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babykatsu · 3 years

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PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

RATING: nsfw

WARNINGS: jealous bakugou, sexual implications (no full on smut), kinda fluff?, strong language, aged-up of course

REQUEST: @anniebromberg tysmm for requesting<3 here’s a lil jealous bakugou fic!! it was really fun to finally write again. i really hope u like it <3 🤲🏻

WORDCOUNT: 1.6k

SYNPOSIS:

Katsuki, your boyfriend, made sure EVERYONE knew that you were his. Well, for the most part at least. He was not one for PDA since he still liked his privacy. You know, some things are better left just for the two of you to enjoy behind the scenes. But this habit of his led to something else... So when you were both out for a short coffee date that you had somehow managed to arrange amidst your busy schedules, Katsuki was beyond fuming to see an extra trying to flirt with you.

The smell of roasted coffee beans filled your nose as your boyfriend gently opened the door to the cafe you frequented. The rich bitter fragrance, with a hint of its inviting warmth, filled the atmosphere. It made your mouth water and yearn for that creamy, smooth drink. The subtle chatter of the customers, the clinking of cups, and other cutlery gently grazed your hearing. Nostalgic. That was the best way to put how you felt right now. It took you back to your first date with Katsuki, and though he will never admit it, this exact coffee shop is his favorite date spot. The subtle way his hand slipped out from yours as you two approached the counter interrupted your train of thought.

"Katsuki?" You questioned.

"I'll be back. I need to go to the toilet real quick. Don't order without me, okay?"

"Of course!"

With that, he shuffled his way through a couple of people before disappearing out of your vision. Awkwardly, you made your way off to the side elsewhere. In your little corner of the shop, you eyed people regularly coming in and out of the cafe. Admittedly, aimlessly standing there observing people was a tad bit uncomfortable and honestly creepy, but you knew Katsuki wouldn't take long. Well, you hoped so, at least.

Your solitude, however, did not last long. It took barely a couple of minutes before one of the people who had entered the establishment locked their eyes with yours. Not only did they maintain their gaze on you, but they even began making their way to you. In embarrassment, you glanced off to the side, eyes glued to where you last saw Katsuki go, awaiting to see his familiar face in the masses. To your disappointment, he wasn't there. And now this stranger was right next to you.

"waiting for your order, sweetheart?" A scratchy husk voice questioned, nudging their shoulder to yours almost in a joking manner. You didn't take lightly to the friendly gesture, feeling somewhat violated by the invasion of personal space.

"I haven't ordered yet" You smiled briskly, finally facing the person beside you. Your response only acted as an open invitation for this complete randomer to get even closer, their hand slithering around your waist.

"How about I buy you a drink, darling? How does that sound?" Though you tried to budge, it felt as though it only made the stranger cling to you tighter.

As your heart drummed against your chest, you pleaded for Katsuki to get back soon. And to your delight, you heard his familiar voice as he obnoxiously cleared his throat.

The man's seemingly tight grasp on you loosened, taking a few steps back from you as he glanced back at your boyfriend.

"You with them?" The stranger asked, seemingly anxious. It didn't take long until Katsuki interlocked his fingers with yours, palms sweaty and his grip firm.

"The fuck do you think, dumbass?"

You knew Bakugou wanted to raise his voice, but you saw his restraint. He was clenching his jaw as he spoke through gritted teeth. And worst of all, you could see the hazy distress in his eyes as he stared down at the man in front of him. Perhaps he was holding back to save you the humiliation of causing a stir in your favorite cafe, or maybe this was his breaking point. You never really knew what went through Katsuki's head, but the defeat you sensed come from him had you worried.

"Stop just looking at me and fuck off already." Katsuki spat out before dragging you out of the coffee shop.

Oddly enough, you'd think him aggressively yelling would depict his frustration more. Only, in this case, his silence was deafening. He marched around Tokyo's streets as you delayed behind him, his hand refusing to let go of yours

"Katsuki! Hold on!" You just barely let out. "We are going home." He spoke bluntly. "Do you not have to be back to work in 20 minutes?" With a frustrated sigh escaping his parted lips, he came to a halt.

"Then can we hurry up and get home, y/n?" Facing you, he spoke in a beaten tone.

He squeezed your hand tighter in reassurance before resuming his stride, only this time walking at a more manageable pace for you to keep up.

"You know I hate it when those extras try and talk to you. It's my fault for leaving you alone." He avoided eye contact as he stared up ahead, his car coming into view.

"And I know it's not your fault that dumbasses like that approach you but it still frustrates me, you know. Like, at least if you're with me, the bare minimum I could do is make sure those jerks know their place."

You always knew he was protective over you, usually never hesitating to bark out at those who tried to approach you, yet this time was different. This time felt like he was fed up beyond recognition. A random stranger flirting with you interrupted the date you two had managed to arrange after weeks of not having any alone time.

"Please don't stress yourself over that, baby! I promise you don't have to worry. I don't want anyone but you." You reassured, encircling yourself around his arm. Pulling out his car keys, you heard the familiar chime of his car unlocking.

"I know. It's still gonna annoy me nonetheless, though. How fucking hard is it for them to understand that you're mine and not theirs?"

Swiftly, he lowered you into the car seat as you unhooked yourself from his arm. You waited as he rounded the car, taking his seat next to you. Dropping his head back, he let out another frustrated sigh.

You didn’t know how exactly to break this tension that was between you two. You clasped his hand before saying the only thing that you knew that Katsuki could never turn down.

"Then make sure they know I'm yours." you challenged with a slight grin on your face.

He raised a brow at you, doubtingly but regardless, you could see him try and contain the smile that was growing in his face.

"Do you really want to challenge me to that?" His face lit up as he tilted it towards you.

"You have 15 minutes before you have to be back at work. Do your best-" But before you could fully complete your sentence, his lips had already fallen on yours. This wasn’t exactly the way you expected him to accept your challenge. But how could you deny him?

"I'll make sure everyone knows who you fucking belong to, darling." His breath trickled down your neck as he nibbled at your ear, causing goosebumps to dance down your skin. Butterflies swarmed your stomach as you began to feel excited for what he would do next.

His silky lips glided against every inch of exposed skin and his hands didn't hesitate to caress everything his lips couldn't reach. Lightly, he raised his head once more, his darkened crimson eyes peering at you with his signature stare. Gaze dipping lower down your face, he studied your lips, glazed in his previous embrace.

His plump mouth reconnected with yours, gently melting against you. The taste of caramel dripping from his tongue as it swiped your bottom lip. You savored every taste of him, granting him access. Delicate yet rough, he readily explored your mouth. Whirling his tongue around yours, before pulling away to tug at your lip. From gently pecks, to deep french kisses, he kept you guessing every time he leaned back in. And he continued to devour you, breathlessly pressing further into you as he only ventured you further. His hands crawling up your shirt, kneading your waist as he drove his chest towards yours. There was no space left between you two. The thrashing of his heart more noticeable than ever, you felt the adrenaline that ran around his body similarly to your own. Breathless, he parted from you. His cheeks scattered in a pink shimmer as his chest rose up and down as he panted for air.

"Hope on" He motioned to his lap.

And you did just that, throwing one leg over and repositioning yourself to rest above him.

His hands resumed their adventure, leisurely inching up your thighs as his thumbs rubbed in circles. Higher and higher Katsuki's hands reached, and you grew more feverish by the moment. Eyes fluttering to his lips and next down his body, you felt the pit of your stomach lust in anticipation and nervousness.

"Don't tease me now! You know we don't have time" You whined, rocking yourself against him before leaning in to meet his lips. But, he yanked away.

"Say please" He tipped his head, a taunting grin plastered across his face. You couldn't help but feel yourself get warm at his words, a drop of embarrassment streaming through you.

"P-please" You somewhat stammered, but Bakugou adhered to his word, cupping your face and drawing you back towards himself.

His hands slipped up your back, chilly fingers hovering just above your skin as they traced up and down the ridges of your spine. But these more satiny touches soon turned desperate once more. You were met by the clawing of his nails against your back. Down, his lips crept to your neck where he resumed his caresses. Gentle squirms and cries hung from your lips as you felt every lick his cushiony tongue made, every moment his teeth immersed into your skin, and every kiss he settled thereafter. There was no doubt he had left marks and it excited your body all over as you heaved for air. Tugging yourself to him, he bucked his hips up causing a groan to leave him, his breath lingering softly as it cascaded across the back of your neck. The feeling of his hardened cock leaving you craving for more.

But before you continue your endeavor, the sound of an alarm broke you from one another. Bakugou reached for his phone before being greeted with the message he wanted to see the least right now.

'work starts in 3 minutes'

This only meant you'd have to continue what you two had started after work, which only riled you two on more.

“I’ll finish you off at home. Got it?”

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

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Welcome, Father...

"Tell us, demon scum." The male agent grabbed the light from the female agent, shoving it in his face, "Who do you work for? Satan?"

"How did you get to our world from the afterlife?"

"Why are youse killing humans?"

"When did you show up here?"

The damned agents finally stoped passing the lights about, giving him a moment to adjust to the situation.

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there, bitch." He snapped at the humans, "First of all, we just woke up from a very nasty shock and I'm still feeling fuckin' woozy, so I'm gonna request you fetch us some coffee before we get into this. I mean, everyone gets coffees in shitty movies with scenes like this, am I right? I want something iced, bitch." Looking over his shoulder, he asked his employee, "Mox?"

Raising his nose, Moxxie began, "I'll have a Neopolitan cappuccino, more cappu than cino, make sure it's got no more than four ounces of milk, the beans won't have the right texture otherwise, and make sure they spell my name correctly on the cup they always put "Foxy" or "Roxy", I hate that."

"If you can't handle that, I'll have a Venti traditional Misto. Please use soy milk with two blond shots Affogato and Ristretto. I'd also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom. Then, add the coffee after, then-"

"Enough!" The male agent snapped, "We aren't getting youse coffee!"

"Wow, I was getting massive douche chills just there, Mox." He told him proudly, "Congrats!"

"If we have to, we are willing to resort to torture methods to get answers out of you nasty hell beasts!" The female agent failed to sound threatening.

"When you say "tortured", do you mean physical or psychological?" Moxxie asked in his typical know-it-all tone, "Physical seems counterproductive; we would likely tell you anything if it meant an end to the pain, and you have no way of knowing what was true." He spouted at the humans.

"Or we might like it too much." He but in, "And then you got a whole new thing to deal with."

The male agent leaned down, raising a bore "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you're stupid, huh? I can work with stupid. Daddy Likey Dummy!" Blitzø taunted the agent.

"Good one sir, Daddy likey-" Moxxie sputtered, squirming in his chair.

"You better stop laughin' at us." The female agent threatened.

"Yeah! You're the ones at our mercy!" The male agent yelled at him, grabbing his collar

"It's hard to resist, I'm really sorry. I mean, considering your approach thus far, you've had us tied up here for what, hours?" Mox cut in, "And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are!" Moxxie mocked the agents like the nerd he was.

"What are you?" The female agent asked, a curious tone coming to the females voice.

"I'm a Virgo." Moxxie told her, smugness dripping from his voice.

Both Imps burst into laughter, the agents only getting more frustrated.

Just as the male agent was gonna snap at them, the door to the room suddenly swung open.

An unnatural amount 9f light poured into the room, blinding them all for a brief moment. Once there eyes adjust, they found a silhouette standing in the doorway.

They were dressed in black, looking up a distinct shine came from his eyes, the figure wearing glasses.

Walking into the room, the figure spoke, "The question isn't what they are? The question is why there here?" He spoke cryptically.

Stepping closer the male agent came to meet the stranger halfway, "Who da Hell ah' you and how'd you get in here?" The male agent demanded.

Raising his gaze the stranger wore a smile.

The agent noticeably reacted. Stumbling back "F-f-f-father Cain... W-what are you's doin here?" He sputtered.

This 'father' just smile at him, "My associates informed me you acquired two new specimens." He looked at him, "I've come to process them." He spoke menacingly.

Father cain looked over the agents shoulder, gazing at him and Moxxie. "Excellent job My child. I always knew my faith was well placed." The father told the agent, patting his shoulder.

The agent seemed taken aback, "Th-thank you Sir." He spoke, a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Father Cain?" The female agent asked, walking up to 'father' Cain. "Last I heard you were down at some beach on Spring break."

Smiling at the pair, father cain raised a finger, "Ive no time for such hedonistic pleasures. Not while the Lords work is to be done" He said happily.

"Now" He began cheerfully "I need a table if I am to do my work." He spoke firmly, raising a medium sized doctors bag, that seemed to appear from nowhere.

The male agent snapped to attention, quickly running about before rushing into the back room.

Walking forwards, Father Cain removed his glasses, staring down at him. "My, my, my, they certainly did a good job. Quite a pair of specimens you have here." He spoke to himself.

Raising a brow, Blitzø wore a little grin. "Oh yeah? You should see my junk, now thats a specimen." He spoke in his usual cocky tone.

'Father' Cain just smiled, slowly walking around to Moxxie inspecting him as well. "And unharmed, very impressive." The 'Father' told the female agent.

A moment later, the male agent returned, awkwardly dragging in a large wooden table. Dropping it down, he gave a few deep puffs, "There ya go 'Fatha', will this do?"

'Father' Cain smiled told him, gratefully telling him "That will do perfectly, thank you my child."

Walking over, the 'Father' placed his bag down before opening it and pulling out a myriad of odd and strange objects.

There was a series of shiny items and tools. Although a small wooden case caught his attention, the Imp couldn't help but think it didn't belong.

"Hey, uh, you guys seem pretty chummy and we'd hate to be a third wheel, so we'd be happy to leave you to it." He cut in smugly, hoping to get a rise from one of them.

And that he did, the male agent trying to snap at him, only to be tempered by this 'Father' Cain

Calming down, the male agent asked, "What did you mean, when you came in Sit. That it's not "What they are, it's why there here?'"

Smiling, Father Cain patted his shoulder, "I'm glad you caught that, I always knew you were sharp."

He smoke warmly, "I said that because, simply put. I know what they are. They are Imps." He said it simply.

That actually surprised him, even Moxxie reacted, releasing the slightest gasp.

Looking over the father just had a eerie smile, clearly happy with there reaction.

Both agents looked confused, "Imps?" They asked each other.

The father released a deep sigh, "Yes, Imps. Imps are the very lowest of the low in hell, as well as the lowest of the Hellbornes, or Hellspawn, I can never seem to remember which is the proper term."

Walking over, Father Cain placed a finger under his chin, raising his head to meet his gaze. "Your responsible for the death of a two hundred and sixty three humans." He told him coldly.

"Yeah, but I wanna know is why?" The female agent asked, "If they were just killing humans for shits and giggles, why not just kill wherever and whenever?" She asked.

Nodding his head, "Because..." Father Cain stood up, "They do serve a higher demon, but not Satan."

Standing up, the 'Father' walked to his bag, pulling a yellow folder out. "They've killed hundreds, and the only thing that connects them...? Death."

There was another pause, before he spoke again, "But not there deaths. Each person they've killed has had someone directly related to there lives die in the past decade."

Walking over to the Imps, the 'Father' showed them a series of pictures. Blitzø recognised them... they were targets they'd killed.

"There not killing them for a demon lord, there killing them for other human souls. I imagine with a the ability to travel to the human world, you've turned revenge into a buisness." He said simply, tossing the pictures to the side.

Crouching down, the 'Father' stared at him coldly before asking "Who's book did you use to get here, Demon?"

Blitzø stared back at him, the Imp doing his best to keep calm. But he could tell this human was clearly more dangerous than the other two idiot 'demon hunters'.

Standing up, 'Father' Cain told the other agents coldly, "Leave us. Remove any cameras. I dont want any sort of witness."

"What?" The female agent asked aghast, "We caught these 'Imps' there our score and we'll be interrogating them." She snapped at the 'Father', only for the the father to calmly stare at her.

Before he could speak, the male agent grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her out of the room he spoke hastily "P-please forgive her, Sir. She doesn't fully understand the importance of your work."

The female agent put a fight, but was quickly pulled out of the room, slamming it behind him.

Now with just the three of them, 'Father' Cain removed his glasses before placing them on the table.

Stretching his neck, he removed the white collar piece at the front of his shirt, placing it in his coat pocket.

"Now" he began coldly "shall we begin the fun?"

Turning around, Blitzø decided now was a good time to speak up. "Fun, aye? What kinda fun we talkin. Shots, blow, maybe a good old fashioned threesome?" He asked, hoping to get under this 'Father' Cain's skin.

He was surprised, however, when the 'Father' just laughed, glancing over his shoulder at him.

"Your tricks won't work on me demon. I'm used to your tricks by now." He spoke happily, grabbing a small gun like object. Placing that down, he inspected a series of bottles.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Blitzø spoke up. "You clearly know more us then those dumbass agent dickwads did, so... what's your game?" He asked, trying to be serious.

The human stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder, he spoke up, "I know much about you. For instance, your the other Imps boss, hence he calls you Sir." He spoke coyly, still inspecting the myriad of items he'd brought.

"I also know you've killed people on three different continants, although I wonder how many you came up to kill specifically and how many were collateral." He spoke again.

Turning around he held a small bottle, walking forwards he leaned over Blitzø "I also know you can only get to the living world if your a succubus, a demon lord, or... you have a Grimoire."

Blitzø chuckled, "What is that some kinda fish?" He asked, trying to play dumb.

The 'Father' chuckled, shaking his head, "Besides how do you know I'm not a succubus, I can hold my own in the sack." He spoke smugly.

The 'Father' stared at him, an eerie smile crossing his lips.

"You want to know how i know what you are?" He asked coldly, cold eyes sending a shiver down his spine and not in the good way.

Before he could ask what I was, the father reach forwards, ripping a hole in his pants leg. "What the fuck?!" He yelled at him, "These are my good pants!"

Not minding him, the 'Father' removed a second bottle. "This" He showed him a small blue bottle, "Is poisen to Succubus." He said simply, opening the bottle and revealing an eye dropper, dropping two little droplets on his leg.

Nothing happened, the cool liquid sliding down and observing into his pant leg. Putting the bottle away He showed the original brown bottle, "This... is for Imps." He said simply.

Opening the bottle, it revealed another eye drop, holding it over his thigh, he dropped a single drop on his leg.

This time his whole body reacted, he pulled against his bindings as he released a blood curdling screech.

It felt like someone was jamming a molten hot poker into his thigh. It went on for minutes, the Imp whining in pain. "What the fuck do you want you sick fuck?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

A small smile crossed the 'Father's' lips before he stood up and told him "I want to show you something."

Walking over to the table, he grabbed that wooden case before bringing it over to the Imps.

