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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Note

CONGRATS ON 800, LOVE! IM SO SORRY I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO SUBMIT SOMETHING EARLIER (this is shemarmooresfedora but from another acct because mine has been shadowbanned for some reason)

i’ll do ❤️🤡💄🛏 please and thank you

maybe like spencer invites you to something as his date and you’re both crushing on each other but it’s not official until the reservation only booked one room

I LOVE YOU DORY!!! i am so sorry you're shadowbanned that is so weird? i hope this cheers you up a little! thank you for all the love and support, and for helping me create little Jo in Amoreena <3

cw: flirting, fake married, mutual pining, high school reunions, assault, love confessions, one bed, implied sex, kissing,

1.4K

When he got the invitation in the mail, he thought nothing of it. He left it in the pile on his counter and went off to work the way he always would. He hasn’t been back to his old high school since he was 13, the 15 year reunion was coming up and he was invited.

He wasn’t going to go. He never went to any event unless it was a CalTech alumni event. Because there he was respected, there he was Doctor Spencer Reid, the FBI’s asset and excellent graduate. He was a nobody, a kid and a loser in high school.

“You okay?” Y/N notices he’s quieter than normal, he’s staring off past his desk and she’s worried for him.

“Huh?” He turns to her, “I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” she whispers, “come get a coffee with me down at the kart?”

He nods and stands silently, following her out of the room and away from all their friends, in the elevator she knows he’s more comfortable.

“What’s going on, Spence?”

“My high school reunion is coming up, and I really want to go and prove to them that I’m not a dork anymore…” his voice is low and his eyes are fixated on the floor.

Her face drops, she pulls the emergency button and wraps herself around him. “You have never been a dork, Spencer. You have always been magnificent and they’re too dumb to see that.”

He holds her in return, settling as he rests his chin on her shoulder. She feels nice and warm, her hair smells like apples and her laundry detergent is all over her shirt.

“Would you come back to Vegas with me and pretend to be my girlfriend? Say things like that and make them think I’ve got it all?”

He cant see how much she smiles while they hug, “yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend for the day.”

—

She buys the nicest dress imaginable, they fly out to Vegas together and she’s so excited she forgot to ask for her own room. Or at least that’s what she tells him because she really wanted a chance to sleep with him, in more ways than one.

Even to just cuddle with Spencer Reid would be a gift, so she goes all out to seduce him. She looked impeccable, He was thinking it was her way of helping him show off… he was so clueless she was going to have to be the smart one when it came to getting him to see her as more than a friend. She wanted him, she was going to show him just how good she would be to him if she was his.

Her dress hugs her in all the right places, she wraps an arm around Spencer’s middle and holds him close. They walk in like they own the place, everyone is taking turns looking at them as they walk to the name tag table.

“Hi, Spener Reid,” he smiles, “and my plus one.”

“Hi,” Y/N waved at the woman behind the desk.

“Hello,” she smiles, “here are your name tags, Mr. and Mrs. Reid.”

“Oh we’re—“

“Thank you,” Y/N smiles, she takes the name tags from the woman. “Newlyweds, my rings getting resized, he’s still adjusting to the title.”

“Ah, my husband was the same, called it wedding bell shock,” she smiled, old enough to have a husband with shell-shock as well.

“Can I have a pen?” Y/N asks, “or a marker?”

“Here,” she hands her a sharpie.

Y/N leans onto the table to scratch out the Mr. and replace it with Dr. “He has 3 Ph.D.’s you know? My husband is the smartest man in the FBI.”

“Oh,” she looks shocked, “thank you for your service sir.”

He blushes and nods, “thank you.”

Y/N peels the sticker off and sticks it to Spencer's chest before leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, she gets lipstick on him. She smiles and wipes it off, “there, still cute.”

The rest of the night is much of the same; she hangs off him, telling all the people who used to bully him that she was so madly in love with him, he was super smart and he was so strong and sexy on the job.

She slips away from him to get a drink while he explains how profiling works to his crowd of new fans. She’s filling her cup with punch when a weird, balding man slides up beside her, his hand touching her waist. She looks at him quickly, recognizing his name from the worst childhood story Spencer ever shared with her.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” he tried to hit on her.

She puts her cup down calmly and takes his hand off her, bending his arm behind his back and slamming him face-first into the punch bowl. She pulls his face back up by his hair, “that was for touching me.”

Then she slams him onto the floor where he coughs out punch from his lungs. “And that was for what you did to my husband as a kid, he was a Kid! You may have peaked in high school, but at least Doctor Reid doesn’t have a widow's peak, like yours. He is the smartest, sexiest, and most wonderful man in the world and you're nothing but a loser.”

Spencer turns around at the sound of her voice, “oooo” echos around the gym as everyone looks at the scene unfolding. Patrick, the asshole quarterback that traumatized him as a child, was on the ground covered in red juice as he complained about a sore arm.

Y/N smiles at him and waves before rejoining Spencer, “he doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Spencer suggests and she is all too eager to skip out of the room with him, right past Patrick.

—

She slams him against the wall as soon as they’re inside the hotel room again, kissing him with more desperation than she’s ever felt in her life. She needed him, he was her last piece and then she’d be complete.

She breaks the kiss to move down his neck as she loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt. “Are you sure we can be friends after this?”

“I’d hope my husband was my best friend,” she whispers against his skin.

He pulls her away from his neck, hands on her cheeks so he can look at her and read her expressions as best as possible, “I’m serious, I don’t want to do this if it’s going to make working together hard.”

“You’re an idiot,” she smiles, “I have been in love with you for months Spencer. I want this, I have wanted you for so long…”

His breathing changes as she explains her feelings, leaning in to kiss his neck again and make her way down his chest. “I’ve thought about this for so long Spencer, you have no idea how many dirty thoughts I have about doing things like this with you.”

“I got 1 bed on purpose,” he gasps out, “I wanted to sleep beside you… I hoped—

She smiles against him, “I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you to get 2…”

“You’re really not kidding?” He sounds so desperate it’s almost sad.

She stops her kissing and looks at him again, “why is it so hard for you to believe all the things I’ve said about you tonight? I’m not just trying to impress them, I’m telling the whole fucking world that the person I am in love with is the smartest man they will ever meet. People should bow at your feet, Spencer, let me appreciate you for how incredibly wonderful you are and stop doubting my feelings.”

“You love me?” Tears well in his eyes and he feels like a complete idiot, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted you to admit it first,” she whispers, equally as embarrassed. “I have a huge crush on you Spence, it’s not just that I love you, I never want to stop. You’re so nice and kind and funny? And you make me smile every day and I laugh even on the worst days ever because you’re there, and when I think about the future and reunions and events like this that I have to go to one day, and all I want is to bring you along and show everyone that you’re mine.”

She rambled more than he did, “so please, will you unzip my dress and join me in our one bed, husband?”

“Absolutely, my beautiful wife,” he turns her around, moving her hair off her back, he kisses her shoulder softly.

He moves the zip down as slow as possible, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin as he did so. When he reached the end, she pushed the straps off her arms and let the dress fall to the floor.

Mission accomplished.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #blurb weekend 521 #800 celebration

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saitama-division · 2 years

Note

The day was going well for the leader of the Saitama division’s team. At this point of the day, the sun was beginning to set, giving the area a warm orange glow to the city. A vast array of friends have come and gone, giving their gifts to the ever-so-kind Sayaka. And then…

Knock, knock, knock!

Drumming at the door of the Miyuki household a certain scientist, more specifically Kensaku, stood at the doorway with a gift basket filled with an array of fruits and vegetables, along with a small letter tucked into the edge of the basket. He seemed slightly nervous, but that worry seemed to wash away once the door opened up and he was met with a somewhat familiar face.

“Hey, good evening! Delivery for one birthday lady.”

Handing over the basket with a smile, Ken began to blabber about the basket.

“Apparently there’s a bunch of in-season stuff put into that basket from the Rikiya farms. Asato-kun insisted on putting that basket together for you and tagging along with me on my errands, but…” Gesturing to his car parked a bit away, a very sleepy Asato could be seen in the passenger seat, dozing in and out of sleep. In the split moment that Kensaku pointed him out, Asato could only give a weak nod in her direction, before sinking into the seat and succumbing to the claws of slumber. Kensaku chuckled at the younger man’s sleepy mood, then turned back to Sayaka. “I think the drive really drained him. It really is a long drive from Toyama over to here. Work is work though, right?”

