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garbagevanfleet · 4 years

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Brightest Blue (series)

PART SEVEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: men being shitty and creepy!! possible trigger for sexual assult Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: things are taking an odd turn, right? (sorry this is posted so late)

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

MASTERPOST

You woke up to the shrill chiming of an alarm cutting through your head like a circle saw. The unexpected noise made you sit up instantly, putting your gaze directly on a desk, the top of it overflowing with sheet music.

Josh started to stir next to you, his hand reaching out from under the blanket to grab his phone from where it sat in between you.

The sore spot on your ribs made you wince, and your eyes drifted down to find your own phone, pressed into the mattress from you sleeping on it.

When the screen flicked on, you let out a sharp gasp.

“Josh, we have like fifteen minutes to leave!” you yelped, hopping instantly out of bed and finding your knees a little wobbly.

He sat up then, rubbing across his face.

You gazed back at him, frowning at the odd setup; he was laying on top of the comforter but under a different blanket.

“Shit, I had yesterday’s alarm still set for my late class,” he murmured, inching himself toward the end of the bed.

“Oh my god,” you whined, racing to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth way too quickly, knowing in your heart that you did a poor job.

When you returned to Josh’s room for your phone, he was pulling a clean shirt over his head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, sounding somewhere between asleep and awake.

“It’s okay, I should have set my own alarm,” you admitted, snatching your cell from the bed and scooting past him again. “It’s really okay. Are you going to be ready to leave in like ten?”

He nodded as he ran his fingers through his curls. “Yeah, you?”

“I’m praying.”

On the walk to school, you remembered.

“Fuck, my presentation is today. And I got high and didn’t practice.”

He chuckled under his breath, clasping his hand around your shoulder. “You’re going to be fine- just breathe and stay calm. If you mess up, take a pause and keep going.”

You nodded furiously. “Okay. Okay. Can you text that to me? What if I forget?”

He laughed in earnest then. “Yes, I’ll text you.”

You exhaled a lengthy breath, nodding as you tried to calm your nerves.

In front of the entrance to the B hall, he spun you around to face him, holding the biceps of each of your arms. He mimicked taking a deep breath, prompting you to do the same without another thought.

“Relax,” he instructed coolly. “And I’ll see you at lunch.”

+++

You had your hands clasped tightly in your lap, nervous enough that your palms were sweating. Getting up and speaking to a room of people was high on your list of things that felt like torture, especially since you hadn’t had time to shower or do anything with your mess of hair besides pinning it up into a bun as best you could.

You thanked a divine power that the outfit you had thrown on in a haste ended up looking surprisingly presentable.

As it neared your turn, you got your papers in order and straightened up your posture. When your name was called, you promptly stood, descending the steps and ending up down at the podium.

You had just opened your mouth to start when your phone chimed in your pocket. Your eyes popped open wide, hoping you’d hallucinated the sound instead of forgetting to silence your ringer.

The professor was giving you an unamused look as you gave a weak laugh.

“One sec, sorry,” you muttered, fishing out your phone. You flicked the little button down on the side, but as the screen lit up, you got to read what the message said.

Josh just now Just pretend everyone’s me or pretend they’re naked. Probably not both though.

You couldn’t help but huff a laugh as you tucked it back away. The nerves that had you so on edge started to dampen, just a bit.

+++

That afternoon, you walked home alone. Josh had texted you that he’d be staying until 5 or 6 to make sure the production was going along smoothly, but when he returned to the apartment, it was with a bottle of wine.

You were doing some of the dishes from the previous day and had to wipe your soapy hands on a dishtowel before he crossed the room and pulled you into a side hug.

The two of you had talked about how well the presentation went when you met at lunch, but you hadn’t imagined he’d make such a big deal about it.

“I had Jake pick me up and take me to the liquor store, and I got this so we could celebrate,” he informed, his voice kind of soft - either sheepish or tired, you couldn’t quite tell.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you replied, but couldn’t suppress the huge grin splitting your lips.

He nodded, offering a soft smile. “I know.” He set the bottle down on the table pointedly. “I wanted to.”

You fished the make-shift corkscrew from the utensil drawer, brandishing it like a knife to earn a melodic laugh from Josh.

He popped the door of the fridge open to peer inside. “We might be able to make something special for dinner. Or, at least more special than mac and cheese or sandwiches.”

When the idea popped into your head, you crossed the room and grabbed your purse.

“I still have about,” you paused to count the bills in your wallet. “$34 from shopping. I was saving it for something nice, so why don’t we order something in?”

He grinned at you, leaning back against the wall next to the fridge and letting his head rest against it. “What kind of take-out are you thinking? You should get to pick.”

“Oh, please,” you huffed, playfully rolling your eyes as you started unwrapping the foil around the rim of the wine bottle. “One, I could have never done so well if it weren’t for you. And two, you’re from here, so you’d know what’s worth ordering.”

His pink lips tilted up into a smirk. “I’m not from here though.”

“Close enough.” You took a moment to think before continuing on. The tip of the corkscrew was broken, leaving a blunt edge and he watched you struggle to pierce the cork with it. “Is there any kind of Indian? Or Thai maybe?”

He nodded. “There’s an Indian restaurant downtown. It’s pretty yummy if I remember right.”

“That kinda sounds perfect, right?”

He held his hand out, flicking his eyes down at the corkscrew and then back up at you until you reluctantly handed it over. He picked up the bottle and popped it open with ease, his smirk only growing.

“Yeah, perfect.”

+++

Thursday evening, Trevor showed up around five, just as you were finished making your bedroom look like a cute study nook. You weren’t entirely sure how much studying either of you planned on doing, but since he only brought one notebook and nothing else, you weren’t very hopeful about getting any work done.

“I wasn’t expecting you to have a roommate,” he said in a playful tone.

“I do. When I moved here, I knew I couldn’t afford to live alone, so I rolled the dice. He’s a great friend, as it turns out. Do you want something to drink?” you asked as he stepped through your doorway and set his stuff down on your bed.

“That’d be cool.”

“We have juice and milk and water and iced tea.”

He shrugged with a smile. “Anything but milk, please.”

You nodded. “I’ll bring you some juice.”

Josh, who was seated in the sitting chair in the living room, working on his own homework, looked up at you through his eyelashes with a mischievous-looking smile.

You shot him a scowl. “Don’t be weird,” you whispered, and then in a normal tone, finished with, “Would you like some juice too?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head at you. “That’s okay, I can get my own. You just worry about him.”

Trevor happily took his glass as you handed it to him, giving you a “thank you”.

“Of course,” you replied as you sat next to him on the bed and pulled your stack of textbooks onto your lap. “Where should we start?”

“You actually want to study?” he mused, sounding disbelieving.

You bit your lip. “Probably for a little while at least, right?”

He shrugged back at you, but you tried to brush off the odd attitude. Maybe you’d given him the wrong impression as to exactly what this would be, but you could fix it.

“So, we’re supposed to read chapters ten through sixteen and then do all the questions,” you informed, flipping the book open. “You want me to read it out loud?”

You thought maybe offering to do most of the work would brighten his mood, but every time you looked over at him while you were reading, he was scrolling through his phone. He had a bored expression painted across his features, and it took him nearly a full minute to realize you’d stopped reading.

When he finally looked up at you, he gave a smile that you knew he thought was the most charming thing you’d ever seen.

You could hear a knock on the front door and Josh shuffling around in the living room.

“Have you been listening to any of this? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” You tried to keep your tone from sounding annoyed, but you knew you couldn’t hide it as well as you wished.

“I’d rather be doing anything else if I’m being honest.” There was not a single shred of an apology in his voice, and when you spoke again, you knew it would be even less put together.

“Why did you want to come over for a study session if you didn’t want to study?” It was less of a question and more of a scathing review of his character, or at least what you’d seen of it so far.

He frowned at you, looking a shade on the accusatory side for your liking. “I feel like you should have known what that actually meant.”

You could hear a conversation going on in the kitchen, and you silently wished you were out there instead. The longer you heard them talk, the more convinced you became that it was Jake, and you wondered if Josh invited him over on purpose, or if he just showed up.

“You said you thought I was good in class and that part of why you asked me out was so I could help you with classwork.”

He rolled his blue eyes. “Yeah, if I hadn’t, I can’t imagine you would have invited me over.”

You had your mouth open to snap a response, but somehow, his words hurt you. Not much, but just enough for your chest to feel tight, and not just from anger.

“Did you think you could manipulate me into having sex with you?” you asked quietly, your brows threaded close together in a frown.

He gave a long, bored-sounding sigh. “Don’t act like I’m a bad guy, here. Everyone does it. Give some fake compliments and then make your move, you know?”

For emphasis, he placed his hand on your thigh, a little too high up. It made your teeth clench, jaw tightened by rage.

“Don’t touch me. You should go,” you stated.

He huffed a sarcastic laugh as he inched his hand a bit further up your leg. He moved toward you until his face was nearing your neck. “Come on, what’s the big deal?”

Before you could stop yourself, you reached a hand out and slapped him across his face, your palm making contact with the hollow of his cheek. You hadn’t been expecting the crack of noise when you made contact; it ripped through the room, and out into the living area if you had to guess.

It took him a beat to realize what happened, but as soon as he did, he stood from your bed. You picked up his notebook and handed it to him, and he ripped it from your grasp, a dirty look on his features.

“You’re a cockteasing bitch,” he snapped, nursing the red spot on his cheek.

He was already halfway through the living room when you moved to stand in the doorway of your room.

“Fuck off,” you called through clenched teeth as he opened the front door and let himself out. When he was gone you realized that Josh and Jake were both looking at you with similar degrees of concern from where they were sat on the couch.

“What happened?” Josh asked, frowning up at you.

Embarrassed, you flicked your eyes over to Jake who had one eyebrow quirked up at you.

“Oh, you know. Just boys lying to me so they can fuck,” you snapped as you retreated to your room and closed the door. You instantly felt bad for being short with them, especially since Josh is just about the last person you could ever imagine being mean to, but you’d apologize later.

Right then, you were going to curl up in bed.

After a couple of hours, Jake left and you wondered how long it would take before Josh came in to bug you, but he didn’t. You listened for his footsteps coming toward your door, but you could hear him in the living room, turning the page of a book every now and again.

Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself - you threw the blankets off and stood. The stiffness in your muscles was a poor consolation prize for the day.

He looked up at you, shutting his book instantly, his homework caught between the pages.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. He patted the spot next to him on the couch. “I’m sorry your...thing went so poorly.”

You were too annoyed to care anymore, so you laid your head on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh. It surprised you when you felt a tear drip down your cheek and you could feel your face start to warm in response.

He heard you sniffle and his form stiffened immediately. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you tight to him.

“Did he hurt you?” It sounded like Josh’s throat was tight, making his words hoarse.

“No, he just,” You weren’t sure how to finish that. He hadn’t really hurt you, per se. “He just tried to touch me. And then he didn’t stop when I told him to.”

“What?” His tone was charmingly offended on your behalf.

“It’s okay,” you assured, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater. “I’m more angry than anything. I just kind of can’t believe I fell for that, you know? The whole ‘let’s study’ thing.”

“Stop that - it’s not your fault.” You could feel the hesitation as he laid his hand against your ear, but you leaned into it, grateful for the comfort.

It was quiet for a long moment while you calmed yourself down. His presence was more of a reassurance than anything else you could have imagined at the moment.

“You’re my best friend,” you breathed, turning to nuzzle your nose against the fabric of his sleeve. “And I’m lucky to have you.”

Through a smile, you heard him say, “Me too.”

#brightest blue fic #josh gvf fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fic #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #.0

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iwavibes · 4 years

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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ;; twelve

----haikyuu social media au

iwaizumi y/n, nekoma's second year manager, has always been in love with kozume kenma. in an attempt to get her to move on, her two best friends introduce her to the prettiest boys they know.

besides, the only way to move on is to actually move on, right?

prev • masterlist • next

NOTE: kinda don't like this chapter but it's the only one we've got KSKSKSK // 1/2 of the extra updates as a thank you for 100+ followers 💞

word count: 900+

"It looks like it's just us today." You say, lifting your head up to a very confused Akaashi.

"That's weird. Bokuto said they'll be here." He takes a bite off the onigiri in his hands, eyes trained on you.

"Apparently, Kenma is sick so Bo and Kuroo are taking care of him." You show him the text Kuroo sent you.

He nodded his head in understanding. "I hope he gets better soon."

"Do you want to go somewhere? We're here anyways."

Akaashi paused in thought. He didn't really know where he wanted to go, he was under the impression that Kuroo and Bokuto would just drag everyone to wherever they like like always do. Still, one place always came to mind as one of his favorite spots to go to.

"A book cafe?" You ask, the moment you entered the small secluded shop, the strong scent of coffee engulfing your senses in an instant. The walls were adorned with bookshelves and a variety of framed paintings.

"Is this okay? If you don't like it we can always walk around…" he suggested shyly, avoiding your gaze as he did so. You couldn't help but smile at his bashful appearance.

"No… I think it's great, really." You assure him. His lips stretched into a small smile and you hate to admit how attractive it made him look.

"That's good to hear…" he trailed off, "we should go find a table. I'll go buy our drinks. What will you have?"

"Chocolate Milk?"

He nodded his head before walking to the counter, that left you to look for a spot to sit. You chose one right at the edge of the cafe, near a bookshelf. You figured Akaashi would like to be somewhere near the books. And you were right, the smile that settled on his lips said a lot and also the way he hurriedly walked to the nearest shelf. You found it adorable.

You've never been here but it was very peaceful. A comforting type of quietness settles around the shop and everything just seemed to give off a very warm feeling. You liked the sweetness of your beverage and how it oddly matched with the lofi songs currently playing.

You hear the chair in front of you creak and your eyes fall to Akaashi. His hands held a dark red leather bound book. There was no title on it but you see the way his eyes trained on the pages as if he was soaking up every word the book displayed.

"Read to me." The words leave your lips before you could stop them. You flinched in surprise at your own voice, looking over to Akaashi whose cerulean eyes bore into yours. "If it's okay."

You seem him nod in reply, leaning closer to you as he recited the words. You found yourself staring at him, the syllables falling from his lips like a harmonious song, you could listen to it for a long time.

This went on for a few more moments with the two of you drinking your drinks from time to time until he finished. Your eyes never left his frame, not even when he read out the last paragraph in his melodic voice.

"We are nothing more than specks in the wind. Small dusts carried away by the breath of time. Our names will be forgotten eventually and the people we look up to will be nothing more than distant memories of the people who once knew them. But for once, in this insignificant life of mine, I want to be remembered. I want to be remembered by my smile, my laugh, my touch and my gaze. I want you to remember me." He lifted his focus from the page to your awaiting eyes.

"You have a really nice voice." You tell him. Akaashi's brain seemed to have stopped working at the sound of your compliment, his body tensing up a bit but not enough to be noticed by you.

"Thank you, y/n." He replied. He looked to the watch that hung on the wall behind you, the clock displaying that it was already almost 6PM. "It looks like we've been here for a long time."

You turned towards the window, seeing the sky already turning dark. You hummed, "looks like we did."

"Let me walk you home." He offered, already standing up from his seat. You chuckled before nodding your head, saying 'sure' under your breath.

The stars glowed brightly over the dark sky, a mish mash of constellations already peeking into view. Akaashi is very observant so when you suddenly grew quiet by looking at the stars, it didn't take long for him to notice. In his mind you must be disappointed with the day's events.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to do something you like." He spoke up, looking down on the ground.

You let out a small puff of air through your nose as if you expected this reaction. A genuine smile bloomed in your features as you slightly tug on his arm to look at you. "It's okay, Akaashi. I enjoyed this day with you."

He could feel his cheeks heat up at your words. If you asked him what his brain was like right now, he might say it looked like that one meme with all those mini SpongeBobs panicking because that's exactly how he feels; like his brain cells were scrambling all over the place.

He certainly didn't expect that. How could you look at him like that? What was that in your eyes? What was he feeling? He barely knew you before this, hell you never talked this much face to face until today, yet you've somehow sparked something within him. What it is, he doesn't know yet.

"I-I'm really happy to hear that, y/n." He stammers a bit, mostly because of his thoughts but also the way you still held on to him. It felt like a small fire on his side. A soft burn in the cold night.

"Thank you, Akaashi." You grin cheekily at him. "I'm kinda glad the others aren't here to be honest. Knowing Kuroo, we would've probably been kicked out." And then you finally let go, Akaashi's head seemed to have finally cleared as you did so.

Akaashi laughed, eyes crinkling into perfect crescents as his smile grew wider. It looked like his whole face glowed with it. You kinda liked the way it looked on him.

TAGLIST: @jesquisser @peteunderoos @rye-li @sophie-duck @elianetsantana @angrylittleriri @kpop-kk @winunk @mint-mai @applekenm ((can't tag)) @what-dose-nani-mean

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu socmed au #hq imagines #haikyuu smau #hq smau #haikyuu scenarios #kozume kenma #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto kotaro #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi imagine #hq akaashi

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years

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A Little Bit Of Love... Potion?

Prompt: "I promise I won't let him draw on your face with permanent marker." "Hmmm... So can I draw on his face with washable markers?" "No!"

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader, lots of Ron Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 4.6k

A/N - This was written for @firewhisky-kisses writing challenge. This is my second Harry Potter themed story ever since I only joined the fandom like two weeks ago (very much feeling like an outsider atm) so please don’t judge too harshly. I am still getting used to these characters and the wizarding world itself. I decided to write something a little lighthearted.

Warnings - Playful threats of violence

"I'm gonna kill him," You growl loudly as you storm into the common room in search of Hermione Granger. She was one of three people at Hogwarts you would consider your best friend. The others were Harry Potter; and the other you were about to murder for catching you off guard. You held a towel around the top of your head to conceal your worst nightmare. Stray Gryffindors were settled around the room doing one thing or another as the day was drawing to a close. Hermione was resting on an armchair by the fire utterly engrossed by the massive book in her hands.

"Who?" She doesn't even bother to look up as you approach.

"Ron obviously," You groan, grip tightening on the towel to stop it from slipping. "who else would go out of their way to annoy me."

An unamused sigh falls past her lips as she finally lowers her book. "Show me,"

"No, it's embarrassing." You protest. Looking around the room; you didn't speak to anyone else in here too often so what did it even matter what they thought.

"Well then I can't help you,"

You shift your weight uncomfortably before pulling the towel off in a dramatic reveal of your beautiful head. Hermione's eyes drift over you; struggling to hold back her amusement as she finally sees what happened. "It's... not so bad," She replies quietly, a melodic chuckle drifting into the air. "Bright."

"I look like a walking highlighter." You whine, taking a seat on the arm of her chair. "Fix it,"

Hermione whips out her wand and with a flick of her wrist you assume your hair has gone back to normal. She was too good of a witch for it to not have. Reaching for her book, you inspect the cover as you slide into her lap. Absentmindedly flipping through the pages with complete disregard for where she was up to. "Ronald Weasley is gonna regret ever messing with me,"

"It is not that bad," Hermione plucks the book from your grasp. "You did slip him Puking Pastilles the other day."

"That was funny though" A smile spreads over your lips at the memory of Ron throwing up in the great hall before charging out. “This isn’t”

"He threw up all over my shoes,"

"Gross," you laugh a little. "If it had been my shoes, it'd be a different story. What should I do to get back at him?"

"Leave him alone? Show you're the mature one and move on?"

"Don't be silly Hermione," Your head falls back against the plush fabric of the chair. "Why should I stop and not him? Maybe he should be the mature one."

"He won't stop unless you stop,"

"I could hex his broom at quidditch practice," You think out loud; chewing on the inside of your cheek. "Watch him fall on his face."

"Absolutely not. You're not putting him in the hospital wing over some silly prank war."

You gently roll your eyes. "We could-"

"There's no we," Hermione interrupts. "Please do not include me in your nonsense. I'm not helping you. Can you get off me?"

Sliding off her lap and onto the floor, you rest your head against her knee. "I'll think of something- don't you worry. He won't be getting away with this."

"At least do it quietly,"

You're quiet for the moment; going over different options while staring at a tower of books on the coffee table. Next to them say some parchment and a quill. "Are those yours? Can I borrow your quill?"

"Knock yourself out,"

You grab the feather and a piece of parchment paper and get to work laying out all your options to get back at Ron. Hermione would probably kill you if you hurt him so that rules out a fair few things. You could buy something at Zonko's but at this point he'd probably see those coming; you can only slip him sweets that make him sick so many times. Then again maybe it was just simple enough to work. You scribble it down on the parchment paper anyway. Next you add the nose biting teacup but that was rather impractical considering he hardly ever drank tea. Acid lollipops were an option, they would just burn a hole in his tongue but that could count as hurting him even if it was an easy fix.

"What are you writing?" Hermione wonders, you glance up to her and smile a little. "I assume you’re not studying all of a sudden."

"Nope," You hold up the paper for her. "I'm listing ways to get back at Ron."

"Of course you are," She takes your list. "Why don't you just buy a joke wand?"

"Boring," Jumping to your feet, you snatch the paper back. "I need to do something out of the box."

"Don't come to me when things go wrong," She insists softly, returning her attention to her book.

"Things won't go wrong," You declare proudly. You'd been doing this since your second year so you kind of have a knack for pulling pranks at this point. "Have a little faith in me."

It takes a day or two but thanks to Harry dragging you along to advanced potions class at the start of the year you decide the perfect way to get back at Ron is to make him fall in love with you. Well, a weird embarrassing obsession kind of love. Commence operation; practice your potion making by creating a love potion and tricking Ron into consuming it. Not only do you get to embarrass him but it can count as studying which will keep Hermione at bay. Not that you're going to tell her because Love potions of any kind are banned at Hogwarts and she'll just insist it's a bad idea. Now all you had to do was figure out how to actually make a love potion. Professor Slughorn has made one at the beginning of the year but you weren't actually taught how to make one nor do you actually remember much about class that day. Once you figured out how you could collect the ingredients and then trick Ron into drinking it. It shouldn't be too complicated.

Every free period following is spent huddled in the back of the library, searching through what felt like a mountains of books on potions. A good portion of what you read is just the history behind the potion itself and the dangers. It wasn't a potion that would cause him any harm so there was no need to worry. Eventually, you manage to create a checklist of ingredients that consisted of;

Ashwinder eggs

Rose thorns

Peppermint

Powdered Moonstone

Pearl Dust

Rose Petals

This joke was beginning to feel like more effort than it was worth but you were determined to see this through. Ron would never see this coming. After returning all your books to the shelves, you figure getting some help from Harry is the next step. The only place to get all the ingredients was from the potions classroom or the supply room. You couldn't just walk in and take stuff without seeming a little suspicious; you also weren't exactly Slughorn's favourite student. Everyone knew it was Harry. So your final option was to sneak around.

"Harry- wait up," You run up beside him as g walks through the courtyard. Rather surprised to find him alone considering your next class was with him and Ron.

"Hey,"

"Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Depends," He shrugs. You offer him a very gentle smile, fluttering your eyelashes a little. He wasn't exactly the type to say no to you but better safe than sorry.

"Can I borrow your invisibility cloak? I promise I'll return it tomorrow."

"What for?" Your stomach sinks a little at his question. You can't risk telling him in case he tells Ron which will ruin the surprise.

"I need some ingredients for a potion and I don't really feel like asking for permission," Telling half a truth is much easier than coming up with an entirely new lie. "Please? How many times have I broken the rules for you now and I would do it again."

"Professor Slughorn probably wouldn't mind if you just asked. What are you making anyway?"

"I just wanna do some late-night practice. I'm more of a do what I want then ask for forgiveness later kinda person so can I? Please?" Emphasis on the 'please' in hopes that it will somehow help your case.

"Sure,"

"Thank you," Looping your arm with his, you begin to practically drag the poor boy through the courtyard. You couldn't be late for class again. Snape would take any excuse to punish you. "let's get to class before we both end up in detention."

Thanks to Harry's cloak, you manage to collect every ingredient needed for your forbidden love potion and get to work. You wouldn't say potion making was your worst subject but it's definitely not your best either and it was showing. After a few attempts by candlelight in the early hours of the morning, you finally manage to create a love potion. Normally you'd test a potion before recklessly using it on unsuspecting friends but there was no time or way to do that without them catching on. The last step was simple, deliver all kinds of spiked candy to Ron Weasley and pretend like everything was normal.

Sitting in the great hall, you slowly lift spoonfuls of cereal into your mouth as you listen to Neville drone on about his dream; at least that's what you hope he's talking about. Last night had wiped you out; your body was exhausted. You could just about keep your eyes open and all you wanted to do was go back to bed. Hermione was sat directly across from you, very delicately buttering a piece of wholemeal toast.

"I don't think it means anything, you're just thinking too much into," Hermione explains to Neville. You just shrug your shoulders; you hadn't really been paying attention anyway but you manage to perk up a little as Harry plops down beside you.

"What time do you call this Potter?" You scold, bumping your shoulder playfully against his.

"And where's Ron?" Hermione continues.

"He should be here soon enough. He's just taking extra care getting ready."

"Why?"

"He's trying to impress someone," Harry reaches for a bowl of fresh fruit.

"Oh do tell," An aura of giddiness envelops your words as if you don't expect the answer to be yourself. There was a chance he hasn't taken the bait yet and he just genuinely had a crush.

"I promised I wouldn't,"

"Come on, Harry. We won't tell."

"He's never mentioned liking anyone before," Hermione adds to the conversation, biting into her toast with a crunch.

"I don't know- ask him." As if summoned on cue, The redhead appears beside Hermione. He doesn't seem any different other than the smile and distant look in his eyes. Not to mention, he may have combed his hair? You couldn't be sure though.

"Did you sleep in again," She pauses for a second, her brows knitting together in a frown. "And is that... cologne I smell?"

Ron doesn't answer, he just looks at you with the expression of someone hopelessly entranced. It's a little weird but you take it as a compliment on your potion-making skills. "You alright there Ron?"

"Perfectly fine," He nods.

"Are you gonna eat something? We have class soon?"

"I'm not hungry,"

"Not hungry?" The volume of Hermione's voice catches you off guard. "When have you ever not been hungry, Ronald?"

"First time for everything Hermione," You take a sip of your water. All eyes were on Ron but he couldn't tear his away from you; that dopey grin never quite fading away. Was this how it was supposed to work? You had never seen it in action before. "I'll see you all at lunch " You announce, rising from the table. "I forgot my quill again this morning and I can't keep pretending I remember the stuff I'm being taught."

"How many classes do you have today?" Harry calls out before you can leave. You'd think he'd know your schedule by now. "I was thinking we could practice some potions later?"

"She has two," Hermione answers for you.

"Today pretty quiet for me usually but I have a study session later with Luna. She's helping me in care of magical creatures sorry," You flash a tight smile. "Maybe next time."

You had one class this morning and then one straight after lunch. Your free periods were supposed to be spent studying considering you were taking five N.E.W.T classes but you've never been one to study when you don't have to. Thinking on it, you probably could have studied with Harry in your free period before lunch but you think he has class then. The morning class is over before you know it and you're heading back to your dorm for a well-deserved nap when you practically crash into a none other than a Weasley.

"Watch where you're going, Ron."

His expression immediately brightens and he stands a little taller. "Oh, it's you, hey."

"Hello," Ron was a pretty awkward guy on the best of days but this felt weirder. A small, awkward smile settles on your lips. "Don't you have a class right now?"

"Mhmm," He nods but doesn't move nor continue talking.

"Ooookay then, well... I'm gonna go." You slide by him and scamper away. "I'll see you in a little bit."

When you imagined him under the influence of a love potion you expected less creepy staring but maybe he was just working his way up to it.

After a very short nap, that kept getting interrupted you're sat in the great hall waiting for classes to end and lunch to officially begin. There were a decent amount of students, all doing their own thing. Meanwhile the Gryffindor table was practically empty other than Dean, who was sat at an angle on the other side of the table and a couple of seventh years. You'd gotten so bored while pretending to study that Dean had suggested playing a game; this is the third match to decide who comes out on top as the Hangman champion of this free period. Three letters in and none of them had been right. The wooden frame was already drawn and waiting for the stickman to be hung

"S?" You guess.

