don’t you back off? This one’s mine, alright?” That elicited a questioning look out of you. “Mine?” He didn’t even know you.

“Oh wait, so this is the one you told us about in the dressing room?” What the hell? You thought. They were talking about you as if you weren’t there at all.

“Yep, so why don’t you fuck off and get out of here before I get myself drunk enough to shit on your bed?” His tone was menacing but you could tell that this was a normal, daily conversation between the two.

“Jeez, alright. I’mma leave. You don’t need to wave your dick all over my face.” Before Sam moved to another spot, he patted you on the back and said, “good luck.”

What? What the hell was that for? The bartender came in with your order and served another glass of Rum right in front of you.

“You don’t need to drink that if you don’t want to.” He carefully spoke to you, as if he was trying to not scare you away.

“No, I think I need to. Tonight’s been a pretty crazy night.” You took a sip, the cold drink felt nice on your tongue.

He chuckled. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Oh, how crazy can it be for you? Isn’t this like, what you do, every night?”

“Yeah, but, you never really get used to it, you know? Sometimes you just wanna sit in the bar and have a nice talk with a pretty gal and hide in the booth or something.”

That… Warmed up your heart. Damn, if this is his way of flirting, it was truly working. You could see now why everyone was calling him ‘a charmer.’ He really had a way with words. And stares. His baby blues really know how to captivate you and froze you on spot.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” He offered his hand to shake yours.

“I’m y/n.” You shook it with a smile.

“Did you like the show?” He asked.

“Gotta be honest with you, buddy, your music isn’t exactly my kind of music. But you guys were awesome.”

He paused for a moment as if he was contemplating what he was going to say next. “Think I got a little distracted up there.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Cause there was this pretty lady in a red dress that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.” His gaze even grew more intense now. He was looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. Then his eyes darted to your lips, as he licked his. And before you knew it, he started inching his face closer to yours as he held his gaze on your plump, painted lips, while you could feel his breath more and more as the seconds went by.

And then… His lips were on yours. It’s like the clock just stopped ticking and every noise faded into the background and you were the only two people in the room. His lips felt soft against yours, and the way he licked your bottom lip made your head spin. You ajarred your mouth to let his tongue enter as it got tangled with yours.

You were aware that Nat, Clint and Steve who were having a conversation are now watching you like hawks, but you couldn’t care less. Not when Bucky’s hands grabbed your face, so he could have more control over your mouth. You were practically out of breath by the time he looked into your eyes, that are now slightly darker than a few seconds ago. He loved the sight of you, with your lips slightly swollen.

“Let’s go somewhere more secluded.” You could only nod and then took his hand after he offered you his as you got off the stool. He led the way and you couldn’t help but notice the glances that were thrown by several women along the way. They were staring at him with incontrovertible full of hunger eyes, one even shamelessly put her hand on his shoulder, as she coquettishly smiled at him. Bucky only smiled back and nodded at her but he kept walking with you in his hand.

Even if you were practically a pair, you felt invisible. Everyone’s eyes were on you, but not precisely on you. This must’ve been something normal to him, you thought. You weren’t used to big crowds and inundated with attention, and you weren’t used with unquestionably holding a stranger’s hand and letting him take you wherever he had in mind. But you did anyway, and you weren’t having second thoughts.

Bucky led you to the cramped lavatory and locked the door. The lack of space made it even harder for you to breathe when Bucky was this close to you. He pressed his body to yours, as he kissed you once more. Slowly, but you felt the spell in your bones. “All I could think about on stage was tasting those luscious lips.”

You were spellbound by his magic. You could barely speak another word when his baby blue eyes were looking at you so intensely like that. But you gathered every cell in your body to utter the words anyway, “do it again, then.” You boldly challenged him.

He grinned a Cheshire cat smile. He grabbed your face again and eagerly consume you with his mouth. He then moved his hands to the back of your thighs to elevate you onto the sink. He put his hand on your thigh and the other hand went to the back of your head as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, while still kissing you even deeper.

He pulled away to stare at your distraught state and asked the question, “can I touch you?”

You licked your lips, as you nodded. “Please.” His mouth was on yours again, as the hand that was on your thigh moved to the bottom your dress, delicately inserted his fingers to feel you against your red lace panties. You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter as he motions his fingers in circle harder.

Your breath quickened. Your mind was getting hazy as the second passes by. The right strep of your dress had fallen off of your shoulder, and Bucky utilized that opportunity to pull down the other strap and he began groping your breast, tenderly pinching your nipple. That elicited a petite yelp out of you. He groped your breast once more as he was still toying with your nipple.

He began kissing your neck, shortly finding your sensitive spot as you threw your head back. You shuddered. Your hands grabbed his hair, wanting to feel him closer. “Bu- Bucky… Please. I need to feel you.”

You didn’t wait for his response and immediately lifted up his shirt. You were stunned by the sight under the dimmed light of the bathroom. Clothes really didn’t do this man any justice. He should never be allowed to wear any coverups, ever again now that you had seen him. He was sculpted by the Gods themselves. His biceps felt robust in your dainty hands and the V-shaped line on his hips led to somewhere you really wanted to wrap your lips around.

Your hands quickly zipped down his jeans and his boxer along with it, and you didn’t hesitate in feeling his throbbing member right there, right then. It felt tremendous in your trembling hands, and you felt it getting harder with every stoke of your palm.

“Oh, fuck, doll, don’t stop.” His voice was raspy in your ears. It was the sexiest goddamn sound you had ever heard.

“Yeah, just like that. Go faster, doll.” He sucked your earlobe and his hand fisted your hair, making a mess out of it. You didn’t mind one bit. You wanted to be a mess for him and only for him. You somehow still managed to pamper him with all the senses you had left, even if your mind was clouded with every part of him.

“Bucky, put it in me. Please.” You begged with a quavering voice.

“Your wish is my command, doll.” In a second, he pushed into you and it sent an electrifying jolt all over your nerves. You threw your head back in mingled pain and pleasure. He felt even more full now that he was fully seated inside you. He lifted you from the sink and pushed you to the wall on the opposite.

You circled your arms around his neck as your back was slammed against the concrete. Then Bucky began thrusting vigorously. You shut your eyes and moaned his name. Bucky, on the other hand, didn’t. He kept his eyes wide open to watch you with full attention. He loved seeing the way you were drunk in him. The way you forgot your name more and more every time he slammed back into you.

He loved the squelching noises ringing in his ears, better than the melody he was used to creating in the studio. The sound of your heartbeat was far more gratifying than the way Clint played his drum. Oh, how he could write an entire album solely about you in this state alone.

“You feel so good around me, doll. So. Fucking. Tight.” Your moans became louder with his filthy words in your ears.

“I’m gonna make you mine.” This time, his voice was sultry. It was rather beguiling than mortifying.

His hips kept moving and out of you with a vehement tempo, and then just like that, you crumbled. You screamed your pleasure, not caring if anyone could hear you. Bucky was still moving, trying to reach his own climax. Shortly, he was with you. He unleashed his cum deep inside you, adding the mess that was dripping all over your thighs.

You were a beautiful mess. And Bucky loved it.

After a few minutes, coming down from your high, you breathed into Bucky’s neck, not wanting for it to be over yet. You were a little scared that Bucky was going to walk out and pretend nothing ever happened between you. You didn’t know how many bathroom stalls Bucky had brought different women to and fucked them silly right there. You had a lot do unravel about him, yet, you weren’t certain whether he wanted to let you in or not.

“You okay?” Bucky whispered into your ear. You only nodded, still a little hazy from ecstasy.

“I’m gonna put you down now, yeah?”

“Okay.” He slowly set you on your feet, as he was still staring at your face. You leaned against the wall, trying not to collapse. Bucky picked up his shirt and put it back on along with his jeans and boxer.

“Let’s get out of here.” Bucky offered you his hand, like the gentleman that he was as if he hadn't just fucked you into oblivion in a public restroom.

You took his hand with a smile. You didn’t know what was going to happen after you walk out of the door, but you were going to savour every second of being in his arm if this was going to be last time you’ll ever see him.

You went home with a contented smile on your face. You were like a teenage girl who had just been asked to prom by her crush. How could you not, when Bucky offered to walk you home and left a kiss on your cheek before he called it a night?

Natasha was going to stay at Clint’s hotel, so you were supposed to walk home alone. You knew eventually this was going to happen but Natasha and Clint used it as a reason so Bucky and you would spend the night together too. You didn’t mind one bit, though. You wanted to elongate your time with Bucky and your wish was granted.

You offered him to come inside and stay for a little while, you were secretly hoping that you could go for the second round, but Bucky only chuckled and shook his head.

“Not tonight, doll. I ain’t that kinda man. And you need rest. But I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” Then you and Bucky exchanged your numbers and he waited until you were really gone from his sight.

You walked up to your dorm with butterflies in your stomach and sparks fly all trailing over your footsteps. Thank God, Natasha wasn’t here. If she were, she would’ve relentlessly teased you all night and made you admit that she was right to coerce you to come.

And you would’ve had to admit that she was right. And you didn’t like admitting that you were wrong.

But tonight, you were going to admit it to yourself though. Sometimes, doing something that frightens you the most would endue you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.

And you were going to thank your lucky stars tonight for embedding Natasha Romanoff in your life because, without her, you would’ve stayed in your shell and Bucky could’ve fucked someone else in that restroom instead of you.

That might’ve happened in another universe, but not tonight. Tonight it was you and you were really hoping that you were going to see him again in your dreams tonight. You had one taste of him and it wasn’t enough.

Bucky texted you not long after you took a shower.

“Dreaming of me, yet?” Wink emoji.

“Well, if I were, I wouldn’t be texting you right now, would I?”

“That’s true, but at least you’d be drenching your sheets because of me and I don’t think I have a problem with that.”

“I don’t need you to do that, maybe I can use some toys in my drawers tonight. They seem pretty bored.” Thinking emoji.

“Oh, doll, you are killing me here…” Drool emoji.

“You like it.”

“I do.”

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, doll. Thinking of you here.”

You turned off your phone and the screen went black. You changed into your pyjamas and washed off the remnants of your makeup and let the slumber take over you.

Bucky’s face loomed over you, somewhere in a fancy balcony, the view of the city stretching over, added to the beauty of the scenery. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. The first couple of buttons were unbuttoned, giving you a majestic picture that he was. His hands that were in his pockets, took yours as you exerted yours to him.

He leaned in with a bright smile under his stubbly face, his blue eyes sparkled like Sirius star.

“Fly with me, doll.”

“What if I fall?”

“Then I’ll catch you.”

522 notes · View notes

tell-tale-taeil · 3 years

Photo

A customer (Chapter 1 out of 2)

Protagonists: Jeno Lee, original character, NCT Dream members mentioned Genre: mystery, noir, self-knowledge “Jeno wanders to a mysterious bookstore where he encounters even more mysterious individual, but somewhere deep down Jeno knows that this story is actually only about him.” TW: none

See other members’ stories here:

TBA

Author’s note: When I saw this particular moodboard, an idea sparked inside my mind. With a constant support from my friends, I finally finished the first half of the story that I am presenting to you now. Thank you for your love and kindness, this is for you, I hope you’ll like it :) Special thanks to Woo and Volpe for proofreading <3

Any feedback, reactions, comments, recommendations or ideas for other members’ stories are welcomed, I wouldn’t mind turning this into a series.

Tagging: @neocluefor , @your-local--trashcan Let me know if you want to be added!

A dark, dim evening, the sun had just set, bits of the dusky orange sky shone through the maze of power lines, chimneys, rooftops and posts. As Jeno was walking down an empty tucked away backstreet, he felt like he set foot on a hidden crossroad between two worlds. The feeling of the unknown and the unexplored sent shivers down his spine and he quickened his pace, as he did not wish to get held up at here any longer than necessary. He told his manager he just wanted to grab something warm to eat and stretch his legs a little, but the truth was… He wanted to be alone.

Not so long ago Jeno realised he has a very rare gift – a gift of invisibility. Wherever he’d go, no matter how many people surrounded him, he felt unseen and unnoticed. Jeno, we need you to voice over this ad. Jeno, we need you to shoot a dance video. Jeno, we need you to smile for the photos. No, no, do the thing with your eyes, yes. Oh, you’re still here? We don’t need anything now. Sorry, were you saying something? Listen I gotta go, talk to you later maybe? Everyone knows Jeno the idol, but how many people have heard of Jeno the person? How many people remember Jeno the friend from school, Jeno the boy next door? What’s the point of rushing back into dorms, if he’s going to feel all the same? At least at here I can hear my own thoughts for a change. Without having to fight to get a word in. Noone’s interested in what you have to say anyway, so be a man, Jeno, and go sulk somewhere where people don’t have to look at your sorry face. Hmm, jjamppong sounds nice.

He walked where his feet led him, hands in the pockets of his coat, eyes staring blankly on the passing pavement tiles, red tiles, black tiles, grey tiles, shapes and figures, forms and contours. His mind unfocused, his thoughts scattered. Stop. Wait. Like in a dream, he saw himself standing in front of a narrow door, black paint flaking away, a few variously shaped and randomly placed yellow window panes, a big brass handle waiting to be pulled. He noticed a little oval plaque in his field of vision and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a bookshop. A minute passed, maybe ten, maybe an hour. Jeno glanced around, scratching his head. „Uh… good evening!“ He bowed his head a little, even though he didn’t see anyone at the counter. Nevertheless, he felt like he’s being watched, scrutinized, evaluated. Something was staring at him and Jeno suddenly wished that he was invisible again. He turned his head to where he felt the uncomfortable feeling coming from and there it was - behind the desk, on the left side of the wall, squished between large overflowing bookcases, right next to a tall wooden coat-stand shaped like an old tree - a red door with a big round opened eye painted on it. The door was opened, just a few centimetres, and a faint piano music was coming from inside. Come in, if you dare.