Backing away from the door, Kensaku started to wave goodbye.

“T-The envelope is from me. It’s not much, but I figure you could use my gift to treat yourself and maybe even your daughter. I’ve got to get going though. I can’t have Mrs. Rikiya worrying about her grandson. Happy birthday, Miyuki-san! Enjoy the rest of your day!”

Before Sayaka could have a chance to say much else, Kensaku had already gotten into his car and taken off, leaving her with the big basket. So… What exactly was inside?

Asato seemed to have taken a lot of care into making the basket as it was quite heavy and overflowing with all sorts of food. From simple things like persimmons, peaches, ginger, cabbage, apples, and tomatoes, to some more impressive things like the giant honeydew melon and a jar of homemade jam, most likely made by Asato’s grandmother. Tucked away was Kensaku’s present, which was just a simple envelope addressed to Sayaka containing 10,000 yen (roughly, I mean very roughly 100 dollars). It wasn’t much, but it showed that the Toyama team were thankful for Sayaka’s support.

Much later, somewhere in Nagao…

“Did you give her the card?”

“H-Huh?! Oh, you’re awake…” Kensaku shouted, before lowering his voice back down. Focusing on the road, he could only sigh. “No, I figured it was too cheesy.”

“Really?” Asato tilted his head at the older man.

“Yeah? You overshadowed my sad excuse of a gift with your crazy gift basket. I get that you and your grandma wanted to thank her and her team for your birthday presents, but you could’ve at least given it to her on your own.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your… Show.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure she liked both of our presents equally! Right?”

“Right…” Asato could only stare at the smiling Kensaku. Even to Asato it felt obvious that Kensaku cared about his gift a lot more than he was letting on. But instead of prying, Asato snuggled back into his seat, letting the rumble of the car soothe him back into sleep.

Sayaka waved goodbye with a smile at the furthering vehicle and turned back towards her house, careful to not let any of the produce slip out of the basket and closed the door. Setting the basket on the dining table, she was surprised to see just how much was placed into the basket, not to mention Kensaku’s gift, which may not have been much but it meant all the more to Sayaka to know that he went out of his way to give her something. She couldn’t help but to smile, grateful towards the Toyama team for such a lovely gift.

“So who was it from this time?” A voice spoke up and Sayaka jumped before quickly turning around to find Lola leaning on the doorframe with her arms cross, a coy smile on her face.

“Lola! Goodness, you started me!” Placing a hand on her chest, Sayaka couldn’t help but laugh a bit. She stood aside so that Lola could see the gift for herself, “Ah, Morimoto-san and Rikiya-san from Toyama came by a moment ago, they gave me this wonderful gift.” She held up the envelope and gestured towards the basket.

Lola nodded thoughtfully and walked over to the table, she seemed impressed by the gift basket Asato put together, nodding in approval before turning towards Sayaka and the envelope, peaking over her shoulder, she gave an unimpressed hum, “10,000 yen? Seriously?”

Sayaka frowned at Lola’s response, finding her tone disrespectful. “Lola, Morimoto-san drove all the way here from Toyama, that’s at least a 5 hour drive with no traffic, plus, he could have just wished me a happy birthday, it’s the fact that he went out of his way to even give me something in the first place makes it a nice gift!”

Lola’s eyes widen and she stepped away, putting her hands up in surrender. “Whoa! Okay! Okay! I’m sorry, you’re absolutely right. Damn, honeybun…is there something I should know about?”

“Hmm?” Sayaka tilted her head, “What do you mean?”

“It’s just that, you seem very…passionate to defend that Morimoto guy, since when were you two such good friends?”

“We are friends.” Sayaka nodded. “At least, I’d like to think so.”

Lola just stared at her for a bit before nodding slowly. “…Okay, sweetness, okay.”

Thank you for the gift!

#hypmic oc #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic #hypnosis microphone #sayaka miyuki #lola takahashi #toyama division #asato rikiya #kensaku morimoto #gift #toyama-division #happy birthday sayaka 2022

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Twilight Facet [暮光之境] Date Translation (END 5+6: Heart-throb)

“I offer you my hand, my heart, my everything; are you willing to believe me?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *6✩ Inspirations have 6 Endings!! *CG Image used with permission from 蓝咕咕 ☆ *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap. I…

✩ E5 LIGHT: Ask about his other bedtime habits ✩

I leaned closer to Evan out of curiosity.

MC: Then, do you have anything else prepared other than the aromatherapy? Or… are there any other rules about this stuff set in place?

Evan pauses for a moment, not saying anything.

His eyes were bright, but also as deep as an abyss. It made me tempted to venture further into it, yet I didn't dare proceed any more than half a step.

After staying in place for a few seconds, I suddenly came to the startling realization of just how close I was to him. My body couldn't help but stiffen as I carefully retracted my neck as I inched backwards.

I leaned so close to him and even asked him such a personal question. Will he think that I'm…

Evan: Are you really that interested in these things?

MC: I just wanted to understand you a little more…

I was so embarrassed that I didn't look at him at all. I kept my head lowered, my face a burning mess.

Evan chuckled lightly. His voice was as deep as ever, and it felt pleasant to the ears.

Evan: Then, I'm glad that you're the one who's trying to understand me.

Evan: But, they're all merely small habits that have followed me through childhood. Take this for example…

He picked up the delicate, yet exquisite cup, shaking the red liquid within.

Evan: This here’s called Hereafter. I started drinking it ever since I was a kid, and it has stuck with me ever since. Now, I need this to sleep.

Evan: I wasn't willing to, at first; but I slowly got used to it.

I nodded in understanding. After thinking about it for a while, I picked up the teapot and filled his cup with more of said drink.

MC: Then you should finish these off properly.

Evan: Very well.

He picked up the cup and took a sip before pausing. He looked at me a little hesitantly, a conflicted expression on his face.

MC: ...Why are you looking at me like that?

Evan: This is… a little too thick.

MC: Ah! I forgot to add water to it earlier. Sorry, sorry…

I quickly added hot water into his cup and stirred it before handing it back to him. However, his brow furrowed a little after just a sip.

Evan: It's a little too hot now.

MC: I'll blow on it for you!

I took the cup over from him without another word, blowing gently on it. It was only after I'd done it a couple of times that I heard a sudden laugh coming from him.

I froze, looking back at him in suspicion.

He was unable to wipe the smile off his face, leaning affectionately into the sofa as he observed me. His eyes sparkled with glee.

MC: ...You…

I looked at the cup and back to him again. Something clicked in my head.

Is he doing this on purpose?

He chuckled lightly, swiftly taking the cup from my grasp and gracefully downing it in one fell swoop.

Evan: Thank you. Now everything's in place.

MC: ……

He's DEFINITELY doing it on purpose!

I helped him close the curtains after he’d finished up his special drink.

MC: Is there anything else that you'd like prepared, Sir?

Evan looked at me, hesitating for a while before shaking his head.

Evan: That's all there is. Thank you.

I glanced at his dark red tie.

MC: How about I help you take off your tie then? I'm sure it'll be uncomfortable to sleep in.

Evan: ……

MC: ……

An awkward silence lapsed between us. It took some time before the realization that I’d just said something really inappropriate hit me...

I hurriedly averted my gaze away from his tie.

MC: Ahaha… What nonsense am I spouting now…

Evan: Sure.

MC: Huh?

Evan: I'll have to trouble you to help me get it off then. Thank you.

MC: ...Okay.

A warm smile slowly filtered into his orbs as he removed his gold-rimmed glasses. He slowly stood up from his reclining position and moved to stand before me.

He was tall and his shadow almost completely enveloped me. My breathing involuntarily stuttered.

I raised my head and reached upwards, carefully starting to work the knot out.

Looks like he did his tie with an exceptionally complicated knot today. I had a go at it for quite some time, but to no avail.

Evan: Is it hard to undo?

MC: A-A little… Erm, could you… bend down a little?

Evan: Alright… Looks like it was a lack of consideration on my part.

He gave an apologetic smile, moving closer to me and leaning further down.