His head shakes as he draws a wonky circle to start the stickman's fate. "Sorry."

"... I maybe?"

"Finally you got one.," it was a ten letter word and he filled in the second and eighth letters With I's.

"Can you give me like a hint?"

"I'm not gonna help you beat me," Dean replies. "Hey, Harry,"

"Harry!" You greet brightly, turning to find him towering over you. "We're playing hangman, do you wanna join? I'm about to win."

"No, you're not-"

"Did you do something to Ron?" Harry cuts of Dean. You swallow hard. Busted... or maybe not. Your brow furrows as you focus on the curled edge of the parchment you had been playing on.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything, I've been with Dean for like the last hour."

"He just seems very interested in you all of a sudden. I thought it was a one-time thing this morning but I've had to suffer through two classes of him talking about how cute and dreamy you are."

"Ron has a crush on her?" Dean's tone was rather playful.

"Maybe he just realised how cool I am," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "H?"

"Where is Ron anyway?" Dean adds the letter H to the begging of the word. You still have no clue what the word is but thankfully your two other friends finally appear just in time to interrupt. You'd rather draw by forfeit then lose altogether. Ron nearly shoves Hermione out of the way just to sit down next to you.

"I missed you this morning,"

"Missed you too Ron," You pat him twice on the cheek.

"What did you do to him?" Hermione's eyes narrow in on you.

"Who?"

"Ron obviously," She huffs. "I bumped into in the hallway and he said he couldn't wait to see you."

"As his friend, I'm happy he's excited to see me," You counter, resting your head on his shoulder. "At least someone at this table appreciates how cool I am."

"You're awesome," Ron wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight side-hug "I think I may be in love,"

Dean giggles to himself but Hermione is anything but amused. "For goodness sake, you can't be serious?"

"I'm very serious," He fights back, sounding almost offended but such an accusation. "In fact," a wave of regret washes over you as Ron gets up and climbs onto the bench in front of the now rather busy great hall. "I'm in love with-" you sink down as he shouts your name for everyone to hear. Mean snickers and playful giggles follow. You reach for his hand, tugging on his arm gently as to not hurt him.

"Sit down," you spit through gritted teeth. Heat rushing to your cheeks as if him announcing his love to everyone wasn't embarrassing enough already

You try to enjoy lunch as much as possible with Ron attached to your side. Hermione was relatively quiet but her harsh glare was enough to put you off starting anything with her. And so you mostly spoke to Harry and finished your game with Dean. The word was Hippogriff which you managed to guess before the final leg finished off the stickman. Thankfully, your next class provided a nice escape from Ron. However it couldn't stop the sly comments in the hallways and mean laughter. This joke was very quickly becoming anything but funny.

This continued into the next day, you were regretting spiking so much candy. Not to mention Hermione hadn't spoken to you since lunch yesterday and you couldn't figure out why exactly. Normally she gets a little annoyed at your silly jokes with Ron but she seemed really mad at you. And considering you share a dorm room, things were feeling very tense, to say the least.

Managing to slip away from Ron long enough for a quick conversation, you find your fellow Gryffindor sat alone having an early breakfast. "I said I wouldn't help you,"

"Huh?" You hadn't even asked her anything yet or sat down for that matter but at least she's talking to you again.

"You want my help right?" She meets your gaze as you take a seat. "What did you do?"

"I actually wanted to know what was wrong?" Which was very much true. "You seemed... upset yesterday. I don't like it when you're mad at me."

"Judging by the way he was all over you yesterday my guess is It was a love potion correct?" you're impressed that she managed to guess and so quickly too. "A strong one at that. That is the only way to explain him suddenly being in love with you."

"I'm offended that you don't think Ron could like me that way," The words came a little more defensively than intended. "am I really that bad?"

Hermione's face morphs through a sea of emotions finally settling on looking a little disheartened. You wonder what's going on in her pretty little head. "It's not that I don't think he could like you that way- maybe he does and that would be fine. You're..." She seems hesitant to continue, her head falling. "amazing. Just that's not what this is."

"You're right," You confirm, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice. "Like always. I slipped him a love potion thinking it would be funny and now it's not."

"How can you be so reckless," Compared she seemed so delicate just moments ago, she quickly bounces back to scold you. "You know they're not allowed at school."

"Worth it," A small chuckle bubbles up from your throat. It had been a little funny and definitely embarrassing plus you got to test your skills so you weren't inherently regretting your decision. You just wish the effects would fade already. "I didn't learn the antidote and I'm not spending hours in the library again."

"It'll wear off soon enough, how much did you give him."

"I made like... a cauldron full but I don't know how much he consumed."

"So it's my understanding that you idiotically gave him a lot?"

Words mumbled by your juice, you nod to convey your answer.

"Then it'll take a while to wear off."

Ron slides up beside you, taking you by surprise. The juice comes back up in sputtering coughs. "Speak— of— the devil."

"Good morning my beautiful angel," Even you cringe at that one. Harry takes a seat on your left side. "Did you sleep well?"

"You should know, you were watching me this morning," Ron pulls you closer to him. When you awoke this morning, not only was Hermione already gone but it had been quite the surprise to find Ron had snook into the girl's dorms to be with you.

"You're so adorable when you're sleeping."

"If you'll excuse me, I can only handle so much nauseating sweetness," Hermione takes one sympathetic look at you and then scurries away like she can't handle being here any longer. Something was definitely off with her. Today was gonna be a long day...

How you longed for the weekend to come early as each class tortured you with new knowledge that had to be burnt into your brain. It didn't help that Ron was getting increasingly annoying; it was like he was incapable of being alone. After the school day finally ended, you retired to the common room; both the boys joined you. Harry was complaining about how much work he's been assigned from one class while Ron seemed happy to just be near you in any compacity. Which right now meant having his arm around you.

"Here," Hermione interrupts, dropping a plugged vial onto your lap.

"What is it?"

"An antidote." She was biting back an insult or an 'I told you so', you couldn't be sure but there was a hint of aggression behind her words.

"Drink this," Before you even have time to process, Harry is shoving the vial towards Ron.

"What is it?"

"I think you should try it," Ron doesn't even question the request when it comes from you. He takes the vial and downs it in one. An unsure look is shared between you and Hermione but sure enough, Ron's goofy grin begins to fade.

"What the bloody hell happened?"

"I slipped you a love potion and you became obsessed with me." You answer. "It was funny at first but then you announced you were In love with me to the whole school."

"You think a love potion is the same as a comb that changes your hair?" The boy sank into the seat cushion, finally removing his arm from around your shoulders. "I don’t feel so good."

"He needs something to perk him up," Hermione states. If she knew that, she should have come prepared.

"He has candy hidden in his draws"

"Yeah... it's probably best if he gets rid of all that," You admit, getting up. "Wait here,"

It was only fair you provided something so you grab the last chocolate bar you had from your dorm room. "You shouldn't have messed with my hair." You declare, handing over the chocolate with an almost sad smile.

"Now you two can hopefully put this silly war to bed."

"Not likely," Your voice syncs with Ron's, and with it comes a genuine smile. It was nice he was back to normal.

"I have to get back at her."

"And how will you do that Weasley?" You drop back down next to him.

"I think I'll go back to the good old fashioned permanent marker while you sleep."

"Why would you tell me in advance?"

"Because you don't know when I'm gonna do it." He declares with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So now you'll be on edge waiting for it to happen."

In this situation, the equivalent to snitching to a teacher to prevent something from happening was to tell the only one opposed to this whole situation entirely. "Hermione tell him. You had no problem insisting I be the bigger person."

She simply rolls her eyes before turning to Weasley. "Ronald, Consider not retaliating especially with a permanent marker before one of you," she glances towards you; rightful so. "Goes too far."

"she started it," He protests, "I didn't sip her a love potion."

"You better not come anywhere near me with marker pens."

"Sometimes I think I'm talking to myself." And with that, she wonders off

"I'm watching you, Weasley," Now, you were going to have to keep a very close eye on him to assure you didn't wake up with a fake mustache or something. Jumping up you chase after Hermione.

"Thanks for helping." You fall into step with her. "I'd be lost without you."

"I know,"

"Wow. Modest." You mumble sarcastically before falling silent; unsure of how to approach the next question. "Do you like Ron by any chance?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you like Ron?" You repeat. It was the only explanation you could come up with over why she would be so angry the last couple of days. "You seemed really upset since he's been all over me so I thought maybe it was like jealousy or something."

"Don't be ridiculous," She fires back. "I don't like Ron."

"I never imagined you two together but I think you'd be sweet," You comment, intentionally trying to get a rise out of her. Hermione sighs loudly as she comes to a stop.

"Ron is one of my best friends but I don't like him in that way," From a few steps away, you turn back to her. She's clutching a few books tightly against her chest, refusing to look at you. "I swear that I don't."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," She shrugs pathetically. "I just saw him all over you and I didn't like it. You're never normally like that together and he kept pushing me aside to get to you."

"I'm not following," You're honestly more confused than before.

She approaches you slowly, still unable to meet your gaze but her lips very softly connect with your cheek. "I promise I won't let him draw on your face with permanent marker."

Her words spark a lightbulb. You've never done a double prank but perhaps now would be a good chance. You could do it to him before he gets the chance to do it to you.

"Hmmm... So can I draw on his face with washable markers?"

With a heavy sigh, she simply states her favourite word "No!"

"But-"

"No." Hermione continues walking and you're left watching her.

"Hey," You call out. "Do you wanna head down to Hogsmeade tomorrow? I'll buy you a butterbeer to say thank you."

"You just want to visit the joke shop, don't you?"

"Desperately," She always could see right through you. "But still. I want to go- just you and me."

"I would like that," She finally meets your gaze and she looks happier now. The almost set sun, casting her in such a warm, welcoming glow. Hermione was a hard girl to figure out but that's what made her so interesting. "I was hoping to get a new quill anyway."

#Hermione Granger x reader #ron weasley x reader #harry potter #Hermione x reader #hermione granger #ron weasley #harry potter fanfiction #stephs200challenge

368 notes · View notes

staticscreenwriting · 4 years

Text

California Summer - B.H. Smut [two]

Synopsis: Kings Cove California is Billy Hargrove’s hometown. It’s also a popular summer vacation destination for rich couples and their spoiled kids. (Y/N) is one of those rich girls. Proper, sweet, innocent. Only that all bores her to death and Billy is just the adventure she’s been looking for. It’s all fun and games. A summer fling. Not strings attached. Right?

Inspired by the song “Young & Dumb” by Cigarettes After Sex.

Part 1

A/N: There is smut in this, babes. Please if that is not for you, don’t read it. Also do not interact if you’re under 18, that’s just not cool. Kay, thanks ♥

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

The air is hot and sweltering on Tuesday. A blue sky filled with thick grey clouds. There’s a sizzling in the air. A promise of rain. A promise of a storm.

Billy steps out of his car and onto the white gravel driveway of the (Y/L/N)’s holiday estate. It’s a grand house. These people are rich and they want you to know it. Nothing is subtle or modest. It wants to be seen, to be stared at, to be wanted. This house demands your attention. Thinking about it, Billy thinks it’s fitting that (Y/N) lives here. She too, demands people’s attention. Undivided.

He steps up to the door, his black polo shirt proudly displaying the “ Franklin and Company cleaning and maintenance service” logo in his right chest. Mr Franklin said company uniforms are a good way to increase the team spirit. Billy suspects it’s just another way for those rich assholes to further distance themselves from peasants like him.

The doorbell chimes up in some melodic little tune. Even the god damn doorbell is over the top. A deep disdain settles inside Billy’s bones, takes residence in his heart. He wonders if those people truly know what suffering means. He wonders if financial stability and a luxurious lifestyle can soften the blow of a heartache. Wonder if he’d still be this bitter, if his heart would still feel this heavy, if he was the one living in a house like this.

When the door swings open, Billy is greeted by Mr. (Y/L/N) and his smile that’s just too big. There’s a certain size a smile should have and his smile exceeds that size. It’s unsettling. With his bright white teeth and the moustache, he looks like some kind of cheesy 60s Batman villain.

“ Hi, Billy. Good to see you. So here’s the thing — “ he then starts to proceed a dramatic monologue about the broken filter system of their pool. Billy only half listens, his mind wandering through the halls of this mansion. He wonders if she’s home. Wonders what her room looks like. Wonders if she can still feel his lips on hers. Taste him. Feel him inside her.

As they walk through the main living room, Billy’s eyes fall onto a picture on the mantlepiece of their elaborate fireplace. (Y/N) smiles brightly back at him from the photograph, draped in a long white dress and long opera gloves. It almost looks like a wedding gown only she looks way too young in this picture and there’s no husband to be seen. She smiles so big, so radiant but there’s something in her eyes. The same riddle he’s tried to figure out that day he picked her up in the rain. A kind of sadness that is both so familiar, and so foreign to him.

“ Joan and I are gonna be out all day but if you need anything, my daughter (Y/N) should be around. She’s a nice girl, I’m sure she’ll be pleased to lend you a hand. “

Billy has to stop himself from choking on his own spit. If only this man knew what his girl gets up to when dad’s not looking.

“ Alright, that’s fine. “

“ Good. Good. Now if you’ll excuse me. “

“ Sure, yeah. Have a good day.”

Mr. (Y/L/N) walks back towards the entrance hall, this house has a goddamn entrance hall. A second later his wife steps up next to him, big floppy hat on her head, fancy-looking silk scarf around her neck. That one probably cost more than Billy pays in rent every month.

The way the interact makes him feel uneasy. There’s no affection there, no kindness. It all is very stoic and structured and empty. He wonders if rich people are all this hollow, if it comes with the territory. If maybe there are certain expectations put on you when you’re loaded and to fulfil those you have to lose part of yourself in the process.

“ Bunny, we’re off “ (Y/N)’s father yells up the stairs to be met with her voice calling down a disgruntled “okay” a few seconds later.

Bunny. They call her bunny. This day is getting better and better. With a smirk on his face, Billy grabs his tools and drags himself out towards the pool into the hot California sun.

The filter is fixed in a matter of minutes, then he cleans the pool, mows the lawn, scraps dirt out of the rain gutter. All while the hot sun is beating down on him, burning his skin and making him sweat. What he wouldn’t give for a bit of rain or a dip in the ocean.

Just as he’s packing up his tools, a loud banging sound from the inside catches Billy’s attention, followed by a string of curses. There’s no doubt in his mind it’s her. Her voice still fresh on his mind as she whispers dirty words into his ears while he dreams.

Rounding the corner, he catches sight of her, sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, rubbing her knee and contorting her face in a display of pain.

“ Are you okay? “

“ Yeah, just tried taking two steps at once and uh — didn’t go so well, “ (Y/N) replies as she gets up and dusts herself off.

Whenever Billy thinks of her, his mind always wanders back to that first night he caught sight of her. Her flowy skirt, the flower in her hair, the too big denim jacket. Something about her then looked almost ethereal. Like she didn’t belong with anyone around her. Like she didn’t belong to this place. To this earth.

Looking at her now, Billy almost can’t believe it’s the same person. She’s wearing cut off jeans shorts, socks with that frilly lace stuff stick out from her beat-up tennis shoes and the I ♥ New York shirt that’s draped over her body is at least two sizes too big and has no doubt seen a few years pass already.

“ Look at you, Mr. Polo shirt! “

“ Stop! “

“ It’s cute! “

“ It’s company policy.”

“ Aw no, does it limit your freedom for self-expression? “

“ Why are you taking the piss? I saw the picture on the fireplace. Cute wedding dress. Prom? “

(Y/N) does that thing that’s neither a scoff nor a laugh and yet both at once. She walks up to the fireplace and takes the frame in her hands. There it is again, the sadness in her eyes. Even though she’s smirking there’s a fundamental sadness so deeply engrained in her beautiful eyes that Billy almost regrets having mentioned the photo.

“ Not prom, goof. My cotillion”

“ Your what now? “

“ My debutante ball. It’s a formal presentation of young women to introduce them into society. “

“ Sounds like a cattle auction to me. “

This time she fully scoffs, no laughter or smirk anywhere in sight. “ You might have a point.”

“ So what they like, offered you or — “

It’s such a strange concept, Billy isn’t even able to wrap his head around it. A formal presentation of young women already sounds wrong. Just thinking about her being paraded around leaves a sour taste on his tongue.

“ Kinda yeah. I mean it’s nothing sexual or anything but uh — well. There’s a bunch of girls in matching dresses who all get introduced individually. They put a real emphasis on who your parents are so people are immediately aware your family is loaded. Then the dad’s guide the girls across the stage and hand them over to the escort. Usually, an equally rich male around the same age who’d be a wonderful addition to the family. Then there’s this specific curtsy every debutante has to perform …”

“ Are you fucking with me right now? “

“ Absolutely not. It’s a real big deal. They have a serious committee and everything.”

“ Well you look miserable in that picture. “

“ Oh I was. I didn’t wanna do it in the first place and then my dad also told me that I couldn’t have my boyfriend at the time be my escort because apparently he wasn't good enough or his family wasn't prestigious enough. I really liked that boy too. I was so sad. “

“ Why’d you do it then? “

“ Well all my friends did it and then dad also pulled the mom card so — “

As those words fall from her lips, her eye glass over a little, as if she just started dreaming or let her mind wander someplace else. Billy always felt like it was weird, the way he observes people, the way he notices things. But when you grow up in a house that’s so loud and so angry, you start to notice the quiet things. It’s a survival instinct. Noticing the little things can save your life.

“ The mom card?”

“ Yeah. Said my mom always wanted to see me as a debutante. Said I should do it to honor her memory. Even had her own cotillion dress shipped in from my grandparents place to use the fabric for mine. “

Dead mother. There it is. One little puzzle piece to slide into place. A step in the right direction in figuring out the riddle that’s her mind. Dead mother. It’s not a pain he knows but one he can imagine. His own mother was the best person he knew, an angel in his eyes. He loved her more than he ever loved another person. Then she left and ripped his heart straight from his chest. Maybe he doesn’t know what it’s like losing your mother to death but he does know what it feels like having a mother one day and then not having one the next and feeling so terribly alone in the world.

“ So Joan’s not — “

“ She’s my mother too. Mom died when I was 6, dad and Joan married when I was 10. She’s been in my life not longer than my mother was. I love her so much but I also miss my actual mom. “

He doesn’t know what make the words fall from his mouth so easily, as if they don’t weight a million tons on his heart. But something tells him that he can be honest with her. Maybe it’s a certain comfort that two people can only find in shared pain.

“ My mom fucked off when I was 9. Just up and left, to be with some guy she’d met at her job as a waitress. A fucking dentist of all people. Haven’t seen her since. “

“ Fuck, that sucks. “

“ Yeah it’s whatever.” Billy shrugs. It’s not whatever and they both know it but it’s one thing to tell her about his mother, it’s another to open up his entire chest and let her see all the cracks in his heart. That’s a vulnerability he’s not willing to show her.

“ Well this is turning into a gloom-fest, huh. Do you wanna get outta here and do something? “

He really does. The heaviness on his heart feels suffocating. Like someone is squeezing his chest, breaking ribs in the process.

“ Sure. What’s your plan?”

“ No plan. How about the beach? “

Billy smiles at her suggestion. “ Sounds good. “

“ Man, your car is clean. I didn’t even notice the first time. “ (Y/N) remarks as the drive along the sleepy town of Kings Cove. The windows are rolled down and a soft wind sweeps through them, making (Y/N) hair fly around her face. Her feet are kicked up on the dashboard and her red lips are pulled into a teasing smirk.

“ It’s my baby, I like it when she’s clean. “

“ She? “

“ Mmh.”

“ Does she have a name? “

“ No. You wanna make a suggestion?”

“ Hmmm how about — (Y/N) ?”

“ That’s your name. “

“ It’s a good name !”

“ Not naming my car after you.” Billy chuckles.

“ Okay. How about Lilly? “

Billy shrugs. Honestly, he has no interest in naming his car but if it makes her happy, he might as well entertain the thought. “Sure, fine with me.”

She’s quiet for a moment before she speaks up again. “ You wanna know what Lilly needs? “

“ No. “

“ Some decor. Some personality. Like some dice hanging from the mirror or — or a dashboard dancer. Like a hula girl. “

“ Absolutely not. “

(Y/N) gasps “ I know! A dancing Elvis. You know the ones! You need one of those. “

Billy has to wince at the thought of a cheap plastic figure vaguely resembling Elvis stuck to his front window so it can dance on the dashboard.

“ Or I could not do that. I like my car the way it is. Thank you very much. “

(Y/N) just smiles and maybe that’s enough for right now. There are more secrets hidden in the corner of her lips, in the glint of her eyes, in the way the sun falls on her face. But those can stay there for right now. All that matter in that moment is the cheesy Don Henley song playing from the stereo and the red of her fingernails tapping along to the beat and the way life feels weightless then.

“ This is so beautiful. “ (Y/N)’s words are hardly louder than a whisper. Her voice is overtaken by a peaceful sense of awe and admiration. Her bare feet are buried into the still warm sand as the sky around them shines in hues of pinks and oranges.

“ I can’t believe you get to see this every day of your life. You can just decide you want to watch the sunset over the ocean and do it. “

Billy shrugs as if it’s nothing when in reality he knows exactly how much this really means. Living in Hawkins, away from the ocean and his home and his heart, it made him realise how much he really loves this place. How his heart will forever be bound to the sea and the waves and the freedom it gives him.

“ I guess it’s pretty cool. “

“ You guess? Billy this is — this is spectacular. Sitting here and just taking it all in makes me feel fearless and invincible and brave. Like the world is so big and vast and there’s so much still for me to discover and experience and I can actually do it. “

“ What’s stopping you ? You got all the money in the world. “

He wonders if she can hear the spark of resentment that his voice carries. Billy doesn’t put it there on purpose, it’s just something so deeply edged into his genetics it’s hard to get rid off. Life’s hard for everyone, he knows that. The logical part of his brain does. But being financially stable surely helps soften the blow.

“ Not if you ask my parents. They’re just waiting for me to find a suitable husband whos family is at least as rich as mine if not richer. Then settle down in a nice big house, pop out a few kids — be miserable forever. “

He doesn’t know what to say to that. There’s a certain familiarity in her words. Billy knows exactly what it feels like being stuck in a situation that makes you miserable and to feel like you will never get out of it. Even though both their situations couldn’t be more different, there’s a shared sense of captivity.

“ I’m sorry, I’m being a huge whiny bitch about this. Poor rich girl with her rich girl problems. “

Though her words are meant to sound airy and light, they are all but that. There’s a heaviness to them. A sincerity.

“ Don’t be stupid. This is your future. Your life. You get to bitch about it. If not about that then what about? “

Billy succeeds in making her crack a smile. A small success in the grand scheme of things, but a success nonetheless.

“ What would you wanna do? If your parents had no say in it ? “

Her sight settles on the setting sun, her chest heaves with big breaths. As if she’s trying to catch the moment in her lungs and keep it there forever.

“ Last year I started studying photography in New York. My parents thought I was working an internship at a family friend’s firm. I wasn’t. When they found out they made me drop out and come back home. That’s why I wasn’t around last year. That’s what I wanna do. But my parents they are — my dad grew up during a time when art wasn’t a career that could really put food on the table. He’s a businessman, a hard worker. He sees numbers before anything else. And I don’t think he’s doing this to be mean or anything. It’s just what he knows. Dreams were not something he could chase and survive it. It was eat or dream. I think he wants to spare me that life. I just wish he would take the time to even as much as look at my pictures. They’re good. “

“ You should show me some. “

To be quite honest, it’s not about the pictures. Billy has never been a particularly artsy person nor does he care for photography. But this is important to her, this is where her heart is. No one has ever believe in him, he knows the empty feeling that comes with that realisation. If he can be the one person to show her that her dreams and her talent matter, then it’s worth it.

“ Yeah? “

“ Sure, why not? “

“ Alright, I will. Think I can mix in some naughty ones. “

Billy raises his eyebrow. “Oh really? “

“ Mmmh.”

Her lips don’t taste like slurpee this time. They taste like summer heat and salt and warmth. A little like cigarette smoke and mint chewing gum.

Her fingers tangle in his locks, tugging deliciously as her tongue curls around his. It’s softer than the kisses in his kitchen, not fueled by lust but by a shared comfort in each other.

“ What was that for? “ he asks as they pull away, far enough to talk to each other but close enough to breath in each other’s air.

“ For listening. And for — caring.”

Billy’s lips decent back on hers, then her cheek, her neck. Her skin feels soft and warm underneath him. He can feel her pulse quickening as he softly sucks at the delicate spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

“ You can’t leave hickeys!”

“ Why not? “ he murmures against her.

“ Got this thing at the country club in a few days. My dress doesn’t have a turtleneck. Dad’s gonna kill me if he sees it. “

Of course her family frequents the country club the town over, it’s so fitting. Billy’s been there a few times, tending to their greenery and fixing stuff. It brings good money and he got to eat their for free which was nice. But looking at all the rich people in their fancy clothes drinking champagne by the pool was — strange. Johnny works there as a waiter part time and always has the most ridiculous but funny stories to tell.

“ Aw, daddy’s little girl not allowed to kiss boys? “ Billy mocks, not making any attempt at moving his lips away from her neck until she nudges him off and pushes him down onto the warm sand.

“ Oh I do more than just kiss them. “ (Y/N)’s voice is laced with lust and passion and sultriness.

Soft warm kisses wander down his neck, as her hands leave trails up and down his stomach underneath his shirt. In a swift motion she pushes the fabric up, to pepper gentle kisses on his chest, his stomach, down to the edge of his pants.

Billy can feel the blood rushing through him, can feel the adrenaline flowing through his veins. A tingling sensation builds up. Is there anything better than a girl sucking you off with the sun setting over the ocean in the background? Not really, he’s fairly sure about that.

(Y/N) hands fumble with the zipper of his jeans before she pulls them down just enough for his dick to pop out.

The way she looks up at him, eyes filled with a mixture of mischief and innocence. The way she bites her lip in anticipation — it kills him. This is his day of reckoning. This is the end and god does he love it.

Billy is fully aware of what's happening as she swirls her tongue around the head of his dick but his mind is swimming, his heart is pounding. Maybe it’s her or maybe it’s the moment, he doesn’t know. All he does know is that sometimes life can be real fucking sweet. Especially when your cock’s soft and warm in a pretty girl’s mouth.

She hollows her cheeks, goes fast then slow, moves her hand along her lips in a perfect rhythm of pure lust. It’s wet and warm and tight and perfect.

An alternating pattern of kitten licks and deep strokes drive him crazy. She swallows around him like the goddamn patron saint of sucking cock, takes him so deep he’s fairly sure they should grant her some award for it.

When he feels the tidal wave of passion crash onto him and pull him under, drown him in ecstasy, he buries his fingers into her hair, pulls her closer, moves his hip faster — fucks her mouth. And she moans, every once in a while looking up at him with those eyes — those damn beautiful eyes. And there’s a smirk playing on her lips, around his dick, every once in a while. She enjoys this too and that’s what sends him over the edge.

Billy cums just as the sun sets behind the horizon, that one moment when the world is pure gold. He doesn’t see that though, doesn’t realise. All he sees is her eyes and her smile and the way she wipes her lips and all the riddles he wants to solve that live in her heart and all the things he wants to explore with her.

“ You’re welcome.” she says and giggle as she crawls back up to lay beside him, propped up on her elbows, eyes set on the horizon.

“ Uh-huh. “ Billy’s mind is still hazy, words can hardly form least of all make sense.

“ I can’t believe you get this view every day. “

He’s not sure whether she’s talking to him or to herself, maybe a little of both. What he’s sure of though, is that his view is much nice right now. Her, free and wild and — beautiful, sitting and watching as the world turns pink and orange and gold for one last time before nightfall.

It’s quiet for a moment as they catch their breath, as she takes it all in and Billy tries to shake off the fogginess in his brain. It’s quiet and peaceful and safe and comfortable.