Crouching down besides the both of them, he told the both of them "These are my most prized possessions." He spoke warmly, running his hand across the wooden case.

"What'cha got there? Ya dildo collection?" He tried to sound smug, though the Imp was still writhing in pain.

He heard moxxie tried to laugh, but it died in his throat, the smaller Imp still terrified by his boss's earlier reaction.

Opening the case, he revealed several colourful arrow heads, each one varying in size, shape and colour.

It took a long time, the imp looking over the arrow heads before he realised, 'Those aren't arrow heads... there demon tails.'

"Fuck..." Blitzø gasped, he heard Moxxie sputter out a similar cuss, just as scared behind him.

The 'Father' on the other hand, seemed quite proud, gently trailing his fingers across the tail heads.

"These are my life's work" He spoke calmly, "I've dedicated my life to hunting demons like you." He trailed his fingers across the tails, "Most of these are from Succubus. They can come and go from my world to yours the easiest, so most of the demons we find are Succubus."

He pointed to two crimson tail tips, "But these two... these two are special."

Leaning in, he spoke gently "These two... are from Imps." The revelation seemed to bring bile into the back of Blitzøs throat.

"Jesus..." moxxie said shakily, turning his head and throwing up.

Blitzø took a deep breath, doing his best not to throw up. Looking back at the human he found him holding up a tail head.

"This one" he told him, twirling it between his fingers, "I got at a little beach city. The city getting my attention after a giant demonic fish had popped up. Sound familiar." He asked with a smirk.

"Unfortunately most of them had used there demonic charm to escaped the police before I arrived... key word being, 'most'." He told him, turning his attention back on the tail head.

"I got this one from a succubus. She hid herself as a chubby little black woman. She played dumb, just like you, and much like you she was cocky and ignorant." Placing the tail tip into the container, he said coldly, "But now..."

He left the question open, clearly trying get in there heads. The problem being... it was working.

Standing up the human didn't speak for several long moments, before he placed the case on Blitzøs lap, gently telling him "Hold this"

Blitzø's whole body froze up, a deep sickness growing in his stomach as he felt the cool wooden case on his lap.

The human walked over to the mirror Blitzø only just noticed. The human stared at it for a long moment, the silence in the room becoming palpable.

Until the silence was dashed when the 'Father' smashed his arm through the mirror, before throwing his body back smashing the male agent through the mirror and slamming him into the wall.

Looking at his slumped form, 'Father Cain turned back to the now broken mirror, finding the terrified female agent standing there.

Releasing a deep sigh, the 'father' began climbing in through the now broken double sided mirror.

"It was your doing, wasn't it?" He asked, "I said I needed no witnesses, but you always did hold him back. What a waste of potential." The 'Father' told her, before grabbing her and dragging her through the window.

Bringing her to her knees, he grasped the sides of her head.

The woman desperately clawing at his arms. The female agent releasing a desperate cry for mercy as he began crushing her head.

Blood began trailing from her eyes and nose, crying out until her head splattered between his hands, sending a splatter of bone and brain matter across his face.

Dropping her now destroyed head, he realised it, the now sludge like head hit the ground with a wet splat.

Before the 'Father' flicked his hands, looked back at the Imps, "What the fuck are you?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

The human only smiled, walking over, he gently grabbed the wooden case before walking back over and placing it on the table.

Walking over to the now collapsed male agent, he placed his foot on the side of his head. "I... am alpha and Omega." He said coldly, staring him right in the eyes before crushing the other agents head beneath his foot.

Walking back to the table, he grabbed a red cloth, wiping his face before placing on his glasses he turned to the two Imps.

"Oh Satan... Oh, Satan please, please help me" Moxxie begged, clearly losing his shit. "Please just let me see Millie one last time, I don't want to die."

Before Blitzø could snap at his limp dick employee for showing weakness, the roof began to rumble, bit suddenly gave way, Millie falling through carrying a battle axe.

"MILLIE!!!" Moxxie practically cried, tears of joy beading in his eyes.

"MOX!" Millie cried back, rushing over and getting them out of ther bindings.

Just after that Loona broke through the door, Blitzø taking a moment to tell her how proud he was to see her in the field.

Now all free and together they turned to the 'Father', finding him still very much cool and collected, the sight sending a bone chilling shiver down his spine.

"Just in time" The human spoke, seemingly happy at the outcome "Its so good to see a family reunited."

"Now I imagine one of you have my Grimoire?" He asked inspecting his fingers. "Give it to me and I'll let you leave."

Now it was Blitzøs turn to chuckle, "Nah, I don't think so." He spoke cockily, reaching into his emergency pack for a gun.

The 'Father' just chuckled again, standing up straight he snapped his finger. And like it were choreographed, dozens of suit wearing humans burst into the room.

"Gentlemen!" He addressed them "These demonic scum have killed your commanders. And they shall do it again and again and again, until you send them back to hell." He told them, stepping into the back room.

The fight after that was one of the best Blitzø had ever had, although it would have been even better if he didn't have this injured leg.

Regardless, the whole thing was so bad ass and everyone was working together so well. He even got to see his Loony kick some ass.

Firing a missle, from his over sized launcher, he cleared what was left of the agents.

He'd though that was it, there weren't anybody left to stop them.

He was wrong.

The lights to switch to red, an alarm start blaring through the facility.

They all made for the door, only for a series of doors to slam in there face, locking them in the room.

His Loony tried desperately to read the book, but couldn't see anything in the crimson light that filled the room

It was then he heard a slow clapping, all of them turning to find the 'Father' giving them a condescending clap.

"Well done, Hellspawn, Well done. You've killed all the witnesses, depleted your ammunition and now I know you can't read the Grimoire in crimson light. Well done."

Standing before them, even outnumbered and unharmed, the 'Father' seemed to hold total control of the situation.

Before he could think of something any, all the air seemed to such out of the room, demonic whispers filling the room like shadows.

"You dare threaten my Impish little plaything~" the whispers spoke.

He knew this voice, but like his friends and family, he chose not to speak, too caught up in the moment.

Screens flew off the wall, avian footprints trailed across the floor. The bodies of the dead agents rose to there feet, eyes black as they began the intricate process of drawing some demonic symbol from there own blood.

Stepping back the 'Fther' looked about, before smiling, "Finally" He whispered, pulling out a flask and began chugging it.

Shadows seemed to slither like a million black snakes crawled across the floor, disappearing at the 'Fathers' feet.

There was a long pause before the human bent over and violently projectile vomited, throwing up what seemed like gallons of black liquid from his mouth.

The vomiting stopped, the human standing back up.

The back liquid slowly pulled itself to gathering, slowly morphing into a figure.

The black tar slowly formed into feathers, limbs and fingers, a set of crimson eyes appearing in the black goo.

The figure appeared to be Stolas. But this was not the elegant demon lord of hell.

This being was a wretched, wounded animal, covered in filth.

The 'Father' just wiped his mouth, that cold gaze returning to his eyes. Stepping forwards he grabbed Stolas by the filthy collar, staring him down.

The owl demon was a sputtering mess, coughing up black liquids as he tried to breathproperly.

The owl looked up at him.

And for the very first time in wjat was likely a millennia of existence, Stolas looked Terrified.

Not scared.

Terrified.

Grabbing at the arms of the human, the Prince of Hell sputtered out, "W-what are you?"

The human stopped, looking down at the owl, leaning down and whispered, "I am the beginning... and i am the end..."

The owl just stared up at him in horror, the humans hand coming to wrap around his throat, the demon feebly attempting to break free from his grasp.

There was a long moment where the only sound in the room was the prince's pitiful wheezing, frail little cries coming from the owl as the life was squeezed out of him.

The sounds were seemingly corked by a wet smack ringing out.

Blitzø had taken one of the agents weapons, a large knife and had impaled the 'Human' through the lower stomach.

There was a long moment of silence, before the 'human' slowly turned to look at him with that same cold gaze.

Without releasing Stolas, he pulled his arm back and smacked Blitzø, sending him sliding back to his friends.

Reaching down, he grabbed the knife, yanking it out of his back without hesitation.

Nothing came from his wound, and when pulling the knife out, no blood stained it's blade.

With knife in hand, he released the owl, letting his pathetic form hit the ground, the owl desperately gasping for breath.

Leaning down, you grasped Stolas' wrist, the owl releasing a pathetic little gasp of pain, followed by a frail little whimper as the 'Human' slid the blade across his wrist.

But what came next left them all shocked.

Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he pressed his mouth down before greedily suckling the foul blood straight from his veins.

He drank down the demons fowl blood, not making a sound cept the muscles of his throat contracting to push the fowl liquid down his throat.

The demons black blood flowed down his throat. Every demon in the room just watched, to shocked to think and to fearful to do anything as you had your way with the Prince.

After a few minutes of the 'Father' drinking the demons blood, he finally released the demons wrist. The owl quickly clutching his wrist to his chest as he desperately clawing to get away from the 'human'.

The 'Father' stood there, panting as a demons black blood stained his lips.

When he finally opened his eyes, they held a Unholy glint to them.

Wiping his lips he walked forwards, calmly packing what few items had survived the fighting into his bag before Putting on his glasses and placing the small white band into his shirt collar.

Walking past the now cowering demon Prince, he leaned over and pressed one of the buttons on the dashboard, instantly the lights returned to normal.

Stepping before the group they awaited some sort of attack, or threat, what they got instead was a single phrase "Excuse me."

He said it so simply, each hellborne took a moment to make sure they'd heard correctly.

Each of them just stared for a moment before Millie spoke up, "What?"

The human raised a brow, lowering his glasses he asked again, this time his voice cold, threateningly cold, "Excuse me."

The demons awkwardly stepped to the side, giving him a clear path to walk.

Walking past them he gave them a slight nod, "Thank you."

The demons were all in shock, silently watching the 'human' walk away from them.

"That's it?" Blitzø asked before he could stop himself, quickly slamming his hands to his mouth.

The 'Father' stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder, he smiled, "Kill you later." He told them playfully, lowering his glasses and giving them a wink.

He walked away, the eerie sound of his shoes on cold tile floors permanently burned into there memory.

Hey Hey, I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to try something a bit different. I had the idea for this in my head since episode 6 came out and I just really like the idea of an unknown entity showing up with either motive or intentions clear to anyone.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, I really wanna start writing more of my own original ideas, so expect more content in the future. Bye Bye.

#helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss I.M.P #truth seekers #episode 6 truth seekers #helluva boss truth seekers #helluva boss original character #not really clear what im doing #just going with the flow #my own idea

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clairenatural · 3 years

Text

destiel, 1k, more fluff :) for the anon who asked for "im a barista and you just ordered the most complicated and hideous drink and I wanna judge you but you're kinda cute"

Dean hates working the morning shift.

It’s something he does, both because he loves his employees too much to do that to them and because he has a very specific morning setup he doesn’t trust anyone else with, but he doesn’t enjoy it. The morning shift starts with a rush of grumpy people in business suits, the kind to just snap “coffee” at him while already checking their emails, and sleepy students in pajamas who stare at him like he’s speaking gibberish when he asks what size they want.

The initial rush fades into the mid-morning, when he gets more people in suits, this time awake enough to be polite, and interns, who always seem half-panicked but at least remember to say “thank you.” This is the easy time, when most baristas would relax and take a deep breath as their shift dwindles to an end.

Not Dean, though. Dean stays on high alert all the way until 10:30 when, like clockwork, he walks into the doors of the café. And he might be the reason why Dean is refusing to give up his morning shift, even though he complains constantly, even though he knows Kevin is good enough to open all by himself.

His name is Castiel, but Dean shortened it to Cas on the coffee cup two weeks ago and he hasn’t complained yet. A large cup, that he fills with the medium amount of coffee, adds an unhealthy amount of half-and-half, and fills the gap with whipped cream.

The concoction has two pumps of vanilla syrup, one of hazelnut, and three of caramel. They got pumpkin spice in last week, and he’s been adding two scoops of that in ever since. It’s the same amount of liquid as a drip coffee but entirely espresso shots—although Castiel asks for so much milk in it that Dean’s not sure if the caffeine matters. He finishes it off with a hefty drizzle of strawberry syrup, of all things—and then Castiel coats the top in cinnamon before he heads back out.

It’s a monstrosity. It’s more sugar than coffee. It offends Dean to even call it coffee. And Castiel has ordered it every work day, at 10:30am, like clockwork. For the past month.

He’d hate to be this guy’s dentist.

The first time he’d ordered it had gone badly from the start. Dean had choked a bit as soon as he heard the guy start ordering, in the deepest voice he’d ever heard say the word caramel. He planned to recover, deliver his standard “do you want some coffee with that sugar,” line (because nobody orders something like that at an artisan coffee shop unless they’re prepared to be shamed), but he looked up into eyes so wide and blue and earnest that the snark died in his throat. “Sure, okay,” he’d said instead, and then made the monstrosity to the letter. Castiel had given him a lopsided smile when he handed him the coffee, and tipped it towards him in a ‘cheers’ motion before turning away, and that...that was it for him.

Really, he tells himself, he’s just trying to figure this guy out. He’s not put together enough to be a professional, but he’s too sure of himself to be an intern. He delivers the order, the whole thing in its entirety, in a deep tone that ranges from monotonous, to frazzled, to deeply exhausted. He watches Dean make the drink like the whipped cream is going to jump across the counter and bite him, but he takes the order every time with that same easy smile.

They exchange a total of 73 words a morning, 54 of those being the order itself. And yet, Dean waits, every day. And he’s never been more careful with a strawberry drizzle—because, he tells himself, if he’s attaching his name to it it’s gonna be perfect, even if it’s hideous.

There’s just something about this guy that Dean can’t put his finger on—something buzzing just under his skin, urging him to get to know him better. It doesn’t help that he’s really cute, or that his eyes are blue enough Dean thinks he’d let them see into his soul, or that he’s pretty sure that smile has branded itself into his brain. There’s just something else. Strong enough that, and he’s loathe to admit it, even to himself, Dean is willing to overlook the coffee order.

He has a special cup this morning—he’s already prepared it, put it at the top of the stack so it won’t be suspicious when he pulls it off.

I’ll forgive you for your awful taste in coffee if you call me, it says, a hasty number scribbled underneath and his name below that.

If it works, he’ll learn more about this guy. If it doesn’t, well—Dean figures there’s plenty of places more suited to make the coffee disaster than his shop, anyway. They specialize in artisan beans best served black. The syrup is really for whiney teens, Instagram photos, and, apparently, Castiel.

They do their morning coffee ritual, Dean hands off the customized coffee cup to Cas, and the rest of his shift passes in a hazy blur. He doesn’t get a text back until he’s back in his apartment, already having reconciled never seeing the mystery man again.

He still lunges for his phone the moment it buzzes.

While my brother was flattered by your phone number, he thought it was probably meant for me. -Cas

Dean’s still staring at the first message, trying to decipher it, when another one comes in.

I appreciate you overlooking his awful taste in coffee. For the record, I take mine black.

He grins as it clicks into place, only feeling a little guilty at the flood of relief that accompanies it. He types back a message immediately.

Oh, thank God. Do you want to get some actually decent coffee sometime?

He gets an I’d like that :) back a few minutes later, complete with the smiley face, and he grins down at his phone for several long minutes.

Making the coffee catastrophe every morning might be just be worth it.

#destiel fluff #deancas fluff #destiel one-shot #deancas one-shot #destiel fic #ok no more writing at 2 am for meeeee but i hope u like it nonetheless anon :)#dr. sexy anon!!! i love it!!! im writing urs in the morning!!!#my words #over 1k words

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fatiguing-thoughts · 3 years

Text

“Natural” - Chapter Four - Embry Call x Reader

Baking Cookies

When I awoke in the morning, the spot where Embry’s body laid was empty.

I rolled over onto the pillow he used and immediately was greeted with the scent of him. I smelt the teakwood scent of his shampoo, deodorant, or cologne of sorts.

I smiled to myself, figuring it was after I told him I loved the smell of my new mahogany teakwood candle I bought four years ago. Since that day, he switched over to stuff that smelt that way. My mind raced back to the day in question.

Embry walked into my house, a little earlier than Jake and Quil would arrive.

“Hey Em, what’s up?” I look up from the couch. “Not much.” He smiles at me like a doofus from the doorway.

“Come on Em, sit down.” I pat the spot next to me.

He plops down next to me, my senses invaded with one of my favorite scents. I turn and look at him, sniffing the air surrounding him.

“What’s up, bean?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. Acting completely oblivious.

“Em, you smell so good, that’s my favorite scent.” I move closer to him.

“Oh, is it?” He asks innocently.

“Yeah. Just like my candle, remember?” I look up at his face.

“Oh wow, so now I’m just gonna be a candle to you?” He laughs.

“No, you’ll be my walking air freshener.” I smile, burying myself deeper into his side before the other guys would soon arrive. Ruining my moment with Embry.

Though we weren’t dating back then, nor mentioned any deeper feelings, our physical contact always implied more. Embry always held me like I was a bubble about to burst-- only when we were alone, of course.

I cherished Embry’s touch more than I would’ve liked to admit back then, and I hoped he had felt the same.

I open my eyes, thanking life and whoever was in charge of it for making Embry my soul mate. I never thought I would hear Embry say the words he did, I always thought neither of us would grow the balls to do it.

I stand up, walking over to turn the lights on. I saw a note on my desk out of the corner of my eye.

Good morning bean. Sorry I had to leave. I didn’t wanna tell your dad we were dating by him catching us in your bed and I told my mom I would make breakfast for her today. Text me when you wake up.

Love,

Embry

I smile at the sweet gesture, holding the note to my chest.

I check the time, seeing that it’s only seven in the morning. I figured that since today was my dad’s first day back to work since we moved here that I should make him breakfast and coffee. He wasn’t going to wake up for another half an hour.

I go downstairs and start making pancakes and muffins as I turn the coffee maker on.

About a half an hour later, I hear my dad shifting around upstairs, getting ready for work. He was due to leave at 8:30, so by then everything would be done and warm.

“Hey what’s up kiddo? You’re up early.” I hear from behind me in the kitchen entryway.

“I figured I’d make you breakfast today. First day back at work, ya know.” I smile at him, putting the plate of pancakes down on the table next to the cup of coffee.

“Thank you. I appreciate it, it smells great in here.”

“That’s the chocolate chip muffins.” I say as I begin to take them out of the oven.

We sit and chat, talking about how my day went yesterday.

“So you and Embry, is that finally a thing?” He asks, eyes raising and putting more pancakes in his mouth.

“I mean, kinda.” I smile at my plate.

“Billy, Harry, and I were talking about it. Well we talked about all of you, actually. Apparently Jacob is still chasing Bella like a lost puppy. But we all talked about when you and Embry would finally do something about your whole ‘situation’ you’ve got going there.” He says, waving his finger in a circle as he talked about our ‘situation.’