Jeno cleared his throat. Might as well look around properly, before they come back out. It’s no use of shouting or trying to make myself heard while that song is still playing. Listening to the melancholic but somewhat promising tune, Jeno inspected the surroundings. The shop looked messy and untidy. Chaos was the king of this castle, carelessness the lady of this household and together they ruled over their tiny land made of heaps of books, magazines and papers haphazardly placed on each other, shelves full of postcards and pictures, walls covered with ornaments and embellishments. Without a single tag or label in sight, Jeno wondered how could anyone find anything in here. He imagined the miscellaneous objects flowing into the shop and never leaving again. His gaze landed on a flashy pink paper packet filled with chewing gums in a no less showy wrapper on one of the shelves. Cool, a freebie! He reached for the gum, unpacked it and threw it into his mouth only to immediately pull a disgusted face as he chewed into the candy. It was like biting into a tasteless rubber. He spit it back out into the crumpled wrapper, put it next to the rest of the unused gums and set out to look for a trash can. He tripped on the thick dusty carpet and nearly stepped on something that looked rather expensive. This must be a bookshop with super rare prints and antiquities of some kind, this isn’t a place for me, I don’t fit in here, I should leave. And so, he stayed, bound in the place by a force of increasing curiosity he did not quite understand.

The piano stopped playing. Perfect, now’s my chance. „Hello? You, uh, have a customer! Heh…“ he stuttered awkwardly. Jeno wasn’t the type of a person who would enjoy excessive attention. If he ever tried to voice his opinion and was met with disregard or unconcern, he would simply think it was because his opinion on that matter was stupid and pointless. That’s why he was fairly used to this, not being heard. The only difference was that usually the rest of the members would fill the room with their chatter, so his lack of involvement in the group activities would normally go unnoticed. Unlike here, where the only sound was a deathly silence and Jeno’s thoughts humming in his head. He already spoke twice, what more does he need to do to be heard? Raise his voice? I just want to buy a book and get out of here. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak and right at that moment, the piano started playing again.

„Wha-, are you kidding me?“ he mumbled quietly under his breath. He looked around, confused, as if he was looking for understanding and sympathy from the other angry customers waiting for their turn to be served. He was the only one here and yet they’re making him wait. What is this, a private concert? Did they possibly saw him coming? Did they think that they’ll impress him with playing lowkey creepy piano melodies? This better not be a prank. He really wasn’t in the mood for fans and he didn’t think he could fake a smile at this hour. But he didn’t notice any hidden cameras, or any security cameras at all for that matter. He paced around the room nervously, scratching his neck. That’s it, I’m leaving. I don’t need that book anyway. I don’t need anything. If they don’t want me here, that’s okay, I’ll do just fine on my own.

He made a few strides towards the front door and then turned around again. „Hellooo! I came here to ask about books! Books that you happen to be selling!“ he raised his voice to the most pleading yet still polite level. The piano stopped again and Jeno gazed hopefully at the red door. He started walking back to the counter, slowly, carefully, as if he didn’t want to scare off the possibility of finally being served. He leaned on the desk, ready to place his order, tapping his fingers impatiently on the dark wooden surface. And just like that, as if it wanted to laugh directly into Jeno’s face, the piano started playing yet another tune, as impatient as Jeno himself. He pursed his lips and bent his head down. What the heck is this place, huh? A bookstore or a concert venue? At least serve some coffee and cake next time! He could just leave, never come back and forget about this place. But he really needed that book, he’s been looking for it so long, and he knew, he just knew, that this is the right place to look for it.

„Alright!“ Jeno raised his head and pointed his index finger to the door, from which the music was coming. „I’m going in there! And I’m going to knock real loud, so you better not be scared or surprised or angry!“ I doubt they can hear me, he thought, as the music only grew louder and louder. Okay, here we go… He approached the door behind the counter, cautiously, and with his finger still pointing forwards he tapped on the red wood with his nail a few times, gingerly, like he was expecting the door to bite his hand, after a while he shook his head and finally made a few feeble knocks. He put his head inside with a quiet: „Excuse me…“ and peeped into the backroom. As soon as his foot touched the threshold, the music stopped playing and Jeno opened the door wide. The room was small and empty, safe for the piano by the wall. No other door, windows, cabinets, electrical appliances, boxes, merchandise, not even trash. Just four bare walls and the damn piano that he swore was playing just a mere second ago.

Jeno gulped, his hand on the doorknob, his feet midstep, his whole body ready to run in the even that something would go wrong. Now now, be brave. „Hello?“ his voice was dry, hoarse and small. Goosebumps covered his nape. „Oh! A customer!“ said a voice behind him. „JESUS CHRIST!“ Jeno nearly fell back onto the ground, as he made several hurried steps backwards, tripping over boxes, books and papers, knocking over the tree coat-stand which embraced him in its patulous grip, making him feel trapped. „Can I help you?“ said the voice and as Jeno’s ragged breath started to decelerate again and as the stars stopped dancing in front of his eyes, only now he saw a pale face hovering in the shadows of the dimly lit place. The initial shock was over and, gradually, the face grew hair, and connected with a torso, arms and legs. „I…“ Jeno stuttered as he finally untangled himself from the clasp of the coat-stand and stood straight, „came here to buy a book.“ He clutched his hand near his heart and blinked hard for a few times. Get a grip, man, get a grip. „Then you’re in the right place! After all, this is a bookstore and we store all kinds of books,“ smiled the face that no longer resembled a ghost, but a person. „I’ve been… waiting here for 15 minutes… at least.“ He tried to sound angry, but the truth was he wasn’t really sure of how much time he actually spent here. Oh my god. A thought just crossed his mind. What if they’re already closed and I didn’t notice and just practically barged in here demanding to be served?!?! He wiped his forehead and opened his mouth to apologize for his intrusion, but before he could say anything, the figure in front of him spoke again. „Gosh, but I didn’t hear or see you at all!“ said the person, covering their red coloured lips with their hand. Typical. „I… tried to…“ Jeno sighed. If they didn’t hear me, I should have made more effort I guess. „I apologize, I’m sorry for the inconvenience I caused you.“ He bowed his head slightly. The person, dressed in a silky black dress that rustled with every step, fixed their dark eyes on Jeno’s apologetic face and shook their head disappointedly. They passed Jeno, who hurriedly backed out of their way, bumping into the red door, oh, I could have sworn the eye was open. huh, weird, and started to rummage through the bookshelves and bookcases, opening drawers and cabinets, dancing around all the clutter with their feet bare, without knocking over a single thing.

„So?“ asked the bookstore owner, combing through a particularly overflowing drawer. „Sorry?“ „Which book are you looking for?“ Jeno resisted the urge to facepalm himself and laughed nervously instead. „Ah, the book…“ Wait, the book? What book? „Umm… the book,“ he frowned. Why is he here again? He finished his schedule, yes, and then got out of the car sooner than the rest, because…? Because I wanted to buy a book? Uhh… I guess? „Um, yeah, I was hoping to get a book about the history of-“ „Hey!“ the character was now standing in the middle of the room, their arms crossed in an irritated manner, the long red painted nails tapping angrily. „Did you eat my chewing gum?“ You IDIOT! And you even left the wrapper and the actual gum right there on the shelf, ugh! „I’m really sorry,“ Jeno started apologizing at the double, „it was just sitting there, I thought-“ „How did it taste?“ asked the owner. „Um…“ Jeno blinked a few times and frowned. „Weird,“ he answered, looking down at his feet, like he was feeling guilty and disappointed at the same time. „I remember really liking this brand and it surprised me that is tasted so… stale,“ he answered truthfully. The woman sighed. „No wonder. It’s a special edition, a collectible. It’s been sitting here for five years. And now it’s ruined.“ She took the whole package in her hands and shook her head, discontented. Who the hell stores a pack of freaking chewing gums? „I guess I should have treated it better, maybe all the exposure made it tasteless and bland.“ She clicked her tongue. „What a shame. But at least the wrapping is still colourful and pretty to look at.“ „Uh… yeah. Sorry about that.“ She put the gums back in place and resumed with the thorough scouring of the area. „What book did you say you wanted?“ Oh, yeah, the book. The damn book again. „Ah, yeah, um… I was interested in the techniques of-“ „How about this one?“ The woman, currently kneeling down by one of the huge bookcases, proposed. Jeno stared at her, eyes wide. She reached under the furniture, scrabbled and felt around a bit, until she triumphantly retrieved a blue hardback tome. Just what is going on in here?

Jeno watched the woman get up again, dust down her knees with a sigh, and then walk back behind the counter. She put the book on the desk and Jeno finally got a good look. The jacket was dusty, creased and torn in a few places. There were no pictures or details, it was just… blue. „Sound…” he read out loud. „Sound?“ Jeno raised an eyebrow. „That’s the title, yes.“ „It looks like a… heavy reading.“ He took the book in his hands to weigh it, it must be at least 500 pages long. „And pretty expensive.“ „It’s a poetry book, if you’re worried about the pages. And you don’t have to pay me for it.“ „Ah, I-… Wait, what? You don’t want me to pay you for it?“ „No, because I am not selling it to you. I’ll only let you borrow it. I‘ve always wanted to read it, because I am curious about the story, but… Do you sometimes get the feeling, be it a book, a movie, a photograph, or even a new pair of shoes, that it’s calling out to you? And when you finally get it, it’s like it’s your missing puzzle piece that you didn’t even know you need and it makes you complete?“ „I… guess, yeah.“ But not really, no. I can’t remember the last time I had this feeling. „Well, turns out, this book doesn’t complete me.“ She packed it in a plain paper bag and sealed it with a decorative tape. „But it might complete you,“ the owner said expectantly, sliding the wrapped book towards Jeno. He touched the paper and for a while, the room drowned in complete silence and time stopped, like a movie that froze and only showed a single frame. A frame with a book wrapped in a plain paper bag in the center, a woman’s hand with red fingernails touching it on the right, a man’s veined hand touching it on the left. Jeno’s hand.

He moved his fingers the tiniest bit and with them, the book. His body was immediately hit with a wave of electricity, the time unfroze and Jeno sighed heavily, leaning against the counter, like he just ran a hurdle race. „Will that be all?“ asked the owner with a kind smile. „I… can’t just take it.“ „You already did.“ She pointed towards the book Jeno was hugging anxiously, like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. He looked down, sighed again and finally stood up straight again. „I can’t take it for free. Even though I’m just borrowing it. How do you know I won’t run off with it?“ „Are you a thief?“ „No, but… I could be!“ „Well, in that case… How about you leave something behind then, like a pledge? I quite like the ring of yours,“ she pointed on Jeno’s hand, which he quickly pulled away. „That’s… it’s not anything fancy, and it’s bent, twisted… it’s worthless.“ „I’ll lend you a thing that’s worthless to me and you’ll lend me a thing that’s worthless to you. That’s a fair deal I’d say.“ She held out her hand. Jeno hesitated. What will the others think when he comes back without his friendship ring? They probably won’t even notice. „Alright…“ he took off the ring and rolled it around for a bit in his hand. Then, with a guilty feeling, he placed it in the owner’s hand, immediately regretting his decision. „Thank you for your purchase, have a nice day and see you whenever!“ he heard the woman say with a smile, pocketing the ring quickly. Then the door behind him shut with a loud bang and he was staying outside, with a book he didn’t know he needed and without a ring he didn’t remember wearing.

#Lee Jeno #Jeno #NCT Jeno #NCT #NCT Dream #NCT fanfic #Jeno fanfic #NCT scenarios #NCT Dream scenarios #my writing

33 notes · View notes

skarsgard-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Fell in Love with a Girl

Description: Axel helps his girl overcome her biggest fear, gaining a new favorite canvas.

Warnings: Needles, body image issues, sexual content (you must be 18+ to ride this roller coaster), references to spanking

Note: This is technically a continuation of this imagine, but you can read it as a standalone and it will make sense. The title is a reference to the song by The White Stripes.

Usually the tattoo parlor buzzed with activity on afternoons like this, “Back in Black” pounding over the speakers as the artists rolled up their sleeves and leaned over their human canvases, executing the visions of their clients better than they could articulate them. But on this particular day, Axel had closed the shop early so he and his girl could have the place to themselves. He told her to pick something to listen to, knowing she was more of a Fleetwood Mac kind of girl than an AC/DC fan. She was tense as she took her seat in the chair, watching him arrange everything he would need on the cart beside him. She swallowed nervously, picking at the soft leather on the arm of the chair with her fingernails and trying not to think of the needle.

She had done everything he told her: she’d moisturized her skin and kept herself hydrated and had forced herself to eat a substantial lunch even though her stomach had been sick with nerves for days. “I don’t want you to pass out in my chair,” Axel had warned. It was the last thing she wanted to happen. She had seen how pale he was after she fainted trying to get her flu shot at Walgreens that one time, and it would be so much worse if it happened here, in a situation where he would surely blame himself.

Even though she was terrified, she kept thinking how much she needed this—for him to use her as a canvas the same way he did those other girls who came into the shop, already tatted up and each of them so bold and excited for him to get to work. Only this time it would be his lover, and every time either one of them looked at the black lines on her skin, they would be reminded that she was his girl—his only girl—and she had trusted him with her biggest fear.

“I don’t want you to do this just because you know I think it’s hot,” Axel said the morning after she first brought up the idea of her getting a tattoo. He was standing in front of the fridge wearing a grey tank and his boxer shorts, drinking orange juice out of the carton.

“I’m not.” She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and pushed it into his hands. He blinked at the glass as though he had never understood its purpose, then poured some juice into it.

“Then what made you change your mind?”

She wasn’t sure how to explain it. Each of his tattoos told a story about who he was, even the crudest ones. She loved the way they turned his body into something more than flesh—into something on which to hang those stories, like paintings in a gallery. She loved the way they distinguished his body from every other man, how she could follow the map of signifiers with her tongue and find the various little spots that made him moan.

The girl in the locker room at the gym had caught her eye immediately. She had watched her towel off and rifle through her backpack, completely unhurried and unashamed of her own nakedness, a wild spray of flowers blossoming all along the curve of her hip and trailing over her lean thigh. She wasn’t sure if she was jealous of the girl or infatuated with her. On her way home, she had imagined Axel working on a tattoo like that, sitting for hours as he seared his artwork into the girl’s skin, listening to her chatter about this piece she wanted to get under the curve of her breast, or that piece she had on the back of her neck. As the endorphins from her workout wore out, she felt so frustrated that her own phobia kept her from sharing that kind of moment with Axel.