And then she speaks up again.

“ You should come to the country club thing. “

And his heart sinks because — absolutely fucking not.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines

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btssmutficslovingfan01 · 4 years

Text

Friendly Encounters- Chapter One

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Fluff

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Domestic Yoonmin, fluff, Jimin is literally too good for this world, barista boys, swearing, mild language, lots of character development, realistic insecurities, Jungkook makes a bad decision.

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 6k+

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔(𝓈): Jimin x Yoongi x Reader

Masterlist

Author Note: This story is available on my archiveofourown as well so go check it out!

⇤Prev | Next⇥

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“Do it.” Your friend pushes you towards the incredibly adorable busboy as he passes by your table.

“No, it’s stupid.”

“Y/N, I dared you. Now you have to do it.” You roll your eyes.

“That’s not even how dares work.” You lay back in your chair, eyes drifting over to the two handsome men who now stand talking at the cash register.

“Okay, fine, if you can’t have a conversation, at least get his number! I’ll go for that cute barista over there with the sleepy eyes.” How can eyes be sleepy? You shrug as she confidently strides to the counter to order another drink. Jasmine has always been the type of girl to tell people what she’s feeling in the heat of the moment. You had no idea where she got her confidence from, it just happened one fine summer day in sixth grade.

You’ve been best friends ever since you moved into the house across the street, along with Jaehyun and Jungkook. They are the non-identical twins that go to your school and the four of you were a group all through middle school. Things changed after highschool, Jae started hanging out with the wrong crowd and he moved out after saving up some drug money.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is still a sweetheart, protecting you and Jasmine as if you were his sisters. Sometimes you wonder how you even became friends with this meth-head of a girl, but then you realize you’re the same, you both are crackheads and that’s why you’re best friends. You sometimes doubt your friendship when she tries to push you out of your comfort zone. You hate opening up to people, and Jasmine knows it.

Yet, she still tries pushing you towards trying new things and being more extroverted. Your mind is already buzzing with a million different ways this can go wrong, but you’re surprised when the waiter approaches you with a smile on his face. I wonder if he’s truly happy or putting on a fake smile for the customers. You think to yourself. Sometimes you like to look at people and try putting together a life story for them. It helps your creative juices flow, as an amateur writer.

“Can I get you anything else?” He asks with a refreshingly soft voice for a man. You’re a bit taken aback by his melodic tone, and how freaking adorable he sounds with his Korean accent. You can’t tell what dialect it is, because his English flows very well.

“Actually…” You look over at Jasmine, who gives you a thumbs up as she sips her Pink Drink. “Can I have your number?” The man’s eyes widen momentarily and his gaze flickers up to the barista at the counter.

“Oh...Miss I’m very flattered but...see that man over there?” You turn around and face the barista who is busy on his phone at the moment.

“The sleepy-eyed one?” You ask, knowing full well where this is going.

“Yeah, him. Um, that’s my boyfriend.” Your smile falters for a moment but you feel a sudden sense of relief. You were afraid he would actually flirt back and possibly be a douchebag but he is exactly what you hoped he would be. A decent person who won’t cheat on his partner.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Your reaction makes him raise his eyebrows. Normally girls would sigh or be sad that he’s taken/gay, but you’re the first one who’s ever reacted like that. “I mean, sorry. My friend just forced me to ask for your number because she wants me to make friends and step out of my comfort zone, and now I’m...sorry just nevermind.” You trail off, cutting off your pointless rambling as the busboy wipes your table slightly.

“Hm, you’re interesting. You know what, just for that attempt, I am going to give you my number.” He winks at you, sliding you a piece of paper. Did he always have that paper with him? You laugh as he walks away and Jasmine bolts back to your table, excited to hear the juicy details.

“You did it!” She screeches, making half of the people whip their heads around to stare at you. You blush and sink in your seat when you see the adorable busboy speaking to his boyfriend. Just when you’re about to tell Jasmine what happened, you see the sleepy-eyed man look at you with a glare. You bite your teeth and suck in your cheeks as Jasmine starts talking about her encounter.

“Too bad, though. The sleepy dude just waved me away saying he already has a boyfriend.” She folds her arms. You stretch your legs, yawning a bit as you listen to your friend. “What? Am I boring you? Anyways, tell me what happened with the cute blue haired dude!” You giggle to yourself as your friend expected something more out of the interaction.

“Jasmine, he’s gay. And they’re-” You gesture to the two men talking behind the counter. “Together.” Jasmine sighs. You simply shake your head, flipping your hair to one side.

“Well, I guess my luck with men hasn’t changed. But at least they’re cute.” You giggle as your best friend sighs dramatically and then you move onto discussing other topics, like school.

Just as you’re about to exit the café, you realize that you didn’t ask the cute busboy for his name. During the whole five minutes that you talked to him, you didn’t even introduce yourself?! Great job, Y/N. You turn around, reaching for the piece of paper in your pocket to find that he indeed did write his name down for you. Jimin. What a beautiful name for a beautiful boy.

As you climb into the jeep that Jasmine’s parents bought for her 16th birthday, her phone rings, and she turns to you, puffing out her chest. You wiggle your eyebrows at her and then you both laugh after the awkward moment.

“It’s Jungkook.” She throws her phone at you, switching back to her “serious” persona.

“Whoa, what happened between you two for you to act this way?” You give Jasmine the stink eye as she caves under your pressure. She’s acting weird—weirder than usual.

“Nothing, just...ugh.” She clicks her seatbelt in and starts backing out of the parking lot.

“Jasmine, if you don’t tell me I’m gonna jump out the window. And we both know I’m not bluffing because I’m actually really short and this window is huge.” Her eyes widen in panic and her hands start shaking on the steering wheel.

“You see…..um ....Jungkook and I may or may not have gone all the way after a deep conversation about relationships.” I gawk at her, unable to process her words.

Sure JK is a flirt, but he never would’ve moved past touching, seeing how he’s practically scared of girls. There was even a point in your middle school lives where Jasmine believed he was gay and started calling him her “gbf.” Yeah, that wasn’t greatly received by your homophobic class of 2020.

“Bitch, you did not.” You slap the dashboard, shaking your head in disbelief. You can see guilt written all over her face but what’s worse is the fact that you had a crush on him for the longest time and she had no clue about it.

It’s not her fault, but sex can change a lot of things for different people. And you know despite whatever bullshit Jasmine tells you about it being a ‘one-time thing no feelings involved’ type deal, you know things are going to change between you, Jasmine, and Jungkook.

You don’t know how anyone will react, since you’ve never been in this situation before. You just know that your best friend, without even knowing it, broke your heart in two. Including Jungkook’s, who is probably crying by himself at the moment.

Your silence is enough to shut her up, as she stops talking mid-sentence and plays an EXO song on her phone, hooked up to the lavish quality stereo system which is connected to her fancy Jeep Wrangler, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine but you assume that’s from your gut, twisting in disgust planning for revenge with Jasmine. She has no regard for feelings when it comes to sex, and you’re more worried about your other best friend at the moment.

“Drop me off at JK’s place.” Your command makes her flinch, and then her eyes widen when she digests what you said.

“You aren’t going to tell him that I told you, are you?”

“Of course I’m gonna talk to him about it! While you’re over here thinking about how to end your friendship, that boy is probably breaking down in tears right now, or worse, binge eating and watching soapy K-dramas all alone!”

You slam her car door shut, stepping out with your red converse basking in the sunlight. It’s so bright out today, a little bit chilly but otherwise nice. Too bad Jungkook’s having a rainy day. You knock on his door, and his brother opens the door.

“Hey baby. Wanna join me and my buddie-”

“Yeah, nice to see you too Jaehyun, is Jungkook home?” You ask, pushing past him and his stoner pals on the couch.

“He’s upstairs.” There’s not much that needs to be said when you walk into his room.

As expected, he’s lying in his bed, blankets wrapped around his entire body, forming a cocoon of some sort as he distracts himself from the real world, again. It’s like every breakup ever, as you have seen him do all sorts of crazy shit while being heartbroken. He’s dated so many people, but none of them were his close friends. This time, it’s different, and you can tell he’s hurting more.

“Did you see Jasmine?” Is the first thing he asks when he sees you.

“I was with her earlier and she told me some stuff happened between you guys. And now I’m here for you. Tell me what you need.” Jungkook slowly rises, and you can see his hair standing straight up from the static, and his normally bright eyes are colored red from crying, his cheeks are red and puffy, and he looks exhausted. Drained, in fact.

“I made a mistake. I started kissing her first, it was like the time after my breakup with Madi-” He cuts himself off. You shiver, beginning to remember his touch. You hadn’t slept with him, not in a sexual context, anyway. He only kissed you, and his hands slid down the small of your back, tracing circles with his thumbs. You can feel the strange sensation creeping up on you, and then it hits you like a wave.

Jungkook is no longer the little boy that you once knew. He’s a grown man, and he can take care of you if you let him. But, you’re not that type of person. You would never take advantage of him, especially when he’s so vulnerable. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let it get in the way of our friendship, but after that night I knew we could never be just friends.” You take his clammy hands in your soft ones, kissing his fingers gently as tears threaten to spill from his eyes again.

“It’s okay, let it out.” You spend a good chunk of your time cuddling with him, and for a moment you imagine what life would be like if you actually started dating, but alas, he is too in love with your best friend. That’s how life is for you, you’ll always be a side character in a love story, and when it comes to love, guys always pick Jasmine. Guys talk to you because they see that you are friends with Jasmine. Girls invite you to sleepovers to ask you what you know about Jasmine, and worst of all, she stole multiple crushes from under your nose. But they were never truly yours to begin with.

After arriving at your house after a long day spent consoling Jungkook, youlop down on your bed, scrolling through some texts.

༻• The Next Day, at Your Local Highschool •༺

“Jungkookie, are you feeling any better?” You make your way to your best friend but then you overhear him speaking to some people.

“Oh yeah, she was the best in bed, don’t let her tough smart-girl act fool you, she was amazing, so submissive for me.” You hoped they were talking about someone else, but when you stick your head past the lockers, checking for a split second, you see that it was none other than your sensitive friend who was speaking to a group of younger males.

“Wow, you’re so cool, Hyung. I thought Y/N was the hardest girl to pin down.” Wait, what?! You resist the urge to storm out, eavesdropping a bit longer to see if you misheard things.

“Yeah boys, she came to me while I was playing Overwatch in my room and then she offered. Just straight up asked if I could fuck her.” You slam your fist against a locker and then you clench your teeth, about to confront him when the bell rings.

It’s 5th period. You don’t have a class because you have a release period. You instinctively check your phone, making sure you didn’t miss any important texts or calls before running out. You don’t know who to trust, or who to go to, as you lost your two best friends within the span of less than 24 hours. People suck.

Then you get a text, as you park your car in front of the coffee shop.

You don’t text back, hoping to surprise him. You forgot to ask him about his work hours but you assumed he worked part-time everyday or something. As you walk up to the counter, you see him standing there, with a bright smile on his lips and crescent-shaped eyes.

“Ah, what a surprise! Hello, valued customer.” His playful attitude is enough to light up your day.

“Hey Jimin. Sorry for dropping in but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, c-can we talk?” You stutter, not realizing you were slurring your words together. Jimin nods, obviously worried about his new friend.

“What happened yesterday?” He takes you to the back of the café, an area where there are less people and you have more privacy.

“You know the friend that was here with me yesterday?” He nods, allowing you to grip his hand and squeeze it for comfort. He’s a really kind person, letting you open up to him without judgement. “She slept with another good friend of mine and ghosted him. And yesterday I went to his house and we talked about it and he cried on my shoulder, but today…”

You feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “...He was talking about what a good lay I was, lying about sleeping with me to a group of underclassmen.”

Your breathing is uneven as Jimin stares directly at you, keeping his gaze strictly on you. You feel naked, exposed, and vulnerable. But his reassuring smile makes you feel a little bit better. Just a little bit.

“Hey, break’s over, get out there.” You see the same man from yesterday, the guy who Jimin claimed was his boyfriend. He looks like the polar opposite of your mellow friend, with a darker aura radiating from him.

You feel like a deer under a lion’s gaze, as he closes in on you, backing you into your corner, making you feel even more vulnerable than before.

You only hoped he wouldn’t try to chase you away, as yesterday he gave you a very uncouth glare, displaying his annoyance with your friendship with Jimin.

You hope with time he will be able to accept you and possibly become a friend of yours as well, but for now, you can only run with your tail tucked between your legs. Just as you’d been running away from your so-called best friends in school.

You were even considering running to Jaehyun and trying one of his edibles, since he had offered a generous amount of times; it would only be courteous of you to finally accept and try it, as you’d been hearing “don’t try it, don’t try it,” your whole life.

You don’t care anymore, and hopefully under Jimin’s wing you will be able to learn about true friendship.

“Aren’t you the girl who asked for Jimin’s number yesterday?” His surprisingly solemn tone catches you off guard, as his eyes tell another story. Maybe that’s just the way he is, physically a very intimidating person but on the inside he might be a fluffy kitten! Okay, maybe not a total kitten, but still squishy. Why else would Jimin date him? He has to be a decent person, unlike all the people you called your friends.

“I am, thanks for noticing. Is there anything you wanted to tell me?” You try to sound as non-threatening as possible, holding your breath, waiting for an answer. You hoped Yoongi didn’t see you as a boyfriend-stealer, nor a generally annoying person.

“No, just wanted to ask you if you need anything else, an iced coffee, some tea...pink lemonade?” His lame attempt at cheering you up makes you crack a smile after a while.

“Maybe some water? I’m a little bit thirsty.”

“Coming right up,” After filling up a glass with water, he slides into the seat across from you, whipping out his phone and humming a tune of a familiar song you recognized from the radio. “I’m on break. This time of the day, things get a bit slow.” You nod in understanding, respectfully keeping your legs crossed and your arms folded in your lap, not wanting to show any sign of weakness.

“What song are you listening to?” You ask, hoping to make some small talk.

“Uncomfortable by Chase Atlantic. It’s my go-to after a stressful day.” You shift in your seat when you hear that name. You absolutely adore that band, and the lead singer’s vocals are absolutely heavenly. You could go on for hours, but you don’t want him to know that yet.

“Oh, that’s...cool I guess.” You try not to jump

up and down in joy as that’s a lesser known band and not very many people know about them.

“Do you know this song?” He leans forward, sliding you his phone and showing you the cover of an old album, one you recognize to be “Don’t Try This,” and the song is GREENGREENGREEN. Their song titles are a bit questionable, but they are true works of art, so you can let it pass.

“I suppose I’ve heard it once or twice…” You trail off, watching how the curve of his smooth lips turn upwards, and carefully, you watch how he mouths the words.

“All I see is green yuh

Moving on your seat yuh yuh yuh

All I see is green, All I see is green, All I see is green.” You smirk, slowly singing the next part.

“It's green where the grass grows

Let the cash flow

You can keep your head high, keep that ass low,” You laugh, the man across from you grinning at how weirdly you sang the lyrics.

You and Yoongi continue listening to Chase Atlantic songs together late into the evening hours. It’s around seven in the evening and the air is cool and humid.

“You have amazing taste in music, I’ve never met anyone else who listens to Chase Atlantic with such passion! Jimin’s an Alec Benjamin person but I always tell him they have similar music styles…” He trails off suddenly, worrying you with the pace of his cutoff. “Listen, I had a lot of fun talking to you. And at first I really didn’t get why Jimin wanted to get to know you better but now I see what he saw. You’re cool, Y/N.” You’re more surprised he remembered your name.

“Thanks Yoongi.” You share a moment of silence, just smiling at each other as Jimin makes his way back to your table.

“It’s time for me to clock out, we’re closing soon.” He slides into the seat across from you, next to Yoongi, and you watch as Yoongi expertly sneaks his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder, and you feel small fireworks bursting in your heart. It’s not a weird feeling of jealousy, per say, but rather you feel mellow. You like seeing them together. You like this.

“Feels like just yesterday I walked in here and you gave me black coffee instead of an iced vanilla mocha because you were distracted by my sexiness.” Jimin girlishly flips his hair, and the three of you share a laugh before the lights start flickering.

“What’s going on?”

“Looks like there’s something wrong with the power. Jin!!! Did you mess with the electrical again?!” Yoongi runs back inside the kitchen, making sure everything is fine.

“We’re good, just a minor fix,” you hear the voice of another man from inside. You and Jimin exchange worried looks as the lights stay on for a total of 1.032342352 seconds and then they just turn off completely.

“Dammit, stupid thunderstorm outside caused a power outage through town.” You heard Yoongi cursing from the kitchen before he opened the door and stumbled outside back to you.

“Well, when are the lights gonna come back on?” You ask, clutching onto the table as you sink back on the wooden surface.

“News reports say power lines are under service and will be back in function in an hour.” Jimin shows you the article, making you shiver from the thought of spending the night at the café. You most probably won’t have to do that, since your car is right outside and you can just drive home. But do you really want to face your neighbors after a really tough day of school? No. Your bets are that they will probably try to infiltrate your home, failing are trying to “make it up to you.” You’ve lost any trust you had in them before, Jungkook and Jasmine really screwed up this time.

“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Jimin sounds steady, but you can faintly see the outline of his striped shirt and how his muscles contract as he shivers right in front of you. You admire him for putting up the dauntless act, but it doesn’t help as the sound of his teeth clashing give it all away.

“Here, take my jacket. I’m not that cold.” You offer him your coat and he hesitantly slips it over his shoulders. He doesn’t wear it, afraid of stretching out the expensive material and risking threat or wearing it out.

“Thanks.”

“Hey guys, can you come in here please? We need help with the door.” You and Jimin carefully make your way to the pantry, which is at a door at the end of the kitchen. You’d never been inside one in a restaurant, but you assumed it was the same as your school. The kitchen was the darkest room, but thanks to the dim lighting from Jimin’s phone, you safely arrived at the end of the path.

“What are you doing now?” You see a second man, taller than Yoongi and Jimin combined, holding a large box.

“We’re just taking this inside. This stuff is smelly, so we make sure they stay sealed in the pantry until we need them,” The older man has a charming smile, and you can already tell he is a gentleman. He looks a little bit older than you, but you can tell by his mannerisms that he’s a bit older. “And hi, I’m Jin.” He introduces himself, winking at you as he walks past, with Yoongi rolling his eyes at the lame flirting attempt. You thought it was cute.

“Coming through! Move over babe.” Yoongi warns Jimin, who holds the door open while you watch over his shoulder, making sure he doesn’t fall back. Not that you will be of any help.

“Oh crap, I think I forgot something in the kitchen!” You and Jimin make your way into the pantry, shrugging at the way Jin quickly left his post.

“So...what’s exactly in the box?” Your curiosity seems to know no limits as you keep asking questions, over and over again. Yoongi and Jimin, however, find it amusing.

“Vinaigrette. All the same type, same brand.” Yoongi dusts his hands and walks back to the closed door, wrapping his fingers around the cool metal knob before turning it….to find that it doesn’t open.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Jimin asks, wrapping your jacket around him more tightly. You sigh at his adorable pout. But of course, you try to ignore their moment, focusing on your phone instead. Your battery is at 8% already, and you need to save as much power as you can. However, you also need to distract yourself.

“It won’t open.” You stand up. You’ve hated small spaces since you were a little girl and you refuse to get stuck in a food pantry with two insanely attractive men. What if you run out of oxygen? It’s not them, it’s you.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Yoongi notices your mini panic attack, as you pant heavily, now looking for some sort of opening to crawl through. You need to escape.

“I need to get out!” You shudder as the dim lighting of your phone suddenly disappears. Your phone just died. What the fuck are you going to do now?!

“We’re fine, we just need to call Jin,” Yoongi knocks on the door, and you all stay quiet to hear any feedback. What you didn’t know was that Jin had gone out to run errands and he wouldn’t be back until much later.

“Let me text him.” Luckily, Jimin’s phone has enough power to send one text. Jin replies quickly, telling Jimin that he’ll be back in half an hour, maybe even later because of the horrible weather.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck here for awhile.” Yoongi sits down on the floor first, making himself comfortable between two flour bags. You and Jimin make yourselves comfortable on the floor, shrugging as you snuggle into some things but the lights are off so you have no idea where you’re sitting. Your eyes are adjusted to the darkness, so you can see the faint outlines in the pitch darkness.

Then you think of all the things that happened today. How you overheard Jungkook telling people lies, and how heartlessly Jasmine let go of him (even though he partially deserved it), and all of the lies and betrayal. Jasmine has cheated on a lot of her past boyfriends, but for some reason you thought she would treat Jungkook differently. And Jungkook just cares about fitting in. You wish you could forget it all and go back to being friends, but you are just so, so sad. They broke your heart. You don’t know if you can trust anyone else ever again. You silently sob, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

But your stupid sniffles give you away.

“Are you..crying?” Jimin asks after a long silence.

“No…” You wipe your tears and turn to his voice.

“Tell us what’s wrong.” Yoongi’s warmth creates an almost suffocating feeling in the air as your breathing falters and you feel very disconnected from your environment. You can’t even tell if your eyes are open or not because of how long you’ve been trapped. It’s driving you mad. The only thing keeping you sane are the two men sitting in front of you...or behind you. You can’t tell anymore.

“I just want my friends back. And I want to believe that everything will be alright but lately...everything’s been horrible! Life just keeps throwing one obstacle after another and I just want to believe that everything will be okay but it isn’t! My best friend slept with my other best friend and now everything’s weird between the three of us, and my other friend decided to tell everyone that we’re screwing. I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! Everything is spiraling out of control and I can’t do shit,” You breathe heavily and silence follows, as the boys allow you to catch your breath, not inputting anything just yet. “Thanks for letting me rant. I just needed to let that out, I guess.” You bite your bottom lip, and you can smell the anticipation in the air as the boys wait for their turn to speak.

Oh wow, now you’ve robbed them of their words. Aren’t you the best friend ever.

“Can I say something?” Jimin waits for a moment before dictating his thoughts, “It sounds like you were just thrown into a random mess that had nothing to do with you directly.” He says, earning a cough from Yoongi. Luckily, the sleepy-eyed man is kind enough to cough in his sleeve (ugh corona) and he says, “I agree with Jimin. And that guy sounds like a bitch boy. I’m pretty sure he’s one of those coconut headed e-boy wannabes. Or just a plain fuckboy.” You scrunch your nose. “Jungkook isn’t like that.”

“Oh, with a name like that he’s bound to have a talent. Maybe he dances really well? Lemme guess, he’s a really good singer but is as shy as a goat.” You didn’t know goats were shy. Yoongi seems knowledgeable, so you don’t question him.

“He’s a good singer, alright, but he wants to be a progamer when he graduates.” You reveal it to them, all of a sudden going off on a tangent about your childhood crush and best friend.

“It sounds like you guys are close,” Jimin whispers in a hushed voice, so quietly that you almost miss him. “And from what I can tell, he’s insecure and wants people to think he’s cool. So he used you, as stupid as it was, I think he’s worth fighting for.” You feel a sudden lightness in your chest, like you just confessed something you felt guilty about. It’s as if he’s in your head, and he understands exactly what you’re going through.

“Jimin and I actually got together because of a misunderstanding in the first place, if he hadn’t fought for us, who knows where he might’ve ended up?” You can’t see what Jimin does exactly, but you assume that his face is scrunched up into a cute cringe of sorts, anything that man does is adorable.

“My parents would’ve forced me to become a pastor. They aren’t exactly the most open-minded people...coming out to them was the hardest thing I ever did. And luckily, Yoongi was with me all through the process after they disowned me and threw me out of the house. I guess I lost my biological family but I ended up with something even better.” You feel your lips turn upward, the first feeling you’ve experienced since sadness. You feel hopeful, and happy that the two men can freely be together without judgement from those around them.

You feel slightly jealous as well, since their relationship worked out and yours with Jungkook are in shambles. Maybe it’s not too late to fix this, but seeing as he hadn’t even sent you as much as a “Good morning” text, you decided it was better to leave him alone for now. The darkness is not only making you blind; it’s making you unempathetic. You do feel a bit of fear though, as the sense of not knowing what else might be in here with you is overwhelming and you literally want to curl into a ball and cry. “Your breathing is heavy again...are you okay?” Yoongi’s voice soothes you as you slowly recover from the mini-panic attack. You don’t know if you can take it anymore.

“Sorry, I’m just a little claustrophobic.” You hear some shifting as Yoongi makes himself more comfortable.

“Oh shit, I forgot about Jin,” Jimin pulls out his phone, as it vibrates with a text. Your vision is blurry, but you can see his face with the help of the dim light from his device. “Jin said he’s running late in traffic. We might be stuck for a little longer.” You snap, reaching for the closest thing to you, standing up on your two wobbly legs.

“I can’t do this! I’m going crazy, I need to get out! Anything...away….can’t breathe!” You start taking deep breaths, slightly embarrassed at showing the two boys you barely know your weak side. Of course, they are absolute sweethearts about it.

“Honja jjujeo anja

Saenggag man keojyeoga

Eonjebuteo neon nal apeuge haessdeonga

Neo jochado moreujanha,” He slowly makes his way behind you, snaking his arms around your shoulders in a very intimate manner.

“Neodo apeujanha 'cause you’re mine

I just want to blow your mind

Ireohge neon tto meoleojyeo man ganeunde,” You close your eyes and sink into his embrace, swaying in a movement that could only be described as heaven. His voice is heaven.

“I want you to be your light, baby

You should be your light

Deoneun apeuji anhge

Nega useul su issge

I want you to be your night, baby

You could be your night

Ibami neoege soljighal su issge…” He trails off, leaving you feeling speechless from listening to his honey-like voice. The song is also new, something you’ve never heard. You clap, astounded by his vocals.

“That was amazing!!! Thank you so much for doing that.” You can almost picture the cute blush on his cheeks as you praise him, but you aren’t going to let him know that.

“No problem.” As you both share a moment, Yoongi finds a supposed way out.

“Look, there’s a duct back here. Should one of us go through and see if they can let the others out?” You and Jimin share a look of suspicion but you volunteer anyways.

“I guess I’ll do it. Seems logical.” You get to your hands and feet, and Jimin gives you his phone, tenderly. There’s a gentleness in his eyes and through the blinding light of the flashlight on his phone, you could see his pupils dilate slightly. For a moment, it’s just you and him, as the rest of the world fades to black. You snap out of your daze when Yoongi coughs into his arm again, and you prepare to crawl into a dusty duct that’s been closed for decades.

You eventually find an exit, and you’re surprised at how long Jimin’s battery life was. It was only at 49%, despite him using his phone for half the time you were together. He must’ve charged it to the full 100%. You find a screw loose on another duct, opening it with ease and slipping into the kitchen. And then when you shine your flashlight, you realize your location.

You quickly run to the locked door and find that opening it from the outside is a piece of cake. The two men are thankful, but they still complain about the power. Jimin texts Jin that all of you got out, and he just tells you to go home.

The time is about 9:41, 2 hours later than you’d hoped to go home. Nonetheless, you had fun spilling your heart to these two wonderful men. You’ve never felt so close with a pair of strangers, but you can tell these two will become an important part of your life very soon.

༻• At your House •༺

“Where were you?” Your mother yells as you walk through the door, and you put your bag on the floor, flopping face down on the couch.

“I was at a café but then there was a power outage and I got stuck in a food pantry.” You nonchalantly tilt your head upwards at your mom, as her look of anger changes into one of worry.

“How did you get out?” She asks, bringing you a cheese sandwich. You plug in your phone upside down, but it’s okay because you can see the logo pop up after a minute.

“I crawled through a duct. It was fun but dusty. Oh, sorry for not texting you. My phone died.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Y/N...is there something you’re not telling me?” You fold your arms, whining like a baby. “Was there someone else with you?” You nod, not wanting to tell your mom in detail. “Okay, I’m not gonna ask any more questions. But earlier Jungkook came by, he wanted to talk to you in person. After he left, Jasmine dropped by an hour ago, saying she wanted to see you too. Did something happen between the three of you?” You sigh, turning right-side up on the couch, resting your head on your mother’s shoulder.