“Wow, good to know you were all in on this.” I chuckle.

“Listen, we’ve all been waiting for a wedding since you guys were like four.” He laughs, hands up in the air, feigning innocence.

“Very sweet.” I say snarkily.

“Regardless, I’m just happy to see you happy again.” He smiles at me, eyes showing true appreciation and happiness.

“Thank you dad.”

That’s the thing about my dad, he really only cared about my feelings and what was the best for me. He too, was one of my best friends, but the father that he needed to be, too. He really did the whole “dad” thing well. As well as the whole “mom” thing, considering my mother left us when I was four.

The one thing I took from that shitshow was that you can’t force people to love you, or to be in your life. Sometimes I wonder about where she is, or if she misses us. But most of the time, I couldn’t be bothered. My dad raised me better than she ever could have, I have no regrets growing up with solely him. He was the best father I could ask for.

“Oh and one more thing.” He looks up from the paper.

“Yeah?”

“Tell Embry that if he’s trying to be sneaky, that he’s really bad about it.” He sips his coffee.

“What?” I choke on my pancake.

“I’m just saying, I was on the couch when he carried you in last night. I think you were asleep, but I never heard him come back down. He’s not still upstairs, right?” He looks at me, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh god no, dad. I was asleep, yeah. But no he didn’t sleep over. No clue how he left or when because like I said-- dead asleep. He had to drive my car home.” I took a sip of my water.

“Alright. I like him, (Y/N). But, don’t push it. I know you’re an adult now, but just… be careful. And let me have my own sense of peace.” His eyebrows furrowed together, almost cringing at what he was saying.

“Oh god, no dad. Please don’t do this now. Tiffany Call gave me that talk years ago to spare me from this situation exactly. We aren’t doing… that.” I say, uncomfortable talking to my dad about Embry and I’s potential sex life.

“Oh thank god. So you know how that all works, right? You know not to be stupid?” He asks, eyes pleading with mine.

“Yes, dad. Oh god please don’t do this to me. I don’t even know when that would happen, just don’t do this. I’m trying to eat.”

“Great. Good. I’m going to work now, make good choices.” He puts his plate in the sink, kisses my head goodbye, and practically sprints out the door.

“Holy shit.” I mumble to myself, playing with my food on the plate.

I text Embry a good morning and clean up my mess from breakfast.

I see that it’s not even 9:30 yet by the time I’m done and decide to get some more stuff done in my room.

I text in the groupchat that includes Jake, Quil, Embry and I.

“So dorks, what should I bring to the hangout/bonfire tonight?” I text.

“Anything edible, always.” - Quil

“I second that notion.” - Jake

“I mean, I was gonna say just yourself. But I’m down to eat whenever.” -Embry

“Come to my house at 5.” - Jake

“You got it boss.” I reply.

I received a call from Embry, telling me he was going to come over to my house in a few minutes.

I started to get all the ingredients together that it would take for me to make an absurd amount of cookies, not knowing how many people were going to be there. Plus getting a glimpse into how much the guys ate the last few days tells me that I would never have too much.

Within five minutes of Embry’s phone call, there was a knock on my front door.

I open it to see a smiling Embry, warming my heart. I hug him and pull him inside.

“How did you get here so fast?” I ask.

“I ran here, bean. I’m fast ya know. It took me like a minute.” He shrugs as he reaches behind me, grabbing a muffin off the counter, smiling.

“Oh like, in wolf form?” I ask, curiosity dripping off my tongue.

“Yeah, how else? Did you make these? They’re great.” He licks the crumbs off his lips, before bending down and kissing my forehead.

“Yes I did, thank you. That’s crazy, Em. Do you think you could maybe, show me one day?” I look at him with pleading eyes.

“Sure thing, bean.” Another kiss, but this one on the tip of my nose.

“And now you can help me make a disturbing amount of cookies.” I smile, throwing my finger guns in the air.

“I mean, if I must.” He teases, pulling me into him.

We began our baking fiasco. Chaos ensued quickly.

Embry flicked a smidge of flour at me, landing on my face and shirt.

“Em… did you just?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“I may have, may not have.” He looks at me with a questioning face.

I took a bigger pinch, flicking it at him.

“Oh bean, you don’t know what you just started.” He smirked.

“No, Emb-” I was cut off as I was lifted over his shoulder, being spun around.

Our laughter echoed blissfully through the empty house.

“Put me down!” I shout, laughing too hard to breathe, slapping his back in an effort to get him to do as I asked.

“Never.” He laughs.

“Embry, I’m gonna get dizzy.” I giggle.

“Okay, fineeee.”

He places me on the counter, standing in front of me.

I looked deeply into his eyes, my hands finding their home in the hair on the nape of his neck.

His hands held my waist, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Please.” I beg.

He nods before he presses his lips to mine. Those soft, warm lips drove me crazy in the best way-- always leaving me starving for more. His every touch sent tingles up my spine. I slowly traced my tongue over his bottom lip, in which he just pressed his lips a little harder against mine.

“Sorry.” He pulled away breathlessly.

“For what?” I ask.

“I just, I want to take things slow. I promised it to myself, and you. You deserve that respect.”

“I don’t think you making out with me would make me think you don’t respect me.” I laugh.

“I know. I just want it to feel like it’s us, I want to go slow because of the bond. The bond makes it difficult to take things slow, but I want you to know I felt this way well before I imprinted.” He smiles softly.

“I understand, Em. Thank you.” I kiss his cheek.

“I’m so glad it was you. I always thought deep down it would be, but I couldn’t bear it if it wasn’t. I never wanted to hide this from you, and worse off I would never want someone else.”

“I’m so happy it was me, too. I can’t thank my lucky stars enough.” I smile at him.

We sit in each other’s arms for a few moments, until we decide it’s best that we get back to the baking.

Hours later, we had made like 75 sugar cookies. I was drained, and never wanted to see another oven again. But, the cookie dough was always a nice treat to sneak.

“This is enough, right?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s enough to hold us over for five minutes.” He laughs.

“Five minutes?!” I exclaim.

“I’m just kidding… kinda. We all eat a lot. There’s gonna be other stuff there, too. We made more than enough cookies.” He laughs.

We pack them up and watch our favorite cartoons until it’s time to go over to Jake’s.

We pack the cookies in my car and head over.

“So how was breakfast with your mom?” I ask, turning my attention from the road to him for a second.

“It was good. She was happy to see me in the morning, opposed to me running around all hours of the night mysteriously.” He chuckles awkwardly.

“Why not tell her, Em?”

“She doesn’t need that. She’ll worry just as much, if not more. Knowing that this life really entails. She’ll get scared. It’s better to do it this way, believe me. I love her and I hate lying, but it’s better. Then it brings up awkward shit I don’t wanna talk about, this obviously came from my dad’s side. We don’t exactly talk about him, you know.” He looks at me with saddened eyes.

“I think I understand. I’m sorry Em. I’m here for you if you ever need to talk or get out of the house.” I rub small circles in the back of his hand.

“Thank you.” He looks at me with caring eyes.

“Of course. By the way, I made breakfast for my dad, too.” I stifle my laugh, trying to lighten the conversation.

“Oh, how was that?”

“He said you’re not good at being sneaky.” I laughed.

“What?” His face dropped, eyes widening, trying not to laugh. “Well, he said he was on the couch when you brought me in. Then he said that he never heard you leave, asked if you slept over. I told him you didn’t. I saved you, Em.” I smirk at him.

“Oh god, that’s great. Exactly how I wanted to see him again.” He groaned.

“He still loves you. Apparently him, Billy, and Harry were all trying to figure out how long it would take for us to get together. Apparently they all thought we would grow up and end up together.” I laugh.

“I know, my mom did, too. I told her this morning about us, she was really happy to hear about it. She wants to see you again.”

“I can’t wait to see her. Let’s do that this week.” I smile.

We pull up to Jake’s house and enter the small home.

“What’s up losers?” Paul calls from the couch.

“Hey Paul.” I wave from the end of the living room.

“Looking pretty still I see, huh?” He flirts.

I grabbed Embry’s hand as I felt him growing tense next to me.

“Shut up, Paul.” Embry hisses.

Paul raises his hands up in surrender.

“You got it man, I’m just being honest to my old friend.” He smirks.

He knew what he was doing, for sure. Paul used to love to instigate when we were younger. Can’t say I didn’t miss the fun jabs we used to have-- it was never boring with Paul around.

“Enough, Paul.” Billy rolls into the living room.

“Hey Billy.” I smile, walking over to say hello.

“Hey there, kid. I finally got to see your dad yesterday, had a great time. It’s great to have you both back. And how are you, Embry?” Billy looks over to Embry, who is basically velcroed to my back after Paul’s teasing.

“I’m good.” He smiled back.

He nods at Embry before smiling at me and rolling back into his room.

“You gotta chill, Paul. Embry’s gonna get mad now.” Quill laughs.

“I can take him.” Paul scoffs, smiling at Embry and I.

“Jeez, Paul. Ease up a bit. What did you get into today?” I ask, smirking.

“I’m just having fun! Can’t I torture Embry a little bit?” He laughs at me, throwing his arms up.

“Not about this, Paul.” Jacob scolds.

“Okay fine, I won’t make fun of you being whipped anymore.” He smiles.

I thump him in the back of the head after that one.

“Damn, (Y/N). Just as feisty as I remember. I missed having you around, you keep up with the banter well.” He laughs.

“Paul, there’s never a dull moment with you.” I roll my eyes, but he knew what I meant. I did miss his antics just a little bit.

Embry kissed the top of my head before we sat down with everyone. I took the couch and Embry took the spot in front of me.

I looked over to my left and looked at Jake.

“Hey, how did yesterday go?” I ask him, reaching out to grab his shoulder.

“Uh, complicated. But we have a grad party to go to this weekend.” He says, not looking from the TV.

“Complicated? How did it go?” I ask, concerned.

“We got into an argument.” He looks at me, shame spreading upon his face.

“What about?” I furrow my brows.

“Well, I thought we were having a moment. So I thought I should tell her again that he isn’t the only option. That I’m the better option for her. She wouldn’t have to change anything, be anything, she could just be Bella. I wouldn’t constantly put her in harm’s way.” He looks back at the ground.

“What did she say?”

“To stop berating her boyfriend and his family, because ‘I don’t know them’.”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” I empathize.

“Thank you. I just wish she would open her eyes and see what I could give her, I could give her so many things that he can’t.” He looks back at me with sad eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry, Jake. I really am. I don’t think you should sit and wait around for her, though. You need to live life for what’s best for you.”

“I’m not giving up until her heart stops beating.” He looks down at the floor angrily.

“Jake, she’s only like 18. That’s a very long time.” I pat him on the back, concern growing. “No, she wants to become one of them. She wants him to change her.” His jaw clenches, fists forming into tight balls.

“Jake…” I rest my hand on his, calming him slightly.

“(Y/N), I love her so much. I just don’t know how I could ever stop.” His voice cracks, looking back up at me.

“I know, I know. I think everything will work itself out one way or another. Maybe you’ll meet someone, and Bella will be less than a distant memory. You still never imprinted.” I reason.

Quil looks at me, shaking his head no quickly. I give him a confused look.

“If I imprint, if. Even so, I just want to love who I love, not whoever my genetics tell me I should. I want a say in my future. Not everyone gets lucky enough to imprint on their best friend they loved their whole life.” He glances over at Embry, glaring in his direction.

“Jake… Don’t do that. That’s not fair.” I whisper.

He lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

“Think of it this way, you know for certain that she isn’t your soulmate-- you know this isn’t what fate intended. I know you understand what I’m saying, you just don’t accept it. But once you do, you might realize that there’s more to life than Bella. You can still love her as a friend, but there’s something more for you out there than her. You are destined to love someone so intensely, so intense that 99% of people will never be lucky enough to experience it. You’ll have a love so pure it couldn’t even be put into words. You deserve the world, but Bella won’t be giving it to you. You have to support yourself, do things for you. You’ll meet someone along the way who will turn your world upside down, I just know it. I just wish it would be easier for you, sooner.” I smile at Jacob softly at the end of my speech.

Jacob looks at me, tears brimming his eyes. He pulls me into a tight hug, almost crushing me in his arms.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He whispers.

Quil and Embry looked at me, eyes wide and seemingly astonished.

I rub slight circles on Jacob’s back for a moment, showing my support.

“Okay but, when I broke my arm, like actually shattered it, and cried-- you called me a bitch and told me to get over it. I just wanna address that real quick.” Quil breaks the silence, earning a little laugh from all of us.

Jacob chuckles on my shoulder, pulling back.

“Okay, and?” I ask sarcastically.

“I just don’t think I’m getting the same treatment.” Quil scoffs, laughing.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t steal my fruit rollup that day, I wouldn’t have been so upset with you.” I smirked. “I think those might not be of the same magnitude.” Embry defends Quil.

“Hey… whose side are you on?”

Embry raises his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just saying, you’re picking favorites, clearly.” He laughs.

“Oh hush, you know you’re all my best friends. I love you all.” I smile, rubbing a circle onto the back of Embry’s hand.

“Yes, we love you, too. Even if you’re kind of a bully. But that’s fine.” Quil shrugs, smiling to himself.

We all laugh a bit before sitting down in silence for a moment.

“So, this party…” I trail off.

“You can come.” He slightly smiles.

“Cool. I wanna meet the people, faces to names, ya know?” I admit.

“You’re meeting leeches, nothing too special.” Paul scoffs.

“Well, they won’t hurt me. I just wanna go with you guys, give Bella her gift, and then see all these vampires. I wanna see what they look like.” I admit.

“Freaky eyes. Though, they’re not as freaky as the red ones.” Quil interjects.

“Interesting. Well hopefully the party is fun.” I shrug.

I felt Embry tense up between my legs.

“Do you really want to go?” He asks, looking back at me.

“Yeah, kinda. Especially if you guys are going. I wanna see who Bella spends her time with, you guys don’t seem very fond. I wanna see why.” I scratch the top of his head, getting another whiff of that teakwood scent.

“I mean, we could stay home if you don’t feel safe.” He offers.

“Em, I think I’ll be okay. You’re all there, I don’t feel unsafe.” I tell him, trying to comfort him.

“Embry, she’ll be fine. She just got back, let her go to a party and have some fun.” Quil huffs.

Embry looks back at me with pleading eyes.

“Embry, I’ll be okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to me. Besides, I wanna see what happened to everyone I went to high school with.” I smile at him, leaning down to leave a kiss on his forehead.

“Okay, just please don’t stray too far from me there.” He pleads.

“Em, I won’t be letting go of you all night.” I smile.

“Yuck!” Quil throws a couch pillow at me.

“Rude.” I huff, chucking it right back.

“It’s almost time to go to the beach. I don’t wanna miss the food.” Paul says looking at the time.

“Oh we are not missing the food.” Embry says confidently.

“I’d never let such a thing happen.” Quil confirms.

“So let’s get going before Jared ruins it for all of us.” Jake smirks from the couch.

We all get up to leave when Jacob turns to me.

“Thank you.” He mouths, hugging me once more.

He pulled away and I saw Embry begin to look a little pouty.

I walk over to Embry, stand up on my tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek as I grabbed his hand.

He looks down at me, smiling like a goofball, returning the smile was as easy as breathing.

We all walk out and pile into my car to head over to the beach.

“Ooh, cookies!” I hear Quil and Paul exclaim from the back seat, I hear the container shifting.

“No!” I turn around shouting.

Quil and Paul look like they had just seen a ghost.

“She wanted to bring them to the bonfire.” Embry chuckles.

The car ride filled once again with Embry playing music, talking to Quil and Paul. I noticed that Jake was still quiet, poor guy.

I park the car and turn it off.

“We’re here.” Embry says, getting out of the car and running to my side to open my door.

“Bean.” He says, notioning for me to get out of the car.

“Thanks, Em.” I smile.

He places his hand on my lower back, driving me mad with excitement.

“Give me those cookies.” I point at Paul.

“Alright, boss.” He laughs, handing the cookies over to me.

We begin the walk down to where the bonfire was being set up and I see many people there, causing my nerves to rack and my heart to race.

Embry stops in his tracks, bending down to look me in the eyes, hands falling to the sides of my arms.

“It’s okay, they’re all gonna love you, you’re great. You’ve met them all before, things will go great. You even brought cookies. Try to relax, bean.” He gives me a comforting smile.

“Thank you, Em.” I smile.

“Of course. We gotta catch up with the rest of them, now. Let’s go.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead once more, before grabbing my hand and leading the way over to everyone.

“Hey everyone. (Y/N)’s back. She even brought cookies.” He announces.

“Hey, thanks for having me.” I wave, smiling.

___________________________

Word Count: 4269

I II III IV V VI VII VIII VIIII X XIR XIE XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIIII

#embry call #embry call x reader #embry call fanfiction #embry call imagine #jacob black #Quil Ateara #Jared Cameron #paul lahote #sam uley #leah clearwater #seth clearwater #brady fuller #collin littlesea #wolf pack #wolf pack x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight x reader

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mirrerover · 3 years

Text

High on the Fumes

“Straying a bit far from the nest, Dickiebird,” Jason says. He’s got one hand shoving his mask back up into his hood, revealing just his mouth and the sharp line of his jaw, while the other digs in the pocket of his leather jacket, fishing for cigarettes. A beaten-up carton gets waved in Dick’s general direction, offering a cigarette Dick never accepts. Not like this. Not in the Nightwing suit, at least.

They’re currently overlooking Crime Alley, seated on the edge of the roof, legs dangling off the side. Jason hadn’t seemed surprised when Dick had dropped down next to him on the ledge. But Red Hood wouldn’t be Red Hood if Jason didn’t know the coming and goings of the various vigilantes creeping on Gotham's rooftops at night.

“Ran out of bad guys my side of the pond,” Dick says in the easy way he says lots of things. The patented Grayson charm. “What can I say—I’m just that good.”

That actually pulls a laugh out of Jason. A genuine one. One that has his mouth stretched apart in a smile that makes Dick think beautiful.

“No criminals in Blüdhaven. I knew moonlighting as a police officer would be bad for you. Six months on the job and they’ve already got you on their payroll.”

“Thought you’d be proud of me for lasting as long as I did.”

“Sure thing, Princess.” There’s a fancy Zippo in his hand now, one Dick has never seen before, lighting the first cigarette of plenty to come. Dick wonders if Jason lifted it off some crook he left for dead. “You probably broke some departmental records. Most Blüdhaven cops are on the take before they’ve even stepped off Academy grounds.”