That slightly smiling face of his suddenly drew up close. My brain blanked out, and I could do nothing but stare dumbly at him.

Evan: Will this do?

MC: ……

My breath hitched in my throat. I hurriedly averted my gaze, frantically nodding as I reached out to have another go at his tie.

However, the knot didn't budge at all no matter how hard I tried. It was almost as if the thing had a grudge on me. I couldn't help but feel a little upset at my futile efforts.

Evan: Looks like this doesn't work either. Then, how about...

The words had only just left his mouth when he suddenly reached over. He wrapped his arm around my waist and hoisted me up!

MC: !!!

I jolted. Startled by the sudden movement, I instinctively clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and earning another chuckle from him.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Carrying me, Evan retreated a couple of steps backwards. He seated himself on the side of the bed with me sitting sideways atop his thigh. He held my hand and brought it up to his collar which was already loose and dishevelled.

MC: Evan…

Evan: It should be much easier now. Try again?

There was a pleasantly warm smile on his face, but it was hard to ignore the firm chest pressed up to my palm, rising and falling in time with his breathing.

This is all to undo his tie, right? Still, this position is a little…

I bit my lip and tried to calm my rapid breathing. I tentatively moved a little, only to feel his entire body suddenly stiffen in response.

I stiffened as well, freezing in place. I didn't dare move an inch.

It was a few seconds later that his voice sounded in my ears again.

Evan: Are you going to start?

MC: ...Yeah.

I tried my hardest to shelve the wild thought that had taken refuge in my head as my trembling hands took hold of his tie once more.

After composing myself, I was soon able to undo his tie. I also helped him unbutton the first button of his dress shirt.

And just like that, his pretty and prominent collarbones were revealed to my eye. Going further up was his adam's apple that bobbed ever so occasionally. And going further down would be his chest, which my hand was currently pressed against, rising and falling with his every breath.

The muscles beneath my touch were firm but relaxed, rippling beneath his skin as if waiting for the perfect chance to come into play. This side of Evan was one unknown to me; one that screamed danger. Yet, it was still deadly attractive. I couldn't stop my face from flushing scarlet once more.

MC: Um… your tie's undone now… You can rest easy

Evan: I'm in no hurry. Besides, this makes up the last of my bedtime habits.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan: Now, how about you tell me about your bedtime habits?

MC: My bedtime habits?

I stared into his deep orbs. The ghost of a familiar melody sounded by my ears, soft and gentle.

It was the song that my grandmother used to sing to me before bed as a kid. Recalling these softened my heart and made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

MC: My grandmother used to hum to me.

Evan: A lullaby?

MC: Yup! But not just lullabies! Sometimes it's a traditional folk song, and sometimes it’s a western nursery rhyme.

MC: I recall there being one with really odd lyrics about how a leopard fell in love with a foxface rabbitfish.

MC: The foxface rabbitfish asked the leopard if it wanted to go down to the sea and see how it was like. The leopard agreed.

MC: And then they both lived happily ever after together at the bottom of the sea.

MC: Strange, isn’t it? I mean, how can a leopard live under the sea?

Evan: ...What if it's possible?

MC: Huh?

I looked towards Evan. His eyes were slightly drooping, his eyelashes casting small shadows upon his features. I couldn’t read his expressions all that well.

It was a while before he looked back at me again. This time, with his beautiful eyes fully open, and the corners of his lips curled into his usual smile.

Evan: Can you sing it to me?

MC: Yeah… Sure thing.

I softly sang him that weird nursery rhyme of mine, again and again, in a never-ending loop.

I didn’t know how many times I sang the whole rhyme in succession; but just as I stopped once more at the part where the foxface rabbitfish asked the leopard whether it wanted to visit the sea, Evan’s head suddenly fell onto the crook of my neck.

MC: !!

The nursery rhyme came to an abrupt stop as my ears were slowly filled with another sound.

It was the sound of his long and steady breathing, gently sounding in my ears. Soon, it permeated through my thin clothes, melting into my skin. His hair was soft and a little ticklish as it brushed against my neck, making my heart pound in unrest.

Our surroundings were silent, with only the soft crackling of the fireplace and the intoxicating fragrance that wafted in the air.

It felt like it was going to be a long, long time before this nap was over.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap. I…

★ E6 NIGHT: Don't hold him up from his afternoon nap ★

It just so happens that it's the perfect time for a lunchtime nap now…

MC: Am I getting in the way of your rest? I'll wait for you out in the hall then. Have a good nap!

With that said, I moved to head out to the hall. However, I hadn't yet gotten a step further before Evan caught me by the wrist.

Evan: Wait.

The unique temperature of his body slowly spreads upon my skin. His touch brought about a slight coolness, momentarily freezing me in place.

MC: ...What's up?

I secretly peeked at the hand he used to hold onto mine. His fingers were pale and long, but there was an undeniable strength behind them. It unwittingly made people a little nervous.

Evan: I was just going to tell you that I don't intend to take an afternoon nap at all today. But what I do have, is an important document that needs my signature.

MC: Uh… I'll still wait for you out in the hall?

Evan: You can just stay here.

MC: Won't I disturb you?

Evan: You won't. I'm more worried that you'd find it boring here.

Evan: The other door in my room connects to my Study. You can go there and kill time if you feel bored.

Now that he mentions it… I do recall seeing a heavy wooden door on the other side of his bedroom…

MC: Ohh… I'll go check out your Study then!

Evan: Sure. I'll go look for you once I'm done.

MC: Okey-dokey!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

A step into the study was all it took for me to be completely blown away by what awaited inside.

MC: Jesus Christ. These bookshelves span several walls… Who in the world has this many books in their study? It’s kind of amazing in its own right...

And it wasn’t just the bookshelves. There was also a large projector screen on the other end of the study that nearly covered the entire wall.

MC: I’d probably disrupt his work if I watch a movie here… Guess I’ll be better off looking for a book.

But rather than searching the shelves in search of a book, the thought of just what books he'd have in here intrigued me further.

MC: Wow, the bottom few shelves are filled with the biographies of famous people, mystery novels, travel guides… He even has picture books here!

MC: I never knew that he reads such a wide array of books. I wonder if the upper shelves will yield any new discoveries?

I took the stepladder that was placed not too far off and climbed up on it. I excitedly continued my perusal of what books his shelves offered. After a considerable amount of effort, I managed to pull out a thin and old book from amongst a couple of thick books on the history of music.

MC: “Jane Eyre”? Huh…? Was “Jane Eyre” supposed to be this thin, again? And it looks pretty well-thumbed too...

Curious, I opened it.

This was an incomplete copy of "Jane Eyre". There were thick scars on the spine of the book, formed from having its pages torn out. Someone had ripped out nearly ¾ of the book's contents.

Flipping it open, the very first page detailed the part where Jane Eyre wished to leave Thornfield Hall after learning that Rochester was about to get married. Conflicted with her turmoil of emotions, Jane walks to Mr. Rochester's orchard. She'd intended to sneak away as if she was never there, only to be halted by Rochester. And in the end, they finally managed to understand their true feelings for each other under the moonlight, in the eventide breeze that was tinged with the fragrance of jasmine interlaced with roses.

But why does this book start from here? What happened to all the content in front?

Evan: What book is it that has gotten you so engrossed?

MC: !

The low voice that suddenly sounded by my ear made my breathing hitch. Turning around, I hurriedly hid the book behind my back, just like how one would when the teacher found out that they were secretly reading a book in class.

Evan, dressed only in a white dress shirt, was looking at me with a smile that reached his eyes. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and the warmth in his eyes that were normally hidden behind the lenses now faced me in full force.

MC: ...You… You're done with work?

Evan smiled, reaching out to help me adjust the hemline of my skirt that had gotten slightly rumpled.

Evan: Yes. So, what were you reading?

MC: This.

I brought the book I'd hidden behind me back out front.

Evan: Jane Eyre.

His low and pleasantly smooth voice intonated, seemingly touching my very heart. It was like magic; one that miraculously made my heart race.

Evan looked back up at me after reading the title. He had a knowing look in his eyes that was soon disrupted by a flicker of mischief.

I didn't know why, but I didn't quite dare to look up at him right now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan: “I believe you must leave now. I am sorry, but I believe indeed you must.”