She wanted to look in the mirror and admire her lover’s artwork stretched across a part of her body that had always made her feel self-conscious. She would never be as lithe as the girl at the gym. She had more curves than she liked—plenty of soft parts that Axel loved to grasp and squeeze but which never matched the ideal body she pictured in her mind. She had started to think that a tattoo would help her look at her body the way her lover did, as something to be admired.

Axel stared at her quietly as he leaned back against the fridge, holding the glass of orange juice like it was two fingers of whisky. She didn’t know how to answer his question.

“It’s as much for me as it is for you,” she finally said. “I promise.”

But now she sat in that chair feeling like she was waiting at the office of a very strange dentist, imagining every needle that had ever pricked her skin and listening to her heart pounding in her ears over the sound of Stevie Nicks’ vocals. Axel’s hand closed over her own.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was soft, but reassuring. “I got you, okay?”

She looked at him and tried to put on a brave face, swallowing hard. “Okay,” she said.

Axel studied her for a long moment and leaned over, cupping her chin in his hand as he kissed her. “We don’t have to do this,” he murmured against her lips. Her heart beat even faster.

“I want to.”

Even though her voice sounded small, Axel could tell she was sincere. He nodded and straightened up. “I gotta grab a few more things,” he said, then gently tugged on one of the belt loops of her jeans. “These are gonna have to come off.”

Her throat felt dry even though she had been drinking nothing but water for two days. She watched Axel disappear into the back of the tattoo parlor. It was the simplest, most obvious request, but it made her feel like a teenage girl about to lose her virginity to her boyfriend. She kicked off her sneakers and shimmied out of her jeans. It felt so wrong, sitting there in the shop wearing nothing but a t-shirt and her cotton panties covered in pastel polka dots. By the time Axel returned, her cheeks were flushed pink even though the rest of her face was pale and she looked as though she was going to be sick.

Axel sat down on a stool and tried to keep his own misgivings from showing on his face. He’d had plenty of squeamish clients before, but they were just clients. Usually they brought someone else along to hold their hand and talk them through the process while he focused on getting the tattoo done, preferably quickly, if they could tolerate it. This time it would be his girl sitting there, scared shitless, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to comfort her and work at the same time. He needed to give her something else to focus on.

“You okay, kitten?” he asked.

She nodded a little, chewing on her lower lip. Axel wanted to say to hell with the whole thing and capture that lip between his own teeth instead, but he didn’t let on.

“Let me show you what it’s gonna look like,” he said. They had talked about the design for weeks, compiling a list of her favorite kinds of flowers and debating on what colors she might like if she ever decided to have the tattoo filled in later. He showed her the design, holding it over her soft skin and pointing out the one dahlia blossom she had agreed to start with on the part of her thigh that would be the least painful. She smoothed her hand over the design and looked at Axel.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, her gaze darting toward the tattoo gun on the cart beside the chair.

Axel had an idea. He smoothed his big hands over her thighs and gave her hips a squeeze, enjoying the give of her curves under his palms and the way her body became so responsive to his touch. He pushed her panties out of the way and leaned down, kissing her along her pelvis and stopping just above her center.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and tell me if you need a break, right?” he asked, pulling her panties off completely and tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans.

For a moment, she couldn’t make a sound. She stared at him with wide eyes, nodding.

“Hm?” he asked as he nipped at her skin, waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“You’ll tell me to stop?” He wanted to make sure she understood, that she wouldn’t push herself too far in an effort to be brave for him.

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to squeak out a response. “Yes, I will.”

Axel kissed her skin one more time, sending a shiver down her spine. “Good girl,” he murmured. He sat up and put on a pair of gloves, then started prepping the area on her thigh with alcohol.

It felt cold on her skin, but all she could think about was how the lower half of her body was completely naked, how the stubble on his face had tickled her skin as he kissed her. She had watched other girls get thigh tattoos. They usually pushed their jeans down just far enough for him to work, keeping themselves as covered up as possible—even the ones who looked at Axel as though they secretly hoped he would suddenly whip out his cock and tell them to get on their knees. She felt the leather seat below her bare ass and tried to concentrate on something other than her own arousal that had gathered between her legs when he had kissed her. She felt so exposed, sitting like that in the tattoo shop, where there would usually be half a dozen people sitting around. It was only her and her lover now, but it still seemed so dirty.

“You’re the prettiest canvas I’ve ever seen,” Axel said as he traced the design onto her skin. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe the sweet things that came out of his normally filthy mouth. It made her heart flutter. He finished transferring the design and had her look it over for approval. Even though it was only a single flower, she couldn’t believe how beautiful it was—the way its delicate petals looked like they were opening, shining with dewdrops and framed by leaves.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered in admiration.

Axel winked at her. “That’s because it’s you,” he said. She thought she would melt into the chair right then as he turned to prep the tattoo machine. “Lay back and try to relax, sweet girl.”

She leaned back in the chair and did as he instructed, squeezing her eyes shut so she wasn’t tempted to glance over at what he was doing. If she saw the needle, she felt certain she would call the whole thing off. She thought instead of how she would trace her fingers over the design later, a tangible reminder that she belonged to him, that he loved her so tenderly. His smooth voice interrupted her reverie.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he said. “Here we go.”

She inhaled sharply and tried to relax as she felt the sting of the needle on her skin. It wasn’t as bad as she imagined, but her heart began to race and she forgot to exhale.

“That’s my girl,” Axel purred. “Keep breathing for me, okay?”

She exhaled then, and forced herself to take slow, steady breaths. The pain began to subside after a few minutes and was replaced by a strange numbness. Her skin still smarted, but it felt manageable, and as Axel continued to talk her through it, she began to relax. She thought about how he sometimes slapped her ass during sex—how she would yelp, but always pushed her ass into his hands afterward, wiggling her hips and hoping for more. Once he had given her such an intense spanking that her ass was red for days. She couldn’t sit at her desk at work without it smarting and reminding her of him, of how he could turn pain into pleasure. She felt her face growing hot as she thought about it now, a gentle throb of desire drawing her attention to the place where he kissed her.

“Talk to me, kitten,” Axel said, glancing up at her. Her brows were furrowed together and her eyes were shut tight as she took slow, ragged breaths.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled.

“I’ll be done before you know it.”

He finished the outline and began shading the design, speaking soft words of praise and encouragement as he did so. He wanted to get it over with quickly for her, but he also wanted to get it absolutely perfect. Though the design was small and relatively simple, he did some of his best work that day. Sometimes when he finished a tattoo, he felt it was nothing more than a picture. But this one was a work of art. He added a few final touches and looked up at her. She didn’t seem to realize he was finished.

“All done,” Axel said, setting his gear aside and taking off his gloves with a snap.

She opened her eyes, blinking as though coming out of a trance, not unlike those times when he had fucked her out of her senses. “Already?” she asked.

Axel held back a grin and nodded. “You did so good,” he said, pushing the cart aside. He splayed his hand over her stomach, caressing her there before slipping his fingers down between her legs, dipping them into her arousal. A soft gasp escaped her lips, as beautiful and sweet as she was. As much as he wanted to fuck her, he didn’t want to irritate the area he had just tattooed. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t give her something lovely to think about whenever she remembered her first time. He stroked her with his long fingers, watching her body arc in response to her touch.

“Relax, baby,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

That became their ritual from then on. Axel would close the tattoo shop early on a weekday afternoon and paint the canvas of his lover while she lay naked in that chair, content to let him do whatever he wanted. The blossoms spread out along her thigh and arched over her hips, coming to an elegant frame over her most delicate parts. They bloomed over her ass and flooded with color, deep shades of purple and pink that stood in perfect contrast to her flesh. When she’d had enough for the day, he’d cover the area with a bandage and make love to her. Those times were sacred, and he never felt closer to her than he did after she let him tattoo her skin, because no matter how many times they did it, she was always afraid. But she trusted him enough to let him do it anyway, and he loved her for it.

@stevesharrlngtons @skrsgardspam @loomiz @ladadada-da @jj-lynn21 @flowers-in-your-hayr @emmyrosee @walkxthexmoon @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass @scuba-seamus @grandpa-sweaters @lihikainanea @gustafsnightangel

#axel #axel cluney #axel cluney fanfiction #tw: needles #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard fanfiction #I have never wanted a tattoo #until today #this boy can FUCK ME UP

103 notes · View notes

blondsauduun-reads · 4 years

Text

The Revolution That’s Been Singing In The Rain (JATP Reggie X Reader)

Pairing: 1995!Reggie x Reader

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: some swearing?

Plot: Ok so, it’s a pride parade/riot/demo, in 1995 (or so), and the boys go to support Alex, but surprise! There’s music there too! And Reggie likes the person playing the electric violin at the march. But like it starts to rain and they gotta stop with the instruments and get off the stage but they don’t stop singing. So anyway Reggie is in first row and the band was singing a cover of We Will Rock You and Reg of course knows the lyrics as does everyone. So they start singing and dancing very energetically and passionately in the rain. At the end the violin person gives Reggie their number

A/N: nonbinary reader (they/them pronouns) The link to the electric violin cover of we will rock you without the lyrics. Also. This is the first one-shot I’ve ever written and stuff so please be nice :) yes I accept constructive criticism too.

After practice, Alex had finally mustered up the strength to ask his best friends/bandmates,

“So, there’s this gay thing, on Saturday, and I wanted to ask if it you guys wanted to come with me?” The three other guys were listening closely to him, while fiddling around a bit with their instruments.

“It’s okay though, if you don’t.” Hadn’t even given them time to react, let alone answer. “If you don’t wanna come, I mean.”

A second of silence, the three of them surprised, exchanging looks, the blond one dreading the answer.

“No, yeah, dude.” Luke finally said, leaving his guitar on the stand. “We’ll totally go with you!”

“Yeah! We were just shocked that you’d wanna go.” Bobby said, because he and the two other guys had heard about it but weren’t going to bring it up if Alex wasn’t.

“We’re really proud of you, bro,” Reggie said, hugging his neck from behind. Kinda looked awkward. “I wish I was half as brave as you.”

With the whole AIDs thing, the President, his parents, and you know, the anxiety he lived with, Alex couldn’t really live his whole truth most of the time without fearing for his life, so yes, going to a Pride thing was no small feat for the boy.

“Yep, you can let me go now, Reg.” He chuckled, or coughed, because Reggie wasn’t exactly a spaghetti build person, and was hugging his neck rather tightly.

“So when’s the date bro?” Luke sat down on the couch, spreading himself out like pancake batter on a pan.

It was Saturday. Somehow, Reggie convinced them all to paint lil rainbows on either their cheeks or hands. They all looked adorable, sitting in the metro pressed together like anchovies, all with backpacks loaded with water, their respective lunches, and whatever the hell more fitted in the backpack.

Once they got to the station, they went out, following another group of people dressed for a parade, and in a bit more than five minutes, they were smack in the middle of the parade, chanting something in favor of LGBTQ+ rights.

“Do you hear that?” Reggie asked Alex, but like, screaming.

“Yeah, its about to storm, or something.” He said, looking at the sky, which was getting grayer by the minute.

“Not thunder, it’s like,” The black haired squinted in thought. “it’s like, music, I think. Queen.” He said. “Imma go, be right back!”

Reg disappeared in between the queers at the parade, following that sound.

“Reg, no! Shi…” Alex opened and closed his eyes in disapproval and desperation. “Luke! Bobby! We got a rogue bassist!” Bobby and Luke’s reactions to that were similar to Alex’s.

Meanwhile, Reggie had successfully found the source of the music. At a nearby park, was a stage, like those kinds of stages that can be built in like a day, and on top of it, a rock band.

Said like that, it probably doesn’t sound too special, but the thing was, they were playing a We Will Rock You cover, with an electric violin, or that’s what he could tell from a hundred feet distance from the actual stage, so, continuing squishing himself through the crowd, feeling some droplets of rain on his face, he got closer to the band, until he reached a six feet distance.

Shit, the violin was so incredibly pretty, like, it looked like some sort of futuristic weapon. The guy was loving it. The person playing it though, divine; the way they moved their arms and feet and carried themself. Also, yeah, probably the prettiest person Reg had seen to date.

The band, apart from having the violinist, who also was the backup singer, had a drummer, a bassist, and a guitarist, also the lead singer.

Anyway, the scene, everyone stomping their feet on the ground, singing the song with the band, remembering the now dead Freddie Mercury and how iconic he was, the energy of all those people, together in the fight for freedom and equality. The revolution. And the fucking rain.

Droplets were suddenly drops, which then started falling faster, and suddenly the band started panicking a bit, they couldn’t break up these vibes, these people.

So, the three with the string instruments put away the instruments, amps, cables and everything as fast as they could, and the drummer rushing his music cylinders into safety, the only ones carrying the music were the people, among which was Reggie, tearing out his vocal chords singing along the various hundreds of people singing too.

Once all the electric shtick on stage was cleared up, the whole band jumped down from the stage, joining the crowd, singing and stomping.

Buddy you’re an old man poor man

Pleadin’ with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day

The violinist, which had seen Reggie look starstruck at them and later on give his all to the music, joined him to sing (and stomp).

They were almost dancing, doing a duet, smiling like children on Christmas morning, being completely soaked through with the rain, and looking at each other with a feeling I can only describe as electricity (and if they looked at each other more electricly, they would have electrocuted themselves along the way.)

You got mud on your face You big disgrace Somebody better put you back in your place

The violinist shot him a wink, he tried to not get flustered, and in return winked back.

We will we will rock you

One last verse to the song, everyone still as excited as they were at the beginning. And yet, this one was sung with intention, with motive, as if they were shouting at the world that they’d rock it to achieve their goal.

We will we will rock you

And that was it. After a couple of seconds, the crowd calmed down and scattered.

“Hey, what are your pronouns?” The violinist asked.

Reggie remembered both the dictionary meaning of pronoun and the context in which it was asked (which Alex so kindly explained to them earlier), “He/Him, I’m Reggie.” He smiled.

“You’re in that band, right? Sunset Curve?” They asked.