Dick chuckles the way you chuckle when watching your own house burn down to ashes, all your mortal possessions still inside. Blüdhaven is a corrupt cesspool with no fast and easy fix. Maybe not even a slow and difficult one—and she’s all Dick's. He stuffs the thought somewhere deep and hidden and eagerly shifts his eyes to Jason so he can forget. Just for a while.

It’s hard to read Jason’s face, hidden in the shadows of his hood, but the body language is clear; no apparent stiffness or major sore spots. Jason looks relaxed, if not a little tired, fingers nimble when they lift the cigarette to his lips. So the bloodstains aren’t his own.

“Slow night?”

Jason shrugs. “Petty criminals, mostly.” His lips tighten into a harsh line. “Some creep who thought he could set up shop and play pimp. Fuck that. My girls work for themselves.”

His girls. And that, Dick thinks, is the difference between Bruce and Jason. Bruce has his villains, his meta humans, and when that well runs dry there’s the League. A galaxy full of nemeses for him to fight. Big players and even bigger stakes. Abstract concepts of freedom and peace, and the liberty of dealing in absolutes. Jason has his people. The concrete reality of kids not being cornered by predators and sex workers keeping money in their own pockets. And his people love him. Prefer the Red Hood taking an iron pipe to the face of their abusive ex-husband, their kid’s drug dealer, or the rapist next-door, to the untouchable Bat Symbol high up in the sky.

Maybe Dick’s been staring too hard or maybe Jason can tell he’s thinking of Bruce because the next time he speaks, he’s extra crass: “I need a cock so far up my ass I’ll be seeing stars, a good meal, and a shower with better water pressure than the usual geriatric-taking-their-midnight-piss nonsense that’s rife this side of the city.” He sucks long and hard on the cigarette, posture thoughtful, before releasing the smoke in a slow exhale. “Not necessarily in that order.”

Dick snorts. Maybe there’s more than just the one big difference. “That really something you wanna yell off the rooftops? Thought you were some big bad crime lord.”

“The fuck's that s'posed to mean, Big Bird?” Some might assume that toting around eight severed heads in a duffle bag once would make it hard to take the moral high ground on anything. Dick knows for a fact that Jason doesn’t really give a shit about either morals or the high ground but it doesn’t stop him from taking both and making them his bitch. “Think I’m weak for taking it up the ass? How ‘bout you dial back on the homophobia, you bigoted prick.”

It might be more impressive if Dick was a little less familiar with Jason and his rage. Jason doesn’t settle his actual grievances with his words. This is foreplay.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Little Wing. Got the best thighs this side of the equator. Ain’t nobody calling you weak, babe.”

“Don’t you forget it, asshole.”

Dick hums, lowering himself onto his back, arms stretched high above his head. There’s a weird serenity to being verbally abused by Jason as the Eastern sky is starting to brighten. The sound from the street feels distant and Jason feels so close, their thighs mere inches apart. When Dick lets his head rest on his arm, Jason’s broad shoulders fill up half his vision and he knows if he buries his nose between his shoulder blades it’ll smell of leather and smoke and sweat.

Jason twists his torso towards him. “Were you even listening, Fingerstripes? Just told you I want a cock up my ass before the night is through. Need me to grab a pen and a piece of paper and spell it out for you?” Jason gives a depreciating grunt. “And Daddy dares to say that you’re the smart one.”

“Jesus, Hood,” Dick teases. “Can’t tell if you’re trying to go for seductive or insulting.”

“Shows how shit your instincts are. I’m doing both. You turned on yet?”

Dick shrugs good-naturedly, arches his back and gives Jason the Grayson smile, blinding, crooked, winning. “Little bit.”

There’s another laugh, another smile. Another beautiful in Dick’s head. Then Jason’s lying down beside him, shoulders brushing, and voice bleeding a warm: “thought you would be, you big slut.”

When Jason finishes his cigarette he kills what’s left of it on the concrete. Wordlessly lights another. The new Zippo burns big and bright.

Dick lowers one arm, carefully drags his fingers across the busted knuckles of the hand holding the lighter. Sometimes, those hands will leave red streaks on Dick’s skin and Dick won’t know if the person it came from is still a person at all. And he thinks Jason painting him with blood should probably bother him more than it does. But it’s hard sometimes, between the night job and the day job and the things he sees during both. Between Bruce, who puts principles before people, and Jason, who puts people before Bruce, is Dick, who doesn’t want to choose between either, who wants to have both—but let’s Jason mark him up with the blood from Gotham’s criminals, anyway. So, maybe he’s made his choice.

"Make me a coffee tomorrow morning," Dick says, Jason's hand warm beneath his own. "With those fancy beans. From that specialty shop where they roast and grind the beans on the spot and you watch them like a hawk 'cause you're both anal and a snob."

"Just the coffee?"

"Just the coffee."

"You're one cheap fucking lay, Boy Blunder."

“Only for you,” Dick says. "The Bat family discount.” Dick wonders if there’s a little something special in those cigarettes when that doesn’t get him punted off the roof immediately. The vicious elbow stab to the gut seems rather mellow.

“Asshole,” Jason murmurs under his breath. The vitriol dripping off that single word makes Dick honest-to-God giggle, chest feeling light like flying.

He thinks they’ll stay here a little longer. Maybe one or two more cigarettes—all Jason. Dick will smoke after. After the sex, and the shower and the sleeping and the coffee. Long after the morning is gone. When Dick has been stripped of his suit for hours and Jason the same for his mask and guns. Then Dick will sit naked in the afternoon sun on Jason’s windowsill, grab that Zippo and smoke.

One cigarette. Just then.

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

@wethatake I wrote a thing. Can you believe it? I sure can’t

#jaydick #jaydick fanfic #jason Todd #Dick Grayson #mirre writes

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animatorweirdo · 3 years

Text

Frozen heart: Music in the dark

You fall into middle-earth with your best friend and start a new life.

Warning: Swearing and scary themes.

This chapter is a bit long but it might be interesting to read.

"Run! Run! Run!" You yelled.

The ghouls screeched behind you and your friend. You two ran like crazy through the forest. The ghouls jumped from tree to tree as they pursued you two. You could hear their haunting screaming above the ground. You could also hear them from far away on the ground too. They were trying to surround you two.

You and your friend hopped over a fallen log. One of the ghouls managed to jump at you. You quickly pulled your friend over the log. The ghoul crashed into the log, breaking it in half. The ghoul would have gotten your friend if you didn't pull her away. You two didn't waste time and quickly ran away. Another ghoul appeared in front of you, blocking your way. You two screamed and ran in another direction. The ghouls were literally everywhere. You started to doubt that you two will escape alive.

"Jump!" Your friend pulled you with her and you two, then stumbled down a rocky hill. You grunted and gasped as your body rolled down the hill. Rocks and sticks under the snow hitting you and scraping your skin. You two finally managed to get to the down of the hill. The violent spinning stopped. You laid on the snowy ground, breathing heavily. Everything was stinging.

"Camilla!" You called for your friend. She appeared in front of your line of vision and quickly helped you up. You groaned when your ribs started to ache. There was a chance of broken ribs. You ignored your pain and checked if Camilla had injuries. "Come on; we need to keep moving," She said, pulling you gently. You heard hollow screaming in the distance. They were coming. You two quickly moved, and to your surprise, you two managed to find a cliff and a waterfall. There was a long drop over the cliff. The place was pretty sweet, but there was literally nowhere to go to. You two were trapped. "Are you freaking kidding me?!" Camilla yelled.

You two gasped when something dropped behind you. You two turned around and were faced with a giant ghoul. It was bigger than the other ones, and it had blood-red eyes than rotten yellow. You smelled a foul smell of death. The ghoul growled at you two, licking its sharp teeth. It was ready to devour you two. You looked around in panic. There were no more escape routes, except the waterfall if you jumped, and hope the fall won't kill you. There was a tiny chance that you two will survive, but it was better than getting eaten by a giant blood-thirsty monster.

"Hey, this might get us killed, but would you rather be food than jump off a cliff?" You asked. "Are you crazy?" Camilla asked. "Maybe, but there is a tiny chance of survival," You said. Camilla stared at you like you grew another head. She turned her attention back to the giant ghoul. It started approaching you two with hunger in its eyes. She glanced at the cliff, then at the ghoul. "Fuck it!" She yelled. She grabbed your arm and jumped over the cliff with you. You two screamed as you fell toward the bottom. You fell through a cold mist before being engulfed by cold water. You screamed from the shock the cold water gave you. Your screams were muffled by the water, and the air in your lungs turned into bubbles. It was so cold. It was like thousands of cold needles were stabbing you from every corner.

Someone suddenly grabbed your jacket and pulled you up. You gasped as you burst through the surface. The cold air struck you like a brick. Camilla pulled you out of the deep water. You stood up after your foot hit the bottom. You hugged Camilla's arm as your legs felt like jello. "Fuck, it's cold," Your teeth clattered. You turned toward Camilla. "Are you okay?" You asked. She was shaking as well. You both were dripping wet from the cold water. "Uhm... look over there," Camilla suddenly pointed out. You followed her gaze, confused, then froze when you saw people. They were wearing strange medieval clothes and were staring at you two with shocked and frightful expressions. Why were they wearing medieval clothes? You then noticed a slight change in the environment. The waterfall was gone, and it was morning. If you recalled correctly. It was still nighttime before you two jumped over the cliff. You also didn't hear the ghouls anymore. Where in the hell you two ended up to?

"Camilla... where the fuck are we?" You asked.

And that's how you two came to this world. Middle-earth, the land of humans, dwarves, elves, and orcs. There are even people called Valars and Maiars, who are like gods of this world. You and Camilla were completely dumbstruck when you heard that from the village people you met at the lake. However, you two needed to do a lot of convincing to make them believe that you were not the dark lord's servants. This dark lord guy, Morgoth was a big deal and something to be afraid of. You and Camilla, however, didn't think about it much and started traveling in this new world. It was fairly exciting, but sometimes you two got really homesick, which led you two to settle down in a nice village near the mountains of Himring and the place called Maglor's Gap. Weird names, but this was another world, so it made sense.

"Cami! I'm home!" You came through the door. The door slamming against the wall with a loud sound after you kicked it. "Can you like not break the damm door?!"Camilla yelled from the table. She had a bowl in her hands, and there was an open book on the table. You frowned in curiosity after you smelled a mild scent of coffee. "Are you still trying to make coffee out of those beans?" You asked, walking over to the table. "So what?" She asked back. "You don't know how to make coffee, and those beans aren't really coffee beans," You pointed at the bowl of green beans. "Well! It's better than nothing," Camilla continued what she was doing. You shook your head then approached the kitchen cabinets. Camilla and her caffeine addiction. It's been five months since you two came here, and she started to miss her morning coffees desperately. After you two moved into this village, she has been trying to come up with a recipe to make coffee out of the beans that closely resembled the brown coffee beans. She has tried at least five times, and every time it failed. You two ended up drinking something worse than expired milk.

You opened the cabinet, then saw something very bad. You two were out of food. Again. "Cami! There's nothing to eat!" You turned toward your best friend. "What?" She turned toward you then saw the inside of the cabinet. She groaned, knowing what an empty cabinet meant. "For fuck sake," She stated.

You two walked through the thick forest, holding baskets. It was spring, so finding food was easy since you two mostly fed of from berries and mushrooms. You two occasionally buy food from the village, but money was difficult to get in this world. Technically, you two were broke, really broke. You two sometimes do volunteer works to earn some money, but the money was not enough to feed both of you, so it was off into the forest every time the cabinet was empty. Berries and mushrooms were free.

You crouched down to pick up a batch of brown ceps. Too bad you disliked mushrooms, but it was literally one of the only things you can eat. You fell on your knees after they grew tired of crouching down too long. "You know something, a supermarket would be a really cool place right now," You said and stared at the sky. "I know, too bad credit cards are completely useless around here," Camilla answered. She sighed and stretched her legs. "We could have at least fall into a world where we can at least use our world's currency," She explained. "This world sucks. I wanna go home," You stated. Your thoughts ran back to the memory you saw the giant ghoul for the last time. You actually didn't mind getting eaten by a ghoul right now. Sounds a lot better than walking around in this world, eating berries and mushrooms. "Okay, come on, the cabinet is not gonna fill itself. We need to be back before the nightfall," Camilla stated. You mentally whined. You really didn't want to go through a forest. You wanted to go back to the house and take a nap.

After three hours of suffering and looking through a stupid forest. You two managed to fill your baskets with delicious berries and edible mushrooms. You two were currently in a large meadow. You took a big yawn and looked around the meadow. You stood under a large tree. It gave perfectly shaded from the sun. You set your basket down then sat down, leaning against the tree. "(Name)! I'm gonna go back to the village to buy some meat!" Camilla called. "Okay, I'm gonna stay here and relax a bit," You answered. "Okay, but come back before the sunset or I make dinner for myself!" She called. "Alright!" You answered. You then saw her pick up her basket and disappeared into the forest you two came from. You took a deep sigh and leaned against the tree. You then glanced at the scenery you saw in the distance. Mountains, wide-open land, and forest. It felt so same and unknown at the same time. You didn't really know what to think about it. You and Camilla encountered many types of people. You once met dwarves and that was an exciting experience. Dwarves were quite friendly folk, despite what things have been said about them. Elves and orcs were the only ones you two haven't seen. Elves could be nice to meet, but maybe not orcs. They are said to be the dark lord's servants and the most violent creatures on the earth. It's for the best that you two won't even think about them. You got more serious things to worry about, like getting some decent food on the table.

Your head laid against the bark of the tree. You yawned, and your eyes started drooping. It was peaceful. You don't even remember the last time you found peace. Your eyelids started to close slowly and it was hard to keep them open. Maybe a little nap won't hurt. You were about to close your eyes, but then you remembered something that motivated your eyes to stay open. You never slept well because of the nightmares. Every time you go to sleep, nightmares always bother you, making you wake up in the middle of the night. You were technically an insomniac. That's why you are always tired. You stared into nothingness as you tried to keep your eyes open, but they wanted to close so badly. You yawned. It's been ages since you had a good sleep. The whole thing almost sounds foreign to you,

Birds singing caught your ears. The song of the birds made the situation worse. Your eyes were harder to keep open. A yawn broke out of your mouth. Maybe a short nap won't bother. There was a tiny chance that you will catch a nightmare in such a short time.

You wake up to a sudden sound of a gust of cold wind. Your heart started beating up after you noticed there was snow everywhere. You stood up in a panic. What happened? Why it was winter out of a sudden? You looked up to the sky and saw that it was dark. You weren't sure if it was a night. The moon and the stars were missing. It was just pitch-black darkness. You gasped when you heard a deep rumbling sound from the forest. You stared at the forest where the sound came from. No, it coulnd't be. You backed away with a beating heart. You almost fell on the ground from the startle when you heard the same sound behind you. Your whole body started to shake from a familiar feeling of fear. You stared at the forest in front of you. There was nothing but darkness, but you knew. You knew what lurked in there. Stalking you. Ready to devour your whole existence.

You backed away, not breaking eye contact with the dark forest. Your back hit against the tree. Burning tears started to come out of your eyes. "Please... don't..." You fell against the tree. A familiar feeling touched your bare hands. You saw frost covering your hands under its white layer. Heavy breaths escaped your mouth. The warm air turning into a visible mist from every breath you took. You hugged yourself to protect the last bits of warmth you had. "Go away, Go away..." You begged. The tears running freely across your cheeks. You heard heavy steps coming toward you, but you didn't dare to look up to see what it was. You knew what it was, and you didn't want to look into its eyes. "Go away, please..." You were whimpering at this point.

The silence and the wind were replaced with gentle and beautiful music. You stopped shaking as the fear you felt disappeared. The beautiful music was accompanied by soft humming. Was somebody... singing? Everything suddenly became dark.

You opened your eyes and stared at the green grass in front of you. It was warm, and there was no snow. The sky was blue, and the birds flew across it with freedom. You looked at the forest. There was nothing. You dried up the tears that managed to dry up against your skin. It was just another nightmare. You almost laughed for even thinking a short nap would spare you from nightmares.

Your attention was caught by familiar music you heard in your nightmare. You looked around the tree and saw a person playing harp. The person was obviously a male, telling from the deepness of his voice. He was quite tall and had long dark hair covering his back. What really caught your attention was his ears. They were pointy. Was he an elf?

You stood quiet and listened to his music. He was a pretty good musician. The dreadful feeling of fear you felt before was gone. You felt calm and relaxed like there was nothing to be afraid of. His humming was also very calming. You can only imagine what his voice sounded like. You were gonna take a bet that his voice was angel-like.

The music ended shortly, and the silence took over the meadow. The birds started singing, and the crickets went on with their business. You almost didn't notice how quiet it was when the elf stopped playing. It was like animals stood quiet for him to play his harp. You heard the elves had a special bond with nature, but this was the first time you got to witness that happen. The silence between you and him started to bug you. You were still literally staring at him while he didn't even know you were there. To avoid future awkwardness, it's better to say something now than nothing.

"Nice song," You said.

You almost crapped yourself when he suddenly snapped his attention toward you. His eyes were steel grey and almost sent shivers to your spine from their coldness. He was quite handsome, though, but you still better be careful with your words. He looked like he was having a bad day. "Who are you?" He demanded. Bingo, he had a great voice. You quickly regained yourself. "Sorry if I scared you, but in my defense, I was already here taking a nap before you started playing," You explained. He stared at you for a moment like he was trying to figure out if you were lying. You shifted uncomfortably, wanting to look away from his intense stare. Oh no, you managed to make this awkward, didn't you?

His expression became softer after he saw your basket and not any traces of suspicion. "I see. I apologize for my attitude. I'm having kind of a bad day," He explained. Hah, you knew it. "No worries, not every day is a good day," You said. He chuckled, which sounded like a scoff. "Unless every day is a bad day," He muttered under his breath. You frowned when you heard that. He was probably having more than just a bad day. You could offer some comfort, but you didn't know him at all, so it's better to stay out of his personal business. Silence took over the atmosphere for a while.

"So... do you live around here? I heard you don't meet elves around these parts often," You asked. He looked at you, then chuckled. "Bold words from someone who lives in elven lands," He said with an amused tone. Was he making fun out of you? "Hey! I recently moved to a village around here. I haven't gotten time to learn anything," You defended yourself. "Oh really?" He questioned with a challenging look. "Yes," You answered. He stared at you for a moment before chuckling with a tiny smile. You crossed your arms and smiled along. His mood seemed to turn positive, which was a good sign.

"What's your name?" You asked, wanting to know. "How about you tell me your name first since I was the first one to ask," He said back. You rolled your eyes. "Okay. My name is (Name). May I ask what's your name?" You answered. He chuckled. "I don't think you want to know," He said. "And why is that?" You asked. This intrigues your curiosity. "Because when I tell my name, people tend to avoid having anything to do with me," He explained. That sounded a bit dark. Telling from the tone of his voice.