MC: Huh? ...O-Oh, I’ll leave now…

Evan: “Exactly, precisely: with your usual acuteness, you have hit the nail straight on the head.”

This… sounds like the lines I’ve just read in “Jane Eyre”...?

Deep down, Jane truthfully didn't want to leave. However, Mr. Rochester had already arranged everything for her departure.

Her job, her destination, and even her future to come.

Evan: “Do you like Ireland? ...You’ll like Ireland, I think.”

He spoke with a low voice, looking at me with a sort of seriousness that I’d never seen before.

It felt as if that line wasn’t from Rochester, directed to Jane; but rather, from Evan to me.

Confounded, I slowly opened my mouth to respond to him.

MC: “It is a long way off, sir. Not the voyage, but the distance: and then the sea is a barrier—”

Evan: "From what, hm?”

MC: “From England and from Thornfield: and一 From you, Sir.”

The words had just left my lips when Evan reached a hand out, bringing it up to my waist. Just a little bit of strength behind his fingertips was all it took for him to hoist me upwards, pressing my upper body closer to him.

Suddenly, the distance between us disappeared. We were so close that our breaths intermingled.

Evan: “I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you— especially when you are near me, as now.”

Evan: “Are you anything akin to me, do you think?”

He gazed at me, his breath brushing across my skin in a manner as intoxicating as wine, effectively sending my rationality out of the window.

I gaped in an attempt to say something. However, my words were eviscerated into nothing by the deep red hue in his eyes.

We stared at each other as we stood within the tall and large study filled with the scent of ink. It felt like we were nothing but the small minuscule dust particles that filtered in with the sun’s rays.

So small, so minuscule that it was almost non-existent; yet still able to hang onto the other, while adrift, fluttering all the same.

Evan: “I offer you my hand, my heart, my everything.”

Evan: “Are you willing to believe me?”

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

My heart thudded heavily in my chest. It felt as if time had come to a stand-still.

I lost myself in the moment, forgetting who I was or where I was. The only thing I wanted to do now was to entrust my heart to him in all its genuineness, and to stay in this beautiful and pleasant moment forever.

According to the story, this was when Jane and Rochester finally gained a mutual understanding of their emotions for each other, sharing a long passionate kiss.

Evan's eyes lowered, coming to a slight close. His fine lashes fluttered downwards as the pale yellow light illuminated his face, casting small beautiful shadows upon his features. He slightly turned his head, the breath that had been one with mine shifting. It brushed against my face, hot and ticklish.

My body seemingly loses the ability to move, and all I could do was stare dumbfoundedly at the face with well-defined features slowly advancing closer.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

At the very last second, I hurriedly covered my face with the book that I'd let rest against my chest in a desperate act.

And in turn, blocking off what could have happened; something that was capable of making my heart stop beating right then and there.

The air was filled with a moment of silence that was soon broken by Evan's laughter.

MC: You…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I slowly and carefully lowered the book that'd been covering my face. I watched as Evan lowered his head, leaning it against the crook of my neck as he laughed, shoulders quaking in his mirth.

MC: Stop… stop laughing at me…

Evan: Okay, no laughing.

Evan: ...I'm really happy, (Y/n).

Evan's laughter slowly died off, but his head remained firmly planted onto my shoulder. I quietly relished in the moment of intimate contact with burning cheeks.

MC: Erm… Why’s this book missing so many pages?

Evan: This belonged to my mother. It was already in this state when I first saw it.

Oh, so that’s how it is. Then… perhaps it’s because his mother liked how brave Jane was in this part of the story?

MC: She dared defy; she dared to love.

Evan: Yes. Although, I think my mother will definitely like you much more if she had the chance to meet you.

MC: But… I’m nowhere near as brave as Jane.

He gave a small chuckle before letting go of my shoulder, watching me with a profound look in his eyes. It was as if the Evan that had been reciting Mr. Rochester’s lines had made a comeback.

In the same manner, as Rochester would gaze affectionately at Jane… No. No, that wasn’t it… Those eyes, that gaze… It was Evan who was looking at me so.

Reflected within his orbs were twin silhouettes of me.

He patted my head, his low and intoxicating voice taking on a slightly far-away tone, yet still managing to grace my ears.

Evan: My liking you has absolutely nothing to do with “Jane Eyre”.

Evan: You are (Y/n), and I am Evan. Nothing more, nothing less.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Time flew past.

The glow of the sunset had begun to set in when Aunt Wang finally sent up my dry-cleaned clothes.

Seeing her so busy, I couldn't help feeling a tinge of regret at being the cause of it.

MC: I've brought so much trouble for them both… I should do something to thank them well next time!

Evan looked at me and closed the book in his hand.

Evan: They're usually the only ones here, so it'll do them a little good to be busy once in a while.

Evan: Having something to do would also make it feel all the more fulfilling.

MC: Mmhm… But I can't help but feel like they're already busy even without us, and now that we're here…

MC: Plus Uncle Chen looked like he was in a huge hurry when I took upon the task of sending the drink for him. It was like he was here for a moment, and gone like the wind in the next.

A flicker of doubt appears on Evan's face upon hearing this.

Evan: Is he truly that busy?

MC: Yeah, he is… He had to rush here to deliver your drink, and he also had to rush over to give the fireplace a change of coal.

MC: Plus, this is also one huge place. Even with the two of them here, they must be pretty busy keeping this place all neat and tidy.

Evan: They do have their work cut out for them, but…

Evan: I seem to recall that we do have scheduled professionals who come by to take care of the fireplace here, so there's no need for either of them to do it themselves.

MC: ...Huh? But he said…

A strange thought suddenly struck me, the realization making the words die in my throat.

Did Uncle Chen make me… bring Evan's drink to him on purpose?

I stared at Evan, absolutely dumbfounded.

He didn't say anything either, only chuckling lightly after a few seconds.

Evan: I suppose, sometimes, having a fireplace at home isn't all that bad.

He'd said it all so naturally, yet I couldn't help but feel like there was something a little off about it. Especially when it came to the word "fireplace". It unwittingly made me recall how oddly Uncle Chen and Aunt were acting… and their ambiguous smiles.

I silently adverted my gaze, biting on my lips as I spoke in barely a whisper.

MC: I'm definitely not getting a fireplace installed in my house next time…

Evan: Hm?

MC: Oh, nothing… nothing! I was just talking to myself!

Evan: That so?

Evan drew both of his arms up to his jaw, propping his chin on it as his heavy gaze fell upon my being.

Under the light of the setting sun, his expression was one of calm contentment and warmth.

He smiled, his voice a low baritone.

Evan: Your wish is my command. No fireplaces in the future.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose another Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 + 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #陆沉 #Evan #For Night For Revolution #暮光之境 #Twilight Facet

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joshstambourine · 3 years

Text

Greta Van Fleet as Dad's

Haven't been able to un-see this idea since it showed up on my dash and uggggh. I couldn't get over how cute all of this was.

For this imagine, I'm sort of picturing them with younger children, anywhere from 3-5 years old as they are all still crazy young hehe. Also. All of these imagines work with any gender of child. It's all sorta just what I imagine them having and being like in general 🖤

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart

JOSH

Josh is such an interesting guy. He is both so deeply smart... but also at the same time he is the equivalent of a conversation between my last two brain cells.

The sheer amount of energy this man has means he'll not only keep up with a kid but also tire them tf out.

There would always be so much screaming and laughing in the house.

Lots of games of tag and the floor is lava

No matter what he has, son or daughter --- there will be so much dancing. Josh would be the kind of dad who loves to hold his kid and just dance around the house with them.

Not to mention all of the goofy songs they would be singing together.

I can see Josh conversing with his kids like adults even when they are little. Meaning there will be some very serious conversations about very silly things. Potato chips can make you a fly? On it. The floor is both lava and also the arctic? Josh is ready to hear all about how that's possible. There aren't mermaids but there are human sharks? Josh needs to know where he can find them asap.

I can very easily imagine him dressed up and sitting at a table that is far too small for him with his legs crossed.

His daughter would have started by putting one necklace on him and it soon escalated to a crown, sunglasses that didn't fit, and a set of fairy wings. Surrounded by many stuffed animals and dolls.