“Mom, can I please just go to bed? I don’t feel so good.” Instead of pestering you to tell her, she complies with your wishes, leaving you alone to go into the kitchen.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I started renting the top floor of our house to two nice young men. They’ll stay with us, and we can get money.” You raise your eyebrows at her, not believing her fully. Your mom was never the type of person to do that. You had suggested it in the past, but she had never fully gone through with plans before. Especially big ones.

“And why did you agree to it?”

“Because they are so charming, Y/N, when I put the ad up, they immediately responded, saying that they’d do all the housework and help cook, and take care of the house as if it was theirs, even though they are paying to stay in one room.” You grab your backpack and make your way upstairs. After finishing your nighttime routine, you tuck yourself in and retire for the night.

You wake up with the sudden urge to pee. So, you run to the bathroom only to find a very unexpected sight. The same man with the crescent shaped eyes when he smiles is standing in your bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“J-Jimin?” He turns his head, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I live here!”

“Me too!” Dear God, what has your mother done?

#jimin #yoongi #jungkook #reader #cafeau #barista #bts #yoonmin #yoonmin x reader #Poly #fluff #cute #high school

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roscoeobrien · 4 years

Text

No Control With You | Stiles Stilinski

Author: @roscoeobrien

Pairing: stiles stilinski x fem!reader

Summary: in which stiles stilinski’s girlfriend receives the bite after a terrible turn of events and begins to ignore him. when confronting her about it, he soon learns the truth and the reason why.

Warning: light swearing, hinting of smut- but nothing actually happens and i guess the mention of mates/mating along with angst and fluff near the end? idk? i’m bad at this.

Prompt: “I read that when you cuddle a pillow you’re missing human affection, so maybe you can cuddle me?”

A/N: this is for @stiles-o-dylan24 and her writing challenge for hitting 1k! if you’re reading this, i hope you like it and know you’re very talented and your writings is one of the first things i ever read on tumblr. you really helped inspire me to be brave and write my own stuff in the first place and i’m so sorry you even have to read this bad imagine because you deserve better. i have also read over this a few times but there may still be mistakes so i am so sorry for that in return xx

Words: 6933 ( i don’t have anything to say other than i am so, terribly, sorry )

Stiles’ leg bounced anxiously as he waited for Scott to walk out of the dreaded hospital room he had been in for what seemed now like an eternity, his clammy hands clasped in front of his mouth. His cheeks glistened from the salty tears still falling from his bloodshot eyes, the only sound he made being the quivering of his sharp/shaky breaths and the sniffles his nose forced out.

It had only been an hour or so since he had been holding your body- your bloody body- close to his chest, hearing his frantic heartbeat even with your human hearing thudding rapidly with panic against your ear as the pack made a break for the hospital to hand you in Melissa’s care. Your wound was black when you had arrived with little time left so it seemed, your voice weakly fading out into nothingness as you cried out his name, the sound causing Stiles a deep, mental pain.

How could I have let this happen? Was the question the teenage boy kept asking himself over and over again like a broken record, his brown eyes casting to the hall he hoped Scott would come running down any second now. This whole situation felt like a dream- more like a nightmare- that he desperately wanted to wake up from.

Many of his friends tried to comfort him, offering him their gentle touch and consoling words. It all fell at death ears, however, for they weren’t what he needed most in that moment. In that moment, all he needed was her and to know she was okay.

“Stiles,” Scott jogging down the hospital hallway to the awaiting pack brought everyone out of their own wandering minds with all the tragic outcomes which were close to becoming a reality so it seemed, specifically eyeing his best friend as his steps faltered.

The boy called was up on his feet in an instant, his hands feeling sweaty as he begged with his crystalised, honey-brown eyes. Please be alright. He prayed, feeling the tears swell in his eyes once more.

“She’s awake. It worked . . . the bite worked.” Scott released in the tense air, staring at his friend with his dark eyes holding the expression of stunned amazement as the rest of the pack released noises of what could only be described as relief. “Her eyes . . . they’re red. She-She’s an alpha, Stiles”

That statement should’ve stunned the boy, cueing his mouth to spill with an endless interrogation of how and why . . . but it did not. In fact, Stiles Stilinski remained stone cold.

His heart was thudding loudly in his chest, pounding his ears as he felt small breathes escape his dry pink lips. His mind felt like it was going one hundred miles around him as it focused on the fact that she was awake. Her body had accepted the bite. She was breathing, she was healthy . . . he could hold her in his arms again.

She was going to be okay.

“(Y/N)!” Scott’s foot nudging yours under the lunch table you and your friends were currently sat at in the school cafeteria gained your attention, snapping you out of your daydream to the present. Your firey gaze met his, the boy shooting you a wide-eyed look. “Your eyes are shifting! Calm down.”

“Yeah, you’re hurting your sandwich.” Malia chipped in with her usual deadpan expression, pointing to the now crushed sandwich suffering the consequences of your mighty grip.

With a weak growl, you closed your eyes and shook your head in hopes it would make your red alpha eyes go away. Thankfully, it worked and no one saw anything except your group of supernatural associates . . . but that didn’t make your anger dissolve in the slightest.

“Who does she think she is?” You snarled bitterly, glaring at a blonde-haired girl you shared a few classes with across the cafeteria. You hoped your stare alone would make her combust! Sadly, it did not. “She isn’t fooling anyone with that short skirt and bold makeup.”

Lydia took one stab at her salad as she rolled her eyes and released a scoff. “You’re just saying that because she’s talking to Stiles.”

Your werewolf hearing allowed you to hear the mentioned boy’s melodic laugh, the sound washing over you like a sweet heat wave as you bit your lip. This was beginning to get unbearable.

“You know, he’s been really worried about you.” Scott informed, shooting you a sad look which you adverted your eyes too. You already knew what he was going to say. “All he wants is to talk to you, (Y/N).”

“You don’t understand, Scott.” You grumbled under your breath, watching the hazel-eyed boy adoringly across the room. You admired his side profile and the way his cupid-shaped lips curled up in a polite smile. He was so enchanting, even from the beginning of your relationship . . . but now he was becoming irresistible to you. “Things are different now.”

“Oh come on, Stiles.” Your ears ringed with the head aching voice of the blonde as she advanced towards the Stilinski boy, her hand reaching out to caress his forearm lightly. She let out a little giggle. “Just one date. You won’t regret it.”

“That’s very sweet, Heather, but I-”

“He’s busy.” Stiles’ eyes lit up at the sound of your sudden voice, a small smile coming into place when he turned round to see you standing now right beside him. He took notice of your serious state, your arms crossed over your chest defensively with a glare.

“Oh, well,” the girl, Heather, gave you a short glance of snide before her attention was set back on Stiles. She let out a short, flirtatious giggle once more in a second attempt as she played with her hair. “maybe some other time then. I’d love to see you around sometime, Stiles.”

The teen opened his mouth to politely answer back, only to be cut off by your scoff. “Yeah, I don’t think you will.” You rolled your (Y/E/C) eyes at the girl, a bored look taking place.

When Heather scoffed and strutted away from the pair of you, Stiles turned to give you a friendly smile . . . only to see you now walking away from him quickly. The Stilinski boy jogged up to you as fast as he could, his hand gently finding its way into yours. “Hey,” his soft voice and touch made you whirl round in alert, feeling your body react. “It feels like forever since we’ve last spoken. I’ve missed you.”

“Well . . . umm.” You were quick to draw your hand away, biting your lip as you felt it rise. In an attempt to hide it from the boy, you scratched the back of your neck as a distraction. “I’ve been busy.” Lie.

“Well, when do you think you’re gonna be free next?” Stiles sweetly asked, tilting his head as he reached forwards to tuck a strand of stray hair back behind your ear. “I was wondering when we can have another one of our movie binging date nights.”

A lump grew thick in your throat, all instincts inside you screaming to be let out . . . but you had to hold back. You couldn’t do that to Stiles. You had to get away.

“I don’t know, Stiles.” You instantly felt a guilt claw at your stomach with the way the mentioned boy’s face fell. Her mind mentally shamed her, but she stuck to her gut. She had to remind herself again why she was doing all of this, why she couldn’t give in . . . no matter how much she wanted to. “It’s kinda complicated at the moment.”

“Oh,” Stiles’ eyebrows raised in question, his face edging closer to yours. You leaned back slightly, hoping that it would help keep yourself at bay. It didn’t, leaving you to suffer as Stiles innocently tilted his head. This boy. “Anything I can help with?”

You began to immediately feel warmth, releasing a deep breath you didn’t even realise you were holding until you stepped away from him some more with a shake of the head. “N-No. Nothing.” You denied, your breathing now hollow, feeling the sweat beginning to build up on your face.

“(Y/N),” Stiles noticed the weird behaviour setting in, taking a few steps closer until his hand gently came to rest on your forearm. Little did he know, he was making the problem way worse. “are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You gritted your teeth as your eyes closed, fearing what may soon appear beneath your eyelids. The temperature only seemed to rise within you when a familiar hand was delicately set on your forehead, your eyes widening as a rugged sound weakly escaped you.

“Babe, you’re burning up!” The amber-toned eyes of your boyfriend’s went wide with a sudden surprise, unable to hear the curses you let out under your breath at the realisation as his concern wafted through your nostrils.

A low growl tore through your throat as a sudden need surged through you, causing your arm to throw itself forwards before you could even stop to think. With your fingers now gripping onto the fabric of his plaid shirt, Stiles was suddenly brought closer to you until your noses bumped.

The deep breaths emitting from your lips made Stiles rendered speechless, unable to take his gaze off of your eyes. There was something different about them- and he wasn’t even talking about your wolf eyes which were yet to make an appearance. Something was hidden behind your (Y/E/C) irises, something that made your eyeballs darken as the teen found himself getting almost entranced in them.

“(Y/N)!” Scott was suddenly by your side, practically ripping you away from his best friend. You fought the grasp at first, everything around you sounding muffled as the Filipino muttered a short excuse/apology to the boy before he dragged you further away from the only thing your brain could focus on: Stiles Stilinski.

The thoughts raging through your mind only faltered when your alpha friend had placed you into the closest room; which happened to be a classroom, thankfully, not in use.

Once released, you grasped desperately at the wooden desk to support yourself in the act of getting back into focus. How could you have made such a fool of yourself, (Y/N)? You scolded, gritting your teeth as a growl was set free.

Scott, who had been watching you with careful eyes, turned his gaze sorrowful as he sighed and approached when you slumped against the back of the desk to rest. “Fighting it and running away won’t change a thing. I don’t know why you’re pushing it to the limit.”

“Shut up!” You bit back, ducking your head lower as you began to feel only the slightest bit at ease. This didn’t disperse the anger you held for yourself however.

“You need to tell him, (Y/N).” Scott protests strongly, his stance becoming more stern as his gaze felt like fire seizing your skin. “Things will only get harder going forward. You understand that, don’t you?”

When his words fell upon death ears, Scott knew it was pointless even trying to get an answer out of you. He didn’t blame you, of course not, he just wished you wouldn’t make this situation more hard for yourself; for Stiles.

And when he walked out of the classroom, he could hear your cries of annoyance filled with raging emotions he pitied you for. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath. This doesn’t feel right. He thought, clutching his fists as he exhaled. He had to do something, and although he knew he’d get shit for it later . . . he knew he couldn’t leave it like this. He couldn’t leave them like this.

The sound of Scott’s voicemail coming through the speakers of your nearly dead phone for the seventh time that night made you let out a noise of defeat, sighing up to the pouring sky causing you to be drenched head to toe from above.

After the fellow werewolf had texted you asking for your assistance in werewolf business, who were you to say no? You wanted/needed the experience, no matter how much you tried to deny it at times. Plus, part of you was hoping the McCall boy had summoned you with a way to finally get rid of your problem for good- but you knew that was hopeless thinking.

Hours had passed, yet there was no sign of Scott. No message. No call. No voicemail. Nothing. It was a complete radio silence.

This struck you as odd. Scott McCall was a lot of things, but he was never one to just ditch a friend- or even a stranger, for that matter- without a good reason or a serious hold up.

Part of you worried for the boy. Was he okay? Did he need your help? What if he was already here, possibly injured and just waiting for you to swoop in and help him? You fussed over every detail, resting your head back with a soft thud on the bark of the forest tree behind you to stop your mind from going too far. You had to remind yourself to stay calm, or else things would spiral out of your control and you would be alone with no assistance.

Not keen on giving up just yet, you waited fifteen more minutes before you decided to call it quits. It was getting dark, and the rain was making your clothes and hair stick to you like a second skin at this point.

Walking away from the tree you were taking refuge under left you exposed to the harsh weather, feeling your body beginning to become a victim to the pericing rain once more. And, with no ride to get yourself back home and a phone that would most likely die the second you unlocked it, you knew the bullets of water wouldn’t stop until you reached shelter.

Part of you had wished you had pushed Scott to teach you most of the werewolf basics like using your super speed and super hearing; because most of that would’ve come in handy now. The super speed would’ve helped you make your way home faster than any human ever could . . . and the hearing would’ve helped you identify whatever sound was screeching in your ears before it was too late.

A baby-blue powdered jeep pulled up right in front of you, a familiar head poking out of the rolled down window. You gawked at him, watching as he beckoned a hand over as his words had to raise so you could hear him over the rain. “Get in!”

The twisting feeling that entered your mind told you ‘no’ the minute a subtle heat began to rise- becoming more noticeable in the ice cold rain. However, debating all options, you knew better. The rain was getting worse, the rumbling of a possible thunder storm beginning to head your way as your teeth began to chatter from standing still in the freezing inviroment for so long. And with the way Stiles was watching you carefully, his eyes basically told you that arguing with him was pointless. Classic Stilinski, you guess.

He opened the door for you when you sighed and made your way over to the passenger side of the vehicle that had seen better days, his face beaming when you hopped up on the seat. However, a possible change of ways between you two that he had been holding out for was put down when you folded your arms in a closed off manner; staring at the rainy front of the car. “Take me home, please.”

Stiles wanted to say something- he oh so desperately did- but he knew that would only destroy the little progress he had made with you by actually having you sit in his jeep for the first time alone together in many weeks. So, with his keys now plugged in to start the vehicle and activate the windscreen wipers, you were setting off.

Throughout the car ride, stolen glances were shared between the two of you- yours appearing more discreet than the boy across from you. An itch in your stomach made you feel bad once more as your (Y/E/C) bore into his side profile again like before, admiring the scatter of moles dancing across his skin that you used to trace over gently with the tips of your fingertips when you both would have the rareity of relaxing together. Oh how you’ve missed the many nights of doing that.

“Something wrong?” The sudden voice of Stiles made your spaced out expression twist into that of a confused one, humming in question. Stiles took his eyes off of the road for a split second to turn to you. “You’re staring.”

“Oh! Um, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded smoothly, looking down at your hands resting on your lap. With a question pawing to escape in your mind and an urge to at least say something to the boy, you asked him a simple question. “What were you doing out at this time anyway?”

“Scott called me. He said he was busy with Kira, or something, and asked me to pick you up.” The Stilinski teen explained, shrugging with his hands steady on the wheel.

Son of a bitch. You rolled your eyes as the final piece of the puzzle as to why the McCall boy had not turned up at all coming together. It was a set up. That asshole had set you up. “Oh.” Eager to keep your gaze on anything but the boy currently gazing into every inch of your face, your head rolled to rest on the window to stare at the scenery.

You must’ve fallen asleep at one point during the journey home, for all you could remember next was being woken up by the crack of thunder as you lurched up to meet the familiar front of a familiar house. You frowned when the car stopped, your eyebrows knitting together. “Why are we at your house?”

Stiles shrugged in an innocent manner, but the proud-like smile he was displaying told you everything. He knew exactly what he was doing. “The rain was making it hard to see the roads clearly. Plus, with the thunder rising, I figured- since my house is closer- it would be safer if we just stopped here.”

A panic set in amongst your brain, the instinct to get away just like before in the cafeteria setting in. “B-But it’s late.” You tried to reason, staggering through your words.

The boy shrugged. “You can just stay over. I have some spare clothes you can borrow.” He hoped out of the car, opening your side to offer you his hand.

You ignored it, jumping out yourself regardless as you both walked to the front of the door; feeling the boy’s hand brush against yours a few times as you did so. The action caused you to freeze up and panic once more. This was all red flags, warning you at the possible disaster that was to come. You were sure of it.

“Isn’t your dad home? I would hate to intrude. I’d be okay walking home from here, Stiles.” Clutching at straws now, your steps faltered when Stiles began to unlock the door to the house that was like a second home to you. Scratch that, it was a second home to you.

Stiles let out a scoff with a small snort. “My dad’s on night shift tonight, (Y/N), remember?” You cursed under your breath when it dawned on you. It was Friday, the house was a Sheriff Stilinski free household. “Besides, he wouldn’t care anyway; he loves you. And don’t even bring up walking the rest of the way to your house in this weather- it’s not happening.”

Stepping inside, you were overcome with a feeling of sweet nostalgia. The Stilinski house was basically the same as you had least remembered it- the only new thing being the family consisting of a father and son had thrown away the takeaway boxes which normally greeted you and your boyfriend when stepping in around dinner time.

Stiles set a gentle hand on the small of your back, the tingling touch leaving as soon as it came as the boy began to descend up the stairs in the direction of his room. You weren’t far behind either, watching rather nervously as he shot you a quick grin over the shoulder when the door to the bedroom was pushed open.

Stiles’ room had remained the exact same, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. All the strings connecting to the latest supernatural crime happening in Beacon Hills was still up, the crime board itself being decorated with pictures and post-it notes belonging to none other than you.

Small steps forward carried you over to the board, your lips curling up in a soft smile as your eyes scanned over all the cheesy pictures of you and Stiles that had been taken on a Polaroid camera he had gotten you for your birthday one year. They all held such a special memory in your opinion- ranging from your first date to one of your many movie nights.

A specific picture caught your attention in particular, your hand gently plucking the item from the board. You were met with a wide grin that had not been mirrored in weeks by you as the Stiles in the photo sloppily kissed your cheek, his arms wrapped round you as his blue bedsheets kept you both warm.

“I remember that.” Present Stiles was now right beside you, staring down at the picture rather fondly as you were. “It was the night I finally convinced you to watch Star Wars with me.” He grinned, recalling the memory of all the pleading and begging that had led up to that moment.

“Yeah,” A small, unexpected chuckle escaped your lips as you nodded, tilting your head to smile brighter at the photo. “I don’t think you would’ve even allowed me to date you if I hadn’t of watched those movies.”

“I missed those nights, ya know?” The short hum of Stiles made your gaze look away from the picture, your heart hammering in your chest at the look that was now plastered on the Stilinki’s face. “Those nights were all our worries would just vanish- as if nothing supernatural related could harm us.”

Now it was your turn for your face to fall, unable to help yourself as your eyes returned to the picture once more. He was right, of course he was. Yet . . . he didn’t see what you saw in that picture entirely.

In that picture, you saw two humans. You saw your human eyes that would now turn red if you wished and a smile that could now produce fangs when angered. The picture contained two human beings in a loving relationship . . . unaware that that title would soon change in a matter of weeks.

“I miss those nights too, Stiles,” The pad of your thumb smoothed over the photo, your shoulder now flaunt against the Stilinski’s clothed chest. “but I don’t know if we’ll ever have one of those nights again.” You had to be open about the future with yourself, and it tore you in half doing so in front of the boy.

“Sure we can.” Stiles was quick to shoot pack, turning around to signal for you to do the same. Your eyes connected as he stared at you softly, the temperature of the room beginning to rise at the sight. “We can have all those nights: all those moments again if we wanted.”

“Stiles-” your own jittering lips were the ones to cut your sentence short, the after effect of the rain only beginning to kick in now as you suddenly felt as if you were in a freezer of a room.

Stiles noticed the action immediately, his arms coming to rest on your forearms as they rubbed up and down gently in an attempt to warm you up. It worked probably better than it should’ve, admittedly; for the feeling of dreaded warmth in the cafeteria came again. Shit.

“I’ll get you a change of clothes.” You shivered when his arms left you- whether that be from the cold or something else was beyond you- leaving you to stand and watch his retreating back as he dug through one of his drawers before making his way back over to you. “Here.”

A smile became present on your lips when you immediately noticed the familiar design of the Mets hoodie that had become a quick favourite on your list of clothes that you liked to borrow- and sometimes steal, but we ain’t talking about that- and wear on the many nights that you stayed over. “My favourite.”

“Yeah,” Stiles let out the lightest of laughs as he scratched the back of his neck, making his way over to the drawers again to pick out clothes for himself. “I thought you’d like it. It’s been awhile since you’ve worn one of my shirts or hoodies.”

There it was, the guilt of your actions setting in. Your fingers subconsciously curled tighter round the fabric as you stripped off your clothing, leaving them in a damp bundle on the carpet floor before you slipped the bigger item of clothing on your body that reached just below your thighs.

It didn’t take long for the tiredness to catch up on you both, Stiles being the one to suggest that you two hit the hay after he witnessed you letting out a big yawn. He was quick to leap onto his bed, his eyes appearing to be excited until he saw you made no move to climb in next to you. “Everything okay, babe?”

“Yeah. It’s just, I think I’m just gonna,” you shifted on the balls of your feet, an awkward feeling igniting as you gestured over your shoulder to the boy’s desk chair. “I think I’m just gonna crash on the chair tonight.”

Stiles laughed at first, thinking it to be some weird joke. You always shared a bed, even before dating. It wasn’t weird or out of the ordinary for you two, so why you were so hesitant now only fueled his concern. “You’re serious? But we always sleep in my bed.”

“I actually think I’m coming down with something from that rain.” You lied, going as far as to fake a sniffle as you waved it off. “I don’t want to get you sick, it’s fine.”

“You think I care about getting sick?” Stiles smiled, his eyes watching as you stubbornly planted yourself on his desk chair and shifted to remain comfy. “Come on, (Y/N), lay with me.”

“I can’t, Stiles.” You shook your head, nuzzling your head in the leather material that differed far from the comfortable pillow you were used to. “Goodnight.” You hoped that would somehow cut things off, your mind left to wonder just how torturous tonight will be.

A small ‘oomph’ left you when a soft material collided with the back of your head. Whipping round, you now had one of Stiles’ pillows resting on your lap. You were about to shoot the boy a look, but Stiles had already beat you to it. “Stop. No takebacks. Take the damn pillow.”

With the boy across from you beginning to settle down for the night once more, you chose to try and get some rest yourself as you tightly stuffed the pillow into the comforts of your arms. It took awhile for you to find a comfortable position in the chair, but eventually, you managed a decent spot. The feeling of warmth surging and clawing like a monster in your chest was still there, but you tried to shake it off.

It would go away, right? The night would fall and you would get some rest, leaving all your problems even if it was for only a moment . . . oh how wrong you were.

The feeling grew like a fungus, spreading to every inch and crevice of your body until it felt like a fire was starting from within your body and would not die out until it got what it wanted. The smell of your boyfriend’s shirt and pillow just underneath your nostrils didn’t help either, your enhanced smell making the scent stronger and unable to ignore.

The clatter of palms slamming on his desk so suddenly gained the awake Stiles Stilinski’s attention, sitting up on his elbows as he watched your breathing pattern grow ragged. “(Y/N)?” He asked slowly, seeing your body tense.

“I-I’m fine.” You grunted out, your eyes hurting from how much you were scrunching them up to hold back. You knew this was a bad idea. You shouldn’t have entered the house. “J-Just stay back and give me a minute, Stiles.”

“Are you sure? Babe, you don’t seem to look so good. Why don’t you come into bed with-”

“Its fine just give me a minute, Stiles!” A sudden outburst of loud anger mixed with panic flooded through when you heard his soft movements of getting out of bed behind you. You held out a hand in warning, vaguely shaking your head. “Just don’t come any closer . . . please.”

Thankfully, the boy seemed to listen as you didn’t hear him move any closer. Unfortunately, he didn’t silence himself as you heard his voice softly flow over to you. “Why are you acting like this around me?” His voice was in the early stages of breaking, your head lifting up but not yet facing him at the tone. “Why? Why are we like this now? Is it something I did? Is it my fault?”

“No.” Things were taking a bad turn and you were scared. The feeling was clawing harder and harder, and you didn’t know if you could fight it anymore. Scott was right, it was only getting worse the more you trapped it deep inside. “No, it’s not you, Stiles. You did nothing.”

“Then why do you push me away?” There it was; the break in the voice. God, it felt like your heart had been given an abrupt tug when you heard the sound. “Why do you act so weird around me now, as if you’re scared to be around me? Is it the bite? Because, if this is about you being a werewolf then, (Y/N), I couldn’t care less what you are. I just want us back.”

“It’s more than that, Stiles.” You shook your head, letting out your first noise of pain of the night. You didn’t know how long you could fight this and if you even could anymore. Your body was being pushed to its ultimate limits, and the walls were crumbling fast.

“Then tell me! Tell me so I can help you, (Y/N). You’re breaking my heart by seeing you like this. All I want is to just take you in my arms and help you forget all your problems like you do with me, yet you refuse. Why?” He’s almost pleading with you now, pleading with you to let him in; to allow him to understand.

“Because I don’t have control with you, Stiles!” There it was. The icebreaker that felt like someone had popped a ballon swelling up in your chest with a needle. You fell back against the chair, tears beginning to build as you hugged the pillow closer to your chest and clung onto it as if you were hugging someone. “I-I can’t be around you because . . . because I can’t control myself from going into heat and wanting to . . . wanting to,” you trialed off, your words becoming softer as you felt the tears blur your vision.

“Wanting to what?” Stiles’ tone didn’t give you any hint as to how or what he was feeling after your words, so you didn’t know if that helped or made it harder as you answered.

“T-To mark you, Stiles. To mark you . . . as my official mate.” Silence settled across the room, the tension metaphorically suffocating you with the words now loose in the air. I shouldn’t have said anything. You thought, closing your eyes as the feeling died down until it became a tiny flicker of light compared to the fire it had been beforehand.

“W-What?” There was a slight tone of emotion to his voice how. Surprise? Fear? Anxiety? Excitement? It was hard to tell with the way your mind was unable to focus. “I’m . . . I’m your mate?”

There was no point taking back what had already been given. With the tears now fading into nothing but salty wet lines on your cheeks, you turned your back to the boy and hugged the pillow to your chest once more as if you were hugging him. You didn’t give into the need to look, because you knew looking would only make it all the more difficult to forgive yourself for ruining one of the few normal things you had going on in your life.

Deep down, you knew no one was to blame but yourself. You could pin the blame on any of your friends as much as you wanted, but they weren’t the ones who had made your mistakes. They weren’t the ones to have locked the truth up for so long that it caused them physical pain and in the end quite possibly made things worse.

“You know,” Stiles’ voice was like the sun coming through the clouds as it made something in your chest- butterflies?- feel lighter than it had been seconds before. “I read that when you cuddle a pillow you’re missing human affection, so maybe you can cuddle me?”

You feared you may have received whiplash with how swiftly you spun yourself around to witness the sight of Stiles smiling- adoringly, for that matter- as he lifted up the covers of his bed, patting the spot next to him welcomingly.

That was when- for the first time in this situation- your feet called the shots. It rose you from the chair slowly, allowing you to collect the plump pillow before it carried you forwards in tentative steps; stopping only when you were now right in front of the Stilinski boy.

Stiles looked up at you and- even with the moonlight being the only light source provided- gave you a look that made you melt. It was the look that you had received before the rise of your relationship. It was the look that calmed all the waves that damaged you through life.

It was a look that made you forget about all your problems . . . and that nothing supernatural related could hurt you.

Gingerly, The Stilinski boy’s hand tangled with yours as he pulled you down gently until you rolled to be placed on top of his chest. From, there, his hands hugged around your waist; trapping you there so your eyes were forced to meet.

“I thought it was impossible for a werewolf and human to be mates.” Was all that came out of his cupid-shaped lips, his nose coming up to nuzzle and brush cutely against yours.