"Try me," You said. He glanced at you curiously. You got guts. "My name is Maglor from the house of Feanor," He waited for your reaction. "Cool," You casually said. Okay, not what he was expecting. He stared at you curiously.

You glanced at the sky and saw the sun descending on the horizon. "I need to go," You got up then picked up your basket. "I need to be back at home before my friend starts making dinner without me," You explained. "See you around, Maglor from the house of Feanor," You waved your goodbye then walked into the forest. Maglor watched as your figure disappeared into the forest. You were... interesting for a human. He glanced at the sunset, then sighed. He got up, holding his harp against his chest. He better go back too. He glanced at the forest you disappeared into. There was a very tiny chance you two would meet again, but for some reason, he had a tingle of hope that you would meet again. He was not sure why. Maybe because he had a normal conversation with someone that didn't include the drama of his family and the damn oath. He started to walk back to his brother's fortress. The sun finally settled down, making room for the moon and allowing Varda's starts to give light to the middle-earth.

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let-me-love-you-loki · 3 years

Text

Welcome to Oblivion-Ch. 35

Chapter 35

The super amazing Valentine’s Day plan turned out to be tacos drowning in queso from the local Mexican place and a marathon of John Hughes movies on Netflix. Dean blushed brightly as he confessed that it had been his job to get reservations for dinner and he’d forgotten because of a fight and his advanced engine mechanics exam. I just smiled and kissed his cheek as I passed by to grab my third taco. Roman chuckled from his place on the sofa, his feet propped up on the table next to a bouquet of pink, white, and red roses. They were sticking out of an empty spaghetti jar, but they were beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said again as he plopped into place next to me. “I promise we had something really nice planned, princess.”

“Stop apologizing,” I replied, bumping my shoulder with his. “This is amazing. I’ve never been one of those kinds of girls anyway. Plus, Ortiz makes the best tacos for a hundred miles.”

Roman draped his arm around my shoulders and grinned. “While you might not be the kind of girl that likes that stuff, you deserve it. You know… getting showered with all kinds of amazing things. I mean… you do have two boyfriends.”

My heart skipped a beat and a sensation of warmth and happiness bled through my body. It was more than just being caught up between the two of them on the sofa, their bulk radiating heat and the sweet scent of their cologne. Being with them made me feel at home in a way that I never had before. They made me feel like myself… the best version of myself.

“I have two of the best boyfriends,” I said, tucking my feet up beneath me. “Who buy me tacos and watch sappy 80’s movies with me. There’s only one thing that would make this the most amazing Valentine’s Day ever.”

Dean chuckled low in his throat. “And what’s that?”

Before I could say anything, the apartment door burst open and Seth slipped inside. Rain settled on his shoulders and the beanie covering his dark hair. He cradled a white cardboard box in his hand. “Sorry, I know,” he said sadly. “I’ll stay in my room and not bother you guys. I picked up a cake from Maddie’s downtown. Red velvet with chocolate icing.”

Seth slipped out of his jacket and tossed it over the back of one of the mismatched chairs by the kitchen table. He sat the cake on the counter and passed by with a worn, unhappy sort of smile. His eyes were dark and forlorn. The sound of his door felt like a heavy blow.

The Breakfast Club played in the background, Judd Nelson going on about his horrible home life. Somehow, the mood in the room changed. Dean turned sideways, his fingertips tracing gently along the side of my face. He tucked stray hair behind my ear.

“I see that look,” he whispered.

“What look?” I queried, trying to look normal as I stuffed half a taco into my mouth.

Roman’s hand curled around mine. His thumb rubbed slow circles along the back of my hand. “That endearing worried look. I’ve seen you look at Drew and Sonya that way. It bothers you that Seth is upset.”

My heart fell into my stomach. I had a horrible sinking feeling in my guts. It was sour and bitter all at once. For some reason, the sensation felt familiar.

“Maybe it does,” I replied at last. “I’ll check on him in the morning.”

Dean pressed a kiss against my temple. Roman settled his chin on my shoulder. “Go ahead,” he whispered against my ear. “I know what he means to you, baby girl.”

I closed my eyes, scrunching them shut as that sick, sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I pressed my lips together. Fought back vomit as it clawed up my throat. “No,” I murmured, suddenly desperately exhausted.

Dean trailed his fingertips along my jaw to the point of my chin. “Go on, princess. It’s okay.”

I couldn’t make sense of how the two of them could read me so easily. My heart squeezed in my chest. I wanted to be sick, I wanted to cry, I wanted to shout and whisper and wail at how much I didn’t deserve them. There was something wrong with me. Something so desperately, deeply, undeniably wrong.

I smiled faintly at Roman and Dean, lucky to have the two of them. They understood me so well, even when I didn’t deserve it. I kissed Dean’s cheek and squeezed Roman’s hand as I passed by. Faint light filtered out from beneath Seth’s bedroom door. Time seemed to move slowly as I rested my forehead against the wood and knocked.

“Damn it, I know, okay,” Seth swore as he thumped around in his room. His footsteps were heavy as he stomped to the door, yanking it open so fast that I very nearly fell over. “I’m leaving. Just give me a sec—”

His brown doe eyes went wide. Clearly, he hadn’t expected me to be there. My heart skipped sideways, and I couldn’t explain why. Something danced over his face, lighting up his expression, but it flitted away before I could make sense of it. “What are you doing here?”

I leaned against the doorframe. He smelled like coffee beans and vanilla. The scent hurtled memories before my mind’s eye. The two of us sprawled in the floor of the living room, notes and books strewn over the table, plates scraped clean of Dean’s famous breakfast sandwiches mixed in with fast food containers and a cascade of coffee cups stacked everywhere. Standing in the hallway before our lecture began, leaning against the wall and arguing about music and bad sci-fi movies.

Something tugged in the space behind my ribs. For a moment, I lost my breath entirely.

“You looked upset,” I whispered. I had the strangest urge to hug him—to hold him and protect him from everything. “What’s wrong?”

The corners of his mouth tipped upward in a poor imitation of a smile. “Stop worrying about me, Addy. Go spend your Valentine’s Day with Dean and Ro.”

I blinked, trying to stop tears that appeared out of nowhere. I couldn’t understand why I was crying in the first place. “Don’t do that,” I gasped, robbed entirely of breath. “Don’t act like you don’t care.”

Seth backed up a step, looking at me as if he’d never seen me before. His fingers twitched at his side like he wanted to reach out but was restraining himself. “Don’t care about what exactly?

My throat closed. I felt like screaming. Like beating my fists against his chest until he admitted it. I couldn’t entirely figure out what I wanted him to admit, but the irrationally emotional side of me didn’t care.

“You’re unhappy. You’re hurt. My God, Seth, you’re here on Valentine’s Day when you should be with… Oh…” The flash of anger melted in an instant. His eyes lost focus. “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he mumbled, propping himself up on the door. He was close, the scent of him stronger than before. “She had a very good reason for breaking up with me.”

The urge to hold him rushed back at me. I had to restrain myself. I crossed my arms over my chest instead. “And what was it exactly?” I heard the hesitation, the hitch in my voice, and hated myself for it.

That look appeared in his eyes again—making him look impossibly dark and fathomless. He closed his eyes, swallowed hard, clenched his fists at his sides. It was as if he were fighting a battle with himself—one that he was clearly losing.

With a sigh, he met my gaze. “It’s hard to be in a relationship with someone who’s in love with someone else. Even if it’s someone they can’t ever have.”

He looked… broken. There was no other word for it. I hated it. Myself for putting him in this position. For ruining him… for ruining whatever friendship we had. How could I do this? How could I keep doing this?

The tears dripped hot and molten down my cheeks. I swiped them away frustratedly. Seth was in pain, and it wasn’t fair for me to break down in front of him. Not like this. I sucked in a deep breath and nodded furiously.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry, Seth. Becky doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

I turned on my heel and walked away, holding my shoulders as steady as possible. I wanted… I didn’t know what I wanted. Everything about me—about this entire situation—was wrong. Damaged. Ugly and desperately, completely twisted. Sick.

The overwhelming urge to curl up with Roman and Dean nearly knocked me to my knees. And yet… I wanted them to hate me. To look at me and see that I wasn’t worthy of them and their hearts. That I was a selfish girl who wanted everything and then more and more. They were good and kind and deserved far better than whatever I was.

Simple Minds hummed from the television as I practically stumbled into the living room. Dean sat sideways, watching the hallway and chewing on the edge of his thumb. Roman leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, a deep furrow in his brow. They both looked up when I stepped into the room, nearly stumbling over my own feet.

“Addy,” Roman queried as he practically crossed the room in two steps. He wrapped me in my arms, catching me as I stumbled and fell against his chest. For a brief moment, I thought I’d passed out.

In the next moment, I was curled in his lap on the sofa, Dean scooting closer. His worn fingers cradled the back of my head as he stroked the back of my neck with his thumb. Roman swept his fingers along my cheeks, wiping away the tears that still burned along my face. I ached in a way that I couldn’t explain. I hurt in a way that was more than I had the right to. It was a heartbreak that I hadn’t earned.

“What happened, baby girl?” Roman murmured, his hand curling gently along my throat. “Did he say something?”

Dean smiled against my shoulder. “Did he finally tell you the truth?”

“The truth about what?” I whimpered, wanting to curl into a ball. It felt like a hole had been punched straight through my chest. “I thought he was my friend. I thought…”

Roman kissed me gently, barely a brush of his lips against mine. “He is, Addy. He cares for you more than you could imagine.”

Dean’s voice ran over me like water. He pressed his mouth against the curve of my throat. “He’s like me, princess. He’s just too scared to say it.”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it

@vebner37

@lilred91

@not-that-kinda-gurl08

@maelleoute

@missjenniferb

@librathepheonix13

#welcome to oblivion #roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #dean ambrose #dean ambrose fanfiction #seth rollins #seth rollins fanfiction #the shield #the shield fanfiction #wwe #wwe fanfiction #shield!Au #College!AU #College!Shield #multi-chapter

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visionsofus · 3 years

Note

Hey, my city has just been put into lockdown :( so I thought I might send a prompt... maybe something about some of the times Vision phases through Wandas wall? Idk but I hope you're well and I love your writing :)

hello! I am so sorry to hear that your city has been put into lockdown! I hope you are staying safe and looking after yourself. I bumped this to the top of my list so I could get you something nice to read quickly. It's mainly about Vision comforting Wanda but I hope it brings you some comfort too!

Mixtape track # 28: Time After Time cover by Theresa Sokyrka, Jesse Brown

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick and think of you

synopsis: Three times Vision phased into Wanda's room unannounced and found her in varying states of disarray/ injury. Aka a fluffy comfort fic for those of you who need it.

Warnings: mentions of blood and stitches, illness (flu), mild swearing

Vision was sitting at the kitchen counter, a novel before him when Steve hurried into the kitchen and began rooting through cabinets. Vision placed a finger to mark his page and glanced up in confusion.

“Is there something you need help with, Captain?” He asked, curious at Steve’s haste. The captain jumped visibly, and Vision looked down sheepishly. The team was yet to grow accustomed to his presence in the Compound and he was still learning to be something like human. It was a slow process.

“Vision,” Steve said, a hand pressed to his chest in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Vision nodded. “What are you looking for?”

“Cold and flu medicine,” Steve replied, turning back to the cabinets and pushing aside two different bags of coffee beans and a pot of sugar. His hand scraped around the back of the shelf to no avail. “I know we had some here somewhere.”

Vision tilted his head curiously. There weren’t many at the compound who could fall ill, Steve and himself included. Tony was away with Rhodey in New York for the weekend, Clint was with his family, and from what Vision knew of Natasha, she didn’t seem the kind of person to accept medicine.

That only left one other person in the enormous building he now called home.

“Is Wanda okay?” Vision asked his voice sound slightly strained, even to his own ears. He hadn’t quite mastered control over tone yet but was getting better at identifying such markers in other’s speech.

“She’s okay,” Steve mulled as he moved things around, moving to another cupboard. Vision heard the concern in his voice. Forgetting his page, he shut his book all thoughts now directed to Wanda. Where could she have contracted an illness? Perhaps it was overworking, of all of them, Wanda pushed herself the hardest. The last few weeks had been particularly rough with training every day, minor missions interstate, and relentless press appearances.

“Aha!” Steve cried in triumph, holding up a packet of cold and flu tablets.

“I can take them to her,” Vision said jumping to his feet and moving swiftly to Steve’s side, a glass in his hand ready to fill with water for Wanda. Steve jerked back a little, evidently, he was still not adjusted to the synthezoid’s super speed.

“Okay,” Steve sounded hesitant as he passed over the thin package. “Don’t smother her, alright? She’s not in a very good mood.”

“I won’t,” Vision said pleased as he filled up the glass with water and headed off down the corridor. As he walked, he quickly had a look at what ‘smothering’ meant – why Steve thought he might cover Wanda’s head with a pillow, Vision couldn’t understand. A little more looking revealed it could also mean overwhelm. Vision shook his head, he would make every effort to not overwhelm her, he just wanted to make sure she was comfortable and provide anything that might make her feel better.

Out of Steve’s sight, he hurried quickly down the corridor that led to Wanda’s bedroom. Once he was close enough to her bedroom he phased effortlessly through the wall, bringing the water and pills with him.

He arrived in her room to find that the lights were out and the curtains drawn despite it being mid-morning.

“Vision?” Wanda exclaimed, or tried to. Her voice cracked and she coughed most of the way through his name.

He hurried to the other side of her bed, concerned to see her covers pulled up to her chin even as sweat made her forehead shine.

“What did I saw about knocking?” Wanda said, her voice hoarse, her eyes struggling to stay open.

“That I should?” Vision said hesitantly.

Wanda murmured something in affirmation, and he felt guilty.

“Sorry, I will next time. I brought you some medicine.” He set the glass of water on her bedside table which was cluttered with tissues, empty glasses and unfinished books.

“Don’t need it, thanks,” Wanda murmured, turning onto her side.

Vision sighed. She looked dreadful, which was saying something as he rarely found her anything but beautiful. Concerned, he slowly reached out to press his hand to her forehead. Wanda shivered, feverish.

“You have a high temperature; the medicine will make you feel better.”

Wanda opened her eyes blearily and huffed in frustration. She heaved herself up to lean against the headboard and held a hand out for the pills. Vision popped two of the night pills into her palm before extending the water glass. She swallowed the medicine and shivered again.

“When did you start feeling bad?” Vision asked, trying to make conversation as he hovered about her room, not yet ready to leave her in such a state.

“Last night, but woke up feeling like the plague this morning,” Wanda mumbled, slipping back down onto the pillow. He moved forward to pull her pillow up so she was more comfortable.

“Okay, well we’ll keep an eye on your fever,” he said nervously more to himself, feeling the need to speak the instructions he had read about online aloud. But Wanda’s eyes were already closed, and it seemed she was relenting to an exhausted slumber.

Vision bit his lip, unsure if he were allowed to stay in her room while she was asleep. Glancing at her bedside table he decided to at least clean up on his way out. With the empty glasses stacked and the tissues in the bin he set about opening up a window a little bit to allow for some circulation. Even if Wanda felt cold, her fever needed to come down. Finally, unable to see a reason to stay Vision went over to adjust her blankets. Seeing that she was peacefully asleep he pressed his palm to her forehead, glad to feel that she felt a little bit less warm. She murmured something sleepily but didn’t wake.

Vision returned to her wall with the glasses in hand and phased through it once more, leaving Wanda to her fever dreams. For the remainder of the day, he kept a keen eye on Wanda, phasing through her wall each hour to take her temperature and replace her water glass. She remained asleep or at least didn’t acknowledge his care, though each time he left her mouth twitched up at the corners.

“Wanda!” Vision’s voice was a singsong as he phased through her bedroom wall, eager for their promised game of chess. He had taken up teaching her the game not long after he had learnt it himself. There was no one at the compound who could play that well but he always had fun with Wanda. Even when Vision knew all the tricks, she still surprised him. In exchange they had been following up each game with a few episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show. It was their Saturday night ritual now, though they had only known each other 6 months. Wanda had only just returned from the mission she had been on with Steve and Nat. Perhaps chess was off the table, but he hoped she would let him keep her company and watch some television. Vision struggled to understand how keenly he had felt her absence in the past week.

He phased through the wall and for a moment his sight was clouded. He emerged into the bedroom that he had slowly been acquainted with. Vision knew the view from her windows, the books on her desk, her guitar in the corner and the pattern of her bedsheets. His eyes checked off each of these features before looking to the bed. His heart dropped sickeningly when he caught sight of the figure laying atop the covers.

Wanda had propped herself against the headboard, her mouth twisted in pain as she nursed a gash that was bleeding all down her left arm.

“Wanda?” Vision whispered. Her eyes opened weakly, and she grimaced a smile.

“Hi.”

Vision was at her side instantly. “Hi? What do you mean hi? Are you okay what happened—”

“Shhh,” Wanda whispered, reaching out to grab his arm and squeeze. “Don’t want the others to know.”

“What do you mean?” Vision asked furiously. “You’re hurt, why didn’t you go the med bay when you got back?”

“Please,” she turned her eyes on him and he registered the pain behind her gaze. “Help me and I’ll answer any questions you want. I tried,” she gestured to the trail of thread she’d been using to stitch herself up with, “but my hands are too shaky.”

He ignored that she was half undressed, more focused on how her blood had soaked through the left side of her top and was dripping onto her bed. Vision spared less than a second before he was speeding away from her side. He trusted Wanda, if she said that she didn’t want the others knowing then he would wait to hear her reasoning. For now, he just wanted to alleviate her pain.

He thanked the gods for his super speed as he dashed down the corridor, down the stairs through two walls and into the empty med bay. He dipped in and out of the internet finding a reputable source for stitching up a wound even as he lectured himself for not understanding such an important procedure sooner. He grabbed more supplies, gauze and bandages, antiseptic and a fresh needle and tweezers. He sped back upstairs and arrived in Wanda’s room just as she was swiping tears away from her eyes.

“Sorry,” she winced, trying to sit up better as he set his supplies on her bedside table.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Vision said soothingly. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

“You weren’t supposed to see,” Wanda sighed, her eyes closed as he set about propping her arm up with a pillow and a fresh towel to mop up the blood.

“Lucky I entered without announcing myself then,” Vision murmured perching himself next to her tense body. He wasn’t usually squeamish and managed to maintain a distance when it came to gore. But seeing Wanda’s blood trickling down her arm had his heart thumping far too quickly. He took a few calming breaths.