"Mmm, this is great tea! What kind is it?"

"Grape."

He'd look at his tiny tea cup filled with apple juice. "Huh I could have sworn it was Apple. Did you change it on me?"

She would shake her head, "No daddy! We already drank the apple tea!" She'd laugh.

"What?? You drank all the apple tea without me?!" He'd exclaim, "why did you drink all the apple tea with out me?"

Josh would inch over and begin to tickle her, just loving to hear her laugh really.

"Daddy! Daddy no! You can't tickle me, I'm the princess!!"

Jake

Jake immediately strikes me as such a chill laid back dad. The kind of cool dad you'd definitely want during your teenage years.

He'd be the kind of dad to sit and watch cartoons religiously with his kid, there's no way he'd be missing them. Doesn't matter if it's cool or comedy gold, if his little one loves it they're gonna watch it together.

I think Jake would really want to teach his kid how to play guitar. It's something he's so passionate about that I think it would bring him a lot of joy if his kid had at least the knowledge of techniques and things, even if they weren't a huge fan of playing themselves.

Jake as well strikes me as someone who would be psyched about making dad jokes, of course with a straight face.

That is just a long winded way of saying that as a very young child this kid would know more about music than I do now after 20 years of living on this planet.

"What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school?"

"Bison!"

For a gender of a kid I'm split right in the middle when it comes to Jake. I think either would be equally as adorable but for this imagine I'm going with a girl to keep things even.

With a little girl I can imagine him sitting quietly as he watches her tiny hands try their best to paint his nails cleanly.

There is pink nail polish everywhere. Everything is a mess. Everything smells of chemicals. But it's fine.

"After I do your nails can I braid your hair too?" She'd eagerly ask, not looking at his hands anymore but she is still trying to paint.

"But your show is going to be on soon...! I thought we were gonna cuddle?"

"....can I braid your hair and watch my show?"

Jake would look at her seriously before smiling, moving quickly to give her a small kiss on the cheek, "of course you can, only if you give me lots of cuddles after."

"Okay daddy!"

*insert a child who is only half heartedly braiding hair while fully enthralled in their show. Head tilted on a 45° angle to see the TV with half of Jake's hair in a frizzy mangled braid.*

Sam

I really think Sam would want his kids to listen to really good music from a young age.

I mean don't get me wrong I think all of the boys would be like this... but I see him being the kind of parent that buys into the "smarter babies listened to music in important development periods"

The ultimate "my kid is so smart" kind of parent that then shows you 20 drawings that don't look like anything, but clearly they look like something to him.

All those drawings get tucked away somewhere safe so he can go back and look at them proudly as his little one grows up.

"Maybe they'll be an artist?!"

He also strikes me as a parent who wants to be really involved in teaching his kid things. ABC's? Sam's baby has them locked and loaded. Numbers 1-20? Still has trouble remembering anything with a nine but we are working on it.

Ultimate joy is achieved when Sam gets to teach his little one how to ride a bike. He feeling like its a right of passage for every kid to have with their dad.

I pictured Sam sitting with his little boy at the kitchen table, puzzle pieces sprawled all over.

"Dad, I have a joke for you." He'd say as he fiddled with a piece.

"Oh yeah? Go for it buddy." Sam would reply as he connects another edge piece.

"Knock knock!"

"Whose there?"

"Banana!"

"Banana who?"

"The Banana man!" Snickering coming from across the table, hands banging on the table and nearly knocking several pieces off the table.

Sam would laugh a long, "Y'know I've never heard that version of that joke---"

"Dad I'm not done"

"Oh I'm sorry, continue." He'd say beginning to look for a few more pieces to go together.

"Knock knock!"

"Whose there?"

"Banana!"

"Banana who...?" Sam would respond slowly, prepared for the same poorly created joke.

"TWO BANANA MEN!"

Sam would have to lay on the table. It was such a freaking terrible joke but so funny to see the amount of joy it brought the little boys features. "You have to tell that one to mom, okay?"

Danny

Danny is such a loving guy in general, I feel like parenting for him would just be so easy. Not saying that there wouldn't be troubled times--- just that he's just one of those people that were born to parent.

The very dependable parent. Always going to make time for any small thing his little one needs.

Danny is going to encourage his kid to do whatever they love with all of his being.

"You like rocks? We should get a rock polisher."

"You're right these cookies are pretty good, maybe we should get the stuff we need to bake them together."

He is going to have a series or specific book he reads to his little one until they fall asleep. Its something he would refuse to miss, they have to do their chapter! Even if he's on tour somewhere he's going to call home to make sure they can read together.

Danny is over the moon to have a little golfing buddy. As soon as this kid could walk he bought them their own set of clubs so they could play along with him. He just couldn't wait to start teaching them.

Golf time is bonding time. They'd get to walk together and talk about anything and everything.

I've been crazy torn about whether to write about him with a son or a daughter, both are equally as cute. For the sake of evenness though I decided on a boy.

"Okay so for your driver buddy you need to hold your arms waaay out." Danny would tell his son holding his arms out.

"Like this?"

"A little more."

Little eyes look to Danny curiously as his arms become fully extended from his body.

"Perfect! Make sure you stand straight, and keep your eyes on the ball." He says with his hand on the middle of the boys back, "And then you just---"

"SWING!"

Danny nearly getting clocked in the head with a golf club but leans back just in time. The satisfying ting of the little one's club hitting the ball sounds,

"DID YOU SEE HOW FAR IT WENT DAD?!"

*Insert the face Danny made when he pretended Sam's margarita's were good*

~ If anyone wants a full fic written for one of these please let me know because I will 100% write out fluffy family fics without hesitation!! ~

#jake gvf #danny gvf #josh gvf #sam kiszka #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet roleplay #gvf fanfiction #gvf #gvf imagine

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samthemarvelfan · 4 years

Text

See You Again: One Shot

Summary: 5 years after losing Bucky, you find yourself still trying to adjust to your not-so-new version of normal. One knock on your front door changed all that.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC, Steve Rogers.

Warnings: A bit of angst and then pure and squishy fluff.

A/N: Hi everyone! Okay so this one kinda got away from me a little bit (AKA its waaaay longer than I intended.) Still, I hope you like it all the same.

Taglist:@iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @heartofagamotto @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!) Tags are OPEN! Just send an ask :)

Monday.

The sound and smell of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen. Your iced coffee was within an arms reach, using it to kick start your morning.

“Mama, I can’t wait til next year.” Your daughter said proudly, coloring at the kitchen table.

You smiled to yourself, tussling her hair as you put her plate of pancakes and bacon in front of her.

“And why is that, sweet girl?” You asked.

Maggie put down the yellow crayon she’d been scribbling furiously with. “Because Mama, then I get to ride the bus and go to school! Remember what you said? When I’m 5 I get to go to big girl school!” She held up a picture of a wonky school bus with a smiling girl inside.

A chuckle escaped you. “You’re so smart, baby. Do you remember everything I say?”

She nodded taking a big, sticky bite of pancakes. “Yeah. Most of the stuffs anyway. Can you put this one on the ‘frigerator?”

“Of course.” You hung the picture with a homemade play-doh magnet she’s made for you at summer camp last year. Maggie ate happily, as you played music and did the dishes. Mornings like these were your favorite, soaking in the happiness of your daughter before you had to head to work.

You were snuggled with Maggie on the couch, watching Blue’s Clues. She wiggled taking a sip of her apple juice; a treat in her eyes. Usually, you only gave her water.

“Mama, Blue starts with the letter ‘b’!” She shouted excitedly, turning to face you.

Her cerulean eyes lit up at you, looking for confirmation.

You released a shocked gasp, “Oh my gosh, it does! You’re so smart, Maggie!”

She smiled proudly, before turning back to the tv.

“Mama?” She called to you.

“Hm?” You said absentmindedly.

She looked up at you with big eyes once again, “My Daddy’s name started with a ‘B’, too.”

All at once, it’s as if time moved a bit slower. You try your best to hide your reaction from Maggie. “It sure did, baby girl. Well his nickname did, anyway.”

She let out a small giggle, “Oh jeez, I’m so silly, Mama!” She said, pretending to hit her palm against her forehead.