You hummed in a form of happiness at the action, your fingers crawling up to tangle and play with the messy brown hair of the boy. “No, it’s not impossible- just rare. You have to be born human to have one.”

“How long have you known?” Stiles pulled away from you ever so slightly, his thumb drawing patterns as the hoodie you were wearing rode up ever so slightly, exposing your skin.

“Since my birthday.” You honestly answered, seeing your boyfriend tilt his head in the cutest manner. “It was when the pack surprised me, you were in the kitchen, so you missed the cue . . . but when you walked out to greet me . . . I knew.”

Stiles’ lips quirked up softly, edging closer so his lips brushed lightly over yours. “You knew?”

“Well, not until Scott properly explained it, but I remember the feeling of just wanting to be with you, celebrate with you, laugh with you, cry with you. I just- I wanted our relationship, Stiles.”

Two fingers came under your chin, Stiles’ eyes glinting with a prideful joy at your confession. The look made your stomach heat up, but, this time, it was different. It didn’t cause you pain. In fact, it just caused you to feel one thing . . . and that was a deep lust.

“You didn’t have to want our relationship, baby.” Stiles mumbled after clashing his lips onto yours, pulling away as the sound of lips disconnecting sounded through the bedroom. “Not when you already have it and every peice of me. Well, every piece . . . except one.”

Thud. Your heartbeat rises dramatically, causing you to sit back from the position you were currently in which was lying down on his chest. “Stiles . . . are you,” you trailed off, unsure of what your gut was telling you.

“I am.” Stiles Stilinski answered back as soon as the question was fired, his gaze too becoming almost needy as his amber eyes scanned you over before he met your eyes once more. “I want this, (Y/N).”

“But-But what if-” Regardless of the reduced pain, you still had your doubts. What if you went too far? What if things got bad and you could no longer stand on the fine line of human and werewolf? What if-

“Hey,” gentle hands held yours, squeezing one time with a thumb swipe over the knuckle as your breathing hitched at what it meant to you both. When things got more serious and, well, passionate between you both, the pair of you opted for hand signs. One squeeze with a swipe over the knuckle meant that they were okay, they weren’t harmed or scared to take things further with whatever they were trying. They were okay with what was happening, and they wanted it to happen. “You’re not gonna hurt me, okay? Remember that.”

Unable to grasp at formidable words, your lips did all the talking for you. Launching forwards, you captured his lips in yours. A short hum of pleasure escaped him, his hand beginning to travel to the bottom of the hoodie to slide it up. You smirked. “I love you, Stiles Stilinski. So much. I’m sorry.”

The Stilinski cupped your cheek and admired you as if you were the all the stars in a boring galaxy, his legs tangled with yours in an act to become closer. “Don’t be sorry, baby.” He whispered comfortingly, feeling you lean into his touch. “I love you so much, (Y/N), no matter what.”

You grinned at him. “Even if I haven’t seen the last Star Wars movie?”

“It’s a god damn miracle I haven’t left your ass for that and if you don’t mark me as yours forever right now, there’s gonna be trouble!” Stiles exasperated, only quieting down when you silenced him with a lustful kiss.

“You don’t need to ask me twice, Sti.” You laughed at the way his face beamed at the nickname you hadn’t used for him in weeks, the sight allowing you the comforting, cushioned thought that even after all these months; nothing had changed. You were still (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Stiles Stilinski . . . the only change would be that Stiles would now have a permanent mark on his neck on display for everyone to see.

Stiles Stilinski was a sight for sore eyes, and there was no doubt you were absolutely mesmerized by everything about him. You had no control, yet- as you laid later on in the night not only in the comforts of the bed you had been missing for weeks on end, but also the pair of arms that felt like a sweet home to run to when things got tough that could now be given the label of your mate- you were learning to accept.

Little by little, you were learning to accept that you and Stiles could still be the couple you had thought to have vanished the minute the wolf fangs pierced your dying skin. You were learning that you had always been you- werewolf or not . . . and it took a loving Stiles and one hell of a mating problem to realise that.

━ 𝐑 𝐎 𝐒 𝐂 𝐎 𝐄 𝐎 𝐁 𝐑 𝐈 𝐄 𝐍

#stilesodylan24celebrates1k #writing challenge #dylan o'brien #dylan o’brien imagine #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan x reader #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles #stiles stilinski x you #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf imagine #imagine #stiles stilinski imagine

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years

Note

May I request a vampire dogfight over an injured MC? A group of vampires are all wanting her and Cecelia has to fight them off to protect what is hers. Vampires are turning on each other left and right as well? Full on feeding frenzy.

It was supposed to be a quiet night out with Cecilia, nothing too fancy. Just a long conversation to get to know her better, under the stars and the ethereal glow of the moon, far away from the town and any kind of interruptions. You had Cecilia and her melodic voice all to yourself. You could get lost in Cecilia’s dark eyes all you liked, because their glint fascinated you more than all the treasures you had sneakily claimed for yourself over the years.

Perhaps that’s why you hadn’t sensed anything was wrong. You were too engrossed in the direction the conversation was headed, in the lovely tension that was building between you with each carefully worded retort. The single spark of a touch would ignite a passion like no other, and you were looking forward to let it consume any other thought that wasn’t Cecilia and her predatory smirk that quirked her wonderful lips just so.

She was a work of art, and you wanted nothing more than to shower her with the attention and admiration she deserved.

Of course, nothing went to plan. The tension spiked not because of a heated moment between lovers, but because of an ambush and scrambled attempts to defend yourselves. Cecilia was thrown to the ground first, hissing and growling in the face of her attacker. You only get a second to look at their wild eyes and baring fangs before someone tackles you so hard all the air leaves your lungs, leaving you wheezing.

There’s a brief moment of total blackness when your head hits the ground, and the next thing you know, you are face down on the earth, you don’t feel the weight of your gun on you and the person restraining you – another human – is laughing an awful, raspy laugh that makes you shudder with disgust.

“That was too easy!” He says, after his chuckles subside. You can’t even properly glare at him, so you just settle for proving him wrong. It only takes a bit of focusing before he’s screaming and cursing at previously nonexistent flames that now lick hungrily at his shirt. It’s all you need to push him off you and deliver a solid kick to his jaw.

His head snaps back, and he yowls in pain. A hand raises to grab your leg and yank you back, and you briefly wonder how stubborn this guy is before a piercing pain in your thigh has you gasping in surprise.

“You’ll pay for that.” You hiss. The punch you give him fills you with satisfaction, and a second one with a little bit of magical energy ensures he is out cold. You retrieve your gun almost mechanically, clenching your teeth at the throbbing pain that threatens to overwhelm your very mind.

You don’t have time for this, not when you’re not sure if Cecilia is safe.

Thankfully, improvising is one of your best qualities. You’ve never used your witch powers to heal yourself before, and you have no idea how to even begin, but you put both hands over the wound and hope for the best.

It’s not instant relief. It’s a weird mix of sensations: you suddenly feel too cold and a moment later too hot. The world spins, and you let out a long string of curses that would make Enzo proud while you try to get a grasp on the situation. Still, after that brief moment of turmoil, your mind clears.

Making a mental note to check the wound later, your gaze snaps up, trying to locate her. There’s a flash of red in the corner of your eye that disappears almost instantly, but it’s all you need. You stumble around a couple of rocks big enough to obscure your vision, and finally find her.

She’s crouched, lips peeled back in a snarl, ready to block or evade any strike the other vampire throws at her. Both look equally wary of each other, gauging each other up, looking for any weaknesses. Neither look particularly hurt… Cecilia’s jacket is torn in the back, clearly ripped open by claws, but her skin has already healed.

She’s okay. She’s fine.

You let out a small sigh of relief.

The other vampire sniffs the air, eyes instantly falling on you. His whole expression changes in less than a second, a wicked grin stretching across his face when he sees your wound.

“A witch?” He asks, incredulously.

Cecilia is on him faster than you can blink, her guttural growl echoing clearly. She maneuvers over his hasty attack like a nimble cat, empowered by something else than the need to defend herself. Her strikes are powerful and precise and make him stumble back, eyes wide at the restless assault.

She’s moving with the intent to protect what is hers.

“Don’t you dare look at her!” She roars, claws glinting a silvery red under the light of the moon.

Mouth dry at the sight, heart drumming with adrenaline and affection, you hurry to help her. Your energy rolls out of you in waves, trying to get a grip on the other vampire. You initially meant to grab his attention and grant Cecilia her golden opportunity, but you’re distracted by the other presences your energy picks up. And they are drawing closer with each second that passes.

“There are more vampires coming!” You shout, damning your bad luck.

Cecilia hisses, rolling out of an attack. She seems torn between making sure the vampire learns that you belong to her and her alone, or making a run for it. Crimson eyes dart around the terrain, trying to gauge how much time she has.

It turns out it’s less than a second. You’re quickly surrounded by an endless sea of glistening fangs, and under the light of the moon they seem all the more threatening.

There must be ten or so vampires here, or even more.

“Great.” You huff. Your fingers curl around the trigger of your gun, even though it may as well be a toy against these apex predators. You do not want to play damsel in distress, and your frustration only increases when it becomes evident you can’t do much else other than watch and hope for the best.

Cecilia seems ready to go down fighting, anyway, by the way she’s avidly looking for weaknesses.

“Hand over the witch.” Orders a calm voice. You glare at the closest vampire, seething in rage.

Cecilia’s answering growl seems to overpower any other sound in the world. “I will do no such thing!”

“It’s such a shame that the last Visconti will go down like this…”

The fight begins anew. Your energy extends like a roaring ocean wave, crashing against them and pinning some vampires in place. You strain under the effort, hissing under your breath.

The rest of enemies throw themselves at Cecilia, who dodges and hisses and pivots around them with effortless grace. She’s a storm barely contained in a mystical, expertly carved not-so-human body. A true sight for sore eyes. The enemy vampires don’t stand a chance against her.

It’s weird, you think, how easily she throws them around and slashes at their exposed chests and neck with ease. It’s like they aren’t at full strength, which would certainly explain why they came from who knows where for you.

A sharp moment of pain makes you stagger, making you suddenly aware of another problem. There’s a pressure in your mind that increases with each passing second. It’s not only the strain of keeping the spell, there’s something else poking and probing at your mind with an almost frantic need.

You try to fight it off with all your might, but the pressure only increases, drowns any other thought, makes you want to scream and trash around—

Then there’s a blurry movement in front of you and the vampire that was trying to lure you goes flying off.

“You’re mine, witchling. Don’t ever forget that.” Cecilia’s low, raspy voice snaps you out of it. She’s standing next to you, breathing hard, bathed in blood and sand and looking somehow perfect despite it all. Her touch is firm yet gentle over your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. You can’t help noticing how hers bore into your very soul, so intense and so powerful it’s impossible not to look at them. At her.

The moment is over as soon as it begins. Her hands fall to your sides, gripping your arms so hard it’s almost painful, and she quickly moves you out of the way of an incoming vampire. You prepare to fight back however you can, except it turns out you don’t really need to. The vampire continues forward, crazed, and crashes against another vampire at the far back.

There’s a series of indignant shouts and chaos descends at the next second. Some vampires make a move toward you and others move to block them, fangs bared, trying to push them back and make their own attempt to get to you. It looks almost comical, how they try to quite literally run over each other. Cecilia lets out a small huff by your side, half exasperation and half relief.

The enemy vampires are so out of it you even manage to shoot one directly in the face. She falls back, making a few agonized sounds deep in her throat, scratching the air and guarding what’s left of her face with her arms.

“That’s our cue to leave.” Cecilia murmurs, pressing you close to her, carefully cupping your neck. She seems less possessive and more like her usual self, probably because most of the danger has already passed. The injuries she caused to most vampires must have driven her point across.

The world lurches and shifts on its axis. You are on your apartment at the next second, and Cecilia is instantly fretting over your wound, even though she’s not faring much better. There’s a large cut under her arm that’s struggling to heal, along with several smaller ones along her arms and legs, and her breathing is even more labored.

Vengeful crimson gives away to worried silver, as she eases into her human form, not caring one little bit about her own state.

“Worry about yourself first, Cece. You look awful.”

“Most of my injuries look worse than they actually are. I’ll be fine. You, on the other hand-”

“Oh, don’t give me that. Go out and feed. Here, give me that bandage. I’ll take care of this.”

“I’m-”

“On your way out, yes.”

“Claire-”

“If I don’t see you stepping out my room in the next five seconds-”

She sighs and parts from you with hesitant steps. Looks over her shoulder at you regretfully.

“I’m sorry, if I had been more alert-”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t worry about that, Cece. It just means I’m too irresistible for you to pay attention to anything else.”

There’s that amused smirk that you love so much. The one that curls her lips just so and shows a flash of teeth, the one that makes the corners of her eyes crinkle slightly, and makes her eyes sharpen with predatory interest.

“Brat.” Is all she says, before leaving the room.

#evoedbd #answered #cecilia visconti #lovestruck #cecilia x mc #wll #wicked lawless love #mentions of injury #sporadic sunday #lovestruck wll #lovestruck wicked lawless love

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thepickpocketofdreams · 4 years

Text

“I’m too nervous to talk to the Prince. I wouldn’t know what to say.” Marinette fretted, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him in his white outfit. Herself and Chat Noir were still waltzing around the ballroom, making a continuous loop of the dance floor. Every time they came close to the Prince, her stomach clenched and she steered them well away, where she could just watch from afar and sure, maybe she wouldn’t get to talk to him, but just looking was fine, right? At least she’d be able to remember this night and –

“I’m sure you’d do just fine,” her partner replied. Marinette looked up at him and saw that he was smirking, so she flicked the bell attached to his bowtie.

“That’s easy for you to say, kitty. You have no trouble with conversations – I bet you make him laugh all the time.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Princess. I find you purrfect.”

“Chat.” Marinette shot him a look. “Look at him! My friends have told me he’s funny, but he’s also so…so elegant and refined!”

From behind her, there came a familiar voice. “Trust me, Multimouse, Prince Adrien is anything but refined.”

Marinette pivoted to grin at Kagami’s dry quip; they must have drifted close to where she was posted. She tugged Chat off the dancefloor to avoid being stepped on as they talked.

“Excuse me, Kagami, but the Prince is the epitome of refinement.” Chat said with an exaggerated bow. “He practically invented it.”

“Which is why Nino spent all afternoon having to chase him with cologne?”

“That cologne makes him sneeze and you know it – ”

“Keep talking, fleabag.”

There was a second of silence in which Chat glared at Kagami’s impassive expression. Then Marinette snorted, and blushed furiously as Kagami and Chat looked at her in amazement. Then Chat began to laugh, and Kagami’s lips twitched.

“It’d do him good to have someone like you around, Multimouse,” said Kagami with a shake of her head. “You can help me to remind him of his duties – which involve wearing cologne,” she added in a stage whisper, as Marinette giggled.

“Oh, cruel world that forces its Princes to wear such vile concoctions,” Chat pouted and struck a ridiculous melodramatic pose, which only made Marinette laugh harder. Before she could find a comeback however, she noticed that Kagami snap back to attention.

“Your highness,” she said with a bow.

Slowly, Marinette turned.

And gasped.

Before her was the Prince. He stood tall, dressed in a white suit with a flowing cape that touched the ground – there were feathers embroidered into the lapels, she noticed distractedly, as her eyes moved upwards. A pair of green eyes bored into hers from behind his mask as he surveyed Kagami’s bow, and the people around them who had dropped into curtsies and –

“Oh!” Marinette dropped into a clumsy curtsey, and lowered her gaze. His shoes! They were white too – a pain to keep clean outside, but SO distinguished in this case and –

“You may rise.” His voice. It was melodic, not that three words were really an indication, but oh well. As she stood up, Marinette peeked sideways and realised that Chat hadn’t bowed, merely nodded his head at the Prince. Well, he’d said they were friends, but if even Kagami had bowed then –

“Can I help you, your highness?” asked Kagami, distracting her from her thoughts.

“Princess Lila wishes to dance with me. I wish to avoid dancing with her.”

“You could dance with me,” suggested Chat Noir with a smirk. To Marinette’s surprise, the Prince gave him a withering look.

“Don’t start. I’m exhausted.” His eyes roamed the cluster of people around them, before coming to rest on…her? Checking behind her, Marinette realised he was holding out a hand. “You’re a pretty thing, you’ll do.”

Pretty???

“Excuse me?” Chat Noir took a step forward. “You can’t just speak to the guests that way –”

“There should be a ‘your highness’ in there somewhere, cat,” said the Prince in a bored tone.

“Oh, I’ll give you ‘your highness’ –”

“Gentlemen!” Kagami strode in between the pair. “No need to make a scene. Your highness, I’m sure any one of these wonderful guests would be more than happy to join you on the dancefloor.”

For a moment, no one moved. Marinette looked from the Prince to Chat Noir, whose posture was stiff and unyielding. What was he doing? Surely, he could see that the Prince needed a partner?

“I want to dance with this one.” The Prince said firmly.

Marinette gasped. She tore her eyes away from him and caught the tail-end of the glare Kagami shot at Chat. He hadn’t moved. The glare he was directing at the Prince was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

I thought they were friends?

“It’s okay,” she said, putting a hand on Chat’s arm. His eyes snapped to her. “I wanted to dance with the Prince, remember?”

“Yes, but –”

“Smart girl.” The Prince placed a hand on her waist, and Marinette dropped hers from Chat’s arm. Seeming to snap out of his trance, Chat swept into a deep bow.

“Well, it was a delight to dance with you, milady. I hope you find all that you’re looking for.”

And he walked away.

Out in the centre of the dance floor, Marinette had no time to worry about Chat Noir. All her attention was focused on not standing on the Prince’s toes, or saying something ridiculous. Not that she usually said ridiculous things, unless she was around unfairly attractive people which, to be fair, the Prince was, because he was a MODEL but –

“Your name?”

“I – sorry?” Marinette forced her attention to the Prince’s face and saw him wince as she instantly stood on his toes. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry –”

“It’s fine.” He attempted a smile. “I asked your name?”

“Oh, I see. I’m ah – I’m Multimouse. Well, just for tonight, I mean, I’m not normally called Multimouse. What kind of person would have that name? Like multiple mice, what would have to happen at your birth for you to get a weird name like that?” Towards the end of the sentence, she tailed off into a squeak.

Why. Am. I. Like. This.

To his credit, the Prince didn’t run for the hills. He looked as though he wanted to, but he didn’t. Small mercies.

“It’s…nice to meet you, Multimouse.”

Something inside her shrivelled up at the lack of tone in his voice. Marinette chanced a glance up at his face, only to be met by disinterested eyes. Eyes that looked past her to scan the crowds of the dancefloor.

“Hiding from someone?” she asked. Chat Noir had been hiding from someone too, her traitorous brain reminded her. No. She pushed Chat Noir aside. This was her chance to talk with Prince Adrien.

“I’m hiding from Princess Lila. Weren’t you listening?” he snapped. A lump formed in Marinette’s throat – here she was, in front of her hero, and it was going every bit as badly as she had feared.

“Oh yes, silly me. I completely forgot.” Marinette gave a half-laugh. The Prince didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he seemed to prefer her silence.

They waltzed around the room, and Marinette looked around wildly for a friendly face. Alya, Nino, Kagami, even Chat Noir – but none of them were there. She craned her neck to check the highest balconies, but there was only a lone figure up there dressed in blue.

All of her friends had left.

“I –” Marinette took a step away from the Prince, letting her hand drop from his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Please, find someone else to dance with you. I need – I need a moment.”

Before he could reply, she darted through the crowd and out of the ballroom.

#tails never fails #marichat #marichat may #purrince #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir/marinette fluff #chat noir #chapter five #chapter 5

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doomedandstoned · 3 years

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Shepherds Crook Doom the Moonlit Sky in Latest LP

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Album art based on a painting by Remedios Varo

I've been enamored SHEPHERDS CROOK from the moment I chanced upon 'Black Lake' (2018) some years gone, which inspired an impromptu review. Here is a band that should be, in my mind, every bit as familiar to aficionados of doom metal as Dopethrone, Bongzilla, and Cough. This opinion is founded on more than the strong emotional connection the music has made with me over the years. Every sludge lover I've had occasion to introduce the Trondheim duo to has taken to them immediately. Who can deny the appealing backwoods grit of "Uteseler" or the celebratory toke of "Smoke Diver"?

While their road game has yet to start, their track record in the studio is flawless with two stellar EPs and four highly regarded LPs notched around the belt already. The principal drivers of this project are multi-instrumentalist Ole Hell and vocalist Nestor. Together, they're a force to be reckoned with in the heavy underground, with Ole's penchant for composing dank rhythms and forlorn guitar leads that touch a nerve every time. Nestor completes the picture with characteristic gravelly crooning that carries more evil, hissing ire than a den of pissed off vipers.

Before us lay the latest long-player of the lot, 'Mat For Månen' (2021) -- or "Food For The Moon" -- which is such a brilliant title when you consider how suitable this music is for humid summer nights full of barbeque, beer, and self-loathing. If the dog's fabled bark at the moon could be rendered in relatable terms, it might end up sounding like Shepherds Crook.

"The Narrow" cracks the bottle on the recording with an irradiated strum. This becomes the song's central theme, with bass and drums joining in, followed by Nestor's gruff, caustic strains. This dirge of doom is unrelenting, with the riff simultaneously establishing the melodic core and rhythm. It's a tight track with no room for fat, not even for one of Ole Hell's trademark guitar solos -- though the woeful axeman does drop an ominous footnote during the song's closing seconds.

The titular "Mat For Månen" is next in queue and dons quite a downcast mood, with guest artist Stian Sumstad's basswork carrying the song to several emphatic moments that border on epic. The guitar has an opportunity to really shine on this one, with a melodic lead midway through that seems to be telling us secrets buried in the woods 'neath these mysterious moonlit skies.

Photograph by Magnus Olsen

Though I'm far from an angry drunk, "Barfight" has me feeling the rage that comes along with imbibing a bit too much and making enemies at the table before the night's all said and done. The song sets off a nasty blues vibe that makes me feel braver than I really am, inspiring a swing at my enemies -- real or (in this state likely) imagined.

Our four-song excursion grinds to a finish with "Ingen Morgenkvist" which does sad as only Shepherds Crook can. Though I'm uncertain of the precise meaning ("morgenkvist" has no English equivalent), my best detective work has me believing the song title could be approximated "No Morning Seen." This number has a certain weight to it -- and not merely because of its 16-minute runtime. Despite the familiar joshing about how long doom bands are prone to playing ("I just got here, what did I miss?" "Nothing yet, they're still on their first song!"), it takes strong songwriting and a steady hand of musicianship to pull off low and slow in a way that works convincingly for the listener. Here, the song has a balladic feel (it's based on a poem by poem by Jørgen Nygard) that builds gradually, layer upon layer, with Mr. Hell's guitar doing the kind of singing that defies words, yet somehow succeeds in rendering meaning.

Overall, Mat For Månen is a welcome addition to the Shepherds Crook oeuvre. It succeeds in delivering the unique sound of the band with a depth that gives it staying power. Perhaps it will find a welcome home in your playlist, to. Releasing July 2nd (at which point it will be available for purchase here), the record is presented in its world premiere courtesy of Doomed & Stoned.

Give ear...

LISTEN: · Shepherds Crook - Mat For Månen (2021)

Shepherds Crook: The Rundown

Interview with guitarist Ole Hell Photographs by Magnus Olsen

How did Shepherds Crook get its start?

It started out as some kind of experiment back in 2017 when I (Ole) rented this little studio room in a larger studio space of a friend of mine.

The first track we did was "Outlaw Speedking", based on a riff I made on the spot when I found my acoustic guitar after many many years of not playing. I got myself some new gear and just started to record.Nestor heard it and got hyped, wrote some lyrics and recorded the vocals in one take, first try. We knew that we had to do more songs and about a month later we released Black Lake. We did five releases from 2017 to 2019. I do everything from recording to mixing and mastering, so it's been a learning process for me as far as making heavy music sound good, with every release I think it sounds a little bit better.

Where did the name Shepherds Crook come from?

Actually I thought it was a fascination for walking sticks from hiking in the woods or whatever, but Nestor reminded me the other day that the name came from a dream I had years ago where I was going to make a band called Shepherds Crook. I can't really confirm that as I don't remember. Blame the beers.

How would you describe your "sound" to someone who hasn't yet listened to your records?

We're all over the place as far as I'm concerned. We started out with more of a stoner vibe and kind of mixed in elements of doom and sludge. The vocals might be weird for a lot of stoner rock fans, and the riffs might be too boring for everyone that is into "metal" but likes the vocals. This is our impression from people anyways. But back to the sound; it's heavy riffs, moody melodies and mean vocals. I think we kind of got our own thing going at this point, we care less and less about these "doom" and "stoner" labels these days to be honest.

Walk us through each track on 'Mat For Månen' and tell us about what the songs mean and/or how they originated.

We do like the idea that the listener can interpret and make up his own mind what the tracks mean. But, basically the general idea for the album is the moon and how it connects to organic life on earth. Mat For Månen is norwegian for "Food for the moon" and is based on the same concept laid out by the mystic G. I. Gurdjieff (and to some extent Ouspensky and others), I won't lay the whole thing out here, but if anybody is interested they could check that out.

The tracks touch on this topic in various ways like lunacy, the saturn connection, no dawn, wizards and shit, lol. The songs are also pretty varied on this one, from that stoner doom thing to a more heavy blues vibe, doom and stoner metal.

As a side note, we recorded the album at a place called "Månen" (the moon), the place of a buddy of ours. Cool thing is he joined on vocals for two of the tracks and It sounds awesome. He might be joining us on bass and co-vocals whenever we get our asses on stage.

Speaking of stagework, has Shepherds Crook had a chance to get out and tour much?

I mean, not really. In the beginning it was just me playing all the instruments as a studio project. Then after a while we had a couple of drummers come in and a bass player. We started rehearsing to play live then some of us couldn't make it due to different reasons, etc. We still have plans to make it happen at some point in the near future.

Give us an overview of your discography so far.

Black Lake (2018) Uteseiler (2018) Evil Magician (2018) Carved In Smoke (2019) Dauseiler (2019) Mat For Månen (2021)

Black Lake by Shepherds Crook

Uteseiler by Shepherds Crook

Evil Magician by Shepherds Crook

Carved In Smoke by Shepherds Crook

Dauseiler by Shepherds Crook

Are there any records or songs that you are especially proud of?

I know we're both pretty happy with Uteseiler as a whole and the last track of Dauseiler: "Serpent Ropes". Also, Mat For Månen is pretty decent I would say.

What does the future hold for Shepherds Crook?

I'm in the process of writing riffs for another album, but have no idea when it will be finished. It could take a while. We have other projects going as well.

Nestor (the singer) is now in this black metal band and I'm doing my other thing Vandrer (instrumental doom), you can check it out on vandrer.bandcamp.com.

We also got a new drummer: Trollhammer aka Jan Olav, an old childhood buddy. We were in a death metal band together in the early-mid 90's and he's been in many death metal bands since then.

He will be doing the drums on both Shepherds Crook and Vandrer from now on, bringing that extra punch to the face (and groin area).

What is your philosophy of life? How do you see the world, your place in it, etc.?

Well, we got all kinds of crazy renegade ideas. While we wait for that book, just insert any Lemmy quote of choice!

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#D&S Debuts #Shepherds Crook #Oslo #Norway #doom metal #sludge #metal #death doom #HeavyBest2021 #D&S Interviews #D&S Reviews #Doomed and Stoned

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peterparkerstarker · 5 years

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Kinktober Day 25: Body Swap (Starker)

Peter groaned as he woke up, his body aching and chest tight.

God, what did he get up to last night to feel like this? He thought back to the previous evening, and groaned again, covering his eyes with his hands in the dim morning light.

He had gotten drunk for the very first time and loudly proclaimed his love for Tony in the midst of a full Avengers-style rager.

Fuck. Could he be any more embarrassing?

The worst part was he couldn’t remember anything after Thor and Loki started gleefully chanting “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” to Peter and Tony, who had apparently downed an entire bottle of extra special Asgardian mead and was somehow, miraculously still standing. He remembered leaning in, face blushing crimson hot, and then… nothing.