Vision straightened her arm and watched her forehead contort in pain, sweat beading. Silently he took the medical scissors and cut off the thread and the mess Wanda had made of her wound. On closer inspection he was relieved to see it wasn’t too deep and that the blood had stopped flowing. He cleaned and numbed the area.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Vision murmured as he helped her sit up taller, so she was at a better angle for the stitches.

“Feels bad enough,” Wanda winced.

He frowned at her pain. “Tell me about your favourite episode of Dick Van Dyke,” Vision prompted as he set about threading the needle. Wisely, Wanda decided to turn her attention to her sweeping windows and the clouds drifting across the amber sky.

“Season 2, episode 20,” Wanda said. “It’s not necessarily my favourite but it’s the episode I’ve seen the most. Rob watches this movie with aliens and monsters, it was scary for me as a kid, but I found it funny how out of control it became—” Wanda broke off with a pained groan as Vision began the first stitch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Now it doesn’t scare me but it’s still eerie...” she trailed off to prepare for the next stitch. Moments later it was done, and she breathed out slowly as Vision tugged the thread gently, closing the wound.

“— it’s interesting to look back on the episode and –” She thumped her other first on her thigh as the needle dug in once more.

“—and see how far my life has changed since I first watched it – oh fuck that!”

Vision startled, not used to hearing her swear. “Two more and it’ll be done,” Vision replied, conscious that he was leaning over her torso and that there might have been easier ways to sit for stitching up the gash.

“Two more?” Wanda sighed her right shoulder slumping in defeat.

“Almost there, almost there,” he murmured soothingly, starting on the next stitch. Wanda cried out, biting her fist. His heart twinged painfully in sympathy.

“You’re okay,” Vision said, doing his best to be comfortingly. “One more and then it’s done, one more and it’ll be over.”

He continued to murmur small comforts, hoping his voice would distract her from the thin metal dipping in and out of her skin. Despite her pain he had successfully kept the stitches neat and hoped that they’d be suitable enough for healing. At least he had used the thread that dissolved as the wound healed and she could avoid the new pain of having them taken out once more.

As he pushed the needle in for the final stitch Wanda’s head lolled against his neck. He froze in fear.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, “just, keep going.”

Her head remained pressed into the crook of his neck, her breath warming his skin in slow, controlled breaths. Vision did his best to focus on finishing off his work. He completed the final stitch, tied it up and cut the needle free. As he moved his materials to her bedside table and picked up the gauze, he became conscious of Wanda’s shoulders shaking slowly.

“Sorry,” she said quietly, her voice thick with tears.

“It’s alright, Wanda,” Vision said with a comforting smile, though she didn’t raise her head. He raised a hand and gently stroked the back of her head in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “I’ll wrap your arm up and give you something for the pain.”

Wanda sniffled against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re the only one who can phase through physical walls.”

Vision smiled happily; glad Wanda couldn’t see his reaction.

Vision hovered; his hand raised to knock on Wanda’s bedroom door. He’d been standing there for a few moments debating on whether or not to disturb her when he’d heard the soft noises of Wanda’s cries. Vision knew how she sounded when she was upset. In the year they had been living together there had been a few nights he had spent sitting outside her door, listening to her cry and waiting for her to fall asleep. Often, all she’d allow him to do was bring her food or a cup of tea, insisting she be left to her sorrows. But Vision was struggling to bear it tonight. He worried that she thought herself a burden, that she locked herself up in her room on her bad days as a way to save the rest of the team from her anguish. But Vision hated seeing, or hearing, her pain.

Unable to wait any longer Vision side stepped the door and phased right through the wood. The room was dark, and the air was still, Wanda hadn’t left her bed all day. Quietly, Vision walked slowly to her bedside and crouched beside her curled up form. The covers were pulled up over her head, her arms wrapped around one of her cushions. His throat grew tight with emotion as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Wanda?” He whispered. The covers shifted and her head emerged, tear tracks looked as though they had made permanent lines down her face, dark circles hung under her eyes.

She didn’t say anything, just rolled over so that her back was to him.

“Is there anything that you need?” Vision asked removing his hand, hesitant to take her rejection, he’d wait until she explicitly asked him to leave. Wanda didn’t reply, her breath catching in her throat, and she shook her head slowly.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Vision said quietly.

“I don’t want to bother anyone,” Wanda whispered, her voice hoarse from not speaking. Vision raised to stand, hovering next to her bed. He desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, to banish all her sadness and protect her from fear.

“You could never be a burden to me, it is a privilege to be a part of your life.” His words sounded raw, even to his own ears and he heard Wanda hiccup emotionally.

It didn’t take much, just her hand emerging from beneath the covers to tug at the hem of his woollen sweater. It was all he needed to know she wanted him to say.

She shifted to make room and Vision settled onto the bed next to her. Almost reluctantly, Wanda slid closer though her face was still hidden. When he was close enough, he pulled a blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders. She leant in, sniffling tearily. When he held his arms open, she hesitated for a few moments, her body stiff with tension. Finally, she relented, pressing her forehead into his shoulder and allowing him to wrap her in his warm arms. The tears started again, and he rocked them back and forth as she trembled.

“It’s alright,” Vision whispered over and over. He rubbed a hand in circles on her back, holding her close.

They remained that way for a while, Vision let her cry as much as she needed, not feeling the need to ask what was causing her such anguish. She would tell him when she was ready.

“When you’re feeling up for it, we can go for a walk,” Vision said soothingly, “there are wildflowers out by the woods, I even saw some bluebells the other morning. Maybe you can point out some other flowers you recognise to me. I think the birds miss you out there.” He talked slowly about small things, none of them important but gradually her sobs slowed into hiccups.

“Thank you,” Wanda whispered into his shoulders, her hands tangled up in his jumper.

“It’s okay,” Vision said softly, “just because your brain tells you you’re alone, doesn’t mean it’s true. There are so many people who care about you. Whenever you need me, I’ll always be here.”

#WandaVision fanfiction #scarletvision fanfiction #wanda x vision #scarletvision #wandavision #vision x wanda #mcu fanfiction #scarletvision fic #comfort fic #visionsofusfics #fluff and comfort

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.7 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch knows he can't really depend on the kindness of strangers, but oh, sometimes he wishes he could.

~~*~~

Read ‘The Kindness of Strangers’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was with a heavy, weird-ass book in hand that Stretch returned to the heat of the afternoon. This time he made haste getting back to the store while his knees were cooperating, almost jogging on the sidewalk and waving to any regular customers as he passed. The sun was on its downward path by now and the strollers were out in full force, the Human moms and pops pushing them hardly paying him any mind past a ‘good afternoon’ as he went by.

His knees were back to the wibble-wobbles when he slipped through the door, the bell announcing him with a muted clank. The first thing he noticed was that Red wasn’t behind the counter. He was standing at the back of the store, leaning on his cane and blocking off the hallway that led to both their living quarters. Yeah, that looked like insurance that Stretch couldn’t hurry on past him upstairs; Red wasn’t quick, but he also wasn’t stupid, and Stretch could feel his hard gaze scrutinizing him from across the store.

Wonderbar.

Stretch pasted on a grin and tried to act like someone who hadn’t been recently felt up by Red’s little brother in the public library. Not that Red said that he couldn’t, but some things, (for example, random groping) could probably be inferred.

“hey, what’s up?” Stretch said brightly.

“my bro called,” Red said bluntly, and Stretch’s feeble hopes deflated like yesterday’s party balloon. So much for discretion.

“i can explain,” Stretch blurted, “it wasn’t my idea, seriously, i was only—"

Red interrupted him with an amused snort. “easy, kid, don’t haul out your guilty conscience on my account. all he did was give me the gist of things, said you had yourself an unexpected adventure.” Red jerked his head towards the hallway. “g’wan, string bean, you can use my bathroom. take a shower and cool off.”

A cool shower pouring down on his dirty, sweaty bones sounded like Eden itself right about now, apple not included.

“thanks,” Stretch said gratefully. He skirted around Red, who didn’t move, only squatted there like a grouchy stump in the middle of the doorway while Stretch squeezed around him. Must be tempering his kindness with a little extra asshole to keep things even.

On his way to showerland, Stretch took a quick detour to leave the book on the coffee table amidst the clutter. Maybe he could ask Red about it, get the cliff notes version.

The shower in the downstairs bathroom was stuck with the same crappy water heater as upstairs, not that it mattered since Stretch was about ready to cuddle with an iceberg to cool off. Added bonus, the showerhead was a lot better and it managed to crank the feeble water pressure up to its max. There was a cheap plastic stool sitting in the tub, way too short for Stretch. He sat on it anyway, knees almost up to his chin as the cool water poured down on him and washed away the sweat and filth.

He was shivering a little by the time he was done, dragging a ratty towel over his dripping bones. The pile of his clothes was missing and there a new folded bundle sitting on the closed toilet lid. He must’ve been out of it more than he thought, he’d never even heard Red coming in. Unless laundry fairies were a thing and wasn’t that idea a lot more pertinent than it was yesterday.

Stretch picked up the bundle and part of it fell on the floor. Pajama pants, luckily not a pair of Red’s although it might’ve been hilarious to see Stretch wandering around like a scrawny hulk who sprouted upward out of his clothes instead of sideways. They were red plaid flannel and worn to the stage of being shiny at the knees and elbows. Probably an old pair of Edge’s, the fit was pretty close and not too many Humans wore their waistband quite as skinny as a guy without a waist.

(he was not getting a cheap thrill out of wearing a pair of Edge’s pajamas, no matter what his libido was trying to tell him)

He wandered out into Red’s living room, still squeegeeing his skull dry with the damp towel, and saw the sofa was made up with some blankets and a pillow, the television remote set helpfully in reach.

“you done?” Red’s voice echoed up from the store and his peculiar gait made its way down the hallway until he appeared again in the doorway. “then lay down and turn on the boob tube, zone out awhile. you’ll feel better.”

“what did your brother tell you?” Stretch asked. Not that he wasn’t willing to do what he was told. The couch was saggy in the middle, but the blankets were clean and smelling of laundry detergent. They felt blissfully cozy after the cold shower.

“said you met edgar allen,” Red said. “under less than stellar circumstances, i’m guessin’, since i don’t think ya got an invite for a meet and greet with the local scarecrow.”

This time his shiver had nothing to do with the temperature. Edgar Allen was an okay guy, (guy?) but Stretch was still on the fence about the corn’s attitude problems. “not exactly, no. thanks for the heads up, by the way.”

Red tilted his skull to one side, baffled, “heads up about what?”

“i dunno,” Stretch leaned up on an elbow to see him better and hopefully increase the effect of his dirty look, “maybe when you��re warning me off from the local landmarks, you could’ve touch on that fact that a stroll through the fields might involve the corn trying to hold me as a captive audience?”

“naaah,” Red scoffed. Stretch didn’t miss the way he absently started picking at his gold tooth; that was a nervous tell right there and maybe all this wasn’t just concern but dealing with a little guilt that Stretch’s latest town bonding experience was less than top notch. “that's why the damn scarecrow is there t'begin with. ‘sides, even without him you’d have gotten out before dark. anyway, never expected you to go tromping off into the corn in search of a maze, sorry i misgauged the direction of your dumbass.”

“no, i’m sorry, not your fault.” Stretch couldn’t hold back a yawn so wide it nearly split his skull, yeesh, it wasn’t even dinner time and he was ready to sleep for a week. The imaginary hamster running on the wheel in his head wasn’t quite as ready and it decided to race back to thoughts of Edge sitting in the library, alone. Researching he’d said, so intent on his books from the so-called restricted section, like a bargain basement Hogwarts. “hey, what does your brother do?”

“mostly he’s a pain in my ass.”

It was said with great feeling and Stretch snerked out a laugh. Yeah, kinda a universal trait with little brothers. “no, seriously, i mean, for a living, what does he do?”

Red shifted his feet, his cane scraping the floor. “why are ya askin’?”

“curious. bored,” Stretch shrugged, “take your pick.” He didn’t really want to explain to Red that his brother wasn’t just a sexy pair of legs in boots anymore, (but those hips would never be forgotten). He was interesting, no, fascinating. This whole town was turning out to be some kind of puzzle and it seemed to him that Edge might be a big piece. He’d said that figuring out Backwater was a fool’s errand, but he’d never met Stretch’s kind of fool before.

“kid—” Red sighed and that resigned tone snapped Stretch out of his whimsies. He cringed internally. What was he even trying to do here, he owed Red so much and not just for the job, and here he was digging for information about his bro after Red already warned him off, not once, but twice, so maybe what he was really digging was his own grave, if he didn’t knock it off.

“nevermind,” Stretch said hurriedly. “i shouldn’t’ve asked, none of my business, i get it.”

Red shook his head. “that ain’t it.”

Stretch tried on a little laugh, ha ha, see, it wasn’t that big a deal, right? “look, the state of your brother’s ass aside, i get it. that’s your little brother, and i didn’t forget what you said. we only bumped into each other at the library, i’m really not trying to get into his pants.”

He left off on making it a promise; he was telling the truth, but why take the chance on not keeping it.

He didn’t expected the hand that suddenly scruffed over his skull, like the noogies he used to give to Blue when he was little…well, okay, Blue was still little but noogieing was off the table since he’d started his guard training.

This wasn’t like that childish roughhousing, Red’s knuckles only scraped softly along his coronal sutures. “no, kid, you don’t get it. my bro can handle himself, it ain’t him i’m worried about. but you? don’t ya got the feeling you ain’t up to any new affairs of the soul right now? might want to take it easy awhile.”

That unexpectedly gruff kindness made tears sting in his sockets. Stretch guiltily leaned into that touch to absorb every drop, and how was it he could accept it from Red when he couldn’t take it from his own brother? “i don’t get you. you barely even know me. why are you so nice to me?”

Red huffed out a laugh. “you want i should be an asshole? okay, but i gotta warn ya, i’m a contender when it comes to dick moves.”

“thanks, but you can keep your dick in your pants.”

“your loss.”

“seriously, though, what i mean is. i just don’t get it. this place is so weird, but everyone is nice.” It didn’t exactly line up with Stretch’s view of the world. His brother was always nice sure and Snowdin hadn’t been too bad, if you didn’t count the fact that all his friends were from drinking his nights away at Muffet’s. The surface world ran about fifty-fifty with Monsters being on the kinder side of the scale…until he got dumped and found out he lost all his friends in the divorce, how was that for loyalty.

Red only chuckled. “now you’ve gone and cursed yourself. can’t say everyone is nice, you ain’t met everyone yet.”

That was true, fuck, he hoped the universe wasn’t listening and if it was, that it didn’t decide to drum up a little drama. “red?”

“yeah, kid?”

Stretch craned his head back on the pillow and met Red’s crimson gaze upside-down. “thank you for being nice.”

“don’t tell anyone. i’ll lose my resident asshole status.

“secret is safe with me, promise.” Stretch yawned again and the cow bell suddenly jangled loudly out front, startling them both.

Red shouted. “yeah, i’m coming!” He tossed over his shoulder back at Stretch, “take tomorrow off, sleep in, you ain’t had a day off since ya got here.”

“thanks, boss.”

Stretch started to settle in, nap ahoy, captain, hard to starboard and all that, and his eye lights snagged on the book. Shit, he forgot to ask Red about it. Probably didn’t matter, Red’s ingredient label kinda went equal parts of cryptic and cryptid, so he probably wasn’t gonna give the right answers even if Stretch figured out what to ask.

Wait.

If Red and Edge want to share the part of the local Obi-Wan with their mysterious ways, that was fine. He already had the perfect person lined up to ask about the town’s history. Well, part of a person, anyway, the most important part.

Plan formed, Stretch turned on the television and snuggled into the blankets, letting the dulcet tones of Pat Sajak lull him to sleep.

He didn’t dream.

~~*~~

The next day, Stretch headed over to the theater bright and early, still munching on the muffin Red handed off to him as he settled on the stool for the day with his latest book, this one with a bare-chested pirate embracing a busty Human woman as the ocean sprayed up over the hull over them. Seemed to Stretch that would be less smokin’ sexytimes and more cold and wet, but what did he know, his closest encounter with the ocean was extra salt on his Applebee’s margarita.

“thanks, mom,” Stretch said as he took the little paper lunch bag Red held out to him. Red only grunted and didn’t look up from his book. In the midst of rummaging for his tasty free breakfast, Stretch hesitated at the front door.

He felt a little guilty even though Red was the one who told him to take the day. Before he started working at the store, was Red really sitting there all day long, twelve hours of a cash register and customers while he drank beer and soaked up a little romance language in the form of a cheap paperback?

Not that Stretch was judging, hell, if that made Red happy, more power to him. Still, there had to be more to his life than that, didn’t there? Maybe he’d see if Mitch sold sudoku pads at the gas station, pick him up one along with a six-pack. Hard to guess if they carried that kind of entertainment; Mitch was either some kind of crossword grand champion or the kind of guy who ate ketchup on his cheerios and Stretch still wasn’t sure which.

The first movie showing wasn’t for another hour, but Igor didn’t make a fuss when Stretch asked him if he could go sit down early. (and holy shit, the proprietor’s name was actually Igor? He wasn’t sure if the guy’s parents hated him or if the universe sense of irony rolled a natural D20 when it hit this town.)

Igor only grunted and handed over two cups of popcorn without being asked, handing back a crumpled dollar in change. Aww, Stretch had a usual, see, he was settling into town just fine, suck it, Edge.

(don’t think it, don’t think it, don’t think it…)

Stretch made his way to the theater to his regular seat, propping his sneakers up on the chair in front of him. The popcorn he set aside for now, it wasn’t exactly his idea of a breakfast treat and that muffin Red gave him was still settling into his magic. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure if Doris could show up very long before the movie. He was no expert, but he did know that ghosts could have some peculiar rules about manifesting. Hopefully this wouldn’t mess with her morning routine, whatever it was.

He didn’t have to wait long. Maybe Doris could sense him or maybe she could just feel it when a living person came into the theater. She slowly came into focus next to him, pale ectoplasm coalescing, and the already cool air chilled even further.

Doris happily sniffed at her popcorn as she said, whispery soft, “Good morning, Stretch, you’re here very early.”

“yeah, took the day off work,” Stretch said. His voice sounded too loud in the empty theater, not even the elevator music was playing yet. “i need your help with something.”

He might as well have flipped Doris’s switch to ‘on’. She lit up, a smile curving her pretty mouth and seeming more solid than ever. The seat behind her was barely visible through her pale pink dress as she said eagerly, “Of course, anything that I can do.”

So that was how Stretch came to tell her the story about Edgar Allen. He didn’t leave out any details, including the bit about the kids shouting at him not to go in the field, the corn closing in around him in a dizzying maze of green, Edgar Allen’s assistance, and Edge’s cryptic warning that the scarecrow would disappear with the harvest.