The smallest tears prickled your eyes, “Yes you are, baby. I love you.”

“Wuv you, Mama.” Maggie said, climbing onto your lap and giving you a wet kiss that still smelled of maple syrup.

Glancing at the clock, you notice the time. “Maggie, grab your bag and put your cup in it, Uncle Steve will be here soon.”

She squealed in delight. This was the routine, Steve comes Monday’s and Saturday's to spend time with Maggie, and you do some light office work down at the VA. It was only two days a week, but it made you feel somewhat normal.

As normal as could be.

Steve arrived at 10 am on the dot as usual. “Hey, Ella.” He said smiling, kissing your cheek.

“Hey yourself, someone is excited as al—“

“Uncle Steve!” You were cut off by a high-pitch scream and the pitter-patter of little feet running toward the door.

He crouched and smiled immediately, “Hiya, munchkin!” He scooped her into his arms, carrying her back into the house.

“I brought you a surprise.” He said as he held her.

She instinctively covered her eyes, “I won’t peek! I won’t!”

He placed her down, and pulled a small container of bubbles out of his back pocket.

“Wanna go to the park and maybe blow some bubbles?” He asked her with a smile.

She gasped, “Bubbles! Bubbles, Mama! Uncle Steve brought bubbles!”

You smiled at her excitement, “I see that, baby! Go get your shoes on quick!”

Your smile faltered slightly as Maggie ran to grab her shoes, and Steve noticed.

“You okay?” He asked, rubbing your shoulder.

You nod subtly, “She mentioned him this morning. Just wasn’t expecting her too—hell I never expect her too.”

He smiled, “She’s a smart one, that kid. Remembers everything.”

You smile in an attempt to push the pain away, “I’m always so impressed when she talks about him. It’s like she knows him, Steve. Even though she’s never met him.”

Steve heard the wobble of your voice. He sighed with empathy, before enveloping you in a hug. “He’d be so proud of you. You’re such an amazing Mom, and Maggie...” Steve said pulling back, you noticed the tears brimming his eyes. They must’ve matched yours.

“Maggie is everything good that Bucky ever was. Even more so because she’s half of you. God, she reminds me so much of him.” He smiled fondly.

You feel your lip quiver, “5 years, Steve. I can’t believe he’s been gone that long.” You wipe your eyes quickly, knowing Maggie will be back any second.

Steve cleared the tremors from his throat. “I know.”

“I just wish I got to tell him. I can just see the look on his face...he would’ve been so happy.” You imagine fondly.

“Mama! I got my...Mama? You okay?” Maggie asks, slowing down as she enters the room.

She walks up to you with arms up, and you hoist her to your hip. “Mama’s okay, baby.”

She grabbed your face in her little hands, and shook her head. “Mama sad...” she said quietly.

You kiss her forehead, and hold her to you close. “I’m was a little sad, baby, but seeing you made me so much better. I love you, Maggie.”

“I wuv you, Mama, and I wuv Uncle Steve.” She said happily.

“You do?!” Steve asked, tickling Maggie’s sides.

She laughed for a moment, before clinging to Steve’s neck. “Yeah, and I wuv my Daddy too. I bet he was so nice, Uncle Steve.”

That’s another thing Maggie definitely got from Bucky; knowing just what to say and when to say it.

Steve smiled, and pushed some hair out of her face, “Your Daddy was the best, kiddo. I promise.”

You looked at the clock once more, “Shoot! I gotta go, have a good day, baby!”

You kissed the crown of Maggie’s head, and kissed Steve’s cheek before handing her bag to him, “Lunch is—“

“In the bag.” He said smiling.

“Yeah. Oh and the sunscreen—“

“Little pocket on the front.” He said, handing you your keys.

“Right, oh and don’t let—“

“Don’t let her have anymore juice because she had some already. I got it, Els. Go.” He chucked, ushering you out.

“Okay, okay. Bye, guys!” You said happily.

While you knew talking about Bucky with Maggie was always a good thing, the missing him never got easier. Sure there were days you thought about him less, but he never really left your mind.

Not when the daughter you share is waking you up every morning with hugs and snuggles and kisses.

Bucky missed everything.

He missed the diapers, all those diapers. Her first laugh, and when she said ‘mama’ for the first time. He missed her learn to crawl and her first steps. Bucky never even got to heart her heart beat.

These were things you should have shared with him—memories you should’ve made with him.

You’d gone to therapy. You’d been walked through the stages of grief more times than anyone should have to be. Yet, the hurt was still there. It’s always going to be there, and that’s the life you’ve got to make work now. This—this is your normal.

Friday

“Maggie, don’t touch those cookies, little missy!” You shout from the living room.

She comes sulking out of the kitchen, “Mama you left them on the counter! I see them! They’re right there!”

You chuckle as you finish wrapping the vacuum cord back up to put away. “Yes I did, and they’re for after dinner.”

“That’s not fair!” She whined, fake tears being forced into her eyes.

“Maggie Jane I am in no mood for this. You can either sulk on the couch with no tv, or you can go play in your room until I say your spaghetti is done. Whatcha think?” You asked in your sternest mom-voice.

She wiped the fake tears, “Okay Mama, I go play.”

You bent down and smooched her forehead, “There’s my girl.”

Her feet padded down the hallway, and you made your way to the kitchen, putting on a pot for the pasta.

As you wiped down the counters, you felt something strange; like a surge of energy. The kind that is palpable, and makes your hair stand on end. It was hard to explain, but it was like suddenly the air was electric.

The kitchen lights dimmed four or five times before settling back to normal.

Goosebumps prickled your skin and you’re mind began to race.

“What the hell...” you whispered. “Maggie, you okay?” You called down the hall.

“Yes, Mama! I’m playing with my play-doh!” She responded happily.

Thank God... you thought to yourself.

After what happened 5 years ago, any time something felt off, no matter how small it seemed, you automatically assumed the worst.

You open the shades above your sink. The sun was shining bright—brighter than it had in forever.

“Huh...” you thought aloud.

Before you made the pasta, you sent a quick text to Steve, making sure he was still coming for his weekly dinner. After almost 20 minutes and no response, you figured something came up.

“Maggie! Dinner!” You shout, putting her plate and cup on the table.

She ran into the kitchen with delight, “S’ghetti!” She shouted, grinning from ear to ear.

You scooted her in closer to the table, before sitting in the seat beside her.

“Mama? Where’s Uncle Steve?” She asked taking a bite of her pasta.

You scooted some of the food around on your plate, “I’m not sure, kiddo. I think he might’ve gotten stuck at work.”

“Can we call him?” An innocent question from an innocent mind.

You shook your head, “No, baby. Well call him tomorrow.”

The rest of your evening was relatively calm, considering the unsettling feeling you’ve had since that episode in the kitchen. Maggie had her bath and 2 bedtime stories, and was now safely and soundly tucked in bed.

You, on the other hand, lay awake in your own, your mind unable to quiet the eerily familiar thoughts that something was wrong.

You still hadn’t heard from Steve, which is very unlike him, so you decide to text him once more.

Hey, haven’t heard from you. Weirded out by what happened earlier, idk if it was a power surge or what but now I’m anxiety city. Call me please, so I know you’re safe. Love you.

You sat with that for about an hour, before you eyes betrayed your mind. Your lids felt 1000 times heavier and you decided sleep would be a good idea since Maggie is a notoriously early riser on the weekends. You’ll call Steve in the morning, and if necessary, you’d send out a search party.

Saturday.

You’d surprisingly woken up before Maggie. This meant hopefully and hour or so to yourself, maybe watch a movie without animals that sing? That would be paradise.

As you padded through your living room with your coffee in hand, you jumped hearing someone scream outside.

You put the coffee down and quickly check on Maggie, still sound asleep. Her sound machine muffling the screams and cries from outside.

Peeking out the window, you see your neighbor crying on her knees. She’s holding someone, a boy, no older than 12 or 13.

“Miles?” You ask yourself. He was your neighbor’s son.

He’d also vanished 5 years ago.

“That’s...that’s not possible.” You whisper.

Then you hear it again, more cries. Cries of joy, from all around your neighborhood.