“Tell your friends!” I’m pretty sure you can imagine how exactly he said this quote. “I’m the bassist.” Ah yes, and now the important question, “What about you, pronouns and name, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah, that.” They thought for one second before blurting it out, “They/Them, the name’s Y/n.” Y/n stretched out a hand, he seized it and made a mental note to ask Alex about those pronouns after, “So, what brings you here today?”

“Oh, well, my best friend’s gay, but,” He leaned closer to their ear, “I’m like, 90% sure I’m bi.”

“Damn boy, same!” They laughed.

“Anyway, I gotta go now, the instruments are only safe from the rain, not from people,” Y/n scratched the back of their neck. “But, in case I’m not only bi and yearning,” They whipped out a marker from their pocket and scribbled their number on Reggie’s forearm, “give me a call. Maybe we can try to rock out again together.” Wow, so full of confidence, must be the adrenaline that implied losing their instrument over getting a cute bassist as a date.

“Uh, yeah sure,” Y/n was already walking away, smiling at him.” I’ll def give you a call!” There was no answer to that. Only a distant holler.

“Yo! Reggie!” Luke.

“Coming!”

And he did walk over, fishing from his backpack a piece of dry paper and a pen to write down the number on something a bit more permanent. Anyway, he found the guys.

“Remember when I told you I might be bisexual?” He asked, copying the number.

“Yeah, when we were watching Indiana Jones, why?” Alex remembered. Indiana Jones is hot, that’s so not up for discussion.

“Yeah, well” He ripped the page with the number out and stuffed it in his pocket. “now I know, I’m bi.”

“Yeah man, no shit.” Luke teased him. Joke’s on you bitch you’re too.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp imagine #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp one shot #julie and the phantoms one shot #reggie jatp #jatp reggie #reggie julie and the phantoms #jatp x reader #reggie imagine #reggie jatp imagine #reggie jatp x reader #jatp reggie x reader #alex jatp #luke jatp #bobby jatp #sunset curve

93 notes · View notes

jj-bxby · 4 years

Text

Where Do We Go? |Chapter Three| JJ Maybank x Reader

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Chapter Summary - After the events of the party and the night before, Y/N has to continue on with her boat day with the Pogues, as well as some extra time with JJ.

gif cred @toesure

Word Count - 4.2k

A/N - thank y’all for being patient for the worlds slowest upload lol. I hope you like this chapter and lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Waking up to feel the warmth of JJ below me was not how I had expected my first morning on this island to go, if I’m being honest. But I do have to admit, it’s much nicer waking up next to a cute boy than it is waking up alone. As the events of the night replayed in my head, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit embarrassed. After he saw me be so brave on the beach while I told off Rafe, I felt small thinking of how I woke up sobbing in his arms. To be held together by a boy I hardly knew made me feel so pathetic. I hate feeling weak, and I hate showing it even more. But the way JJ held me against him, the way he spoke to me and calmed me as I was without my usual armor, that just made me feel so secure. And even though I was vulnerable when we kissed, I didn’t regret a second of it. Kissing him with my walls down meant so much more than if I were still guarding myself against the slightest potential of being hurt. And I think JJ knew that feeling.

The position we were in was intimate; half of my body was resting on him as his arms were wrapped around me, and my head nuzzled into his neck as his chin rested on top of my hair. I could hear his heartbeat in my ear and feel as his steady breath fanned over my hair. I lifted my head up a little to see JJ with his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he slept, his golden hair a mess. His usual smirk was gone, and his lashes looked long as they nearly brushed his cheek. Seriously, what is it with men having such gorgeous eyelashes? Seeing him in such a peaceful state was a stark contrast to the boy I met yesterday; the JJ who was strong and flirty and confident, if not a slight bit egocentric.

As I was in the middle of studying his face, JJ’s heavy eyelids slid open and he raised one of his hands to pass over his face as he grunted. “Morning, Y/N,” he said as he dropped his hand, grinning at me.

“Good morning,” I whispered back, shifting my gaze away from his face.

“Y/N?” I hummed in response and looked him in the eye again. “Do you want to talk about what happened last night?” JJ asked as his eyes searched mine.

I groaned and tucked my face back into his neck, feeling his chest shake as he laughed at my exasperation. He gently stroked my hair as he spoke. “That’s okay, how about we get breakfast first, yeah?”

I looked up at him and smiled as I nodded. “Okay, but I don’t really have any food here, yet.”

“M’kay, we’ll just head to The Wreck,” JJ said, and I raised my eyebrow at him. “The Wreck is the restaurant that Kiara’s family owns. She works there too, but I don’t think she’s got a shift today.”

“Well, it sounds pretty good to me. Especially the part about me not having to get groceries or clean up after cooking.” I sit up in the bed after peeling myself away from JJ. “Are you gonna invite the pogues?”

He looked at me and shook his head, looking down to play with the rings that adorned his fingers. “Nah, I think I’d like to just be with you this morning. Besides, we’ll see them later today when we go boating.”

I nodded silently before hopping off of the bed and walked over to my dresser, rifling through the drawers to find an outfit for the day. Even though half of my clothes were still in my suitcases, I was able to find a tank and jean shorts for the morning along with a swimsuit for the afternoon. I held my clothes for the day in my hands and turned around to see JJ peering at me from his position on the bed. “Don’t you need some clothes?” I asked him. “I mean, you slept in your stuff from last night’s party.”

JJ grinned at me, finding my concern for him oddly cute. “I’ve got some in my backpack. Y’know, the one I bring everywhere with me?”

“Ah, ready to sleepover at a girl’s house any time, huh?” I joked. I saw his smile falter for a second, and my brows knit together.

“I, uh, actually don’t do this often, even though it might seem like it.” JJ ran a hand through his hair tiredly. “I just don’t stay at my house more than I need to.I’m usually at John B’s, but I keep some clothes on me in case I stay at Kie or Pope’s place.”

I nodded somberly, knowing the feeling all too well. It was usually my car that I was in as darkness fell — not a home. I let JJ know I would be a minute as I ducked into the bathroom to change while he did the same in my room. Once we were both dressed and I’d washed my face to wake up, I dug through a suitcase to find my makeup for the day. Eventually, I ended up pulling out a compact mirror, brow gel, eyeliner, mascara, and concealer to get ready for the day as I sat on my bed to start my quick routine. Once I finished the liner flick on one of my eyes, I looked up from my mirror to see JJ staring at me in awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I honestly don’t know how you just did that so perfectly.”

I giggled at the boy’s confusion as I finished up my other eye, him clapping as I capped my liner. I shook my head and opened up the mascara, swiping it along my lashes so they stood out. I could see JJ frowning out of the corner of my eye as I continued on.

“Okay, that one looks like you’re touching your eye with the brush and I don’t like it so much,” JJ said with a grimace.

“Want me to put it on you?” I asked as I wiggled my eyebrows, smiling as he shook his head rapidly. He picked up the tiny sponge I had sitting next to me and started playing with it in his hands.

“What’s this thing for? It looks like a mix between a marshmallow and a kitchen sponge.”

“It’s for putting concealer under my eyes, it makes me look like I actually slept some. I need that after last night.” I looked up at him questioningly. “Haven’t you ever seen one of your girlfriends do their makeup or something?”

He shrugged his shoulders and tossed the sponge to me. “Haven’t had an actual girlfriend for a while, honestly. Even when I did, I never really sat with them to do things like this. I like it though. Even if makeup isn’t my thing, I like how you look when you do it. You make cute faces as you put the stuff on.”

“I do not make faces!” I said defensively, furrowing my brows.

“Yeah you do, especially with the mashra.”

“I’m sorry, the what? The mashara?” I said with a laugh.

“You know, the eyelash paint! The mashara thing,” JJ insisted as he picked up the pink tube.

“JJ, that’s mascara, not whatever the hell you called it.”

“Mashra, mascara, whatever. My point still stands, you make a cute face while you put it on and I like it.” I smiled and shook my head as he mimicked the face I had made earlier. “I just wanna watch you do this every day now.”

“Well, I’m actually pretty much done today, J. I just gotta finish doing my brows, then we can go grab breakfast. I think I can hear your stomach grumbling.”

“Did you just call me ‘J’?” I looked up from my mirror to see a grin plastered on the blonde boy’s face.

“Um, I guess I did, sorry about that.”

“No, I like it, actually. Not a lot of people call me that.”

“Well not a lot of people call me ‘Pretty Girl’, so I guess we’re even,” I said to him with a wink.

Once JJ stopped distracting me and let me finish my makeup, we were finally able to head out to The Wreck. The drive was filled with JJ’s music and muffled chatter, him telling me more about the island and his friends; about how Kie and Sarah were originally Kooks, but the Pogues took them in, how Sarah and John B were dating, that he wasn’t sure what was going on with Kiara and Pope just yet, and about how they’d all spend days on the water whenever they could. He was smiling as he spoke fondly of his friends, telling me all of the things they would do during the summer, and the pranks they would play on the Kooks. I loved the way his voice would change as the topics did, how his face would scrunch up when he laughed or spoke of something that confused him, and of course, his smirk as he told me of the time he and Pope sunk a Kook’s boat.

Eventually, we rolled to a stop once JJ had directed me to the parking lot, and we stepped out of the car, JJ coming around to take my hand to walk me into the restaurant. I hesitated for a second before grabbing hold of him, keeping pace with his long strides to enter the doors. He led us to the back of the restaurant, it was an open-air patio with the perfect view of the sea. We took our seats quickly, browsing over our menus as silence settled between us. The passing quiet was nice, not the kind that put you on edge — It was rather the opposite, actually. It was the kind of comfortable silence you’d find with someone you had known for years on end, the kind that was a conversation of its own. When I set down my menu, I looked up to see JJ staring back down at his own, his brows furrowed slightly and his lips moving slightly as his eyes drifted down the page. A grin spread across my face at the sight of the boy in front of me in such a relaxed state.

“Hey are you guys ready to order?” The waiter asked us, making JJ’s head snap up at the sound.

“Yeah, I’ll just do the scrambled eggs with a glass of orange juice, please.”

“And I’ll have the pancakes today, Mister Carrera.”

“Boy, you know you gotta pay for this today. Kiara isn’t here to talk me into giving you food today,” the man chuckled. JJ smiled and nodded, saying he’s got the check covered. Once he had walked away, I looked back to JJ.

“You might want to improve upon those staring skills if you don’t want me to see you next time,” he joked. My cheeks heated up at his words, even though I had nothing to be embarrassed for.

“Hey, who says I didn’t want you to see me. Besides, it’s hard not to stare sometimes.” I shrugged at him, stacking the small cups of creamer on top of each other, and JJ handed me a couple more. Once I finished my nearly-one-foot-tall tower, I put my hands up. “Ta-da!”

JJ just laughed at my childish excitement, now stacking the cups into a pyramid shape. “So…”

“So?”

He let out a heavy breath before meeting my eyes. “Look, Y/N, I’m not one who really pushes to talk about feelings and shit like that, but I just gotta ask if you’re okay after last night. I know you were freaked out, and I’m glad I was there for you, but do you know what happened?”

I could feel his eyes searching my face as I shuffled the sugar packets I held in my hands. I shrugged, not taking my eyes away from my hands. “I just have nightmares, is all. It happens.” I set down the packets to glance at JJ’s blue eyes. “Look, I know I’m a bit of a freakshow, okay? Waking up screaming and crying, and kissing you afterwards. Shit, I haven’t even known you for forty-eight hours yet, JJ. It’s not how I wanted my first impression to go, but I can’t really take it back. I’m okay, I just... have a lot of baggage to sort through.” I was focused on tapping my fingers together in an attempt to keep calm myself as I spoke, doing my best at keeping my voice steady. JJ nodded respectfully to me, placing his hand over my own to make me look at his eyes again.

“I know what you mean, Y/N. I don’t expect you to pour your life story out to me just yet, I don’t think I’m there yet either, honestly. But, I hope you know that I’m someone you can come to, and in time I hope you’ll realize that you have someone by your side now. I’ll be here to help you sort out anything you want, I promise.”

“You promise, huh?”

JJ hummed in response. “Of course. I also promise to take you on an actual date eventually, once you’re settled in.” I smiled at his words, blood rushing to my cheeks yet again. “If you want to, of course.”

I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head. “Of course I’d like to go on a date together, JJ. One that doesn’t involve any crying sounds nice.” JJ and I laughed as Mister Carrera brought out our breakfast, us parting our hands to make room for the plates. As I sipped on my orange juice, JJ stole a bite of my eggs.

“Look, you better give me a pancake for that. Stealing my food lands you on thin ice, buddy,” I said with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, one bite of egg is nowhere near equivalent to an entire pancake!” He argued. “I’ll give you a full pancake if you give me a couple more bites of egg”

“Hmph, fine. Just because your pancakes look yummy.” I slid some forkfuls of eggs onto JJ’s plate, him offering me a pancake for our trade.

“You know I only made that deal cause you’re so damn cute, right? I don’t make food trades often,” he smirked.

“Shush and eat your eggs.”

•

“So, Y/N, you ready for your first day out on the Pogue?” John B asked me as I watched Pope untie the boat from the dock. The sea was blue and salty, without much wind to create many waves. It was the perfect summer day, or as close to it as you could get.

“Yep, I am! I haven’t been out on the water in about a year, actually. I’ve missed it.”

“Did you live near the sea back on the Mainland?” Kie asked me while we sat on the floor of the boat. She was sectioning part of my hair out to braid as she spoke.

“No, not exactly. We lived near lakes, but not near the coast. It’s much different out here to the lakes, it feels a lot more serene to me,” I answered. “It feels a lot closer to the earth out here than I ever felt back home, really.”

John B started up the boat, the roar of the engine startling at first, then calm once it settled. JJ sat on one of the seats next to Pope, facing me and Kiara, and Sarah sitting with John B. “So has your gig at that dance studio started up yet, then?” He asked me.

“Not quite yet, they’re giving me about a week to settle in before I start teaching, actually. Which should be a good thing, ‘cause I have plenty of crap I need to unpack yet.” I groaned at the thought of all of the boxes piled in my new home, just waiting to be put away. “Shit, I’m gonna have to put together shelves too.”