Just blackness until this very moment.

God, he was such a lightweight for a superhero.

He stumbled out of bed, feet hitting the floor, feeling all wrong. Was this the dreaded hangover Nat had warned him about? His body felt all... wonky. Like everything around him was shifted 2 inches to the left and he couldn’t quite get a handle on it.

And fuck. His back! What had he done to make his spine twinge like that?

He scrubbed his face lazily as he went to go pee, the hallway to the bathroom was dim and blessedly cool.

His cock looked kinda weird today, he thought groggily as he peed, but didn’t pay it much mind. Probably just a side effect of all the alcohol. He’d heard booze could mess with your ability to get it up, so that had to be part of it.

Peter washed his hands, not bothering to glance in the mirror and see what was probably a complete mess of curls and undereye circles, and stumbled back into his bedroom.

Only… he was already in bed?

Peter stared dumbly down at the figure curled up in his bed, a body that was very clearly his, or at least bore a striking resemblance.

“What--?” he said loudly, which apparently caused the other guy to stir, and was greeted with a sleepy, “Well hey there,” followed by a suddenly very alert, “What the fucking hell?!”

The voice even sounded like him, which was confusing. Was this a doppelganger? Had he somehow managed to fuck his evil twin last night?

But Peter 2.0 was suddenly scrambling to his feet, looking scared and confused. Peter held out a shaky hand, trying to calm the other dude like he would a wild animal, when he noticed his own hand looked… off. Not the slender unblemished pianist’s fingers he knew so well. His current hand was stockier, a little more square, older maybe? And the number of scars that arced across it was astounding. He marveled at it, briefly forgetting about the other Peter.

“You wanna tell me why the fuck you look just like me?” Peter 2.0’s voice was high and screechy. God, did he sound like that all the time? He hoped not.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Peter responded, focusing back on the other version of himself that he suddenly realised was decidedly unclothed. At least he had pajama pants on.

But wait. His voice. It was also wrong, lower and more melodic, he couldn’t quite place it but it tickled at the back of his mind. It was definitely familiar.

The other Peter looked down at his naked form, touching his abs and chest tentatively, before running into the hallway, and stopping in front of the bathroom mirror.

Just as Peter was poking his head around the corner to check on him he heard a loud exclamation of “Motherfucker!”

Peter 2.0 turned to face him, face pale and panicked. “How did I wake up in your body? Please tell me this is not some fucked up Freaky Friday situation we have on our hands!”

That didn’t make any sense, Peter thought as he crossed his way into the bathroom. Then again, none of this did.

He stopped suddenly, glancing at the image in the mirror of him and Tony.

Only… Peter 2.0 was him, and somehow his reflection was Tony.

“Oh,” was all he could think to say, as it all came crashing back to him.

The drunken, playful kiss that turned filthy.

Peter moaning into Tony’s mouth as the older man licked and bit at Peter’s swollen lips. The rest of the group losing interest in their little makeout session after a while, instead deciding to convince Bruce to Hulk out and try to lift Mjolnir.

The desperate whine he let out when Tony lifted his shirt. The blessed first contact of skin to skin as Tony removed his own.

And then Peter being lifted, wrapping his legs around Tony’s waist as he was carried down the hallway, grinding and panting and needy as they fell into Peter’s messy bed, the sheets pooling around them as they removed more and more clothing.

The sting of Tony’s teeth on his nipple as he bit down. God, Peter wanted more of it.

The dull ache as Tony entered him, which gave way to scorching hot pleasure as he was filled and fucked and came, breathless while Tony thrust into him.

Falling asleep to the sound of Tony’s quiet snores, a sense of calm and contentment washing over him.

“Oh indeed,” Peter 2.0 replied, no wait. Tony. Tony… in Peter’s body. Fuck, this was weird and confusing and his head throbbed in what was most definitely the start of a hangover.

“Did we...?” Tony asked, face flushing pink, and Peter realized that must be what he looked like when he got embarrassed.

Peter nodded silently, too afraid to speak.

“And then the… Freaky Friday situation went down in our sleep?” Tony cocked an eyebrow, and it was surreal to see Tony’s nervous tics on his own face.

“Looks like it. What do you think caused it?” Peter asked quietly, trying to think through everything that might have lead to this situation.

Tony sighed, and said “No clue. I remember getting absolutely blitzed on that funny mead and then you declared your undying love and affection for me, which led to the hottest sex of my life. By the way, we need to discuss that at some point, kid. And then I remember waking up like this,” he pointed at his naked body, and Peter flushed again at seeing himself so exposed.

“Wait… the mead. You said it tasted funny?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, I’ve had stuff Thor’s brought back before and it never did this to me, not that I’m complaining, you really are an impressive specimen, Underoos. But whatever Loki foisted off on me was kinda funky. Once I drank enough it stopped mattering though. That’s one of the many perks of drinking, the more you do it the less the taste matters,” Tony said.

Peter groaned, “Please tell me you did not chug a strange liquid that Loki gave you, Tony.”

And Peter had to admit that Tony’s rueful expression was adorable on his delicate features.

“.... Maybe? I was already half gone on the shots Nat made me take. I just thought Loki had finally decided to stop being such a dick for once. How was I supposed to know it was spelled?”

Peter groaned, “God, Tony, you really are the smartest idiot I know. Come on, let’s get you… well, technically me, dressed and find that jerk and make him switch us back.” He grabbed his hand, and it was bizarre to feel how soft his own hand was, what it must have been like when Tony held them last night as he fucked deep into him. The memory was sweet and sexy.

“Hold up a minute… I’d know that look on me anywhere…” Tony said, stopping in his tracks. “Who says we can’t have a little fun before we make Reindeer Games sort us out? Besides, I’ve always wondered just how handsome I look when I come. Don’t tell me you’re not curious about this once in a lifetime opportunity to fuck yourself.”

Peter tried to deny it, tried to speak up, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Tony grinned smugly at him, and said “That’s what I thought,” pulling him back towards bed, kissing him all the way.

Maybe they could have a little fun with this...

@readysetstarker @jwolf18791 @warathena418 @pray4meireadstarker @thotticusmaxximus @mvrphyblooms @morgoona-stark @silkystark @untold-royalty @pollyparrot8 @sthefystarkersworld @katzenbaby1 @another-starker-hoe @tony-is-my-daddy @mystarkershame @plsstopgivingpetertrauma @hoeforthegays @lonleystarker @awesomeimportantfan @friendlyneighborhoodlosxr @hpspazz @starker-obsessions @starkershomelife @tightaroundthewebslinger @animefan1998-love @peterpissparker @starkercandy @loki-helmet @petecake @starkercrossedlovers @nerdylocksandthethreebears @thirstyhoe4yoongi @starker-reader @starkerissemiok @tomhollabel @momobaby227 @dragonskittysblog @sleepy-and-depressed @disneyprincessdominatrix

#kinktober #starker #my fic #my writing #day 25 #body swap #body switch

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rainydawgradioblog · 4 years

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a covidsation with mary claire

For the first Covidsation for autumn quarter, here is an interview I did back in May with Mary Claire, my dear friend and one of my favorite local artists. Mary Claire is a singer-songwriter based here in Seattle who makes “sad girl rock” (see: Mitski, Angel Olsen, etc.). I first met them through the DIY scene and was lucky enough to book them at the finale Red Room show, a house venue I used to live at and help run. As evidenced by the picture below taken that very night, seeing Mary Claire play live is a magical, mesmerizing, captivating experience. Often accompanied with minimal, but tonally-rich instrumentals, their powerful and hauntingly stunning voice paired with visceral, poetic lyrics transport you into another realm. I *highly* recommend listening to their album Phantom Limb, which you can find on your streaming platform of choice or you can snag a physical copy at Everyday Music on the Hill like I did! Last month, they also just released an incredible stop-motion music video for their song off PL called “I Don’t Like Drinking”, directed, edited, and animated by Barb Hoffman, which you can find here! Thank you Mary Claire for these thoughtful responses and for creating such vulnerable, beautiful art <3

Lola Gil: Tell me about your project. How has it evolved? Which artists are you most inspired by? How would you describe your sound?

Mary Claire: Hi hi I’m Mary Claire. I was never someone who was playing music since they were a little kiddo, it was something I picked up my senior year of high school. But pretty much everyone in my family has some amazing and weirdly specific aptitude for music, so I think being surrounded by that kind of allowed me to gather an eclectic, personal understanding, appreciation, and internalized feeling for music, so I never really took lessons or anything like that. I enjoyed and still enjoy that from the start, I was okay with the fact that I didn’t know “academic” theory and I just played with what feels and sounds right. And I still do that. So I played around with all those youthful punk feelings and had an angsty band in high school that was not bad for small town Sacramento. I think I learned so much from that and it gave me a flood of unhindered and unhinged confidence for recording, performing, maneuvering stage mechanics and technicalities, etc. Also it introduced me into the world of songwriting that I did for that band and for myself that just immediately poured out of me, which led me to what I’m doing now. I am extremely lyrically-focused and write mostly about lived personal experience that I surrender to and make extremely overly-wordy. I went from a solo act, to a bigger full piece crunchier band, to me and a piano player, back to a solo set, so I’m really just kind of evolving with my resources, the songs I’m currently living in and playing, and with what would bring everything to life most fully.

I’m inspired by everyone, even if I don’t necessarily sound like them or listen to them all the time. Like, my adoration for incredibly angry punk music is what got me started in the creation of my own music, so that foundation will never leave me. Even though I won’t sound like IDLES or Shame or Pissed Jeans, their point of view and their devotion to cramming so many words into one breath is a place I also come from. We execute similar feelings in different ways. And though I currently am not anything like Yves Tumor, King Krule, or FKA Twigs, the layers in their stuff sends me so far. But I think lyrically and melodically, I pull inspiration from and sink most into Mitski, Sasami, Angel Olsen, Palehound, Big Thief, Bella Porter, Darci Phenix, Fiona Apple, Sufjan Stevens, Izumi, and Weyes Blood.

Someone once said my tunes are “sad girl rock” and I think that sticks in a fun, quick way, so that’s what I tell people. But more recently, the stuff on my upcoming album I think is like a sad, fucked up, incredibly fast-paced nursery rhyme book (lol). I’m really excited for this album I wrote, more than anything ever. Also my good friend and twin flame Francis is helping me record it and is giving me a lot of knowledge and challenges and affirmations and inspiration. I owe a lot of this second album’s production and complexity him. There are a lot more people involved in the recording of this one, so it’s a lot fuller in a new and exciting and scary way.

LG: As an artist, how have you been affected by the pandemic? I saw most of your tour you had booked was unfortunately cancelled-- are you planning on rescheduling?

MC: Rescheduling feels so completely beyond me right now, so I am just considering it to be cancelled until things in the world really start to settle down to some degree of safety and responsibility. However, the silver lining in all of this ‘rona stuff is that it has given me a ton of time to recenter myself with my music and devote my own energy into recording and feeling the core of my upcoming album. I think when the world is moving so fast, it’s easy for me to feel like I’m behind, like other people are getting shit done faster and in a more “impressive way”, in a way that matters more or has more inherent value. So when we are all forced to stay at home with ourselves, not only does it remind me that all of those insecurities are completely not real and are in fact a delusion borne from a capitalistic-productivity-equals-artistic-worth-framework, but I also get time to actually enjoy and fine tune what I otherwise might have just thrown out into the ether desperately and prematurely in hopes to be current and up to date and ~with it~.

LG: Have you been working on writing any new tunes? Have you been involved in any other creative projects recently?

MC: When I was recording Phantom Limb, I wrote the majority of my next upcoming album, so while those songs don’t feel incredibly new, there is a ton of stuff I have yet to share and that I am so eager to scream to the world. It feels like some of the stuff I am most proud of making in my entire life.

But since I left for Berlin to study abroad last fall to when I came back to Seattle this January, I really hadn’t written anything new. I think I had been going through a lot of personal and immense change and hard growth that wasn’t particularly inspiring, it just sucked and was intense and necessary, but sometimes all that bad stuff is not something you can just make art out of. Plus I had to just do something totally different and invest and surrender to techno and being a gross city Eurotrash gremlin and let that out cathartically. But recently, I wrote my first super new song in what feels like ages, and I’m so happy. I was afraid maybe I’d forgotten how to do it, but it’s pouring out of me again and I feel like me again. I have also been working a bit back and forth with a friend from the project World Peace. We just keep sending clips back and forth and weaving our separate projects together a bit, which is something I’ve never done and I’m having a ton of fun, especially because our music is so different. Besides that, I have some plans to work with another good friend Izumi after having adored them the moment I moved here.

LG: How have you personally been dealing with the pandemic and the craziness that is 2020? What has your quarantine experience been like so far?

MC: I went home to Sacramento for a month and watched more TV than I had probably in my entire life. It was really good to see my family and siblings who I miss so much. But I came back to Seattle in April and since then have just been spending my days in a limbo of online school weirdness. But I’m so fortunate that I live with so many people who are all so unique, all of whom I feel are my best friends. So I definitely don’t get too bored:)

LG: What music have you been listening to during quarantine? What has been your go-to isolation album?

MC: Okay to be honest, when I begin to think of my next album and what it feels like inside of me, I make one single playlist with like hours and hours of songs on it and it’s the only thing I listen to for like a year. So I’m prone to listening to the same stuff perpetually forever and always, but I think I’ve always sort of been like that. It makes the feeling familiar. But since I’ve felt close to the sounds of my upcoming album for a long while now, I’ve actually pretty much been listening to what is my ~album 3~ inspo playlist, because I already feel that beast growing inside of me. I’m a planner.

Most of the artists on those playlists are the ones I listed above in regards to who I feel are my biggest inspirations. But right when quarantine started though I would pretty much only play Man Alive!, I would just go through the whole thing and then restart immediately. When I was in Sacramento, my family had a rule I could only play it with headphones because it was literally nonstop, that’s just how I consume things; I take a bath in them until I feel every single part of what was made. But other than that, I’ve been bumping Peter Campanelli’s Pesto Baby and crying a lot about it, Darci Phenix’s (my best bud from Sac) Juniper Street which is some of the best songwriting literally ever, and Francis Farmer’s Bruised Fruit which is SO expertly recorded and thought out, I am so lucky he is my friend and wants to record my upcoming album with me.

LG: Arethere any spring shows that you were particularly looking forward to attending that got cancelled?

MC: Pretty much all of them imaginable.

LG: How do you think the Seattle music scene is going to be like post-COVID?

MC: Hopefully, this can recenter us and remind us we’re all really really and truly in this together. It’s up to us to lift each other up and get each other on bills and spread the word and create community for those who need it most and for those whose lives rely on this art. Seattle seems like it is really good at that on a small scale, but once it gets to a little bit larger stage, it’s easy for people to forget where they came from, who supported them, and what should be at the forefront of our radars. I think shedding this cool guy persona and getting back to why this shit is so important and listening to/PROMOTING smaller artists who are making The Best stuff is something everyone could be reminded to do.

LG: In this funky era of social distancing, how do you think artists can support each other during these weird and difficult times? How do you think social media is facilitating and/or inhibiting connection within Seattle’s overall creative community?

MC: I think people’s ability to make what seemed like such an immediate switch to social media music promotion and shows was really amazing. However, it makes me feel a bit hopeless and dystopian and sci-fi in a weird way. That being said, trying to resist the change has only proven to be detrimental to me and kind has come back to kick me in the ass. Like, I should not be turning down opportunities just because livestreams kind of freak me out in how foreign and disconnected they can appear to be. I’m no better than them, and it’s important I think to accept things where they’re at instead of pretending they’re not happening.

That being said, I think everyone has been maneuvering with such grace and empathy and compassion for others in a way that I can really feel, and I hope that sticks around forever.

- Lola Gil

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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 5 years

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An Ephemeral Eternity in Seven Parts - Steve Rogers x Reader

MASTERLIST Word Count ~ 3.7k Warnings: Gifs aren’t mine. My English. This part contains a bit of Bucky x reader too. Part I Part II PART III She had made up her mind. She wanted to finish her mission with a twist in the end. She had been living in Bucharest for quite a while, getting used to the simple people, to the easy life while at the same time she was looking for him. Her memory had fully recovered and even though she wasn't proud of the things she did, that was her past and she owed to herself to make a change. She decided to find him and make sure everything was okay. Her plan worked but it all blew up when someone pretended to be the Winter Soldier and took down King T'Chaka. She knew it wasn't Bucky. He was done with all of that. And she knew that much because they had been together that exact moment.

Bucharest had been nothing but beautiful to her, with its wide, tree-lined boulevards, glorious Belle Époque buildings and a reputation for the high life. It wasn't that hard going back to not depending on Stark's money. She had gotten a job, a small apartment and she actually liked it there, thinking that maybe she could stay a while. She had been walking down an old and narrow street going back to her place after her shift when she had bumped into someone. "Îmi pare foarte rău" she had immediately offered but her accent wasn't that great which was the reason he had looked up to her face with a soft smile ready to say that it was okay, when he had seen her and had stayed still. Her eyes had widened and she had to force her mouth shut. He was about to turn away and make a run for it. "Please don't go" she had breathed out as fast as she could. It had made him halt and weigh his options as he had scanned the entire street for any back up. Slowly, he had relaxed and looked at her, still in shock. "What are you doing here?" he had asked her in a low voice. She had really hoped for a different scene. She had rolled her eyes at his behavior. "Yes, I am alone here. Yes, it's good to see you too. And thank you for asking, I am fine" she had sneered in a fake playful tone and raised her eyebrow. He had huffed in annoyance, but he knew she was right. "Fine, fine. You found me, now what do you want?" he had tried again. He knew he wouldn't sake her off. She had always been stubborn and never gave up. She had facepalmed without even caring about the few people who were passing by. "A drink, a rooftop and you're gonna join me" she had concluded, leaving him no choice.

After that, they had hit it off. She had even made him an offer; he would teach her Romanian and she would help him any way he needed. At some point after she told him she was a Stark, her grandparents had come up. He had admitted that they were his mission once. He had thought she would be furious at him but she knew, better than anyone that he wasn't the one who killed them and quite honestly didn't care that much. Although her father would. It was late at night or early in the morning, she wasn't sure and she didn't quite care. They were gazing the sky from her balcony and the view was pure and beautiful. Her apartment was on the top floor and she would take advantage of that fact whenever she had the chance. It had been a long day and she needed to lay off some steam. He had been in a weird mood, like he was waiting for the next bad thing to happen for a while. The air was chilly but they didn't mind, both of them lost in their thoughts and in their beers. "I didn't expect this when I came here" he admitted, a soft and cautious smile made its way to his pink lips. She looked at him in the same gingerly way but with a warmer smile. "Am I such a boring person?" she joked and gasped in fake agony which made him laugh. It was genuine, rich and melodic - he should laugh more. He rolled his eyes at her manners but he was truly thankful for her presence - she made everything seemed easier. "You're perfect doll" he whispered before he could think what he was saying. He hoped she didn't pay attention to his words, just for once because he was definitely not ready for that. He knew about Steve and her feelings for him. All the masks and facades were off once she realized he remembered Steve - she forced him to face his actions, his memories and even tried to help him with the triggering thing, as he never wanted to go full on Winter Soldier ever again, with her mind powers. Even though she discovered a way for him to remain himself in all cases, she wasn't sure she could do it without injuring him in a permanent way but she promised she wouldn't stop trying to come up with something better. "Sorry, what was that? I had zooned out a bit" she told him with an apologetic tone. She had heard him loud and clear but she wasn't even close to ready for that, so she decided to spare them both the awkward moment. "It's late. Maybe we should get some rest" he tried to save whatever was left to be saved. Little did they know fate was a complicated thing. She nodded in agreement and walked into the apartment. He was going to offer to leave and she was going to arch her eyebrow, criticizing his ability to decide correctly. It had happened more times than they could remember and therefore they had this rule; if it was after midnight no one left. It was going to be... Different.

Things were happening way too fast for her to register everything. One moment she had eyes on Bucky and the next she had to run to his place, only instead of finding him alone, she found Steve too. "Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive" Steve told him before she walked into the room through the back door. "That's smart. Good strategy" Bucky answered coldly. Both of them, turned around when she cough on purpose. Steve's eyes popped out for a moment. "Shut up James. What are you doing here Rogers? Weren't you in London, screwing her niece?" she fired at them. Bucky was left disturbed and Steve pulled a face. Thankfully, she realized that they had been compromised and acted fast, shielding them with her powers, a soft lilac color between them and the door. "This doesn't have end in a fight, Buck" Steve tried again, ignoring Sam in his ear. "It always ends in a fight" Bucky prepared himself for the collision. "You pulled me from the river. Why?" Steve pushed back and she saw the determination in his blue eyes. "I don't know". "Yes, you do". "Shut it and get down" she intervened, throwing Steve's shield on the grenade that flew through the window. "Go" they both said to her and for a moment they looked at each other with a single question in their eyes. Before she could do anything else, Steve grabbed her and threw her out of the window. ”You ass" she screamed on the top of her lungs before she landed on her feet. Her mind was screaming 'run and hide' but she wasn't going to listen to reason. She had to be were Steve was. She had to find them and so she knelt down and touched the ground with her hands, using her abilities to track them down. She felt the energy of the earth trembling inside her and she sent out a vibration through her slender fingers but it was already too late. She felt nothing but strangers, not a single clue to where they had gone. She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You ass" she repeated to herself thinking about how stupidly brave he acted. Trying her best to remain in control of her powers, she used her ultimate weapon; her mind skills. She wanted to believe that after all the bad things that had happened during her stay in Sokovia, something useful might have come out of it. She asked the first person she bumped into if she could use their phone. He picked up almost immediately. "How did you find this number?" Tony asked shamelessly making her question her patience once again. "I need a ride, Tony. To wherever you are" she cut to the chase without even thinking about it. There was no time to waste. He took a moment and she could almost hear his sarcastic comment coming up but hats off, he swallowed it. "Tineretului park, ten minutes. You and I ... we need to talk" he ominously told her and hung up. He knew where she was and he hadn't even tried to contact her. That hurt her a lot more than she would have imagined.

Once she set foot on that ugly building her senses tensed and her guard went up in a microsecond. Soon enough she was accompanied by a guard that led her to Tony. Steve was there - not so surprising anymore. That man turned up wherever she was. She opened the glass door and entered the secluded room, while the two of them were fighting yet again. "She's not a US citizen" Tony was about to hit Steve and she could see it so clearly. "Oh, come on, Tony" Steve saw through him. "Tony, come on. You can't mean that" she intervened, both of them suddenly acknowledging her. Steve's eyes softened, something that didn't go unnoticed by Tony who squeezed his. "They don't grant visas to weapons of mass destruction" he went on, making her temper snap. "She's a kid!" Steve raised his voice at the same time she was about to- but she was going to say something totally different. She grew silent as if someone had punched her in her chest. Wanda wasn't that much younger than her and it hit her like a tornado. Had she been a kid to him all that time? "Give me a break! I'm doing what has to be done . . . to stave off something worse" Tony yelled, momentarily losing his cool too. "That's not the way to do it" she faintly informed him. She knew that her feelings towards Steve wasn't their first priority but she needed to know. "You keep telling yourself that" Steve said disapproving his decisions. He placed down a pen and commented dryly. "Hate to break up the set" as he left the office when one of the monitors was showing Bucky. She had no idea what to do but she before she could storm out and follow Steve, Tony halted her demanding a conversation. "So, did you screw them both? They sure look at you like they want to" he commented dryly but somehow she just puffed. "I am not you Tony. And this is not about them, it's about us. I can't be with you in this one. It's just not right, dad" she finally told him. It didn't matter if he wouldn't listen. "You not signing the Accords or you helping them? Because yes, they are not right" he retorted using sarcasm as a defend mechanism. She moved closer to the door, not wanting to play any more games. "Listen, I would never have signed those, not after the things I've seen and done. And I am helping them because they are right. Bucky didn't bomb the UN thing in Vienna. He was in Bucharest. We were in Bucharest. But you already knew that, right?" she looked at him in a way that made him reconsider. He had a daughter and he had been an ass; he knew that. He rolled his eyes and focused on the pens. "Fine, fine. Just tell me this. Is Capsicle that important to you?" he asked her but he saw just how much in her eyes. She took a moment - nothing had changed. "He is" she finally admitted - to herself mostly. She needed to hear herself saying it out loud. They were exhausted but they both had keep fighting for what they believed. She left him alone as she tried to locate Steve but not a moment later all hell broke loose. Shivers run down her spine and she could sense the fragile state of everyone she cared about. She knew where she had to go and made a run for it. It was always day like this one she had to pretend she didn't feel, to play the great role that HYDRA made her play for the first time only problem was, she wasn't the same person any more. She had changed and it affected everything. He affected her in the most enticing way. She remembered the first time she felt that different squeeze around her heart and even though she knew it wasn't technically an organ that could feel emotions, she ignored her common sense and got lost in his eyes.

It was late, she knew that but it didn't stop her from softly nudging him. He was leaning against the glass door frame, looking outside, not a single light was turned on. He wasn't startled, if anything, when he turned to greet her, he was somewhat happy she had found him. He offered a small feeble smile but at least it was a real one and that mattered most. She took in every little detail of his face in the dead of night and without using her voice, she told him it was going to be okay. He had a bit on green in his baby blue eyes, his brows were knitted together when he thought too hard but he looked tired - not just physically, she didn't even know if that could happen, but that kind of emotional exhaustion that made it difficult to pull through. “I learnt to hold my self longer than I wanted to” she said to the scenery that unfolded in front of her eyes. “I’ve dealt with pain alone, so no one could use my wounds and scars against me" she went on as she had his full attention and she didn't even know it. She winced in the mere memory but she didn't regret it- maybe she would have preferred to learn the lesson without so much torture but still... "Did it work?" he asked her, still not looking at her. He felt her energy vibrating through the thin air that separated them. She smiled and turned her face towards his with sadness in her eyes. "All it took was one pair of eyes and everything I thought I controlled came crushing down" she admitted without holding back her insecurities. He saw her for who she was- beautiful, ethereal, dangerous and powerful but soft and gentle. What a different way to exist, he thought. "I have no idea what kind of influence I actually have on people, or to what degree I’ve actually affected decisions people have made or the way they think about things. And I just want to be the most positive force I can be, because I know how absolutely crucial that is. And I’m trying really hard to be the inspiration and the hope that people might need but it's hard to appear all positive when... well you're not" he found himself telling her without any kind of masks on. To him, that was the most intimate moment he ever had. She understood that much, he was an easy one to read. She rested her head on his shoulder without asking for permission as she felt him all tensed for a second. "Oh I know. You're good with people Steve, I've told you that. And you want to be that positive fucking little unicorn because it's who you are. Not the best soldier, no you are not a follower, you're a leader, but a unique person" she half whispered, her words softer than feathers. He was utterly captivated by her even though she was a Stark. "I am not a positive fucking little unicorn" he mocked her in playful way she hadn't seen before. She gasped in shock. "Golden Boy swears. That's the stuff. Oh, you're so much sexier now" she joked too but somewhere between those blurred lines, she knew she would admit everything if he asked her. He tried to laugh silently but the vibrations gave him away. Slowly, he placed his arm around her waist bringing her closer to him. He gave her enough time to step away if she felt uncomfortable but she didn't. Her breath was in harmony with his. They stayed in silence in the dark, looking outside, wishing they were stars, far away and so beautiful in their tragedy. "I know what you're doing. You don't have to. Not with me" he told her after a while, softly making her turn to his face with a puzzled look. Facing her was so much more difficult than simply holding her. "And what is that?" she genuinely asked him, not even considering the possibility of such an answer. "You made people believe that you are just fighting everyone’s demons away when in reality, you were making them your own. You don't have to do that for me, doll" he tenderly breathed, not knowing when or how did his hands cup her face. She was deliberately waiting for her mind to give her an answer but that never happened. And so, she listened to her heart. "How can I not?" she airily asked as she stepped back to look at him. He realized his hands were still craving to hold her. There was something about the night he liked more - maybe because he felt free to be who he was, or maybe because she was there. It took him a while to answer and that made her think she had over-stepped her boundaries. She was about to walk away, when he reached for her wrist, spun her around and kissed her. Many people had tried to kiss her before, that... that was different. It had meaning. His lips were soft and almost unsure of his actions but his hands were steady and strong, one cupping her face and the other wrapping her closer. She tasted the sweetness in his mouth along with a faint hint of smoke and she smiled in the kiss. She had been craving that moment a long time.