You fumble with the blankets on the couch, searching for your phone. You find it and quickly dial Steve’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

Your body is shaking as you hear the beep. “Steve, I-I don’t know what the hell is happening. T-There’s people who...I don’t know. I’m freaking the fuck out! Call me soon...please.”

A knock at the front door makes you jump. You slipped your phone into your pocket, and walked to it slowly.

With your hand on the knob, you hesitate, feeling your body screaming at you not to open it.

Another set of knocks, softer than the ones before had been.

You let out a puff of air, and swing the door open. When it revealed your visitor, you swear you could have fainted right then and there.

This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be real.

“Hey, Sugar.” He said breathlessly.

His hair was in a bun at the nap of his neck, and he was dressed in a black Henley and sweats to match. His face was bruised and cut and the circles under his eyes showed whatever he’d just been through definitely wasn’t easy.

You felt like you were gonna collapse. The room was spinning and your vision went blurry.

“Y-You’re dead. You’re dead, James.” You spoke. What else could you say?

“Ella, you gotta sit down, your pale as a ghost.” He grabbed your hands and pulled you back into the house.

Bucky kicked the door closed, the sound of it slamming seemingly braking your trance.

“Let me go!” You shout, pulling away from him.

“Els—“ he starts.

You shake your head, “No...stop. You’re not real. I’m hallucinating or something.”

When Bucky first died, you saw him everywhere. Swearing to yourself, and your therapist, that you could still hear him—smell him.

He reached out and stroked your cheek, “I swear to you, Doll, I’m real.”

Your eyes stung with tears, “H-How?”

“It’s a long story. One that I promise I’ll tell you but I really just wanna hold you for a second.” He breathed.

You stared at him. Bucky was, for all intents and purposes, unchanged. He looked the same way he did when he vanished.

You on the other hand looked entirely different. The crinkles by your eyes were more defined, there were stretch marks on your belly from carrying Maggie, and those chronic bags under your eyes from raising her alone.

Bucky took a tentative step forward, before taking your face in his hands. He took you in for a moment, and then wrapped his arms around you. “God, you’re so beautiful.” He said into your hair.

You felt yourself melt into him, something you’d done so many times, it’s no wonder it happened so naturally.

“You always know just what to say.” Your voice was trembling.

You inhaled him. A lifetime of memories flooding your mind, along with all the pain you’d felt for the last 5 years. You shut your eyes tight, keeping the warmth of his body against yours. “I-I can’t even begin to tell you—“

“Shh, I know. Believe me, Els...I know.” He whispered.

You looked up at him. His cerulean eyes reminding you of all the life you’d lived with him, and of the one you’d loved without him. But Bucky was here, standing in the home you’d once shared together.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, “Buck, I need to tell you...” your voice drifted off.

Bucky brushes the hair out of your face, “What is it, Sugar?”

You shook your head, still having trouble believe this is real. “I just, I don’t know where to start, James...”

He kissed your forehead sweetly, his warm lips soothing your soul in a way you didn’t know you needed until this moment.

“Start from right now. I don’t know how to navigate this...but we can figure it out. To—“

“Mama?” Maggie’s small voice interrupted Bucky’s words.

You peek around his large form to see your daughter clinging to her stuffed piglet that shows all the signs of being well-loved for the past few years.

You sigh contently, “Good morning, beautiful girl.”

She quietly walked by Bucky, looking up at him as he stares at her in disbelief. Maggie held her arms out for you and you hoisted her to your hip.

“Ella...” Bucky says breathlessly, looking between the two of you.

He sees it immediately. The eyes that are mirror images of his own, the dimple on her cheek matching the one you have on yours.

You kissed her temple. “This is Maggie.”

A muffled sob sounded from Bucky’s chest, “Maggie...” he whispered happily.

She turns her head at the sound of her name and looks at him, watching him for a moment, taking him in.

“Does your name start with a ‘B’?” She whispered, fiddling with her stuffy.

Bucky smiles and let out a small laugh, “It sure does.”

Maggie turns back to you, her eyes wide with excitement. “Is that my Daddy, Mama?”

You squeeze her tight, blinking the tears away. “It is, baby.”

She wiggles to be put down on the floor, so you oblige.

Confident as always, she walks up to Bucky, and he crouches to meet her. “I’m Maggie.” She says, holding back a giggle.

Bucky smiles and strokes her hair, “Hi, Maggie.” He chokes out.

She spots the tears in his eyes and turns to you. “Mama? Is Daddy sad?”

Daddy

A word that was once so painful for you to hear her say, was now your favorite sound in the world.

“I don’t know, kiddo. Why don’t you ask him?” You say, crossing your arm comfortably.

She turns back to Bucky with her arms raised, and he scoops her up without a second thought. She places her little hands on his face and look at him, “Daddy sad?” She asks.

Bucky’s lip quivered, and he shook his head. “No, beautiful. D-Daddy isn’t sad.” You could tell he couldn’t believe he was saying that word.

“Daddy is so, so happy.”

Bucky has spent the day getting to know his daughter.

Maggie had shown him all of the pictures she’s drawn of him over the years. They’d had a tea party for lunch, and played with her play-doh.

You’d put her down for a nap, and Bucky washed the dishes from lunch. It all felt so routine, domestic...

Normal.

Bucky told you everything.

Thanos. The army. Natasha, and Tony. Oh God, Tony...Your heart hurt for him, and the thought he’d never see his daughter again.

“I’m so sorry, Sugar.” He said, sipping coffee from his mug.

You shook your head in disbelief. “Why are you sorry?”

He thought for a moment, before he grabbed your hand, entangling your fingers.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I made you do all this alone.” He pulled you close to him, so you were leaning against his body.

“I should be apologizing to you, I never even got to tell you...” you drifted off.

He turned your face to his, and put his lips on yours.

Passion wasn’t even an accurate enough word.

This was gratitude. This was fear, it was heartache and lust and yearning all wrapped into one.

This was love.

Bucky pulled away slowly, resting his forehead on yours.

“You’ve given me everything, Ella. Maggie...she’s--she’s incredible, and you made her that way.” The tears in his eyes finally spilled over, as did yours. “I can’t wait to get to know her.”

“I love you, James. I love you.” You said quietly.

Bucky stroked your cheek, “I love you, too.”

#samthemarvelfan #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky angst #dad!bucky

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

Eccentricity [Chapter 5: I’ve Lived The Life And Paid For Every Crime]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Some Kind Of Disaster by All Time Low.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to drugs and violence.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii @bramblesforbreakfast @writerxinthedark @maggieroseevans @culturefiendtrashqueen @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @escabell @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @deacyblues @tensecondvacation @brianssixpence @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @some-major-ishues @haileymorelikestupid @loveandbeloved29

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜

Easy Questions, Evasive Answers

“So it was nothing,” Archer said, glancing up from where he was tinkering around beneath the hood of my 1999 Honda Accord, checking hoses and belts and dipsticks. “This is pathetic, by the way. That you can’t change your own windshield wiper fluid. Dishonor on you. Dishonor on your cow.”

“I never had my own car in Phoenix!” I objected around a mouthful of a Starbucks pumpkin muffin, my first of the season. And that was true: Renee and I couldn’t afford one. “I didn’t have to learn about car things!”

“No, it’s great, I love it, I have a customer for life.”

“It was totally nothing,” I told him. Meaning the photograph in the newspaper article from 1979. Meaning my paranoia surrounding beautiful, brooding, certifiably lethal Benjamin Lee.

Not Lee, I reminded myself. Benjamin August Hardy, born November 3rd 1893.

“Was it really?” Archer asked, skeptical.

“Uhhh, you were the one who was making fun of me for thinking he might be a time traveler. Or a bigfoot.” Or a vampire.

“Yeah, okay, true...” He let the hood of the Honda fall shut with a bang, then wiped the muddy streaks of motor oil from his hands with a stained rag. “But you were freaked out. Like super freaked out.”

“I was, yeah. But it wasn’t him in the photo. I took another look, there were freckles and, uh, like, uh, some other things that didn’t match up.”

“Huh.” Archer watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. “I didn’t notice that.”

“Ben laughed about it. Probably thinks I’m an idiot. A stalker and an idiot.”

Archer smirked slyly. “He must not have held it against you too much. I’ve never seen that guy laugh in my life.”