“You want some help with that?” Pope asked me, looking around at the other pogues.

“No, you guys don’t have to help me with this stuff, it’ll just take a few days and then I’ll be done!”

JJ shook his head at me. “Why do it on your own in a few days, when you could get it all finished in one day with our help?”

Sarah clapped her hands together excitedly. “So it's settled! We’ll help you set up your house,” she proclaimed.

“Perfect! We’ll get it done in no time, Y/N,” JB grinned. I looked to JJ with glaring eyes, him shooting me a wink while he sipped on a Coke.

Kie finished up my braid as I tried to protest the help, the sound of the motor drowning me out. JJ gestured for me to take one of the seats on the bench behind me, Kie stepping up to sit alongside me. I stared off the side of the boat, mesmerised by the water’s movement. The sea water rippled around the boat as it was maneuvered from out of the dock with ease, the Pogue speeding up quickly, and cutting through the water to leave waves in its wake. I jumped slightly when we hit a wave, the boat jutting upwards suddenly and seawater misting over us all. I laughed as the water hit my face, enjoying the cool droplets against my skin. I rested back in my seat as we continued to glide through the water, John B eventually guiding the boat to a stop. JJ hopped out of his seat to toss the anchor while JB cut the engine, and Kie walked over to open up the cooler, passing out drinks to everyone. It was a mixture of beers and sodas between us all, JJ and I being the ones to opt for the sweet, fizzy drinks for the time being.

JJ took the now vacant seat beside me and pulled out a vape from his pocket to take a hit from, and I watched as the vapor swirled out of his mouth and into the air. “Have you ever been surfing, Y/N?” JJ asked once he finished his breath.

I shook my head, “Nope. I used to go canoeing and kayaking, though it was a while back. I guess those aren’t all that similar though. Why?”

Pope smiled at me. “Because the best surfer in the Outer Banks is sitting right next to you, of course.”

I swung my head to look at JJ, tilting my head. “Oh really now?”

He smirked at me, nodding. “Damn right, I am.”

“Great, Pope, you boosted his ego again,” John B said,

“Hey, I can’t help being great, you know.”

“Oh? And did you tell Y/N how you like to surf hurricanes too?” Sarah asked him.

“We all do that, though!” JJ continued on, “They make great waves, you just gotta be careful is all.” He looked to see me staring at him with wide eyes. “What? It's just like storm chasing.”

“Okay, but people who go storm chasing actually do it to, like, record data and shit like that,” I pointed out. JJ just shrugged at me.

“I was gonna offer to show you how to surf, but if you just wanna be sassy you could do that instead.”

I frowned at him. “Damn, so surfing and sassiness are mutually exclusive? I dunno if I can do it, then.”

“Hm, I guess I can excuse it for the first lesson,” he laughed. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah. You keep saying that, JJ, but I think you’ve just got a thing for me,” I said, flipping my hair dramatically. Kie nodded at me, both of us bursting out into laughter while JJ sighed, exasperated.

“Well once we get your house put together, maybe we can go surfing, ‘kay?” I nodded smiling wildly.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m hot as fuck,” Sarah said before pulling off her shorts and top. “I’m ready to get in the water.” The rest of us followed suit, sliding out of our over clothes, and getting splashed when John B jumped off into the water. I saw JJ’s toned body out of the corner of my eye as I slid off my shirt hesitantly, revealing my bikini top underneath. I saw that nearly everyone had jumped into the water as I tossed my shirt onto the pile of clothes in the corner of the boat before removing my shorts to throw aside as well.

Once I stood back up, I felt strong arms sweep under my knees and lock behind my back to pick me up from behind. I twisted to look behind me, seeing JJ’s smirk emblazoned across his face and a wild look in his blue eyes. “You had better not throw me, JJ,” I said, uneasy.

“Hold on tight, Pretty Girl,” JJ whispered in my ear, taking a few running steps to jump off the boat with me in his arms. Both of us sank under the water once we were in, having to let go of each other to swim back up to the surface. As I resurfaced, I could hear the other Pogues cheering and laughing at JJ’s antics, while he shook out his hair and swam a couple of feet over to me.

“You all good?” He asked, smiling. I nodded, telling him I was okay, and he grabbed my hand under the water, wading us over to the rest of the group.

“You’re officially initiated!” John B shouted. “One of us! One of us!” The Pogues joined in on the chant, all of us laughing as the repetitions died out. I looked around at my new friends, grinning as I realized I had the start of a new family around me.

“Alright, Y/N, since you’re a pogue now, I think we all want to get to know you a bit better, yeah?” Pope asked, looking around at everyone, stopping back at me.

“Hey, hit me with the questions.”

Sarah raised her hand jokingly, “Me first! What’s one thing you couldn’t go without? Aside from a phone, of course.”

“Ooh, I think that would probably be this little rock I keep in my bag, pretty sure it's amethyst. My mom gave it to me when I was little.”

“Oh my god, you like crystals?” Kiara squealed. “I love crystals. Oh my god, we need to keep her, guys.” I laughed at Kie’s excitement as she continued on with a new question. “What’s something that makes you angry?”

“Okay so this sounds weird, but I hate the sound of people chewing. Like, it just enrages me, and I don’t know why. Aside from that, not a whole lot really makes me angry. So long as someone isn't a dick, I’m pretty okay with most things.”

Pope went next. “What would you say is your favorite book?”

I groaned, “Do I really have to pick only one? How about a top three?”

“You’re just winning more and more points with me today, Y/N,” Pope laughed. “Sure, top three.”

I thought about it for a second before coming to a final decision, “Alright, I think it has to be the Percy Jackson books, the originals, not the second series, Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult, and Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.”

“Damn, very good choices,” he said with a nod.

“You’re both nerds,” JJ snorted. “Alright, what’s your favorite food, Pretty Girl?”

“Okay, are we talking best food of all time? Favorite breakfast food? Favorite dessert? C’mon, you gotta give me some guidelines here.”

He grinned at me, “Aye, there we go! Best meal and best dessert.”

“My favorite meal has to be these barbecued meatballs that my aunt used to make, and for a dessert I’d say double chocolate cake. Screw vanilla.” JJ agreed, laughing as I went on about my hate for vanilla cake. “Look, you can make vanilla into chocolate, you can’t make chocolate into vanilla. Therefore, chocolate cakes and chocolate frosting are superior!”

I looked to John B who volunteered, “Alright, guess I’m last up! If you had a warning label on you, what do you think it would say?”

“Well the one I told JJ last night was that I’m a walking box of daddy issues, does that count?” My friends laughed, JJ’s eyes catching mine as I giggled and smiling at me.

“I guess it does!” John B cackled. “Well, I think we got a good idea of you now, Y/N. Welcome to the Pogue life.”

After a while of getting-to-know-you chatter between the group. We decided to head back onto the boat for some lunch. Once we had all climbed the ladder up to the boat, I took the empty seat next to JJ, wrapping myself in a towel as Kiara pulled out sandwiches for all of us.

“Freshly made sandwiches, for all y’all. Courtesy of The Wreck,” she said teasingly. She handed JJ and I both sub sandwiches and a bowl filled with grapes to share. We had small conversations between our bites of food, laughing and sipping drinks as we soaked up the sun. It really was the perfect day to be out on the water, and being out with good company made it even better for us all.

tags & mootuals ~ @hmspxgue @drewswannabegirl @jiaraendgame @midnightmagicmusingsmain @ponyboys-sunsets @xlittlemissydjx @danicarosaline @pink-meringues @jjsbxtch @jjsmaybcnk @maybanksbaby @starksweasleymain @softstarkey @shawnssongs @starlightstarkey @ptersparkers @futuretaxcheat @aesthetic-lyss @anonymous0writer @outrbanks @obx-direction-sos @joshy-obx @midnightmagicmusings

132 notes · View notes

writesandfights · 4 years

Note

Can you do one where y/n is afraid to smoke but she always puts her hand in his smoke bc she thinks it’s cool. Jj wants to teach her and use it as a way to flirt but she always denies. Later he catches her playing with his zippo lighter and calls her a klypto too. He teaches her to smoke n it’s rly cute !!! Ok sorry I’ll stoppp!! I love ur blog tho🤩🤩

PROMPT # : PERSONAL REQUEST

WORD COUNT: 1660

WARNINGS: SMOKING

PAIRING: JJ X READER

LATIBULE

JJ sat at the edge of the deck when he was smoking, this location seemed to be the most comforting place for him in all reality, he loved the way this felt, his feet dancing through the cold water and his eyes tracing over the setting sun. You walked down the dock in the click of your boots and he turned to see you with a small smirk spreading over his lips, he was happy to see you were home after having gone to the mainland for some time. You were home. That's all that mattered to him, he licked his lips and moved over so you could sit down next to him.

“Hey there beautiful, it's good to see you're home again, I have missed you, let me say, trying to text you without a phone was literally one of the most impossible things - BUT uh.. Would you like to smoke?” he had handed it out to you, hoping you would take the blunt from his hand but you shook your head weakly and only watched him carefully. “ no no.. you know I don’t like to smoke but uh.. I must say I'm flattered you tried to talk to me through your imaginary phone..”

He took a deep breath, watching as the smoke reached his lungs and he took a second to blow out the fog that remained. You put your hand up and ran your fingers through the swirls of light, it was beautiful, you didn;t like smoking but you must admit, when you saw those puffs of smoke you couldn;t help but want to touch it. They were like those old paintings you would see in the chinese fairy tales, small, then they would spread so much bigger than itself, fading away to nothing.

A smile spread over your face when you finally put your hand down and he smirked again, he loved when you did that, you acted like the little things were so damn perfect and you appreciated fire along with the danger that came with it. “ you know.. You seem to be so appreciatitaive of the smoke that comes off of this blunt, I think one day you should just say fuck it and smoke, but anyways, I gotta make sure John B doesnt go to get himself killed by some crazy old woman who loves axes, Ill catch you later beautiful.”

The young man had stood up and kissed your cheek before he left, you turned a deep red and shook your head jokingly, you turned and waved to him. “ wow! You have a great time! Make sure you don’t die in that house or whatever in the hell the two of you are gonna do!!” He rolled his eyes and waved to him while laughing under his breath, your eyes traced down to the dock to see he had left behind his golden zippo lighter, it was beautiful, you had to admit to that, but you knew he would look for it if you didn't tell him you had it.

You shot a message to the younger man, aka John B, telling him that you had the lighter and that JJ could come over to your house and pick it up, he knew better than to come through the front door, your parents were way to strict after all, they were never going to allow you to end up with someone like him but goodness that didn't stop you from falling harder and harder for him. You watched as The Nun was on the screen, probably not the greatest idea to watch a horror movie when you're expecting guests but you did it anyway. The lighter was no bigger than your thumb when you ran your fingers through the small flame and smiled overly proud that you didn’t get burnt. It actually felt good, it felt like heaven to touch the fire.

JJ watched from the window when he saw you playing with what you had in your hand, his lighter, You ran your finger through the flame and stopped when it would hurt, it was like you were enchanted by the flame, the same way he was. It danced through the darkness of your room but he still saw that familiar look in your eyes, the wonder and the amazement, he loved that look, adored it.

He pushed the small window open, letting a little creak noise echo through your room, when you heard it, you instantly jumped into the air and shook your head. Your heart was racing when you turned and held onto the pillow as a weapon, JJ climbed into the room and flicked the lamp on when he got greeted by the pillow right to the face, “ hey hey you need to calm down there, princess.”

When you heard his voice you calmed down but shook your head slowly, you licked your lips and turned away in complete embarrassment, he was laughing and sat down on your bed. He picked up his lighter and opened it, letting the fire dance over the rough palm of his hand, he was still so handsome, in this light or even in the light of day, but you were drawn to the fire. “ you know i saw the way you had been looking at that fire, maybe you're a lot like me, a klepto, right? Do you know what that means beautiful?”

You bit the inside of your lip when you nodded and didn’t want to admit that the good girl was drawn to the feeling of freedom and the heat that fire seemed to give off, that was always gonna be enough for you. JJ stood up and grabbed your hand when he pulled you closer and started to take you towards the window, “ come on.. I know you're scared of smoking but youre gonna be okay when you're with me, I promise you that, just take my hand and trust me..”

“ of course I trust you.. But what happens if we get caught, what happens then?” He chuckled and moved your hair from your face when he knew you were truly worried about something like that, “ then we ran away from the cops.. If we are lucky we will get caught in a tight alleyway and you'll be pressed right into my chest..”

Of course that idea sent goosebumps up your spine but you laughed regardless, his eyes so soft when he had gotten you to agree. You stood up and allowed him to pull you out of the window, he helped you down and held onto your waist, leaning into your chest and turned a deep red because of it. He might have been smooth but when it came down to you, he wasn't that smooth person anymore, he lost all control of that and maybe you knew that, but maybe you didn't.

He had led you back to that dock where he sat down and held onto a small blunt, lighting it between his thumb and pointer finger, he could see you were nervous but he would have comforted you through all of it. “ I know you're scared, but look at me, you're gonna be by my side the whole time and- I know you won't be alone, i'm right here..” He winked and you nodded when you moved closer to his body, he placed the end between his lips when he took a deep breathe and you watched as he let it reach his lungs again, he then exhaled and you reached up to grab the smoke but he took your hand, “ i wanna hold your hand..”

A smile came onto your lips when you let your eyes trace down to his lips and he was doing the same, he knew you were staring and goodness how he was intrigued by you. He held out the little joint and nodded weakly, “ okay baby.. Sorry uh, beautiful, you use your thumb and your pointer finger, pressing it between your lips and taking a deep breath, when you do, suck it all the way in until you feel the smoke hitting your lungs, okay?”

You nodded in agreement and did as told when you pressed the drug between your lips and took a deep breath, allowing it to reach your lungs and soon you were coughing much louder than before, trying to control the burning but you couldn't. JJ laughed with a small smirk and held onto the blunt when you were done with it. He watched you so carefully, you're soft pink lips rising to meet the joint he rolled for this moment, the goosebumps that rose atop your skin when he ran his fingers over yours, he was so enamored and goodness how he just wanted to tell you how he felt in that moment.