Doris listened to it all raptly, her eyes wide and startlingly blue, and she never flickered once the entire time. The only unsettling sight was a single trickle of blood running down the side of her face, gathering in a heavy droplet on her chin.

“My, that sounds terrifying,” Doris breathed, unaware of the irony of her saying that while a slender thread of ghostly blood ran down her cheek. The droplet swelled fatly, growing until it finally fell with a plip onto her dress, leaving behind a perfectly round spot that would slowly vanish, only to be replaced by the next drop.

It didn’t really bother Stretch much anymore; he was getting used to it and an old memory of blood was nothing compared to his recent woes. “yeah, it was spooky all right.”

“But I’m not sure I can help you,” Doris continued sadly, “There wasn’t a scarecrow in my day, not that I remember. But the corn. Yes. That I recall.” She shivered delicately and her chair let out a strange groan of springs. “A person could get lost for days in the corn. I remember…” Her already faint voice went softer and Stretch strained to hear her, her gaze distant. “I remember one year at harvest time, they found a skeleton in the field, it was awful. Oh!” She gasped and pressed a gloved hand to her mouth, “I’m so sorry, it was a dead person, not a skeleton like you!”

“no offense taken,” Stretch assured her. He slouched down in his seat even more and waggled his feet, his untied shoelaces laces bobbing against the seatback “huh. so at least one person died out in the corn.”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember much about it,” Doris admitted. “whoever it was, they weren’t local.”

“uh huh.” An outsider, then, like him, getting munched up by the corn triffids. “who owns the corn fields, anyway?”

“I…” she hesitated, then apologetically. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’ve forgotten or if I never knew.”

Another mystery. If he was gonna play at Sherlock Holmes, he really needed to start taking notes. Maybe get a pipe.

“welp, either way, edgar allen bro out there saved my ass,” Stretch told her. He picked up a piece of popcorn and didn’t eat it, only crumpled it between his fingers and let the mangled bits fall to the floor, “and he’s gonna die come harvest time. i feel like i owe it to him to at least hear his story, you know? edge wouldn’t tell me much, just gave me that book and a scavenger hunt.”

“This Edge person doesn’t sound very nice,” Doris said disapprovingly. Her mouth pulled down into a frown that flashed briefly to a bloody smear. “Is he local?”

“kinda? he’s a monster like me, so he could only have been in town for a coupla years. since we came to the surface, anyway.”

Sudden relief washed over Doris’s pretty face. “He’s not a human, then.”

“nope, he’s another skeleton monster.” That seemed to satisfy her. Note to self, Doris wasn’t real keen on Humans, in a way that didn’t seem like it was only about the way they ran away when they got a good look at her. That mystery wasn’t all too mysterious, not with a big, bloody clue flickering in and out of view like a gory version of a kid’s flipbook. If that was a going away present from another Human, he didn’t blame her for being wary. He wondered if she’d met Edge before but Stretch hesitated to bring up that idea, or to mention Red; he didn’t want her to feel bad if she didn’t remember. “yep, another skeleton monster in town. he’s kinda rough around the edges, but he’s okay.”

“Okay, is that all?” Doris said with unexpected mischievousness, “he didn’t sound simply ‘okay’ when you were describing him.”

A blush flared hotly in his cheekbones and Stretch hunched down in his seat, weirdly embarrassed in a way he hadn’t been with Red. At least Red could see what he was staring at, Doris only had him waxing poetically about Edge’s hips to go by, and Shakespeare he wasn’t.

“yeah, yeah,” Stretch grumbled, and damn, he should’ve brought along his hoodie, at least he could’ve hidden from the laughter shining in her translucent eyes. She had a dimple in the cheek on her good side and it deepened as Stretch admitted, “could be that i enjoy the view. but that’s it, okay? just a little sightseeing, i don’t need any souvenirs.”

“Uh huh,” Doris clicked her tongue thoughtfully, “Stretch, my mama always told me you can’t hurry up a good time by waiting for it.”

Other people were starting to come into the theater now. One of them gave him a curious look, but they didn’t stop, only followed the others down to the front row.

“the only time i’m looking for is in the nick of,” Stretch sighed. “guess there’s no way around it, i’ll have to read the book.”

He should’ve known not to try to find an easy way out; seemed like all his shortcuts had abandoned him, lately.

Doris laid a hand on his arm and a sudden chill sank its teeth in deep enough for his bones to ache. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help,” Doris said softly.

“nah, you helped plenty,” Stretch told her. She had. Now he knew that scarecrows were slightly more recent, at least within the past century and that maybe the cornfield wasn’t quiet as safe as it’d been played off to be. At least a cornfield without Edgar Allen in it.

The lights started dimming, the first credits beginning to roll. His popcorn was cold, the butter congealing it into clumps of greasy blobs that stuck to his fingers. Stretch ate it anyway, hey, it cost him a dollar, and laughed with Doris as Buster Keaton escaped from a bumbling crowd of cops by grabbing onto a passing car.

His phone was in his pocket, tucked in deep and only lightly pressing against his femur through the thin cloth of his shorts. It vibrated once in a quick, staccato burst while the movie was playing but Stretch ignored it.

That was one lesson he’d learned very well while they still lived under the mountain; if you focused on the task at hand, you didn’t have to think about the ones you left behind.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #welcome to backwater

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sandersstudies · 4 years

Text

Espresso-ly for You - Chapter Two

I liiiiiive! Or at least, my writing does. Like I said, I can’t and won’t promise regular updates on this one, but the sweet sweet coffeeshop AU will never let me go for sure.

Chapter One Here

***

“Hey there, long time no see!” Janus said over the top of his mug. It was the one he brought from home, with a snake for a handle.

“I saw you on Sunday,” Virgil said, slouching his backpack off his shoulder to store in the employee cupboard.

“Yeah, but so much has happened since then,” Janus said, and then sipped his drink loudly. “Did Logan tell you about the birds that were fighting outside on Tuesday?”

“No.”

“See, of course he didn’t, he doesn’t care about the fun stuff. God, you look exhausted, let me get you a pick-me-up, you raccoon.” He began to measure a shot of espresso.

“I’ve already been drinking way too much soda to stay awake,” Virgil said.

“I’m not giving you soda, am I?” Janus asked, turning on the steam wand. “I’m giving you sweet bean juice, it will give you things no other drink can.” The shots pulling from the espresso machine dripped like warm honey, and Virgil had to admit they looked enticing. Janus was the most skilled barista in the cafe, going to local barista competitions three years in a row, and making it to the final round the last two years.

“One of the benefits of working here is all the free coffee you want,” Janus said. “Might as well take advantage of it.” He’d barely looked at the machine while preparing the milk and espresso, but now, with a few seconds of intense focus, he guided his pitcher across the surface of the crema to create a delicate rosetta. “There, my nicest flat white of the day, all for you.”

Virgil took the cup and sipped. Perfect, creamy foam.

Janus picked up his own cup and slurped the last of the coffee inside. “Well, better prepare for the lunchtime rush,” he said, checking his watch. “How was it yesterday?”

“Not too bad.”

“If you want to run register and food the first hour, I’ll run bar and then we can switch,” Janus said, reaching behind himself to tighten his apron strings. “If it slows down I’ll do a restock but I think we should be fine.”

Janus had been the first barista to push Virgil to run the espresso machine solo. When the morning or lunch rush came and there was a line out the door, Janus would watch and speak encouragingly, but never step in to rescue him the way Logan did.

“See these two cups?” Janus had said one day when Virgil could barely hold a milk pitcher without shaking. “These two drinks are the only ones you need to worry about right now. All those other drinks, all those other people, they don’t exist to you. It doesn’t matter if there are three drinks or thirty drinks waiting, you’re always working on these two drinks, and two drinks only.”

Eventually Virgil learned how to fall into a rhythm where he prepped one shot as another one pulled, poured one milk as another one steamed. Janus would flit back and forth from the register to the hand-off, confidently ringing in and handing out drinks as Virgil’s hands shook too hard to stop cups from spilling.

“You don’t need me,” Janus had said. “Someday you’re gonna be stuck up to your elbows in cappuccinos and I’m not going to be here, and you’ll have to haul them out of yourself. If I rescue you now, you won’t be able to do it then.”

Virgil had burned with frustration that Janus wouldn’t help him. But when the line dwindled, Virgil found himself reaching for the next cup in line, and it wasn’t there. He’d done it, he’d seen only two drinks in front of him and had conquered a breakfast rush. The customers had become a blur, and he’d honed in on more lattes and macchiatos than he could count.

“The next challenge,” Janus had said as they shared coffee in the following lull. “Is to bring the customers into focus too. Two things matter in coffeeshops, the coffee, and the people. You can’t let either one distract from the other.”

“You want me to do all that and small talk?”

“It gets easier with time.”

The retrospect that proved Janus right didn’t help Virgil to not feel aghast at the suggestion. It was easy to envy Janus’ ease around customers, asking Wendy how her radishes were doing as he poured her coffee, telling jokes to kids, and showing them the swan he’d drawn in their father’s latte.

Virgil tied his apron and went to the front register. He ran his fingers over the screen. Pretending to type up a long order was his key both to eavesdropping and to looking busy, especially if he furrowed his brow just enough to look focused. Whenever a particularly angry customer started to complain at the other end of the counter, here Virgil would be, tapping like he was crafting a novel and not hitting the button for “doppio” a dozen times in a row. Meanwhile Janus, usually, would be the one at the end, silver-tongued and composed, listening with raised eyebrows and a soft smile. He’d turn around only when the cafe was empty to say “could you believe that jerk?”

A gaggle of college girls in matching volleyball t-shirts approached, and Virgil glanced at Janus, who cracked his knuckles dramatically. “May the coffee gods guide me,” he said as the bell on the door jangled merrily.

“Hi, what can I get for you?”

“Large iced vanilla soy latte.”

“Medium blended caramel coffee, extra caramel, whipped cream.”

“Small almond latte.”

And so on down the line. Janus remained unfazed, continuing to greet other customers who braved entering the store despite the line. He called out every drink he made and made eye contact with each girl who picked hers up, even (Virgil thought he saw) winking a couple times. The hum of the espresso machine and hiss of the steam wand filled the cafe, singing along to the piano playing over the speakers. Was this Logan’s playlist?

The line didn’t end, after that. The girls cleared and were replaced by tides of office workers in pressed clothes from the smattering of office buildings that hemmed in the coffee shop on all sides. Friendly receptionists and personal assistants were a favorite of Virgil’s, and were perhaps the only ones who called him by endearments that didn’t feel horribly awkward. Most of them tipped well.

The cafe chairs filled up, representing casual business talks, friendly meet-ups, and solitary breaks from long days. All the grind-never-stop types had the coffee to-go, and those taking a quick respite adored the cafe’s “for here” cups. Virgil liked to watch for the people who perked up or relaxed with their first sip. One of the personal assistants from the building across the street (Virgil thought her name was Jackie) put her cappuccino to her lips and leaned back into her chair, the tension around her eyes softening.

A moment came where a couple of middle-aged women paused to examine the menu, and Janus appeared as if by magic at the register.

“Tag team, let’s go! Your turn on the bar, kid.”

Virgil moved to the espresso machine. Janus had not only finished the drinks in front of him, but wiped down the counter and machine to leave Virgil the perfect surface to begin again. The middle-aged women put in their orders, and Virgil felt like his vision zoomed in as he began the two drinks in front of him, and the two after that, and the two-

He was getting better at this now, even managed a croaked “hello,” to most of the customers who walked in the door, and a “thank you” as they took their drinks. He let the steam wand run a few extra seconds to feel the warmth bead on his face every time he started to get anxious.

The lunch rush came to its merciful end, and Virgil took his break to chew a PB&J sandwich before Janus left for the day. As the clock hit two, the elder barista pulled his keys from the cupboard.

“I bid you adieu and an easy close,” he said, twirling his keychain around his hand as he clocked out. The jingle of his keys was followed by the jangle of the door behind him, and Virgil was alone in the cafe.

He brewed fresh coffee - they’d almost run out during the rush, and pause to sweep the floors and wipe down the counters. Running the store for the last three hours before close, and the chance to close the store by himself was both a responsibility and a chance for peace that Virgil appreciated. He liked helping customers, more spread out then before, and in between them finding little things to clean, extra minutes to practice his latte art - damn, how could Janus draw a rosetta so effortlessly? All Virgil’s came out looking like lumps.

He aerated the milk gently, and heard the front bell ting.

“Hey there,” Virgil said without looking up, tilting his pitcher so the foam was perfectly incorporated. He turned the steam wand off and gently groomed the milk to pour. “Sorry, I’ll be right with you.”

The milk texture was almost perfect. He guided his pitcher over the crema and… produced a haphazard rosetta. It was lopsided and a little mangled from Virgil swirling the crema too hard, but it wasn’t one of his worst attempts.

“Hey, that looks pretty good!”

Virgil looked up and felt his ears get hot. Roman was leaning slightly over the bar (oh wow, he was even taller than Virgil had thought), staring at the cup. “Could you do one like that for me?”

Virgil swallowed. “Yeah uh… yeah, sure.” Nevermind that it was much harder to make oat milk froth properly. Virgil grabbed his non-dairy pitcher.

“Oh, could you make it as an large cinnamon-”

“Yeah, I got it.” Oh no, I cut him off. In too deep now. Virgil felt Roman’s gaze on him as he made the latte. The cinnamon-sugar topping made a nice base to draw with, but Virgil didn’t have as much experience with oat and soy, and the rosetta was barely visible as he finished it. Roman stared into the cup.

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered. “Still practicing.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Roman said, but sounded a bit disappointed. He left a ten on the counter. “Thanks for trying, the extra’s for you.”

He left the cafe, and Virgil watched him vanish down the street, but just before he was out of sight, he put the to-go cup to his lips, and Virgil saw his shoulders relax.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #janus sanders #sanders sides #tsfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fic

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aizawaorkuroo · 4 years

Text

on the house (chapter 1) - honey cinnamon latte

Ship: Yagi Toshinori x reader

Rated: G

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: All it took was one decision. One small, spur-of-the-moment decision that set off chain reactions. One little, free drink changed your life. It led you to the kindest man you've ever met. Yagi Toshinori.

Warnings: none for now! but smut in later chapters!

AN: Reader has a minor healing quirk! Highkey nervous about posting my writing for the. first time on this blog, but uhhhhh, so be it. Also my first time writing bhna 🥺 Feautres two original characters!

OTH Masterlist

______________

Cool, morning light pours through the large windows of Sweet Bean Cafe. You stifle a yawn as you wait for your cup of coffee to finish brewing. Save for the hypnotic dripping into your mug, silence fills the cafe as you watch the world wake up.

You’ve worked here for quite a while now, but this was still one of your favorite moments of the day. It’s as if a sense of peace weaves its way through the city, despite whatever damage was done over the night. You tear your gaze away from the outside world to fix your coffee. You shut your eyes and inhale deeply, the scent sending a jolt down your spine. You were going to finish this cup before the morning rush, so help you, god.

You sip your drink and continue to watch the city sleepily awake. You finish your cup and look at the cat clock on the wall. 5:40. A jolt of panic seizes you. Twenty minutes before the cafe opens. You turn to look back at the empty kitchen behind you and let out a sigh. Still just you. If Aiko and Suga are any later there’s going to be hell to pay. You’re not paying them to sleep in. You’re sure as hell not paying them to leave you alone during the morning rush.

Anxiety prickles at your stomach as you watch the minutes tick on by. You needlessly adjust the display of baked goods you had already made and set out. Normally Suga would be doing this, and your nose scrunches up at the thought. As you lean on the counter thinking about no other employees would work the opening shift, you hear the back door slam open. Your head dips, and you let out an exhale.

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT! I SWEAR!” Aiko’s bell-like voice rings out through the cafe. You turn and cross your arms, quirking a brow at her. Both of your late employees are standing in the kitchen by the back door. Aiko’s hair is tied back haphazardly, her horns and skin a bright cherry red. She’s breathing heavily, and she drops into a nearby chair. Suga doesn’t look much better, as he leans against the counter, trying to maintain his composure. You roll your eyes.

“I truly thought you were both going to leave me alone for the busiest shift,” you say, faux worry dripping off your words. Suga turns to look at you, a small twinkle in his eye.

“We would never,” he gasps, holding his hand over his chest in fake shock. “There’s nothing crueler than being left alone to open.” Aiko rises to her feet and nods in agreement with a laugh.

“Left alone, to open? You must think very little of us.” False sincerity floods her tone, and you bark out a laugh.

“Okay, okay you brats. Get ready to open.”

While the three of you had mainly been joking, the morning rush is no joke. Mustufu was a busy city. Not only was it full of everything a regular city had, but Mustufu also boasted the esteemed UA High School, and with it came all sorts of people.

You unlock the front door and wait behind the register as you watch the seconds go by on the clock. 5, 4, 3, 2, - a bell rings as the front door opens. You smile warmly at your first customer.

“Good morning! Welcome to Sweet Bean Coffee! What can I get you?”

______________

The first thirty minutes is fine. It lulls you into a false sense of security. It tells you that this is fun, you like this job. But it’s the next hour that always gets you. You and Aiko work the front, while Suga handles the kitchen and baking. Owning this cafe had always been a dream of yours, but it had come at the cost of a lot of hard work.

Paying off your debt had come at the cost of oven burns, scalding coffee, and many sleepless nights spent baking. While you loved to tease them, Aiko and Suga were absolute gifts, and they celebrated with you when you properly owned Sweet Bean Cafe. But it’s moments like this that remind you that the work isn’t done. Actually running this cafe takes time and effort.

The bell rings and you hear Aiko squeal in excitement. You glance at the clock. 7:30. Ah, right.

You turn to greet your regular customer with a smile.

“Good morning Mr. Aizawa! What can I get for you?” He grunts in greeting.

“A black coffee.” The usual order. You can’t stop the small smile that tugs on the corners of your mouth. As you count out his change, Aiko hands him his coffee and beams at him. The first time the Erasure Hero showed up at Sweet Bean, Aiko had frozen. She stared, jaw on the ground, at her favorite hero, as he ordered a black coffee.

He had begun to turn up more frequently and thankfully, Aiko no longer stopped functioning in shock. Instead, she gets almost unbearably excited. You hand Aizawa his change and punch his rewards card with a small smile.

“Good news, next one’s free Mr. Aizawa!” He nods before leaving, offering nothing else but an unenthusiastic wave. You take the next customer's order before shaking your head and turning to Aiko.

“I don’t get it Aiko. He’s so, well, not like you at all.” She laughs as she begins to brew another drink.