She saw him with Sam and ran towards them. Red emergency lights were flashing all around them. There were many agents slumped on the floor. All of them out cold. She knew it. "Help me. Help" a quirky voice told them. Steve looked at her in relief. At least she was okay. She found Zemo in a heap inside the chamber. Steve was hot on her heels. "Get up" he barked as he grabbed Zemo and shoved him against the wall. "Who are you? What do you want?" he asked him repeatedly. "To see an empire fall" he finally said with a glorious smile. As Sam entered, Bucky swung his fist and smashed through the wall. Bucky grabbed Sam by the jaw and threw him at the open pod. Steve lurched into the fight and landed a punch which Bucky barely felt. She felt as if all air had left her lungs. Bucky kicked Steve out of the chamber as his punch went through the elevator door. No matter what Steve did, Bucky wasn't there. "Stop" she screamed as loud as she could, letting her powers fly from her fingers to stop Steve from falling down the elevator shaft. They were chasing him, trying to control the damage but he was stronger. She found him blasting bullets to her father, stunning him. They never saw eye to eye, but that was a whole other level. Sharon rushed to Bucky and for the first time she actually liked the blond woman. He flipped Sharon head over heels and smashed her onto a table when she wrapped her legs around his neck and placed her hands on his head, using her manipulation powers. He stopped for a nanosecond and then slammed her onto the floor. T'Challa came from nowhere and kicked him off. She saw that they were fighting but didn't stay around. He wasn't going to be there for a long time, he would knock them out and flee. She decided to use Tony's gift. For the first - and last - time. She was always wearing it around her wrist like a bracelet but it was so much more than that. She climbed to the top of the building and pressed the small button. The bracelet expanded into a suit; an armor not very Iron Man-like. After all, he had designed it for her, cleverly leaving her hands uncovered for her to use her powers, the soft leather hugged her body perfectly while the reinforced metal parts of the suit covered her chest and back. What Tony didn't exclude were 'the hovering thingies' as she called them, enabling her to actually fly. Bucky marched up to a blue chopper and pulled the lock off the door. Steve rushed outside and run toward the rising chopper while she had just landed on the roof, surprising them. Steve made a crazy leap and grabbed the landing gear as he started to pull hard and the chopper struggled to gain height. The chopper dragged him onto the weak looking mesh framing the helipad. She kicked off and flew around it, landing the perfect amount of power to knock it to the roof. The rotor-blades were smashed to pieces and Steve ducked as the tail swung around. The chopper was there, twisted on the mesh at the edge of the pad. She tried to prevent it but Bucky's arm smashed through the glass and he grabbed Steve by his throat. She twisted his arm away from Steve but as she tried to untangle them, the chopper fell into the river. She stopped her fall centimeters away from the water with her suit and once she saw Steve surfacing with Bucky, she dived down and carried them both out.

Taglist: @accio-rogers @coffee-with-orion @moli1497 @stydia-4-ever @smilexcaptainx

#captain america #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #the winter soldier #the winter solider imagine #tony stark imagine #Avengers #avengers imagine

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deejadabbles · 5 years

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Spells of Defiance (Atem x Reader x Yugi) Chapter 2

Two: Yugi

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven //// [Eight coming soon]

Summary: The Circle of Magicians protects the world from rogue, murderous fey. The police who keep bloodsuckers and flesh-eaters in check. You’ve hunted vampires for years, earning a reputation as one of the best magicians in that field; but what happens when an encounter with a particular vampire makes your already fragile loyalties split?

Supernatural/Demon Hunter AU. Vampire!Atem x Reader x Incubus!Yugi (yes, a polyamorous relationship). Warnings for cursing, vulgar language, violence, and some sexual themes.

This is a fic I’ve already posted this on my AO3 but I wanted to spread the Yu-gi-oh x Reader love here on tumblr.

A brief stop at the mess hall ensured several things, that you heeded the vampire's worry and got some food in you, as well as make your presence known to anyone who saw you go into the prison wing, alleviating any suspicions they might have on if you had a prison break in mind. Most of all, however, it gave you the chance to talk to Mahad about something that troubled you all day.

After sitting in the chair opposite him at his usual table, you told him about the strange thing that happened when Marik's follower bit your right arm. You had been bitten by several vampires over the years and the one just moments ago proved that the hot pain wasn't some new reaction you developed. Though you omitted Atem's bite, Mahad seemed quite interested in your story. He asked to look at your hand, the one with the Circle's seal on it, and examined the brand closely.

"I think the chemical vampires inject when they bite a victim reacted to the magic seal," he had concluded eventually. "Since the seal constantly feeds magic into your body, it likely reacted poorly to the vampire curative, like two incompatible chemicals igniting."

Well, that had been a good enough explanation for you. At least the thought that Marik was giving his followers some strange new powers was pushed down on your list of possibilities.

After your business there was taken care of, you retired to the second floor of the Sanctuary where everyone's quarters were. Your room, like every magician's, was small and devoid of much personalization aside from the stray trinket or two. Shelves were full of Circle-issued books, herbs, and tools mainly used for your job as a magician. It wasn't much, but at least it was yours.

You knew you needed rest, but too many thoughts swirled in your head as you curled up in bed. Possible ways to help Atem, how you could pull it off and what to do after you did. Several options for both bid for your attention, making you feel scatterbrained and restless.

Knowing that lack of sleep would only impede your ability to complete whatever plan you came up with, you eventually had to get up and take a vial from your stockpile of sleeping drafts. It was a drastic measure, you didn't like how the potion usually...amped up the weirdness of your dreams, but it was better than lying awake all night.

Once it had taken hold and you finally fell into sleep, it quickly became apparent that that particular side effect was doing wonders tonight. In the dream you were still lying in bed, only now instead of feeling disoriented and fitful, you sighed in relief as a wave of calm washed over you, leaving you content, warm, and...excited all at the same time somehow. You were even made aware of how wonderful the fabric of your clothes felt against your body, the garb not being your usual night clothes, but something silken and much more revealing. Then you dreamt of an arm, sliding its way across your hip before a firm hand gripped it. Fingers started stroking your hair and you hummed in delight as something else warm and soft draped lazily across your thigh.

"Are you comfortable?" a voice you couldn't ever remember hearing before whispered from behind. The voice was sweet and gentle, not unlike a butterfly's wings. You only hummed in response as the fingers continued to massage your scalp and temples, so the voice continued. "Good. Now, tell me about your day. I heard there was a trial, something involving a vampire?"

Memories of Atem's plight invaded your dreams. The both of you fighting side by side, his judgment by the people you served, his cell and his fangs piercing your skin with such care. The flash of memories felt almost painful. This was wrong. Why were some scenes replaying trice over behind your eyes? The fingers continued to soothe, and the soft string by your thighs swished slowly across your bare skin.

Then the sense of wrongness pitched to a high bar as something dug deeper. Memories of touring the Sanctuary played like a movie in your mind. Distant voices, the voices of guards posted at the cells were trying to swim to the surface as well. Something was looking for answers in your head. The thing swaying lazily at your thighs- how could you not have realized it was a tail the moment it touched you? And the hands stroking so gently, they had minor but undeniable claws to them!

Your mind was yours again in an instant and so was your body. You grabbed the wrist of the hand at your head and heard a gasp from the melodic voice. One swift motion and you were atop the invader. A second and his clawed hands were pinned down by your knees on either side of him. Your own hands were free to strike if needed- though you noticed your current state of dress and that made you lose an ounce or two of security. The sheer fabric of the negligee sent waves of vulnerability to your core, even as you stared daggers down at the incubus trapped beneath you.

His lavender eyes were naturally large, but they were widened in shock and, though he obviously tried to hide it, fear. Heat gathered in your right palm as you called on your fire, and you kicked your glare up to a ten as you addressed the demon.

"What the hell do you think you're doing invading the dreams of a magician, incubus?"

He wasn't trying to escape your grasp, knowing a physical struggle was pointless in the world of sleep. "I wasn't doing anything perverse if that's what you think." When you cocked your eyebrow and darted your eyes down to the lingerie you were dressed in, he actually flushed a pronounced pink color and looked away. "You d-dressed yourself in that, not me! It must have been conjured up when your subconscious picked up on...my type of magic."

The term 'pleasure magic' hung unspoken but heavy in the air between you two, since both of you knew what his 'type' was. You ignored the sudden wave of embarrassment upon remembering that you had been admiring this particular outfit in a store a couple of weeks ago. That wasn't important right now, you knew he wasn't here for a typical feeding, not with what was flashing in your head just a minute ago.

"You were looking for info on Atem. Why?" You kept your voice and gaze as firm and cold as steel, even when the incubus met your eyes again and you saw his own steel under the lavender irises.

"I can't tell you that."

Oh, he knew you couldn't actually do much in the dream world, but that was okay.

"Fine, have it your way."

You gripped the collar of his button-up in a firm grasp as you began chanting your spell, and that's when he did start to struggle. It was too late though. You plunged your grip into his very being, his life force, and pulled his essence along the tenuous connection he himself had made between you two in order to enter your mind. And just like that, his enchantment -the dream- faded, but his body became more solidified beneath your grip. You had hauled him through space from wherever he was hiding and into your room. Wasting no time once his physical being was there, you threw him off your bed and to the floor.

He hit the ground with a thud, but you hadn't put enough strength behind the move to cause him real pain. Damn, his huge leathery wings might be a problem in your tiny bedroom. His spade-tipped tail swished behind him as he took a defensive stance, still on all fours on the ground. Even with that, you sensed no real fight in him. Oh, he would definitely fight if he needed to, but, something in his eyes said he didn't want to fight you. So, not liking the idea yourself, even after his invasion of your privacy, you lessened the aggressiveness of your own stance. At least you were back in your actual PJ's in the real world, you felt much less vulnerable now.

"I just teleported your ass to the worst place a rogue fey can be," you started, keeping your tone cool. "Tell me why you were rifling through my head, and I might let you go."

The incubus did not respond at first, he looked as though he was weighing something in his mind carefully. You hadn't noticed it at first, the thick curling horns atop his head having obscured some of his hair, but, now that you got a better look at him, the demon bore quite a resemblance to Atem. They couldn't be related. Incubi and succubi were born demons, vampires were humans made into demons either by other vampires or by dark magicians casting a curse. Maybe they just liked the same brand of hair gel or something.

"You were trying to help him."

The incubus' words drew your attention from his face at large and more directly to his eyes. You honestly couldn't tell if his tone was accusatory or something else, but either way, a suspicion came to mind that you did not like.

"Are you working for Marik? Were you trying to find out how much the Circle knows about his little cult?"

The demon's brow creased in anger at the name. "No! I would never work for that monster!"

"Then why-" you stopped yourself, another thought popping into your head as you remembered what memories the incubus had been searching through. He not only searched for scenes of Atem but for your knowledge of the prison wing's layout. You made your voice a bit more gentle as you asked, "What's your name?"

The man again looked wary, considering. "...Yugi."

Your posture relaxed even more now and you actually sighed with relief. Yugi must have assumed he was safe because he too relaxed, getting up from his crouch slowly.

"Atem told you about me?"

"He asked me to find you and tell you what happened to him. He didn't want you to be left wondering." You crossed your arms, giving him an almost amused smirk. "I don't think he expected you to use your magic and go digging around in a magician's head."

Yugi blushed just a tad again but his voice was even as he said, "I'm sorry for invading your privacy, but I thought you were the magician who arrested him. When I saw your memories of the past couple days though..." He gave you an odd look, as if he was almost perplexed by you, though not in a bad way. "You were trying to prove he was innocent. You fought for him, you even let him..." his eyes flickered to your left wrist and the phantom feel of Atem's gentle bite pulsed there.

Feeling suddenly embarrassed again you moved the conversation along. "Look, I know what you were looking for in my mind, you want to break Atem out, but I'm telling you now it's not possible. There are wards and seals all around the prison wing and you can't get in without a magician's seal," you waved your right palm at him. "You'll just end up getting killed if you try to rescue him by yourself."

Again his eyes filled with an anger that you already suspected was uncommon for him. His eyes were meant to be soft and sparkling, not filled with hate.

"I'm not going to just stand by and let the Circle kill him! I can't!"

"Hey, hold on there, Yugi," you held up your hands to keep him calm, even with your noise canceling charms around the room, if he got too loud your neighbors might hear him. "I just said you can't do it by yourself." When his eyes exchanged anger for a soft flicker of hope, you couldn't help but smile. "Luckily for you, I'm not going to let them kill Atem either. And...your help might make things a lot easier on me..."

Even though your specialty was vampires, you knew quite a lot about pretty much all fey races, including the talents of incubi and succubi. They weren't just good at invading people's dreams and making your wildest sex fantasies come true, most were also talented at glamor charms. It went hand in hand with the whole 'fulfilling their desires' thing, not to mention it was necessary to turn their wings, horns, and tails invisible if they walked among humans.

After a short talk with Yugi, you were assured that he was one who could extend that talent to turn himself, and others, invisible altogether. That was a tool you needed in order to pull off the 'sneaking Atem out' portion of your plan. If you cast an invisibility spell your fellow magicians would have a higher chance of sensing it and catching on to your plan. Yugi's brand of magic was different, It was less attune to a magician's senses. Like radio waves on slightly different frequencies.

You were glad that you had two endurance potions in your personal stock, you and Yugi had needed them by the morning. Not only were you up for hours discussing your plans but, when you tried to get a few hours rest, you simply couldn't fall asleep with an incubus so close. You knew Yugi meant no harm, he was easily one of the most respectful and gentle seeming demons you'd ever met, but that didn't mean the teachings of not trusting such creatures went away easily. Twice you had jerked awake and automatically reached for your silver dagger when your subconscious sensed his demonic energy so close.

You hated it. Hated that they had taught you to kill his kind with little to no questions. It was an impulse and teaching you had fought your entire life. Still, at least in this instance, being able to look down, see Yugi curled up on the carpet with your spare blanket and his peaceful sleeping face made you come back to your senses in a snap. He was so quick to trust you. You wondered if you yourself could ever get to that point.

At least now, in the waking world, you had enough control over your emotions to trust him. He was practically pressed against your back as you two walked down the halls of the Sanctuary, his form invisible to everyone. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and if it wasn't for the fact that you had gleaned much of his gentle personality the night before, your instincts would be screaming at him being so close to such a vulnerable spot.

"I know we talked about this a lot last night," Yugi whispered in your ear, wary that the glamor would do nothing to hide his voice from passing magicians, "but are you sure it's best to do this during the day? Wouldn't it be easier at night?"

"Night is when they'd expect a vampire to escape," you muttered back, barely moving your lips. "Don't worry, Yugi. Everything will be fine. Just follow my lead and we'll be okay."

You heard him draw in a deep breath, "I know. I trust you."

That gentle, easy omission almost made you stop in your tracks, but you quickly pushed it to the back of your mind. Both of you needed to focus, there was no time for sentimentality.

It was a long trek from your quarters to the prison wing and the first half of that walk went by without incident, no other magician's paid you or your invisible friend any mind. That is, until a certain shade wearing blonde rounded a corner and locked eyes on you.

You cursed under your breath as Keith stormed towards you across the wide hallway. Trying to duck him would just make matters worse, better to address the threat now. Keith wouldn't do much with everyone else in the hall anyway, you just hoped he kept his distance while he barked.

"Heard your little cry-fest didn't do your pet vampire any good," Keith smirked as he came nearer. "But I gotta bone to pick with you."

Keith advanced and you couldn't escape. Damn him, you weren't the only one who knew how to corner prey. You backed into a wall and felt your back press against Yugi's chest. He took in a sharp breath and, almost as if on instinct, wrapped his arms around your middle. Poor guy obviously felt the need to hold his breath as Keith closed in and planted his fist on the wall beside your head.

"That little stunt you pulled yesterday is gonna cost you, girly. That was my favorite jacket."

"What, I didn't do anything," you defended against his attempt to intimidate. "I'm guessing your jackets burst into flames all the time, better than being on your back all day in any case."

If the comment annoyed him at all, it didn't show, his smirk only grew. "Cute. Bet you won't be cute when I drag ya in front of the Council." He dropped his tone to a conspiratorial whisper, like a teen sharing gossip. "See, I know about your little trip down to the dungeons after lockdown last night. My guess is your vampire boy loved the company." Somehow his grin turned even more sadistic, "You got a fang fetish or something? Yeah, that's it, isn't it? Always knew you were a freak."

The arms around your waist tightened and Yugi let out a low rumble in his throat.

Keith's eyebrows knitted beneath his shades, "Did you just growl at-" He paused, his forehead wrinkling even further. Then his head jerked slightly. "The hell?"

His fist lowered from its spot by your head as Keith turned away a bit. He cursed under his breath again, then stepped away from you completely, looking quite frazzled even with his shades covering half of his face. The next moment Keith was powerwalking down the hall, throwing some half distracted comment about 'dealing with you later' over his shoulder as his fingers ran ragged through his hair.

"What did you do?" you whispered to Yugi, bewildered and still looking at Keith's retreating form.

You felt the incubus shrug against your back. "He seems like the type of man who doesn't appreciate gay porn, so, I planted an hour-long loop of it in his head."

You had to bite your lip quickly to keep from bursting out in laughter, oh, Keith was never going to forget this! The more you thought about it the more you wanted to laugh. Yugi, apparently having just realized that he had grabbed hold of you, finally unwrapped his arms from your waist. You took the chance to dart down a less crowded adjacent hallway and, the moment you were sure no one would see you, doubled over and let out a deep, long laugh.

You sensed Yugi join your side but you couldn't stop laughing, especially when the thought of Keith walking around, smacking his temples like a hazy TV to get the images to stop popped into your head. He was going to be very traumatized for the next hour.

"I- I can't remember the last time I la-laughed this hard!" you finally managed, trying to catch your breath. You honestly didn't, while you had managed to retain a sense of humor over the years, life as a demon hunter didn't offer much laughter.

Finally, you regained control of yourself, though you flashed a smile at where you assumed Yugi was standing before you stepped back out into the main hallway and resumed your walk to the prison wing. Again Yugi remained close behind you, obviously trying to keep calm while being in a proverbial hornet's nest, especially when other magicians passed close by. Still, you managed to get to your destination without trouble.

There was no one at the main entrance, but you knew guards would be patrolling the wing, and again, Yugi's magic would come in handy. After you pressed your palm to the magic seal on the door, stepped inside, and assured that no one was within sight, you shut the door behind you and turned to Yugi.

"Okay, glamor me like how I told you last night."

While he worked his magic, Yugi's imagine became viable in a shimmer, though only for a moment. An odd sensation of excitement washed through you as the spell took hold and he was finished in just a few seconds. You looked down at yourself and felt that the clothes were very much...not you. Neither was the curtain of flowing locks long enough to tuck into your belt, the hair color was the exact opposite of your own. Good, the whole point of this glamor was so the first prisoner you spoke to or anyone who caught a glimpse of you here wouldn't recognize you.

"When we approach this prisoner remember what I told you, Yugi. He may look like an innocent kid, but he's not. He's almost a hundred and fifty years old, dragons just age slower."

You heard the concern in Yugi's voice when he answered, "He's not going to hurt anyone, is he? Aren't you worried that he's one of the fey who really should be locked in here?"

"No. He doesn't have a history of violence," you tried to make your tone reassuring, even giving him what you hoped was a calm smile. "In fact, the only reason he's in here at all is because of his big brother. The Council was hoping to get some info about him and maybe even prove that he's been involved in his brother's shady adventures." You shrugged. "I don't know, he just doesn't seem like the type, and even if was helping out his brother, those dragons are way at the bottom of our 'most dangerous' list. I don't see the harm in breaking the kid out."

"I thought you said he wasn't a kid," Yugi's tone sounded quite amused.

You rolled your eyes, "Just follow me."

The little dragon's less than violent record was not the only reason you were willing to break him free. His cell was on the far side of the prison, opposite Atem's cell, making the little one a perfect distraction.

It felt wrong to say his cell was 'nice' but honestly, considering what the other prisoners were stuck with, it was. A nicer bed (though still a cot), a TV, books, and even a heater to keep his cold-blooded body warm. Whether his special treatment was due to the fact that the Council wanted him on their side, or because they feared retribution from his older brother if they treated him too harshly, you weren't sure.

When you stepped in front of his cell the youngling dragon was laid out on his cot, arms behind his head and eyes closed. Also looking quite human in his current form, unable to change into his winged form with the magical wards surrounding the prison.

He greeted you with a smug tone, "Day three. You guys are really pushing your luck keeping me here. Big brother's gonna be breaking down your walls to get me back any day now."

"What if you didn't have to wait?"

Your tone of voice drew his attention and his eyes snapped open, their gray depths locking on yours. "Who're you?"

"Someone who needs a distraction. I can get you out of the cell, and even give you directions to a section of this wing where I weakened the wards that keep you from transforming."

He sat up, looking suspicious, hopeful, and excited all at the same time. "What's the catch?"

"Like I said, I need a distraction. After you transform and go crashing through the nearest wall, I just want you to make an even bigger mess in the courtyard. Don't kill anyone, just draw as much attention as possible before you fly off."

"Did Seto send you?"

"No, but think how impressed your big brother will be when you come home all on your own."

Kids, human, dragon, or otherwise, would be kids, and kids liked to look cool. He agreed to your terms in a heartbeat, and after opening his cell and sending him on his way, you and Yugi booked it to Atem's cell.

It wasn't hard to avoid the two guards patrolling the halls, especially with your knowledge of their patterns and Yugi's help.

Much like the night before, Atem must have caught your scent on the air, not just yours though. He called out both yours and Yugi's names in surprised worry as he pressed himself as close to the silver bars as possible. Yugi finally let his invisibility glamor fall as you both came into view and Atem's eyes widened when he looked at him.

"What are you doing here?!" He tried to step closer to the bars, looking ready to grab Yugi and shake him for coming after him, but he hisses at the sting of silver.

"We came to rescue you!" Yugi replied innocently.

Atem turned his scolding eyes to you, then flinched slightly when he took in your very different appearance. Yugi muttered an 'oppose, forgot to drop the glamor' before waving his hand and returning you to normal. Atem was over the shock in a second.

"Neither of you should be here. If you're caught, they'll kill all three of us! I won't have either of you getting hurt because of me!"

"Oh shut up," you snapped, "have a little faith in us, Atem. Yugi's a pretty smart guy and with my help we'll be able to pull this off- as long as you don't put up a fuss." To make your words all the more firm, you folded your arms and matched his hard gaze.

In your peripherals you caught Yugi giving a smile that was almost a smirk. "You heard her, Atem, don't make a fuss. We're getting you out and that's final."

The vampire closed his eyes, and the way his fangs poked through as he sighed looked almost cute. "Fine." He opened his eyes again and looked over at the tiny window that let in a beam of afternoon sun into the hallway. "I assume you have a way to prevent me from bursting into flames the moment we step outside?"

"Yup, luckily for you sometimes magicians need to transport vampires during the day, and I know an enchantment to do that." You held up a golden ring etched with runes. "It'll only last a few hours when I activate the enchantment, but it should be more than enough to get you out." Before you could explain any more of the plan, a thunderous crash that shook the ground followed by a roar cut you off. The little dragon was finally on his way out. "That's our cue."

You raised your right hand, the seal on your palm glowing and connecting to the lock on the cell. The moment the mechanism clicked, Yugi grabbed the bars of the door and threw it open. The moment it was, you tossed the enchanted ring to the vampire and told Yugi to do his thing, just as shouting echoed down the stone hall, frantic and calling for backup to hold off the dragon. When you looked back and saw that Yugi had turned himself and Atem invisible the next phase of your plan started.

The dragon youngling made good on his word and wreaked so much havoc on the Sanctuary's courtyard that the hallways were practically empty as the three of you ran for it. Even the few magicians you did pass didn't spare you more than a glance, likely assuming that you were on a mission for something specific. The echoes of the invisible feet running behind you didn't even draw notice in the commotion that could be heard clearly from outside.

"Are we truly planning on simply walking out the front door?" Atem hissed behind you.

"No, it's more like the back door the way she described it," Yugi answered.

"We just need to get out of range from the Sanctuary's wards and I can teleport us out of here. Now keep quiet before someone hears us!"

To your horror, silence had just fallen between the three of you, when two figures turned a corner and almost knocked right into you. You skidded to a halt so fast you feared that the boys wouldn't be able to avoid colliding with your back. They managed not to by a hair.

"Whoa! Sorry!" the shorter of the two called.

"Oh, Mana." Your attention immediately darted up to her companion and your eyes locked with Mahad's. Your spine gave a slight shiver at how he already looked suspicious.

"Where are you off to?" he asked, trying to keep his tone gentle.

"Councilman Rhodes asked me to get something from his office, to help with the escaping dragon." Good thing you already had an excuse ready.

Mahad raised an eyebrow. Then, the horror inside your stomach screamed again as he looked behind you and narrowed his eyes. Without another word, Mahad waved his hand and chanted a familiar spell. You wanted to scream out loud as you turned, and saw Yugi's glamor fall. Both men stood there, frozen and wide-eyed and completely visible.

Mana gasped, "Atem! You were using the attack to sneak him out!" Then her face fell from surprise to confusion as she looked Yugi up and down, "Who's the incubus?"

"Atem's lover, I assume." Mahad's eyes darted from them to you and not for the first time in your life, you felt like Mahad was reading your very soul like a book. He had always been able to tell volumes about a person just by looking at them.

As you and the boys were still frozen on the spot, not knowing what to do, Mana looked up at her mentor with pleading eyes. "Master...if we turn them in, all three of them will be executed." Her eyes darted back to you, "She was just trying to do what was right!"

All you could manage was to look the man directly in his eyes. There was no chance at overpowering a skilled magician like Mahad. Your fates were in his hands now.

He held your gaze for another long moment, before he closed them and turned away. "Then I guess it is a good thing that we didn't see them. Let's go, Mana."

"Yes, sir!" the girl said, her usual cheerful manner back as she winked at you and followed her teacher down the hallway.

It took a moment to realize what just happened, but, after that moment, it really didn't surprise you. Mahad followed rules, yes, but above all else, he was a good and fair man.

"Thank you," Atem's voice called after the two magicians and Mahad actually stopped at the words.

"Take care of her. She's throwing the only life she's ever known away right now." He looked over his shoulder and gave you one final serious stare. "Even if we keep quiet, the Council will find out. You know that."

You only had to wait a second before you answered with, "I don't care."

The profound look of understanding that crossed Mahad's eyes almost caught you off guard. Perhaps he wished he could do the same as you. But a second later he and Mana resumed their walking, the latter giving you one last wave of goodbye before they turned another corner.

When you looked back at the boys to tell Yugi to cast his spell again, you jolted at how both of them were staring at you. Had they assumed you could just send them on their way and come back to the Circle without the Council discovering what you did? No, they were too smart for that assumption. More like having it said out loud made it real for them...and they seemed torn over the idea that you were giving up, well, everything for them. You didn't like the hints of guilt in their eyes.

"Come on, we got a lot of ground to cover still."

Teleportation spells...they just weren't your forte. But it was the best way to get plenty of distance between you and the Sanctuary while they realized what you'd done. So you just had to endure the strain of teleporting yourself and two passengers the moment you were out of the building's magical reach.

Your body hit the ground hard, the dry leaves and dirt doing little to break your fall and you heard two similar thuds come right after you before your portal closed. Letting out a groan, you rolled onto your hand's and knees, hoping there weren't too many bruises as you looked over your companions who were once again visible.

"You two okay? I've never teleported that many people."