“ okay okay, there's my girl, you hit that like you were snoop dogg, look at you go..” he chuckled and soon took another hit himself but this one was different, he moved closer nad pressed his lips into yours, he exhaled into your mouth but kissed you at the same time. It was the most euphoric feeling you have ever had, the running of happiness through your veins, how your eyes closed when you kissed him in return, goodness how you have been wanting to do that. You have always wanted to kiss him and now you have the chance to do so, you pulled back a moment later and leaned your forehead against his, allowing him to breathe when you blew the leftover smoke into his face. He was brave when he saw the red lines coming over your eyes, you were stoned out of your mind and he would take care of your giggly self, but the first thing he wanted to do was ask so softly, “ go out on a date with me.. Tomorrow..”

A/N - awe thank you so much! I am happy you love my account . It’s a mess right now but thank you for the compliment. I hope you enjoy it, i also left it open for a part two ;)

#outerbanks jj #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj x y/n #jj x reader #obx jj #jj obx #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks imagine #obx imagine #obx x reader

146 notes · View notes

its-kili · 3 years

Text

You’re Brave (Part 2/2) - Levi x Reader

Link to Part One

Synopsis: You’ve been losing sleep because you’ve been hearing noises in your bedroom at night and you think you’re being haunted. Levi makes plans to help put your mind at rest and later helps to investigate the source of the noises in your bedroom.

Warnings: No smut but a brief mention of sex. Just fluff.

The abandoned house was eerily quiet despite its lack of windowpanes (and even a roof in some parts of the building) exposing it to the whistling wind and distant murmur of people heading home for the night in Trost. A bitter breeze crept through the building, slowly shifting between bodies as if taking its time to scrutinise the people who dare obstruct its path. Some of the brick walls had crumbled into a pile of debris on the floor while others were barely intact, seemingly held together by the graffiti sprayed onto the stone. The house felt as if it were one harsh gust of wind away from disintegrating into the ground, its history buried with it like an avalanche of memories provoked by the quaking of the present.

We were stood in a decrepit foyer as our tour guide explained its past and the people that used to live there, along with stories of ghost sightings in this room. A decaying painting was leaning against the wall – a portrait of someone once noble but now their legacy is far less grand. Despite its face worn away and hardly visible, its unnerving stare sent a chill up my spine. I shuffled towards Levi and when he noticed my apprehension he positioned himself between the painting and me so I was no longer in its line of sight. I’m sure he moved his body nearer to mine, but it was most likely something he was unaware of as opposed to an active effort to stand even closer to me. Nevertheless, the feeling of his bicep and part of his chest pressed against my back, coupled with his slow and soft breath brushing past my ear, was titillating.

“Excuse me, sir.” Levi spoke when our tour guide asked if we had any questions. I could feel his deep voice resonating through my body as it vibrated through his chest, causing my knees to tremble slightly and butterflies to frantically flutter in my stomach as if they had just been released from a killing jar. “What are the signs that a building is haunted?” I shivered as his breathing near my ear resumed and Levi, assuming that I was cold, adjusted my jacket to ensure that my skin was not exposed to the cool air. Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Ackerman?

“Well, you’ve got ya classic signs: items fallin’ off shelves, hearin’ strange noises, doors openin’ or closin’, candles goin’ out. Ya might also notice some cold spots around yer house. Those are the most common signs, but in rare cases ya might actually see some shadows or even an apparition.” The tour guide paced around the room and counted off his fingers with confidence as he answered Levi’s question.

“At the risk of sounding like a sceptic, couldn’t those things be explained by, I don’t know. . . the wind?” He protested and I didn’t need to look at Levi to know that his expression was unimpressed. I could picture his face in my mind: eyebrows slightly furrowed with apathetic eyes and his mouth in a straight line across his face.

“I s’pose it depends on the context of the situation – it might be a bit silly to attribute strange happenin’s in yer house to the wind when, say, there are no windows open. Anyway, let’s move on to the next room.” The guide panicked as he attempted to persuade us against Levi’s apparent ignorance.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not convinced.” Levi whispered into my ear and I momentarily froze on the spot, my knees almost giving out and falling to the floor like a house of cards collapsing at the sound of his voice so close to my skin.

I agreed with him though; those things that our tour guide said could be attributed to the wind, so I didn’t think he could say anything that would convince me that this building was haunted, especially because the windows were all smashed and I could feel the wind in every room. Any activity that was claimed to be supernatural in this house could have, in fact, been caused by the wind. It did put my mind at ease somewhat when I realised that my wardrobe activity was unlike any of the ‘classic signs’ of a haunting that our guide mentioned, so it was unlikely to be due to ghosts. I still had no explanation for that, though, and that irked me more than anything.

The next room we visited was a large kitchen with a pantry at the far end of the room, darkness engulfing the doorway. After the tour guide had given his speech about the room, he invited us to look around and I took it as an opportunity to ask him a question of my own.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me? I’ve been having an issue in my bedroom for the last couple of nights and I was thinking it might be haunted? You see, I’ve been hearing noises from my wardrobe as if it were shaking violently and last night a painting even fell off my wall.” I sheepishly explained my predicament to him, part of me was hoping he would be able to give me an explanation so I at least had an answer – ghosts or not – while the other part was wishing he was clueless so I would be certain that this man’s arguments lacked any credibility.

“Ah, yes, definitely sounds like you’ve got a ghost. I don’t s’pose you’ve told ya friend over there? Let me guess, he said it was caused by an earthquake?” He chuckled to himself as he nodded his head in Levi’s direction. An earthquake would have been a reasonable explanation to be honest, but it’s unlikely that two earthquakes would hit only my bedroom at the same time in two consecutive nights.

“Well, he didn’t say anything actually.” That’s not entirely true, he said ‘spooky’, but the tour guide didn’t need to know that.

“That’s the thing with sceptics – they’ve always got some sort of ‘scientific explanation’ for everythin’, but as soon as it’s somethin’ that doesn’t fit with their beliefs they’ve got nothin’ to say.” I didn’t appreciate the hostility in his tone as he spoke about Levi and my shoulders tensed up as I felt defensive. I had already made my mind up that I wasn’t keen on this man, so out of stubbornness I decided not to take anything else he said too seriously.

“So how can I get rid of the ghost?” I asked him firmly just to silence any further criticism he could make of Levi.

“First you should burn some sage to cleanse ya room. Then you’ve gotta be firm and let ‘em know they’re not welcome an’ if that doesn’t work, hold a séance.” His tone was unconvincing and he sounded like he was just making all of this up as he spoke. Even if what he was saying was true, I doubt that telling the ghosts they are unwelcome in my room would work since I had already tried to politely reason with them last night and failed.

Another person who was taking the tour with us came to the guide to ask him some questions of their own, so I took my leave and looked for Levi. He was walking over to the pantry on his own and I mentally commended his bravery – I would not go inside a dark hole on my own in an abandoned building in the middle of the night, but he was humanity’s strongest soldier, of course he's brave. This was the perfect opportunity to test his courage, I thought, so I silently followed him and when he was alone in the pantry, I jumped through the doorway and playfully nudged his shoulder.

“Boo!” I shouted, but my attempt to scare him was in vain. Levi stood in front of me, almost invisible in the dark, with the same apathetic expression on his face. “How?!” I moaned, amazed that he was immune to my childish prank.

“I’m not scared of anything.” His tone was smug as he took a step closer to me, his face just a little bit more visible now because it was mere inches away from mine. There was a smirk on his lips – bigger than the one he wore in the mess hall that same morning – and I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing. Did I make him smile? Even in the absence of light, with what little my eyes could see, I thought that he was beautiful and I wanted to kiss him right then and there. But what would happen if I did? Would it come as a surprise to him? Would he push me away? Would he pull me in?

I watched his lips, drunk on the rare sight of his smile, before two tourists made their presence known behind us as they chatted with each other about the unsettling aura of the house. Levi’s smirk faded and I was sober again with my hopes diminished. I could not kiss the captain for his ship had sailed.

As we left the pantry, I felt a pair of hands grab both of my shoulders and a disembodied voice shout a startled ‘ah!’ behind me. I flinched and let out a loud squeal in response, attracting the attention of everyone in the room.

“I’m sorry, I thought that would be funny.” Levi confessed and I relaxed my shoulders, internally smiling about him showing his playful side and getting revenge on me for trying to scare him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a little bit scared.” I chuckled and ran my hand through my hair as we walked towards the next room in the house.

“I guess you’ll just have to stay close to me if you’re that fearful.” Say less, Levi. I timidly wrapped my hand around his bicep and linked my arm with his as we walked. He looked down at me before he spoke again, “Your bedroom isn’t haunted, by the way. And setting fire to herbs won’t do anything other than make your room smell funny.” It was an attempt to reassure me that I had nothing to be scared of, and while it put my mind at ease, I wasn’t prepared to let go of his arm just yet. He didn’t move away from me, though, and I thought that it was probably because he felt guilty for scaring me and there was nothing more to it.

We returned to the barracks in the early hours of the morning. Admittedly, I paid more attention to Levi than the tour itself, especially after our guide had been so critical of my companion, I didn’t particularly want to listen to anything else he had to say. Besides, the feeling of Levi’s muscular arm linked with mine was overwhelming and I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, even if I wanted to. It’s safe to say that my thoughts were completely distracted from the supernatural, at least for the time being.

“Will you be alright?” Levi asked me after he walked me back to my bedroom.

“I think so. I wasn’t particularly convinced by what the tour guide was saying, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for what has been happening in my room. If any ghosts want to start shit tonight I’ll knock ‘em out.” I joked as I put my fists up and pretended to spar with the air. “Anyway, if the noises continue and they scare me, I’m just going to have to tell my brain to get over it because I need to confront my fears. If it’s going to become a regular thing, I can’t keep losing sleep over it.”

“You’re brave.” Levi patted the top of my head and I smiled at him in return. “If you do get scared and you want some company, just come and find me. Goodnight.” He turned around and walked down the hallway after I said goodnight to him in return, and when I entered my room and closed the door behind me, I fought the urge to scream and jump up and down in excitement. Just come and find me – I’m sure he wouldn’t just offer this to anybody, right? Somewhere in the back of my mind I was praying for another scare tonight just so I had an excuse to visit Levi. I shook the thoughts away, realising that what I told Levi was true: I need to confront my fears.

It wasn’t long after I hopped into bed that I heard the shaking noise sounding from my wardrobe again. I remembered Levi telling me that I’m brave before he left, and after hearing those words in my mind I decided to keep my eyes closed and ignore the noise. I pictured Levi in my head and thought about his chest pressed against my shoulder and his whispers in my ear to override the fear of the mysterious wardrobe noise.

This tactic didn’t work for long, however, because the familiar sound of my painting falling off the wall and crashing onto the ground filled my room. And in that moment all my thoughts ceased. My breath caught in my throat and my whole body tensed up as my heartbeat pounded in my chest and chills ran through me. No, I thought, Levi thinks I’m brave.

My hand tentatively grasped onto the covers and hesitantly pulled them away as I sat on the edge of my bed, my heart thumping against my ribcage. I took a few steps towards the wall to hang my painting back up, but before I could I heard a door creaking in the hallway outside my room. I’m brave, I repeated in my head as I tiptoed towards my door. After turning the doorknob and peeking through the gap I had created, I witnessed the silhouette of a woman walking down the hall in the darkness. Instinctively and out of fear, I slammed the door shut and pressed my back to it.

I felt pathetic as my breath was shaky and a tear escaped my eye; after all my time as a captain in the Survey Corps, after risking my life to save my comrades, this was the thing to almost break me. I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t an apparition, it was probably just someone going to the bathroom or getting a glass of water. But I wasn’t the best at persuading myself to think reasonable thoughts, I needed someone more convincing.

I’m brave, I said to myself, my voice shaky as I wiped away the few tears that ran down my cheek, and I opened my bedroom door and ran in search of Levi. I navigated the hallways, trying to stay quiet out of courtesy for everyone else who was sleeping, and I finally found myself outside Levi’s bedroom. Before I knocked on his door I made sure to compose myself; I couldn’t let him see me looking like a trembling mess. Levi opened the door almost instantly after I knocked three times, calmly and softly.

“Hello. You look like you’ve seen a- no, never mind, I said that one last night. Kuso. Are you alright?” Seeing the concern on his face was enough to distract me from my worries, at least for a brief moment.

“Funny you should say that, actually,” I chuckled nervously but it wasn’t enough to hide my fear, “the noise, i-it happened a-again and my painting fell off the wall again. Then, I heard a door opening and I looked into the hallway and saw a woman.” As I stood in his doorway, I waited for Levi to tell me that I was being ridiculous and I had nothing to be scared about. I waited for him to give me a logical explanation for what I just witnessed, but he didn’t say anything of the sort.

“We need to go and check this out.” He stepped out of his bedroom and closed the door behind him, then he motioned for me to lead the way and he walked down the hallway with me. “So let me get this straight: you heard someone opening a door and then you saw a woman and you immediately assumed. . . ghost?” His tone was a little condescending, but I didn’t mind it because I needed him to make me realise my thoughts were silly and clouded with fear.

“I realise it sounds quite stupid now that I think about it, but at the time I was scared so. . . I came straight to you.” I was embarrassed that I admitted to Levi that he was the first person I ran to in a time of crisis, but he didn’t mention it and instead linked his arm with mine as we walked. I was surprised by his gesture, but I realised that he probably did it to offer me some comfort after I did it to him when I was scared in the abandoned house.

“There’s no ghost.” He assured just before we arrived at my bedroom. I opened the door and I lit some candles after we stepped inside so that we weren’t in complete darkness and I could hang my painting back up on my wall.

The shaking noise from my wardrobe had stopped so we stood in silence for a while waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t long before the creaking of a door was heard in the hallway and my head quickly turned to face Levi. I ran towards the door and pulled him with me as I slowly turned the doorknob and poked my head out of the room. Levi’s body pressed against my back as he stuck his head through the gap in my door, the feeling reminiscent of when we were stood in the foyer of the abandoned building, but this time it was more than just his arm and a bit of his chest against my back. This time I could feel almost all of his chest and the hard abs on his torso, and my knees felt weak again as my breath hitched. Despite Levi’s cold exterior, his body was warm and inviting, and I resisted the temptation to lean back into his chest.