“I’m not trying to date him or anything! I just think he’s really cool. We’re lucky to have him as a hero,” she says, sounding sincere for once. You hum in agreement at her words.

The morning rush ends before you know it, and the rest of the day begins to slow down. At around 3:00, Aiko chips her goodbyes before rushing out the door to make it to her afternoon classes. With no other employees scheduled for today, it would just be you and Suga. But after the morning shift, it was nothing the two of you couldn’t handle, especially with Suga in the kitchen.

As business slows, you shift to look outside. A stream of cars and people pass by. Everyone with their own stories and dreams. It's impossible to ignore the content that's growing in you. You sigh softly, a warmth settling itself in your chest.

“What’s up, boss?” You turn to look at Suga, giving him a confused look. “You’re, uh, glowing. Gonna bless more beans?” he asks jokingly. You roll your eyes before looking down at your arms. Sure enough, your body is indeed glowing. An exhale makes its way through your lips as you focus on stopping the warmth that’s trickling through you.

“No, I finished blessing the coffee beans this morning while you and Aiko were both probably sleeping.” Suga looks embarrassed and rubs the back of his head. “I’m just feeling…” you trail off and tap the counter, searching for the right word. “...at peace, I suppose.”

He makes a noise of affirmation and gives you a small nod. Wordlessly, he goes back into the kitchen, and you turn to the espresso machine, creativity taking hold of your mind.

As you experiment with different syrups and garnishes, you can’t help but be thankful that your quirk works on food, including coffee beans. Every morning, you would “bless” the beans, as Suga jokingly said. It made the coffee take on minorly healing properties and left your customers feeling good.

The time passes pretty quickly as you mess around with different potential flavors. After deciding that there’s potential in the vanilla and lavender you turn around, and the sky is shifting into soft pinks and calming oranges. You can’t help but grin as the bell rings and you see the Erasure Hero enter the Sweet Bean once again. But he’s not alone. That’s different.

The man next to him is tall and lean, with yellow hair that blooms behind him and frames his face. His face is gaunt, and his cheekbones are so sharp you could cut yourself on them. His bright blue eyes bore into yours, and warmth floods your stomach. He looks both frail and strong, exhausted and wired, intense yet relaxed, a series of oxymorons you could get lost in. Realizing you’re staring, you tear your gaze away from the stranger towards Aizawa.

“One black coffee Mr. Aizawa?” you ask with a brow quirked. He nods.

“Don’t forget, it’s free this time,” he murmurs as you fix his order.

“Ya know, you could get something much nicer,” you laugh. “Your kid, Sato, he uses his free item on one of Suga’s cakes.” He grunts, and as you turn to hand him the cup his nose scrunches.

“This is good enough.” You roll your eyes before turning back to look at the strange man next to him.

“And, uh, what can I get for you?” you ask, trying to ignore the nerves in your stomach. He turns his intense gaze to the menu and grimaces. When he looks back at you, the air feels far too warm.

“There’s a lot of choices. Anything you recommend?” His voice rumbles through the air, sending a small chill down your spine. You feel paralyzed under the weight in his gaze, and you freeze. He shifts uncomfortably as you rack your brain for words.

“I uh, the- the honey cinnamon latte. That one. I like that one.” He chuckles lightly before nodding.

“In that case, I’ll have one of those.” You turn at his response and focus on making his drink. What is wrong with you? This complete stranger is turning you into a mess.

Once his drink is ready, you offer it to him without meeting his eyes.

“Thank you very much, how much is it?” His tone is warm, and it makes you flush. Making a rash decision, you offer him a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, sir! It’s on the house!” you say in what you pray is a regular voice. Your gaze meets Aizawa’s, and you see him glare at you as his face slips into a look of betrayal. He’s been coming here for a while now, and you’ve never offered him something on the house.

Your body heats up as you look back at the tall man in front of you. He looks a little embarrassed at the gesture.

“That’s very kind of you, but I’m alright with paying.” He pulls out his wallet, and you scramble in a panic before bowing your head.

“Oh no, it’s alright! You are Aizawa’s guest. He was using his reward, and the coffee he ordered was such a small price so I promise it’s okay!” When you look up, both men are watching you carefully. Your stomach twists in knots as you begin to regret your spur of the moment decision.

There’s gotta be a way out of this. You evaluate your next potential actions, and as you're about to speak, you’re cut out by a cry coming from the kitchen. The mounting tension shifts into a collective confusion.

“Suga?” You hesitantly ask. “Are you alright?”

“Ah, sorry Y/N!” He calls out. “I burned my hand! Do ya think you can help me out?” You grimace and cross your arms.

“We’ve got burn ointment in our first aid kit. Can’t you use that?” Self-conscious blooms in you at the thought of using your quirk in front of customers. Suga crosses the threshold to the storefront, clutching his raw hand.

“I was in the middle of something and the ointment’s gonna take too long,” he whines. You exhale and roll your eyes before you move to hold Suga’s injured hand.

Ignoring the mildly curious stares from behind you, you shut your eyes and focus on the energy inside of you. Warmth floods through your veins before reaching your palms. You open your eyes as your hands begin to lightly glow. Suga shoulders visibly sag as he relaxes. You focus on getting a grip on the warmth and buzz you feel in your hands. The glow fades, and you release Suga’s hand.

“Thanks, Y/N! I’m feeling pumped now!” He clutches his hand before heading back to the kitchen in determination. When you turn around, you meet the curiosity you felt on your back head-on.

“It’s a basic healing quirk. It makes my hands warm and uh, makes the target feel pretty good.” You wring your hands nervously. They both appear to be calculating you, their eyes distant. Aizawa is a teacher at UA, so that makes sense. Perhaps the other man works there too.

“Anyways, please enjoy the drink!” You turn and make yourself busy making unnecessary adjustments to the espresso machine. What has gotten into you?

“Thank you very much, y/n!” The stranger says in a steadfast tone. You freeze at the use of your name, before looking over your shoulder and smiling.

“Of course! Please come again!”

As soon as they exit, you groan and bury your face in your hands. You hear footsteps coming from the kitchen and Suga’s voice wafts through the air gently.

“Are you okay?” You lift your head and look dejected at him.

“I am an absolute fool who has no self-control, Suga,” you bemoan. His eyes widen as your recount of the events turns into a spiral. Oh boy, something certainly had you in a frenzy.

______________

Toshinori furrowed his brows, as he and Aizawa returned to the street. Something had felt off about that entire interaction. As if reading his mind, Aizawa begins to speak.

“That was...strange.” The taller man turns to look at his friend.

“What do you mean?”

“She's not normally so...flustered. I’ve been coming here every morning for a while now, and occasionally after classes end too. She’s normally a lot calmer, less flustered,” he says in a calculating manner. Toshinori hums in response. So it wasn’t all in his head.

“And she’s never given anyone something on the house without a rewards card,” Aizawa continues, his eyes narrowing.

“Well, she said that-” Toshinori begins, but is cut off by Aizawa’s cutting stare.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Do you think she was able to recognize me?” Toshinori asks hesitantly. Aizawa pauses for a second, shakes his head, and begins to walk away. Toshinori turns to look back at you through the window. Something tugs at his heart as he sees you in a panic rambling to the baker, Suga he recalled. He ignores the heat that rushes to his cheeks before turning to catch up to Aizawa.

#yagi toshinori #yagi toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x you #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori yagi #my writing #on the house #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #toshinori content #💫.yagi

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aaetherius · 4 years

Text

@cxffexngel

National kissing day? Tsk! No way something so trivial will defeat what stubborn this angel right here can be, and so hands go for that red ribbon that ties the other, yank it just enough for his height to not be an impediment for lips to meet pale skin of Lucifer's cheek. Maybe he missed the spot but it counts! Or else embarrassment would burn him alive....

Unprompted - Always open (feel free to turn into threads if you like)!

★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ―☼ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

Wings are tucked against his back as tightly as he can manage in the homely space of the cafe; soft feathers caressing slick armor and pressing into the curve of his spine - their slender tips licking at his calves where thick boots wrap. Hands are busy carefully pouring a generous amount of freshly brewed coffee into a collection of delicate cups laid out upon the counter before him, carefully and with a bit of distance - he has already broken far too many of them with clumsy wings that need more adjusting to than he would like to admit. Steam billowing up from the dark, tepid liquid that smells of beans and dry leaves; it’s pleasant aroma easily filling the cluttered room - a space is made for everything and anything as far as the eye can see. Yet, he knows where every single thing is kept, hidden away in countless drawers or shoved aside on various countertops that breathe nothing but dedication to the craft, because he knows Sandalphon’s habits perhaps better than he even understands his own. Organized chaos, he had once heard Katalina mention in passing when she had come to pick up a cup for herself far too early one morning not too long ago, and he’s just now leaning, the more time he allows himself to spend here, what she had meant by that (because, to him, this space screamed nothing but Sandalphon - down to the selection of teacups themselves and to the way the tables had been set up so they faced the windows and the deck he had added).

A hand gingerly takes one of those cups within its grasp to take it back up to the deck to serve to one of their waiting grew members, but fingers pause when he hears the click of heels against hard wood and he knows, even without the need to turn around or the sound of the other’s voice, that those footsteps belong to Sandalphon. He sets that cup back down, smile naturally falling onto pale lips as he turns to greet the other - something akin to stubborn determination brimming in those scarlet eyes that look up at him. “Oh, Sandalphon, good m-” Words retreat back down his throat before they even have the chance to finish; cut short by the hands that reach out to grasp the red ribbon wound loosely about his neck and it doesn’t take much, barely even a light tug - so little in fact that as the former Supreme Primarch he should be ashamed of himself - to pull him down just enough that he’s thoroughly within Sandalphon’s reach - eyes wide and swimming with surprise, though he doesn’t put him even the ghost of a fight to their newfound closeness.

The other’s lips brush against his cheek before he has a chance to ask what had prompted this, and that surprise that had taken hold a moment ago deepens all the more; just the faintest, so faint it’s difficult to even notice, but of color climbing to ivory features as wings twitch and threaten to spread out behind him (but he has enough awareness to stop them when they tap against the counter and threaten to spill the now lukewarm cups of coffee that are balanced behind him). It takes a moment of prolonged silence for him to recover enough that features soften and that shock slowly fades from his expression. His first thought - asking him what had brought him here, is tossed aside - long forgotten amongst the countless others that are now rattling against the bars of his mind and leaking into the very recesses of his now heated core where it drums mercilessly against his chest - something akin to weakness and tender affection twisting it up until it’s on the verge of bursting.

He has little idea what had prompted Sandalphon to kiss him, though he doesn’t mind either - he doesn’t need to know. This act of boldness is more than welcomed, but it won’t go unreturned now that he’s managed to, somehow, regain his composure. He leans down a bit more to return the kiss - lips pressing softly against the smaller’s cheek, almost mirroring the same spot where the sensation of Sandalphon’s touch still lingers against his skin. When he pulls away, the distance he allows is precariously brief. “Good morning,” he breathes gently in the air between them - the scent of coffee still clinging to his hair and armor. “You are as spirited as ever, I see, Sandalphon.” Humor drips into his voice; the corners of his mouth tugging upwards, but he doesn’t bother, just yet, to straighten himself out - there’s something about this closeness that settles the ever present hum of his core when he’s around the other, and he doesn’t want to lose it just yet.

#cxffexngel #| ☩ A faint dusting after sunset ☩ (verse: AU - Post) |#| ☩ Cradled within the gentle breeze ☩ (ask) |#| ☩ And once again the sky rises; sincere and melancholic ☩ (IC) |#{ Thank you for sending this! }#{ lol Sandy }#{ I feel like this is something Gran/Djeeta would tell him about }#{ and of course he's stubborn so he has to act on it once he knows haha }#{ they would tell him it's national kissing day just to mess with him and see what he'd do haha }#{ anyway sandy is so good and precious }

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shounenforgirls · 4 years

Text

i’m not in love

an excerpt from my erejean wip. high school au, 1,429 words. T-rated.

It was an evening after detention when Eren first realized it.

Jean had passed by him at the bus stop and offered to drive him home– as an apology for ripping your shirt and scratching your cheek went unsaid. Jean does not apologize, but Eren knew better.

A part of him wanted to say, no, I'd rather wait for an hour to catch the last bus than sitting beside you in your old sedan, but it was getting dark and Eren could practically hear his mother yelling at him for coming home late.

Another ego crushed. As Eren climbed into the passenger seat, a faint smell of coffee entered his nostrils. His eyes wandered around the interior of the car, and a little bag filled with coffee beans at the corner near the steering wheel caught his attention. Must be the source of the smell.

Jean got into the car shortly after putting his stuff on the trunk. He started the car, wiggling on his seat. "You live in the same neighborhood as Armin, right?"

"Yeah. Just several blocks from his house."

"Cool." The blond moved to reach for the glove compartment, which should be a completely innocent gesture if it wasn't for the musky scent and the warmth radiating from his exposed skin.

Thump, thump.

After half a minute of Jean messing up the compartment in front of Eren and Eren shifting nervously in his seat due to the close proximity of their bodies, Jean found his CD and put the radio on. The first song that played had a guitar riff that sounded experimental and rough at times– and Eren thought that if Jean was a song, this would be it.

When the chorus hit, Eren decided that he liked the song.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" Jean asked, cigarette already dangling on his lips and a lighter on his hand. He lit the cigarette, not giving Eren the chance to answer.

"Why do you even bother to ask, bastard." Eren said, rhetorically.

The car finally moved.

"I know you smoke too, so automatically, you wouldn't mind."

"You know I smoke and didn't offer me, and instead asking me a stupid question that you already know the answer to?"

"Force of habit, jeez. I actually care about other people's wellbeing. I don't smoke arbitrarily, unless around people who also want to die fast." He emphasized the die fast, which pissed Eren off even more somehow.

"So, if you happen to be one of those people who also want to shorten their lifespan, feel free to open the compartment and take one out of the box."

"How generous of you." Eren said, tone dripping with sarcasm. He did exactly as Jean said, though. After a particularly rough day, it only felt natural to want to smoke.

The car ride was devoid of words. It was only music, Jean's hum, the left and right that came out of Eren's mouth every once in a while, and the sound of late summer wind passing by the open windows of the car. This was their first time sitting beside each other in silence, in peace. No words means no arguments. He took a quick glance at Jean, who was covered in the warm hue of street lights. Jean, whose perfectly gelled hair is now disheveled from their fight earlier. Jean, whose steady gaze upon the road made him look slightly older. Between the drag of Jean's cigarette and the rhythmic taps of his fingers on the steering wheel, Eren found a strange comfort. He felt like somehow he could get used to this.

"...Ger. Hey, asshole." Jean called, voice raised.

"Uh. What?"

"What the hell are you zoning out for?"

"Nothing." Eren thanked whatever God out there for the dim light surrounding them (and the bandage sticking just right under his cheekbone, too), concealing the shade of pink rising on his cheeks.

Jean let out a sigh. "Can I ask you something? This is kind of embarrassing, but…"

Eren swore, even in the dark– that Jean's cheeks had the same color as his.

Thump, thump, thump.

"...Does Mikasa hate me? I mean– you know how much of a creep I was. I always wanted to apologize to her for my behavior, but I'm not even sure how to do it."

Eren felt a sharp pang of disappointment at the question. He hadn’t the slightest idea why. Disappointment comes from expectation, and what did he particularly expect from Jean? (There was a hint of jealousy in that disappointment, but of course Eren quickly dismissed it, just like he always do to his other feelings and emotions.)

Jean does not apologize. Eren knew better.

Or he might not know anything at all.

No, Mikasa doesn't hate you.

Eren let out a forced laugh. "What do you think a girl would feel when some random boy is pestering her for a whole year?"

She was bothered, yes, but to her, hate is a strong word.

He saw that Jean was about to open his mouth, so he quickly shut him down. "I personally would hate that guy. What a pest. I don't know about her, though. Maybe I can ask later."

I would not ask her. I would not let you know, ever.

"...I see." Jean murmured. "Yeah. Please do."

It's funny how I could see right through you. How you are clearly offended yet still play it cool.

The car ride went silent again. The music was still there, but this time indistinct– overlapped by the deafening echoes of Eren's heartbeat, and a voice in his head telling him scornful things.

You're aware that he's trying to be a better man.

You could've been nicer to him.

You always ruin everything.

"Which one is your house?" Jean asked, after five minutes that felt agonizingly long.

"There," Eren pointed. "The one with a Jeep in front of it."

The taller boy whistled, steering to the left. "Nice Jeep. Your dad's?"

"Brother's."

"Shit, I often forget you have a brother." Jean parked the car, right behind the Jeep.

As Eren unbuckled his seatbelt, he inhaled deep. This might be his first and last ride in Jean's car, and a part of him did not want to forget both the smell of coffee and Jean's (most likely) hundred dollar perfume.

You could've been nicer to him.

"By the way, where did you get that coffee air freshener from?"

Jean raised his eyebrow at the unusual question and Eren had a momentary regret of opening his dumb mouth.

"A convenience store near my house, if I remember correctly."

"Oh. Thanks. Um, for the ride too." Eren said, words heavy on his tongue.

"Don't mention it."

And when the car door opened halfway, Eren felt a sudden grab on his wrist.

"Jaeger."

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

"Look, I'm sorry about the scar. And your shirt. I could pay… for the shirt, I mean."

Jean does not apologize. At least that's what Eren thought.

I thought I knew you.

I should be nicer to you.

"It's fine. We fight all the time, anyway. Also this is an old shirt, I don't really care about it."

The blond exhaled, loosening his grip on Eren's wrist.

I don't want you to let go.

Jean gave him a lopsided smile. "Alright. See you, Eren."

The car door slammed shut. As Eren walked through his yard, he felt giddy, floating. Two steps into the house and his mother was already bombarding him with questions– and questions quickly turned into a lecture.

It was hard to pay attention to what she was saying when the grip of Jean's hand was still lingering, warm on his skin– and there was a tempest inside him that grew louder, wilder when he thought about that parting smile.

Eren spent the rest of the night shifting around in his bed, trying to ignore the voice in his head telling him that he would like to see Jean again, too– and not just a mere passing by each other in the school hallway or some petty arguments near the parking lot. He wants to see Jean in the morning, during lunch break, after the last bell rings. In his waking hours and before he closes his eyes.

He went to sleep dismissing all his wants– burying them as deep as it could go, hoping that when he wakes up tomorrow morning they would leave him without any trace. The room felt much warmer than usual and the dream that he had that night certainly wasn’t helping, not in the least.

#yes this is inspired by i'm not in love by kelsey lu #hence the wip title #if you're reading this pls listen to the song #i'm currently still writing the second part with jean's pov #erejean #jeanere #eren x jean #eren jaeger #jean kirstein #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #my writing #avaposting

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