Yugi sat up on his knees and flapped one of his wings gingerly. "I'll be okay," he winced.

Both of you looked around the forest to find Atem, and there was a strange flutter in your chest when you saw him standing in a ray of sun. The light illuminated his face, only enhancing his look of wonder as he looked up at the blue sky between the trees.

"I had heard of enchantments that allow vampires to walk in the sunlight but..." he looked back at the two of you and his smile was so happy it made your heart ache. "I never thought I would see this again."

Yugi rose from the forest floor and walked to Atem, immediately pulling him into a tight embrace, something he had likely wanted to do since he saw him in the cell. You felt a sudden wash of shame as you watched the affection, though you couldn't pinpoint why. You shouldn't blame yourself for what the Circle did...even if you were part of that very clan.

Not wanting to intrude on their proper reunion, you busied yourself with that task of finding the backpack you had stashed in the forest that morning. It was a large thing, though, quite small when one realized that it had all of your possessions stuffed inside. It wasn't as if you could go back for your things after breaking Atem out.

When you returned to where the men were they had parted from their embrace and you saw looks of worry on their faces as the peered through the trees. When they spotted you, their mutual worry eased in an instant.

"I assume you never told the council where you or Yugi live, right?" you asked before they could say anything to you.

Atem shook his head. "We should be safe, so long as they don't find it too important to track us down." He looked over at Yugi with a smirk. "Yugi actually knows how to cast a ward or two himself, and has our home protected from tracking spells."

Oh, they lived together? Interesting.

"Just small ones," Yugi muttered, cheeks red, "I don't think they'd stand up against the Circle's heavy duty spells though."

"Don't worry. The only reason they were going to kill Atem is because they thought he was part of Marik's cult and figured it was easiest to execute him. They won't waste resources tracking him down now. But they will to find me...which brings me to a favor I need to ask of you."

Atem met your eyes, looking alert, serious, and ready. "After everything you've done, you can ask anything of me."

You set your backpack down on the ground and looked down at the magician's seal branded into your palm. An ancient mark that bound you to the Circle. A mark of servitude one might say. "If I'm going to escape the Circle myself, I need this seal removed." You closed your fingers, feeling another flood of shame. "You see, this seal doesn't just help us channel our magic and let us open doors in the Sanctuary. It...It also acts as a kill switch."

"What?" Atem's dark tone made you look up at him. He suddenly looked very angry. Yugi contrasted by looking horrified.

"In the case of a rogue magician, a magician like me, the Council can cast a spell and use the seal to kill the magician. I don't think they'll do that immediately, they'll try to capture me first, but I have no doubt that they'll resort to that eventually."

Yugi took a step forward. "You told that man that you knew the Council would find out that you betrayed them. You knew that and you still..."

"It doesn't matter, especially because I think Atem can help me get rid of the seal."

"How? How can I help," he asked, sounding on the verge of desperate.

"Yesterday a vampire bit my right arm and it hurt. It hurt like hell, not how vampire bites are supposed to feel. When I asked around the most likely conclusion is that the curative on a vampire's fangs reacts to the magic in the seal." You knew your eyes must have turned pleading as you looked at Atem, but you didn't much care somehow. "I think your bite can purge the seal's enchantment from my body. If it's magic vanishes, so does my connection with the Circle."

Atem's eyes darted to your right palm, "Are you sure it'll work?"

"No. But it's the only other option besides cutting off my hand." You gave them a wry smile. "That's plan B."

Yugi scowled, "Please don't joke about that."

You closed the distance between you and the vampire and he looked almost wary as you lifted your hand, palm up, to him. "It's worth a try." Relief filled you when Atem took your hand. "I'll warn you now, I'll probably start screaming, but don't stop. If it hurts that means it's working."

"You don't know that," Atem all but snapped, but, after a moment he looked back down at your palm and sighed. "I pray this works."

He opened his mouth and his fangs flashed in the sunlight before they pierced the skin of your palm. White hot pain filled your veins almost instantly and you clamped your mouth shut in an effort not to cry out. You didn't want Atem to feel guilty for hurting you, especially with how gentle he was trying to be, but the pain was too much and you couldn't stop the shout of agony that bubbled up from your throat. Sweat gathered on your brow and your other hand clenched so hard you were sure your nails broke the skin.

Then, you felt a pair of hands cup your face. They turned your head and you saw Yugi's beyond distraught face before he locked his purple eyes with yours. And suddenly the pain seemed to fade away, slowly but surely. It was replaced by a calm kind of excitement. Not unlike the feeling you felt when he entered your dream or when he changed your appearance with his magic. Your mind went fuzzy, and you couldn't think of anything in particular. It felt like floating under a ray of sun.

Slowly, the scene came back to you. A dull ache throbbed in your right palm as hands rubbed it and your arm with reassuring care. A wave of dizziness overtook your body and you stumbled, only to be caught in two pairs of strong arms.

"We've got you," Yugi said as they lowered you to the ground gently.

"Does it still hurt?" Atem asked as neither dared to let go of you yet.

You managed to find your voice after a few moments. "Believe it or not, it hurt worse when they gave me the mark."

Yugi looked disgusted. "And they call us the monsters."

You became aware that Atem was still gently stroking your palm with his thumb. You looked down, and you almost wanted to cry in relief when you saw that the seal was nothing but a faint pink scar now.

"I think it worked," Atem confirmed.

After a minute you managed to regain some of your strength and as you did you got the urge to remove yourself from their embrace. It felt odd to be part of such affection, though the moment you sat up, you missed the comfort.

"Thank you, Atem. This will make running from the Circle much easier." After giving the vampire a smile, you looked over at Yugi, almost amused as you remembered how Yugi had done something in the midst of your pain. "Did you use your seduction magic on me?"

As his eyes widened his face flushed, "I didn't fully seduce you! I just...you were in so much pain, I thought I could use it to block it out of your mind. It seemed to work too."

"I'm not upset. Thank you, it made all of that a lot easier."

Still with a hint of the blush, Yugi smiled back at you. Silence settled for a moment, and you knew the longer you were with them, the harder it would be to part. Damn it, why did being with them just feel so....

"You two need to get home. The enchantment on Atem's ring won't last forever and you'll want to be somewhere safe when it runs out."

When you stood up both men jumped to their feet as well, Atem actually stepping in front of you. "What do you mean 'you two'? You're coming as well."

"What? No, I shouldn't."

"Yes you should!" Yugi insisted, "You need a place to stay, stay with us!"

Your mouth opened and closed a few time, resembling a fish as you tried to think of a good reason to deny them. Then again, did you really want to?

Atem put a hand on your upper arm, "Please, stay with us. We need to look out for each other now."

A moment of contemplation. "I...o-okay. I'll stay for a while."

"Yes!" Yugi cheered, "It's settled then," he plucked your backpack from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. "Since you're still pretty shaken up from Atem's bite I'll fly us there."

"Wait, what?" your face felt drained all of the sudden. You had been in the air a few times, but somehow the imagery of this incubus trying to carry both you and Atem while flying made you fearful.

"Don't worry," Atem assured with a smile, "Yugi is stronger than he looks, he won't let you fall."

As the incubus gathered a vampire in one arm and a magician in the other you said, "But I'm just not a big fan of flyING-!" your voice pitched into something like a scream as he flapping his wings and shot into the air.

Life was certainly going to be more interesting with these two.

#atem x reader #yugi x reader #yami x reader #Atem x reader x Yugi #yugi x reader x yami #polyamorous #poly relationship #poly reader insert #series: spells of defiance

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revengeisalwaysanoption · 4 years

Text

FIC: VIENI A VEDERE PERCHE’

This was supposed to be the last chapter of “Io non ci credo, alle giraffe”, my fairy tale AU, but it ended up the one before the last (which I’m currently writing and will publish together with this one later tonight, for ‘secret’ ) somehow.

Niccolò won, of course.

It hadn't been a fair race, since climbing trees was something that he probably could have done in his sleep. Martino hadn't done in years, instead, to be honest... He had stopped after his father had reprimanded him several times for being too reckless, for not thinking about breaking his mum's heart behind if he fell off and died.

Just the memory of such tedious and hypocritical lectures - who ended up breaking mum's heart, in the end, uh? - had spurred him to go faster and faster, caring less and less if the next branch he jumped on would withstand his weight or not. If his next step would be his last.

He had reached the top of the tree just one minute after Nico. No more than sixty, insignificant, seconds.

Not too bad, right?

As expected, however, Nico didn't exactly shower him with praise when he had sat beside him.

"Ooooh, look who has decided to finally show up... I was falling asleep here, waiting for you." He nudged his shoulder, playfully, with his forehead. For a moment, he pretended to have fallen asleep on it, snoring way too loud for Martino to actually buy his silly pantomime. If anything, it made him laugh.

"Do you really fall asleep that quickly? Must be nice, to have such an untroubled mind..." He said, tauntingly. Realising straight away what he had just done, he backtracked with a wince. "... you might not know it, but my name echoes in the forests of all realms."

"Never heard of any Elios before you." Nico didn't seem to mind his slip up, and was still smiling softly. Flicking Marti's nose once, twice, three times... until Martino himself had to stop him and murmur 'if you don't stop it immediately I'm going to cut off that fucking finger... the whole hand, really, while I am at it’ and Niccolò had gone all <i>'You wouldn't. If you knew what this hand could do for you...' while teasingly squeezing on his thigh.

He gently removed it, mindlessly skimming over his knuckles and intertwining their little fingers as he placed that obnoxious hand back on Niccolò's own lap. Unable to bear the heat and the fondness of his gaze - amazed at how he was able to give both vibes at the same time, with the same intensity - he looked up at the sky.

Wow... It had been ages since he had last seen the White Trail so clearly, and the fluctuating flames - which is mom liked to call 'dancing curtains' - which spiralled in bursts of green, red and blue.

He had been about to tell Nico his actual name, and then he had completely forgotten about it. It only occurred to him after he had heard 'Elio... Elio... ELIO!‘ whispered over and over again.

Right.

Niccolò still didn't know his real name, and here there was the perfect opportunity to give it to him.

"Actually, Ni..." He murmured, but Nico didn't hear him since he was speaking as well.

"Are you still awake?" He asked, softly. So tenderly, really, that Martino couldn't find the question as absurd and idiotic as he usually would.

"No, this is my brain's answering machine. You can leave a message, if you'd like." He joked, making Niccolò smile so big and bright that he could see those white teeth shine in the twilight.

"Okay. So... I'm sorry if I interrupted you. What were you about to share with me? One of your darkest secrets, perhaps? Your name, at last?" He gave Martino the perfect chance to come clean, handed it on a silver platter... So, of course, he couldn't take it. It would have been too easy, wouldn't it?

"I'm sorry. The person you are looking for is unavailable at the moment. Please try again later. Thank you. You may go first, in the meantime." He insisted, encouraging Niccolò to continue.

"Okay, so... I haven't forgotten, I promise. I still owe you an explanation..." Again, in the span of a instant, Nico had turned serious. Forlorn, like it pained him to think about it. Well, of course. His grandma had probably passed away not too long ago - and that might have been the event that triggered his escape to the Forsaken Forest - and Marti's curiosity was forcing him to relieve that.

Thanks, but no thanks.

"You don't have to give itl me, if you'd rather not... It's not like you promised, and it's not really

a vital piece of information... " He reached out, to stoke his cheek with the utmost care. He hoped that small gesture proved to be comforting, at least a bit, for Niccolò.

"You're unbelievable..." Nico said, but it didn't sound like it was a bad thing. "... it's just... that it's actually quite a basic, boring, story? She was one of the Greatest Wizards of the Lands, and this particular tree was her favourite crossing spot. It's still so imbued with her magic that it feels like she's still here, you know?"

It made sense, he supposed, for anyone with the slightest receptivity to magic. Which wasn't him, of course.

"It's Martino, by the way." He couldn't say he knew, so he did the next best thing.

"Oh?" Niccolò's face brightened up once more, not quite believing Marti had finally given in.

"I'm Martino Rametta." He suddenly got up, taking Niccolò's hand in his and shaking it. "Fancy meeting you here, sir. And you are?"

"All right, Mr. Rametta. If you must know, I'm a baron. Baron Niccolò Massimiliano Francesco Ludovico Of The House of Fares. Others have dubbed me as 'the Baron in the trees', but you can call me... LudoNico." He stuck his nose up in the in air, tucking a rebellious curl behind his ear.

"Thanks, I hate it. I'd prefer to stick to Niccolò." Marti scowled, but he soon mellowed out as Nico leaned in with a devilish grin on his face. What... What was he about to do?

Why his face was so close to Marti's, all of a sudden?

"As long as it's not Nicco, we're good." Nico conceded, moving away.

Martino had really thought... He hadn't been reading too much into that, or hallucinating, Niccolò had been so close to... but then he changed his mind. Why?

He felt it would have been stupid to inquire about that, when he had done the same just a couple of hours before.

"So, what now?" He asked, instead.

"Now... Now we really can go wherever the heck we want. Unless you have other obligations to attend to? There must be some other singing contest for you to enjoy, before the May Mayhem." Nico mused, as he stretched.

"Huh? May what?"

"May Mayhem? Like, the biggest competition around, where people show up on stage with the most ridiculous outfits and either sing ballads or perform weird rituals? You have no idea what I am talking about... That's okay. I secured a couple of tickets months ago..."

Martino chose to focus on the fact that Niccolò could see them still hanging out in May, that he was willing to share those precious tickets with him, and disregard the fact that he would have had to endure another melodic festival.

"I do have place in mind... I'd show it to you on the map, but it's in my satchel." "Awesome." Ni clapped his hand gleefully, and then started his descent. "Let's get it, then."

Martino wished he could share his enthusiasm at the idea of having to dive into that muddy water not just once but twice. He groaned at the mere miserable picture his brain was already painting, getting a boisterous laugh out of his companion.

And yet he knew he wasn't going Nico go back alone, as inconvenient as that swim back to their horses would be.

"This should do. We're close enough now." Niccolò, however, stopped on the lowest bough and started tapping his fingers against the trunk with one hand, while the other was open and outstretched towards the pond's edge.

He kept murmuring words in a language Martino was familiar with - yet he couldn't name a single person he had ever heard it from... perhaps it had been in his dreams? hard to say, when he was hardly able to remember what sleeping felt like - but sounded absolutely unintelligible to his ears.

And then his satchel came into view, quickly soaring through the air. Was Nico performing a summoning charm without the help of a wand? For real? Right in front of his eyes?

The nerve. The audaciousness. The guts it showed, to go for a gesture that screamed 'I am powerful AND untamed. I don't answer to anyone's rules but my own.' to someone he had met only the night before.

Amazing. Incredible. Astonishing.

'One more talent to add to the list... Aside from being agile, athletic... Handsome... And I am supposed to be the unbelievable one? Excuse me?'

What about the horses, though? Surely he wouldn't be able to summon them as well, no matter how impressive his magic was. Not on a few hours of sleep - about that: he really needed to stop being selfish and remind Nico once again that he should rest - and with barely any food in him.

"We don't need them." Niccolò said, guessing what he Martino had been about to ask. "Rocco knows the way back to the Incantava castle, and can lead them back to the royal stables. Ele has been taking great care of him when I couldn't - ever since we were kids - and I'm sure she won't mind Chicco."

"Incantava?" Trust Martino's mind to fixate on the most insignificant detail.

"Incanti plus Sava? I've been secretly - well, not so secretly now but I know I can trust you with this - have been calling them like that for ages..." Butterflies did a number on Marti's stomach, at that. He already knew, but it was nice to have an actual confirmation of the trust Niccolò had in him.

"And we are?" Why was he even asking, it wasn't like in the dreadfully short time they have been together Nico should have come up with a nickname for them as well. They weren’t even friends, were they? Barely acquaintances, at best.

"Nicotino? Martinico? Rames?" Nico teased him with a smile, and a fully body wiggle, before he leaned against the truck of the tree to watch him rummage through his bag.

"So, an addictive venom. A possessed scarecrow and something that sounds like food. Great." Martino rolled his eyes, as he finally found what he was looking for. “Well, actually… The place I’ve got in mind is not on the map. I don’t even know where it is. But since these are yours, maybe you do?” Niccolò eyes widened, and his hands were shaking a bit as he took the pictures from Marti. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He asked, a bit worried by Nico’s silence while he kept staring at the parchments. “Yeah, yeah.” Nico snapped out of it, at the sound of his voice.”I just didn’t think anyone would have enough taste and foresight, because you can bet these are going to sell for your weight in gold, to keep them…” “Well, you know Sana. She’s got a head for profits, or she wouldn’t be running the most successful tavern of our realm.” Marti played along, hoping he hadn’t reopened an old wound by mistake. Again. “Sana? Oh. Right. Of course, it makes sense.” He sounded slightly disappointed at that, like he had been expecting to hear someone else’s name. Maddalena’s, perhaps. Understandable. Just because Martino preferred to think that it must had been an arranged engagement, it didn’t make it true. Maybe he still loved her dearly, and had left because there was something seriously wrong with him? Something connected to his inability to walk on the ground for too long? “So, do you know where to find those giraffesses - or whatever they’re called - or not? Do they even exist, by way? Or did you come up with them in a dream?” He quickly changed the topic, bringing it back to the matter at hand. His curse. “Oh, my dear Marti.” How could he manage to sound both mocking and fond? It wasn’t fair! “I wish I could take the credit. My minds comes up with a great deal of things, but giraffes aren’t one of them. I’ll gladly show you, since you asked.” “You better not be pulling my leg.” Martino mumbled, wishing Niccolò would just get on with it. He could barely stand having him look into his eyes, without giving in to the temptation of leaning in and… No, no, no. Not a chance. Not now. Not ever. “So you don’t believe me, huh? What a dunce.” He punched Marti’s shoulder, and then proceeded to open a portal to their destination. “You are hardly the first.” They spoke very little, after that. Niccolò had him go in first, with a curt “Be my guest.” Martino chose not to question the sudden change in Nico’s attitude, knowing it would pass. He felt personally offended someone else had dared to call him a liar, however. Who were they? Marti wanted names, so he could go and… Do what? Punch them in the face?

Yeah! Why not! Rather than paying further attention to his murderous thoughts, which would have led him nowhere good, Martino focused on how Niccolò’s movements were getting stiffer and stiffer by the minute. Without saying anything, he matched the slowing pace but he didn’t know how much longer he could pretend not to see him staggering.

The sun had yet to rise, so it wasn’t easy to tell but he could swear that he was turning paler as well.

It didn’t feel right to demand an explanation, but maybe he could persuade him to take a break.

'We really can't afford to waste time' complained his common sense. 'We could drop dead any minute!'

'Exactly' answered his stubborn heart. 'It's surprising that you still believe we can make it. Given that we'd need a miracle for that to happen, I think we should agree on that Niccolò and his wellbeing are our priority, at the moment. Unless you can give me one good reason not…'

It couldn't find one. The most sensible thing was indeed to grab Nico's arm and pull. Pull and pull again, until Niccolò would finally give up, and let himself be gently lowered down onto the grass. He would have been welcome to use Marti's lap as a pillow, if he fancied it. Martino would not - never! not in a million years - take advantage of the situation to thread his fingers through those curls…

When he reached out to do that, however, Martino noticed something quite unusual. Nico's arm was a lot heavier, smoother and colder than it should have been. Almost as if…

No, no ifs.

It was marble, not flesh.

"Ni?" The worry was palpable in his voice, so raw and honest that Niccolò couldn't ignore it. Not unless his heart had been turned into stone, already.

"Oh? It's just my arm. It's going to take a while before I fully turn, and by then I'm sure we will have reached Berta's most beloved spot in the savannah. Yeah, yeah, to your untrained and unappreciative eyes it will all look the same... A dry grassland, with small and dispersed trees. But she knows her stuff, Marti. She knows where to find the best shade and the most delicious leaves.

Berta's my favourite, you know? The one I usually draw. She's such a sweetheart. I am positive she is going to let me climb onto her back, someday."

"Turn into what?" He couldn't care less about giraffes, he wasn't going to be swayed into ignoring Nico's predicament. Not anymore. Though his ramblings about Berta had been a valiant - and quite cute - attempt. "And why? Have you been cursed too?"

Suddenly, witnessing Niccolò go through a wide array of contrasting emotions - a proper 'face-journey' as Gio would say - in less than a minute, Marti understood that there had been a major misunderstanding between them.

It wasn't as if Nico had meant to keep his condition a secret: he thought Martino had already heard about it from Maddalena.

So, that meant… Oh, crap.

Yeah, it meant that when he had asked if it would kill him to leave those trees in the forest or dismount his horse, the previous morning... Niccolò though he had been joking.

'Good job, Martino. You're lucky he doesn't seem to mind if you are a mean, stupid, peasant.'

"She really didn't tell you?" He sighed, when he saw Martino confirm with a headshake. "I definitely owe her an apology. Anyway... Long story short: there's no oath about never touching the ground involved. No curse apart from my own foolishness."

"I can't say I'm surprised, here." He teased, with a smile. "Takes one to know one."

'Don't be ashamed of whatever you did, Nico. Don't call yourself an idiot, 'cause if you are… Then I am too. You are not alone, you understand?'

"Agreed." Nico said, smiling a little. He was better than anyone he had ever met - except Gio, perhaps, but that came from years of experience - at reading between the lines of 'Martinese'.

"I was merely trying to get better hold on my emotions." He went on, now fearing no judgement from Martino. "Which, as you have seen for yourself, can be rather intense and rather unpredictable. Turns out you can't do that, unless you literally have a heart of stone. For some reason, however, the spell only starts spreading when I am walking on the ground. Maybe it knows it's where I'd rather be, instead of being bound to earthly obligations. Magic works in mysterious ways."

"Believe me, I know… " Marti was perfectly aware that there would be no better occasion to share its own truth, so he went ahead and confessed. There wasn’t that much to say, honestly.

Niccolò listened carefully, not even attempting to mock him when he mentioned the detail about the giraffes and their tears. If anything, he seemed relieved that Martino wouldn’t have trusted a single individual claiming they were real.

"So, let me get this straight. You still need the tears and a song, right? He waited for Martino to nod, before he continued. "That's awesome! I mean, not that you're cursed and all… But, like, that you needed those items and you met me! What were the chances? And let me tell you, I'm gonna take it personally if mine doesn't qualify as a wounded soul. Or if my song doesn't make any of them tear up..."

"Yeah, but…" It was certainly worth to give it a try, yet they couldn't just forget about the clause mentioning that no help from his friends was allowed.

"… but what, Marti? Is it about the 'friend' thing? Obviously the ones you made along the way don't count, or your wooden box would have told you. Remember that it has been bewitched by you best friend, so it desperately wants you to succeed." Nico pointed out, and that did make sense.

Gio wouldn't give him unsolicited advice, so neither did the box. However, it'd still do what it could to prevent him from failing.

All he had to do was ask.

So he did.

"You are, indeed, so very close. Don't question who your heart chose." An answer that didn't rule out asking Nico for help, right?

"That's settled, then. We'd better get a move on, now…"

Before Niccolò could take another step, however, he was hoisted onto Martino's shoulders.

"It's quicker like this, though you truly weight a ton." Nico sharply tugged his hair hearing that remark… And Marti couldn't say that he didn't find that hot.

'Not the time go there, brain. Nor the place. File it away for later.'

'Consider it done.'

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

By the time they reached the spot Niccolò had in mind, the sun was shining bright in the sky.

Martino had overestimated his strength, and had to take several breaks.

The pain in muscles, however, was nothing compared to the one in his chest at the thought of all those times Nico had walked through that savannah alone. Never knowing if he'd turn back, or if he'd be stuck as a statue until some clumsy animal shattered him.

It couldn't go on like that. It wasn't unacceptable to Martino: something had to be done, as soon as they got rid of his own curse.

They had looked for an acacia tree with boughs strong and wide enough to let them sit side by side, and then Niccolò had taken a lute of his bag.

Marti's bag. Who had not packed that instrument for sure.

"You didn't know you had a lute in your bag, Sir? Have you packed your own luggage, and take responsibility for it, or should I call the authorities?" Niccolò had to make fun of his confusion, of course. "Summoning charms, Marti. Kind of what I do best."

"Shut up and sing. That's what you do best."

"Awwww, thanks. That's an oxymoron, however. Should I shut up or sing?"

"Sing!" He barked out, not meaning to make it sound like an order… expect it totally was.

"Uhh, we're getting all hot and bothered. Assertive. I like it… Let me just choose something fit for us… Mhh… That should do, I don't think my friend Cesare will mind if I tweak his lyrics a little and make it ours." He cleared his voice, after that little talk with himself, and then he finally started singing.

"Diciam sempre ‘io non cerco amore’, che preferiamo badare a noi. Ma questa non è la verità, vieni a vedere perché."

Come and see why we keep saying we aren’t looking for love, why we would rather take care of ourselves on our own. Come and find out that it's not true.

"Mi vedono sempre ridere, ma questa non è la realtà. Piango ogni notte, sempre per lei. Vieni a vedere perché." People only saw the carefree, sunny side of Niccolò. They didn't know the truth, didn't know how she - his head, Marti assumed, since he touched his temple when he sang that word - made him cry himself to sleep. Come and see why.

Marti nearly flatlined a minute later, at the "C'è chi rinuncia all'amore solo perché non ne ha avuto mai. Eccomi qua, dammelo e poi… Ora capisci perché dico sempre che odio l'amore, che non mi serve a niente, però.. Prego perché, il Signore lo sa… che prima o poi lo troverò."

How could he not?

When Niccolò was saying that there were those who gave up love, only because they had never experienced it. When he was reassuring Martino hat he was there, if Marti wanted to love him back. And then he would understand why, despite saying that he hated that feeling, Nico was praying that he would find him, someday.

Too depressingly sappy for Marti's taste, to be fair, but still a nice song. And the enchanted box seemed to agree, at last!

Niccolò could have sung about the weather, and it would have worked nonetheless… because it came from him.

A more upbeat song, on the other hand, would have not drawn those majestic yellow and brown creatures out of their hiding. Giraffes, uh?

Much bigger than had pictured them, but not quite as scary. They reminded him a bit of Chicco, but also of fawns with that little horns they on their head, the big brown eyes… and he found endearing how the smaller ones would totter, with those legs that looked way too long and tiny for their bodies, especially if they had to bend down to eat something, or break into a sprint.

None were bawling, though there were some who had been moved by the sound of Nico's voice and were quietly weeping.

If only Marti could collect a couple of those droplets, somehow…

"Awww, Berta. It's okay. I'm okay. Come here, you big sap." While Marti had been marvelling at the whole tower, the tiniest and scrawniest out them had started her wobbly walk towards them. She looked like she would fall at every step, but then she didn't. Slowly - though not quite steadily - she had reached them, and she was now bending her neck to let herself be petted by Niccolò.

He could have sat there, enraptured such a sweet display of mutual trust and affection, for hours…

"The vial, Marti?" But then Niccolò reminded him what they were supposed to do here.

Vial? What vial?

Oh, right. The one needed to save those tears and bring them back to Gio..

He must have taken an empty one with him, come on!

Ha! Found it!

"We did it! Now Gio's got everything he needs for the sleeping potion, hasn't he?" It warmed him up inside, to hear his best friend's name on Nico's lips. He couldn't wait to introduce them to each other, find out what shenanigans they could get themselves into.

"Yeah!" Oh, he was so happy he could kiss Niccolò.

"Then do it, you coward." Nico challenged him, gently stroking the back of his neck.

Oops. Did he said that aloud?

"Me? I am the coward? What about you, huh? I sense a massive bias, h-"

Uh. Had he been shushed with a kiss? Yes. Totally. Unequivocally. Did he mind? Not one bit.

It was better than he could have ever imagined. Soft, unhurried but sizzling hot at the same time. It made him feel light-headed, but sharpened his senses. And they all zeroed-in on Nico.

He would have gladly reciprocated, but then the whole world went black.

Oh, what a way to go.

#skam italia #nicotino #my writing #final countdown weeks #week 2 #day five: canzone

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