“There’s nobody there.” He whispered into my ear and again I felt myself shivering upon feeling his words on my skin. We stayed in the same position for quite some time before Levi moved away, the cool air on my back replacing his presence.

I closed the door and walked across my room towards my bed, but before I could get there the noise from my wardrobe resumed. My wide, anxious eyes met Levi’s as I pointed towards the furniture. He grinned slightly and shook his head, then proceeded to gently place his hand around my wrist and pull me inside the wardrobe. I didn’t have many clothes, so it wasn’t too much of a struggle to fit two adults inside, but our bodies were very close with our legs almost entangled.

“Eren’s bedroom is the one next to yours, right?” He whispered. I was unsure of why he was asking me this, but it made me realise that I could have asked Eren if he had been hearing strange noises in the middle of the night too.

“Y-yes.” I stuttered. The lack of distance between us caused my heart to race and my breathing was less controlled.

I think Levi mistook this for fear because he gently put his hand on my shoulder and said, “press your head against the wardrobe and listen carefully.” I did as he instructed and pressed my ear against the wood, unsure of what I was supposed to be listening to. And then I heard it. Through the connecting wall between Eren’s bedroom and mine, I heard the sound of a woman moaning Eren’s name and what I assumed to be his bed banging against the wall. I pulled my head away in disgust and due to the complete darkness in my wardrobe, I misjudged the distance between myself and the wood and ended up banging my head quite hard. Ow!

“Be careful, are you alright?” Levi asked as he reached his hand out to rub my head.

“Was that Eren and Mi-”

“Mikasa, yeah. The ghost that has been terrorising you these past few nights has actually been Eren and Mikasa going at it pretty hard. I heard the noise when I stayed here last night and this is what I heard when I investigated.” There was a brief pause as I processed the information that Levi was telling me, and then the silence in the air was broken when both of us burst into laughter. After hearing Levi’s laugh for the first time I noticed that it was beautiful and I wished that it would never end, but we both calmed down when I realised that he was still stroking my head. I softly placed my hand on top of his and lowered it so it was by my side before entwining my fingers between his. Levi took his free hand and cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking along my cheekbone.

“This reminds me – there was something I wanted to do back in that pantry.” He declared, his voice low and sensuous. He moved his face closer to mine so that our noses were touching and I could feel his soft breath against my skin. My hand squeezed his in anticipation as his hair brushed against my cheek and the centimetres between our lips felt like lightyears spanning over distant galaxies. He was a star shining brightly in the night sky that I would extend my hand out to touch before realising that it is too far out of my reach. But I would build a rocket and traverse the cosmos with my bare hands just to feel your lips against mine.

“May I kiss you?” Levi breathed and I lifted my hand and wrapped it around the back of his neck, my face yearning for his under the touch of his thumb.

“Yes.” I whispered. And as I closed my eyes his nose brushed against mine before I felt his soft lips press firmly onto my own. All of the anticipation that had built up suddenly exploded in a supernova of passion and I was being dragged into a black hole of desire, unable to escape the gravity of his taste that was pulling me into him.

Levi untangled his fingers from mine and wrapped his arm around my back to pull me closer to him, his other hand still caressing my cheek. I took my free hand and ran it through his hair before resting it on the back of his head. We pulled our faces away for a short moment as we regained our breath, but it wasn’t long until our lips were reunited, spiralling into an abyss of ardour where time ceased to exist.

I’m unsure of the amount of time that had passed while we were in my wardrobe – perhaps it was hours, maybe it was mere minutes – but we were interrupted by a loud bang coming from the opposite side of my wall.

“Your ghost is back.” Levi playfully nudged my arm as he guided me out of my wardrobe and back into the dim light of my bedroom.

“Oh, shush.” I turned away from him and pretended to sulk with my arms folded across my chest. He responded by gently pulling on my elbow so I faced him again, then he planted a delicate kiss on my forehead and my fake frown turned into a large, open-mouthed smile.

“You’re really cute when you’re scared, by the way.” Levi confessed before pulling me in for another kiss.

“Stop,” I whined, “I lost so much sleep over that whole ghost ordeal!”

“Well, you can rest easy now. Come on.” Levi led me to my bed and tucked me in, sitting himself on the edge while he held my hand.

“Please stay, I’m still terrified.” I pouted and widened my eyes in an attempt to convince him that I was still scared.

“I know that’s a lie, but fine.” Levi smirked as I lifted the blanket up and motioned for him to get under it. When he was comfortable he lifted his arm and I rested my head on his chest while I wrapped my arm around his waist.

Levi pressed his lips against my head one last time before I closed my eyes, drifting off into a dream incomparable to the one I was already living in.

13 notes · View notes

miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

Brave - Sora & Child!Reader

I have been mulling this over and over and OVER for like a week now. I’m not sure I can call it fluffy, but I’d like to think it’s a little sweet. As for the “daughter” part, I skimmed it over after writing and it’s not exactly a gender-specific fic, so I apologize for that.

Still, I hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for your request. @kalosqueen27

~~~~~

Eyes snap open. Without thinking about it, I slide out of bed and scurry towards the open door.

It’s the middle of the night and the house is full of frightening darkness. I tiptoe because I don’t know what waits in the shadows, but I’m scared and when I’m scared, only two people can make me feel better.

The next door creaks as I push it open and hurry inside. I scramble onto the bed and force myself between the still-sleeping grown-ups. Blankets are pulled up over my head while I press as close to Dad as possible. This is where I’m safe; no one is stronger than my dad. Still, even if he is the strongest, the darkness has made the fear that started with nightmares worse.

I shouldn’t be out of bed and I don’t want to be a crybaby, so I try hard to keep from crying out loud. Dad hums and moves. Jamming a fist against my mouth, I try harder not to make a sound.

Then a hiccup comes out.

“Mm? What’s wrong?” he asks sleepily.

His arms wrap around me. Mom’s still asleep; I’m trying my best to hold it in but it’s getting harder to control. Pulling me off the bed, my dad leaves the room with me. Sniffles are quiet against his shoulder as he takes me into the living room. Even as he sits on the couch, I cling to him.

“What’s wrong, lion cub? Was it a nightmare?” he asks again. I nod into his shirt and he runs a gentle hand over my back. “It’s okay. You’re safe; I’m here.”

It takes a while for me to calm down, only sniffling a little now. Dad’s presence has made the fear fade though it still exists.

“Do you feel better?” he asks. I shrug. “Hmm. Here. Blow your nose.”

He reaches for a tissue off the side table and I do as he says, loudly.

“Eww!” he laughs. Cleaning my face, I giggle at his silly reaction. “There’s that goofy smile.” My tongue pokes out at him which he does back. “Feeling better now?”

“A little,” I mumble.

“Should we go back to bed?”

My head shakes. “Uh uh.”

“No huh,” he hums. “Well…” His eyes catch on the window. “The sky looks clear; do you wanna go for a ride?”

“A ride?” I blurt out. I know well that every trip with Dad is an adventure, but it’s the middle of the night—it’s dark outside.

He shushes me with a smile, puts me on the floor, and waves me to follow. Hands over my mouth, I sneak outside after my father.

With the door closed behind us, Dad walks onto the front yard.

“Watch this.” He puts his hand out, palm open. Glitter dances around his fingers before a big, shiny key appears from thin air. However, before I can burst with questions, he holds a finger up. The key flies from his hand with a sweep of his arm. It twirls through the air, turning back like a boomerang. A bright light flashes and the key is suddenly no longer a key but a massive vehicle. It looks like a giant bike but without wheels, floating across the yard back to my dad.

Grinning, Dad says, “Alright, let’s go.”

“Woah!” I exclaim, racing across the grass to him. “What is that?!”

“It’s a keyblade glider.”

“Oooo. Is this what we’re gonna ride?” I ask as he lifts me up.

Dad sits down on the machine with me right in front of him. “Yes, but don’t tell your mom, ‘kay?” I put a finger to my grinning lips and Dad laughs, “That’s my little lion cub. Hold on tight.”

The machine rumbles to life. I expect the thing to move forward, but instead, it begins rising. Gasping, I tighten my grip on my seat when I see the ground get far away. An arm slips around my waist and the vehicle turns towards the water.

My grip never loosens as we fly through the air, especially when we go over the water. I live on an island, but Mom says I’m still not allowed to swim alone. Besides that, it’s so dark down there, like a giant, black monster prepared to swallow us up. This is starting to feel like a bad idea.

The bike slows to a stop and I expect it to start falling with us on it, but we just float where we are, high above the water.

“What do you think?” my dad asks.

I lean back against him. “I wanna go home…”

His arm tightening around me makes me feel somewhat better, but it’s not enough. “How come?”

“Scary” is the only word I can mumble, still watching the monster far below.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you,” he says against my hair.

“I don’t like the dark.”

A hand slips under my chin, making me look away from the water. “Then look up.”

My eyes move to the stars and I’m surprised. I always thought the sky at night was black and dark and kind of frightening—I didn’t know I was wrong. A pretty mix of blue and purple make up the sky as if someone painted it. Tons of tiny lights cover the whole thing, sparkling like little diamonds. A bright, shining moon hangs among the stars with a peaceful glow. It’s amazing.

“Woah…” I whisper, sitting up.

“Pretty, isn’t it,” Dad hums. I nod. “Wanna hear a secret?”

“What?”

“Every one of those stars is another world.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“How do you know?”

When he doesn’t answer, I look back. He’s smiling that smile he uses when I see him look at Mom. It’s my favorite smile but I don’t understand why he’s using it.

“Because I’ve been to them.”

“Really?! When?! How?! What are they like?!”

“Woah, slow down. One question at a time.”

Dad tells me about the other worlds and his adventures on them. He answers all my questions, becoming more amazing than I already believed him to be. He’s strong and brave and he’s gone to other worlds and helped so many people—my dad is the most amazing person. However, as he speaks, I can’t help noticing just how many stars are scattered across the sky. They’re so far away and there’s so many; the universe is really big—and I’m so small.

Dad notices. “Hey, what’s with the frown?”

“I wish I could see other worlds.”

“One day we’ll go see them.”

I shake my head. “What if something happens? What if the darkness gets me?”

“Why would the darkness get you?”

I hate to tell him my next words. “’Cause I’m scared. I’m not brave like you.”

Dad hums thoughtfully. “Well that’s the thing: you’re not brave because you’re not scared. You’re brave because you keep going even though you’re scared. Everyone gets scared.”

“But you got to see all the worlds and saved a lot of people.”

“And I was scared. There are a lot of scary things out there, but there’s a lot of good things out there too. And if you let the scary things keep you from doing anything, then it wins and you don’t get to see the good things.” Dad looks back to the sky. “So even when we’re scared, we can’t let the scary things keep us down. And I know you’re my brave little lion cub.”

“How do you know?”

“Because when you had a nightmare, you came to find me instead of being scared all by yourself. And that makes you brave.”

“Really?” I didn’t feel brave in that moment.

He nuzzles my cheek with his nose. “Absolutely.”

A smile tugs at my lips and I look back to all the worlds glittering in the sky. Dad has never lied to me before so it’s not hard to believe he’s gone to see other worlds. Believing that I’m brave like him is another story though. I’m just a little kid; there’s no way I can be brave on my own.

I look back at him. “Will you go with me? When I go to other worlds?”

There’s that smile he uses for Mom again. “Of course. I gotta teach you to use the keyblade after all.”

That settles it: I’ll get out there and see those other worlds someday. They may be far away and I might have to go through some darkness to see them, but I know I can do anything with my dad with me. I trust him no matter what.

“I can’t wait,” I say.

Hugging tightly, he makes me safer—braver—than I’ve ever been. “I’ll always be right where you need me, lion cub, no matter how scary things get.” A kiss meets the top of my head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Right after those words, a yawn comes out of my mouth.

Dad chuckles. “Alright, let’s go home and get to bed before your mom finds us missing.”

The flight back is very different than the flight out. Black water doesn’t seem like such a scary thing anymore and the sky is full of adventures I’ll one day have with my dad. It’s still full of unknown things but I’m not as afraid as I was before.

The vehicle touches down in the yard, vanishing after we hop off. By now, I’m ready for bed again, almost asleep against Dad’s shoulder.

The front door slams open. Fully alert, I look to the house where I see Mom.

“SORA!”

“Uh oh.”

#sora #kh sora #child!reader #gender neutral reader #novas requests

18 notes · View notes

peanutxparker · 4 years

Text

A (very long) list of all of my favorite AJJ lyrics because why not

Candy Cigarettes and Cap Guns (2005)

“Well my great grand-dad he died of cancer, from smoking too many cigarettes. But I must confess that he did quite profess to being the coolest motherfucker I ever met.”

“And cocaine is essentially vegan and they don't give a fuck anyway.”

“And I can't help but miss him even though he hit me everyday.”

“So fuck white people! (fuck white people!)”

“Heaven is a special place in hell where you can watch the people you hate get hurt.”

“You find me quite charming and I find it quite alarming ‘cause I'm gonna take your life. You find me quite charming and I find it quite alarming and I'm sad you won't be my wife.”

“What makes you think you can be so pretty? And what makes you think you can be so great? And what makes you think you can be so intelligent? And what makes you think you can be so far away?”

“What makes you think you can be so wonderful? And what makes you think you can be so keen? And what makes me think I can be so hurtful? And what makes me think I can be so mean?”

“Sometimes I feel like a cigarette, I'm wrapped in paper and I'm suffocating to death.”

“I don't want to be a cigarette anymore. I'll go to hell in my self death all day and night, so please just put me out.”

People Who Can Eat People Are The Luckiest People In The World (2007)

“Rejoice despite the fact this world will hurt you. Rejoice despite the fact this world will kill you. Rejoice despite the fact this world will tear you to shreds. Rejoice because you’re trying your best”

“I'm afraid to leave the house. I'm as timid as a mouse. I'm afraid if I go out I'll outwear my welcome. I'm not a courageous man. I don't have any big lasting plans. I'm too cowardly to take a stand, I want to keep my nose clean. And it's sad to know that we're not alone in this and it's sad to know that there's no honest way out. In this life we lead, we could conquer everything if we could just get the brave to get out of bed in the morning.”

“And I give a thank-you to my father for not raising me, and I give a finger to my step-father for beating me, and I give props to myself for achieving, and god damn I’m glad that I survived, and god damn I’m surprised that I survived.”

“So I looked into your eyes and I saw the reflection of a coward you and I both hate very much and then I grabbed the knife and I let the blood out of your throat and I smashed those tiny mirrors inside of your skull.”

“If I don’t go to hell when I die I might go to heaven, might go to heaven. But probably not.”

“Just happy times and half assed rhymes and mimes because mimes are dears, but most of all I want no more tears.”

“No more racism. No more discrimination. No more fat dumb fucks keeping people out of our nation.”

“We’re all one big band across this land and we should sing in tune. Let us grow the balls to break the walls, we’ve got to do it soon.”

“And I hope our candles flicker and die so that our hearts don’t burn to the ground.”

“First we were babies, we're birthing and dying. Then we were children, we're playing and crying. And then we're teenagers and smoking and fucking. But now we're all grown up and we're sadly sighing.”

“And your manic depression, it comes and it goes. Your parasympathetic nervous system reacts and you're in fight or flight mode.”

“How's the world so small when the world is so large? And what made the world? Could I please speak to who's in charge? Everything is real but it's also just as fake. From your daughter's birthday party to your grandmother's wake.”

“I've tried to know which words to sing so many times. I tried to know which chord to play and I tried to make it rhyme. And I tried to find the key that all good songs are in. And I tried to find that notes to make that great, resounding din.”

“There's someone in your head waiting to fucking strangle you.”

“I've got essays, I've got finals due. I have got lots and lots of problems.”

“Welcome to this world, have as much fun as you would like while helping others have as much fun as you're having. Be kind to those you love and be kind to those you don't but for God's sake you gotta be kind.”

Can’t Maintain (2009)

“I wanna pick up the pieces and plant them in the ground. When a tree grows there I want to chop that tree down. Build it into a boat and float it in a lake. And with dynamite I will explode the thing that makes me make mistakes.”

“Sometimes I get so lonesome I can't breathe. Sometimes I get so scared that I can't speak. Sometimes I get so worried I can't hear my heartbeat. Anyway…”

“I wanna tear out my heart and give it away to a person more deserving one day. If all I see is the worst in everything that's all I'm gonna get, that's all I'm gonna get, that's all I'm gonna get.”

“And people freak me out. People make me scared. People make me so damn self-aware.”

“I get bronchitis twice a year at least. My lungs aren't the way they should be. And I smoke more than a mother fuckin chimney. I declare war on my body.”

“You will cough up crows that peck my eyes and I will do nothing but go blind.”

“We could live there together or I'll live alone, less happy but I'll live... unfortunately.”

“And no one will know how I truly feel ‘cause I can no longer differentiate between what is fake and what is real. I don't know how I feel.”

“And I will always appreciate bad days like this because they grant me a point of reference in regards to my happiness.”

“If the bridge that I was driving over collapsed while I was driving over it that may not be such a bad thing. I would finally meet my maker, I could meet the great creator, and I'd punch him for teaching me how to sing.”

“Don't know if I believe in god but sometimes I pray because the way I was raised keeps me afraid.”

“I hope I can forgive me for having the nerve to exist. I hope someone can help me make some sense of this.”

“Sense and sensibility and peaceful productivity, a pretty girl with broken wings is all that I desire. But there's so much hostility in all the things surrounding me. The awful glow of enmity is trying to stop my shine. So I try to look inwardly at all the things inside of me but sodomy and buggery keep bubbling to the top.”

“I met you once over the phone, you sounded sad and you seemed alone. You left me but I never left you. I never had the chance to.”

“If you spend all your heart on something that has died you are not alive and that can't be your life.”

Knife Man (2011)

“There's no one to blame. People are just fucking mean.”

“So if I see a penny on the ground, I leave it alone or fucking flip it. I'm a straight white male in America. I've got all the luck I need.”

“I've got a pile of broken mirrors and I'm walking under ladders and I'll spill a ton of salt because to me that doesn't matter.”

“You were dead by the time that I had found you. Your blood was spilled on the couch where we had first kissed. So I carried you west to the sea so I could wash you. Your body felt just like a back pack.”

“I hate whiny, fucking songs like this but I can't afford a therapist. Sorry guys, here's a solo.”

“Some days I feel like I'm the weakest and others the strongest. These days are the longest and I've got the weirdest feeling about this and I wanna go away for a while.”

“I wish I had a bullet big enough to fucking kill the sun. I'm sick of songs about the summer.”

“When you have no one, you are no one. Like I said, I used to work at the people pound. All these no ones clumped together, just like a human lost and found. If they left them all be someones there wouldn't be enough to go around. It's better for us all us if there are no ones. And I knew a lot of no ones round that time. They used to all be someones until something took their life and all their someones disappeared while they're stuck there waiting in a line. And for them now, no one seems to have the time.”

“They say ambition is an enemy of weakness and greatness is an enemy of fame.When I pick up my guitar and I try to write a song, I think of what my mentor used to say… “Who fucking gives a rat's ass Steve, just write a love song. Cus they'll keep your belly full and your wallet lined. Don't bother these nice people with your sad sack songs. If you ask me I think they're just a waste of time.””

“Inspiration is the best friend of my sorrow and sorrow is the best friend of my drink. Well I want to look myself in the eye tomorrow but I'm too worried of what other folk's will think.”

“And the troubles in my heart need to get let out. And the troubles in my heart need to escape. And I never liked writing poetry and I never liked doing pottery and God knows that I never learned to paint. So every now and then, I'll sing sad songs. Cus it keeps my spirit light and my conscience clean. And if you don't care to hear I don't mind if you go out for some air. Cus I'm happy that you're happier than me.”

“So I wish I had a cigarette for every time a perfect stranger asked me for a cigarette but I wonder what a cigarette will really do to help that person out. I wish to God I had some spare change for every time a perfect stranger asked me for some spare change but there's not enough spare change in the world to make such an empty gesture count.”

“You can hope it gets better and you can follow your dreams but hope is for presidents and dreams are for people who are sleeping.”

“You don't have it any better and you don't have it any worse. You're an irreplaceable human soul with your own understanding of what it means to suffer and that’s a huge bummer.”

“I'm afraid of the way I live my life. I'm afraid of the way I don't. I'm afraid of the things that I want to do but I won't. I'm afraid of God. I'm afraid to believe and I'm afraid of all the loved ones that I've made leave. I'm afraid that my dog doesn't love me anymore. I'm afraid of the social laziness that let Kitty Genovese die. And I'm afraid of the mob mentality that makes otherwise normal people go blind. I'm afraid of the way that the world works and I'm afraid of the words in my notebooks. I'm afraid that you all know that I am a pervert.”

“It's harder to be yourself than it is to be anybody else. I wish I were a little less of a coward but the big red bird that lives under the city doesn't give a damn about me and it dies every night. So I bought a knife. I am a knife.”

Rompilation (2012)

“I used to be a spiderman, I used to be a cowboy from hell, but not anymore. Now I'm just a clam and I live inside this shell inside this shell I am. God damn I hate my brain.”

“I'll dip my brain in medicine so that you can stand to be with me.”

“Give me your tired, give me your tired, give me your poor. When our government acts like this, I wonder what World War II was for and the rest of the country hates us more and more. Lady Liberty is not a whore.”

“This is not a protest, it's a tortoise slowly pushing through a race. I hope the tortoise keeps its patience while the hare continues to pepper-spray its face.”

“There is no enemy, there's only people that also love their families and they're scared that they won't have enough long after they are deceased. But how much money do they need? Love turns into fear, and fear turns into greed. There is no enemy, there's only dummies that also love their families.”

“And this is not a phase, it's just a matter of time, with diligence and peacefulness, you will reach them and you will change their minds. If you stay there long enough, they'll start to see you.”

“And when you pushed my face in shit how could that have made you feel like a man or like a monster. It's your fault that I can't tell the difference.”

“In the evening I try songwriting. I'm self loathing, but I love singing. I'll try escaping these evil feelings but they keep coming, they keep coming…”

“So the baby's gonna have a daddy, that's wonderful news. He won't be the greatest parent but neither will you! Gotta get out while you can, otherwise you're screwed. Your legs are broken and your eyes are black and blue.”

“And smoking is like hiring a hitman for five dollars a day, and as cool as that is, I don't wanna keep dying this way.”

Christmas Island (2014)

“Shoot him again ‘cause I can see his soul dancing.”

“If you give it to me I’ll give it back much harder. If you treat me like a son, then I’ll treat you like a daughter. Everyone has a future, everyone has a soul, everyone has a heart, they have a mind, they have control.”

“The Coffin Dancer dances like he has something the prove because he does. He sleeps a couple hours in the morning, hates the morning when he wakes up.”

“The Coffin Dancer dances like he wants to make a friend, but he does not.”

“Getting naked and playing with guns. There's a gerbil in the microwave, a baseball bat in everyone. Sharing kisses and building a bomb. We'll set it off like Microsoft in '94.”

“McDonald's PlayPlace before the Xbox, cake frosting, sweet talking, bedroom wall, covered in knives, touching God, burning shit. We'll make a wish and take a trip to Future Town like our daddy did.”

“Have you ever wanted to be, have you ever wanted to see someone better in the mirror? Have you ever wanted to go, have you ever wanted to know somewhere greener, somewhere cleaner. I bet you got something beautiful in mind.”

“I can’t handle astounding works of beauty. I think I like my pretty pretty ugly but the beautiful soul I witnessed in that movie was an entirely different kind of overwhelming. It was a dog that won’t stop barking. Like a cut that never stops bleeding. Arizona sunsets in the early evening. Or a grown man inconsolably weeping.”

“I am the Kool-Aid stains on the mouth of a kid whose name is most likely Cody. He had a juice box for breakfast and he carries a stick that he most likely found in the alley. Cody doesn't have friends and his parents hate each other and he wants to find a better way to love his family and after school he hangs out in the abandoned house behind the Arby's.”

The Bible 2 (2016)

“Oh, I love you cause I love you cause I can.”

“On your last night at Saint Mary's you were way too intoxicated to breathe. So I used your ribs as ladders and I climbed up on your chest and I jumped up and down just like a trampoline.”

“Confused and rude. Such a special kind of way to be cruel.”

“If I were one of the things, I'd be american garbage. The most beautiful thing. The most beautiful american garbage you have ever seen.”

“No more shame, no more fear, no more dread.”

“And if you don't want to feel the feeling, no one should ever make you feel the feeling.”

“I thought I saw you before I knew who you were.”

“I just wanted to rage but all I got was tired”

“I showed him all the books that I was raised on. Your Madeleine L'Engle(s) and D'Aulaires' Mythologies.”

“And his eyes became a beacon, an LCD projector, broadcasting all my memories in a clear and vivid picture. His tongue became a staircase, his uvula - The knocker of an ornate wooden door that lead me straight into my future. His throat became a hallway with a thousand baby pictures and I became forgiveness, I transformed into the closure that I lost when I learned about the tragedy of all of us. I lost it when I learned about the tragedy of all of us.”

Good Luck Everybody (2019)

“If you don't give it to them they'll starve to death and that's alright.”

“I've got the normalization blues, this isn't normal, this isn't good.”

“I'm detached and I'm distracted, all keyed up but unproductive, vacillating between being all excited and disgusted and then dozing lackadaisically in this bubble where I've made my mental home. Connection's more important now than it ever was, but I'd rather be alone.”

“And when we talk about the president, we're either pissed off or we're giggling about an atrocity he's committing or some stupid shit he's tweeting. He's a symptom and a weapon of the evil men who really run the show. The ones who melt down human beings into money like a cruel Sorcerer's Stone.”

“This is the golden age of dickotry, probably the last golden age of anything, and the ugliest word in the English language is anthropocene. Good luck, everybody. Good luck.”

“But before that, you'll be a doormat, for every vicious narcissist in the world. Oh how they'll screw you, all up and over, then feed you silence for dessert.”

“I'm sorry that you have to have a body, filled with infection, one hundred scabs singing in unison, eyes and hands, sometimes bullets, uninvited, passing through us.”

“Oh to be awake for such a shitty dream. A bullet in the head of every decent thing.”

“The lake of dead black children that America created is getting fuller than the founding Fathers even wanted. The ghost of great America was underestimated and now it rages like a cold sore on the lip of this dumb nation. Again we've slipped inside a pit of absolute despair. That's where we live.”

“Rewarding our worst cruelty, they destroyed our shared reality, and now they upsell us our dignity like some fucked VIP package.”

“There is no absolute, these days there's no such thing as truth and you don't need to be a dick about it.”

“I'm a burnout and a fool, oblivious to all I do. I move my lips when I read and breathe with my mouth open, wide open. Timid, meek, and cruel, this is the best that I can do. I need to speak my truth, yet here I'm broken wide, wide open. My resentment, big and strong, and all the things that I can't change. They'll buckle me beneath the weight. I will drive myself insane with all the things that I can't change. I hate all the things that I can't change.”

“You're a loudmouth and a tool, and as it turns out I am too, and you don't need to be a dick about it.”

“Because I know that you know what I need more than me and I know that you need me more than that.”

“For all the pussies you grab and the children you lock up in prison, for all the rights you roll back and your constant stream of racism, for all the poison you drip in my ear, for all your ugly American fear. I wrote you this beautiful song called Psychic Warfare.”

“I hate you with all of my heart. I hate you with all of my art.”

“I went back to the desert, little Midwest in me, and now I am colder than I used to be. I live in a fortress the shape of my body, and now there's a coldness, and it's shaped like me. Now I don't suffer any more bullshit gladly. Even though everything's bullshit now, here in 2019 and you can bet it's gonna be a bunch of bullshit too out in sweet 2020 or whenever this album's released.”

#ajj band #ajj #andrew jackson jihad

111 notes · View notes