I took a moody bite of my muffin, rolled my eyes, feigned shallow schoolgirl angst. “Trust me, he’s not my biggest fan.”

“Ohhhh, and this bothers you?” Archer sauntered over and stole a crumbling hunk out of the pumpkin muffin. “Does someone have a little crush on the gorgeous, grouchiest Lee?”

“Definitely not.�� I sipped my chai latte, contemplative, debating telling him more.

“Uh oh. There’s something else, I can see it. Spill the tea, you walking college-chick-who’s-obsessed-with-fall stereotype.”

“I’m so excited! I’m going to get to see changing leaves this year!” Cacti are majestic, ancient, intrepid, and they remind me of home; but they never change. They’re like desert earth that way, like the ocean. Like vampires, actually.

“We’ll have to do all the Instagram-worthy stuff. Pumpkin patches. Hay mazes. Apple picking...you can even bring that Ben guy if you want to. If he promises not to murder me with his mysterious time-travelling demon powers.”

Oh, kid, you have no idea. “So...I am kind of into a Lee guy. But it’s not Ben.”

Archer gasped, inhaled pumpkin muffin morsels, bent over as he hacked them out of his lungs. “Who?!” he rasped, scandalized, and then coughed again.

I couldn’t help but smile as his name spilled out: “Joe.”

“Which one is that? The Middle Eastern Men’s Vogue model one?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, not Rami. He has a girlfriend, by the way.” And has for the past half a century.

Archer wiggled his eyebrows. “Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.”

“Oh my god, please never say that phrase again.”

“Joe is the...” He closed his eyes as he drummed his fingers against the metal workbench, trying to remember.

“The Italian one,” I finished for him.

“Ahhh. The annoying one.”

“He is not annoying! Why do people keep saying he’s annoying?! He’s hilarious, and sweet, and lowkey wicked smart, and, and, and...”

Archer whistled, grinning, his dark eyes sparkling. “Damn, girl. You do like him. You really like him.”

I sighed in defeat. “Okay. I really, really like him.”

“Like him as in would swipe right on Tinder, or like him as in you want to get married and honeymoon in Hawaii and have twelve pasty, angular babies?”

“Oh wow.” And for the first time, I was confronted with the singular enigma that was a future with Joe. Vampires had relationships with other vampires, obviously, even marriages; but that didn’t mean the same rules applied to humans. Did he like me? Could he like me? What would that even look like? How would it end? And it would have to end, of course, eventually. Unless somehow I stopped aging too. “More than just a right swipe. We’ll see about the twelve kids.”

“Just make sure he wraps it before he taps it. I’m too young to be an uncle.”

“Stop,” I pleaded, gulping down my latte, averting my gaze across Archer’s small garage filled with customers’ vehicles, pretending not to be intrigued and yearning and petrified. I couldn’t imagine hooking up with someone as faultless and—presumably—experienced as Joe and being anything but a disappointment. I’ve never hooked up with anyone. At all. Ever.

“What?” he asked, concerned, thieving another piece of my pumpkin muffin. Powdered sugar dusted his fingers like the snow I’ve only seen two or three times in my life.

“Nothing. I just really wish you went to Calawah too.”

“And give up all this easy money from clueless suburbs people like you?” Archer beamed, wily and proud and affectionate. “Not a fucking chance.”

No More Sad Spaghetti

Joe gawked in horror, chomping noisily on his Big League Chew bubblegum, as I unwrapped the peanut butter sandwich I’d packed for lunch. It was mostly cloudy in the early September sky overhead, but he was still wearing sunglasses. He had traded in his ubiquitous U Chicago apparel for a Cubs t-shirt. Squirrels scurried through the bigleaf maple trees that dotted the campus, snatching up acorns with tiny clawed paws, wriggling whiskered noses in our direction.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, taking a bite. “It’s not sad spaghetti.”

He blew a small pink bubble, then popped it with his teeth. “Yeah, but it’s...like...mangled.”

“It got trapped between my textbooks!” I protested. Admittedly, the accordion-shaped peanut butter sandwich—my vegetarian alternative to fishstick Thursday—kind of sucked.

“You can’t eat that. Oh my god. It’s making me so sad. Give it to the squirrels.” Joe pulled out his iPhone. “What’s your preferred pizza topping?”

“I can’t tell you,” I replied, tossing my sandwich towards the nearest tree. A hoard of squirrels immediately descended upon it and proceeded to battle for dominance, emitting shrill, peanut-butter-crazed shrieks.

His brow furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because you might not like me anymore.”

“Why would I not like you because of pizza...?” And then he knew. “Oh no, oh god, please don’t say pineapple.”

“I’m a pineapple pizza person.”

“Baby Swan,” Joe said, deadly serious, pressing his palms together. “That is straight up sacrilegious. You can’t put tropical fruit on a pizza. You realize I’m Italian, like an actual Italian. I’m so Italian I’ve killed other Italians for being the wrong kind of Italian. That’s how Italian I am.”

“I feel like maybe I shouldn’t socialize with literal mobsters. It’s unsavory.”

“Settle down, I’m ordering the half-pineapple pizza, you freaking barbarian.”

I watched Joe as he tapped his thumbs against the screen, humming to himself, amused, perpetually buoyant. And I couldn’t picture him as a monster, as a killer: pulling triggers, slitting throats, digging blades into soft vulnerable love handles, feeling for the mortal puncture of a lung or kidney. I asked him, my voice quiet, hesitant, almost lost in the autumn wind: “Did you actually hurt people?”

“Nah. I didn’t have the stomach for it, even back then. I was on the deal-making side of things. The business side. I was a people person, a smooth talker, astronomically charming.”

I smiled, mischievous. “That’s difficult to imagine.”

“Okay, so no cheesy breadsticks for you.”

“I’m sorry, mob guy. Please order the breadsticks. You’re so charming I can’t stand it. My jeans are unzipping all by themselves.”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “So you’ll sacrifice your dignity for breadsticks. Good to know.” He finished typing and laid his iPhone on the grass. “Alright, next question.”

“Does your hair grow?” Joe’s hair—I couldn’t help but notice—seemed longer than it was the day I met him a week and a half ago, disorderly and auburn-tinted, ruffling in the breeze.

“It does, yeah. Hair and nails still grow. So you have to shave, but you can’t get razor burn. And any nicks close right up.”

“Very cool. How often do you need to eat? You know...actually eat.”

“It varies, but generally twice a week.”

“And what kind of animal has the tastiest blood? Besides...well...” I gestured towards myself. “The upright two-legged kind with opposable thumbs and a partiality for pineapple pizza.”

He blew another bubble, then leaned in towards me. And I realized, for the first time, that he had his own inherent, exclusive, totally Bath-And-Body-Works-worthy scent as well; Dr. Gwilym Lee was sandalwood and campfires and log cabins, Mercy was roses and vanilla...and Joe was pine trees, peppermint, cold night air, like all of that eternally youthful magic of Christmas Eve sieved into a bottle. I popped the sheer pink bubble with the cap of my blue pen. Joe asked: “Do humans like chocolate or vanilla ice cream? Coffee or tea? Baseball or something hella lame?”

“Depends on the human.”

“Exactly. Same deal for vampires. I prefer bears, especially grizzlies. Lucy and Mercy like deer, elk, moose, animals like that. Ones with hooves. Weirdly, Rami’s favorite is crocodile, I think because it was the first thing he ever tried in Egypt. He doesn’t get it very often, but has been known to buy them on the black market on occasion. Scarlett likes mountain lions. Also domestic cats, but you didn’t hear that from me. Gwil is a wolf guy, but he won’t kill the endangered kinds. Such a gentleman.”

“How about Ben?”

“Ben’s still coming around to the whole eating animals thing. I don’t think he has a favorite yet.”

Joe isn’t a killer, and he never was; I could believe that. But Ben... “Why is he so different than the rest of you?”

“That’s...kind of a long story,” Joe replied carefully.

“It wouldn’t be such a long story if people stopped talking about how it’s a long story and actually told it to me.”

He flashed a grin, revealing white canine teeth filed into points; they were subtle, yes, but they were there. Fangs. I envisioned pressing a fingerprint against them and feeling the flesh split in two, the blood dripping down onto his tongue like Washington rain. And unlike Joe’s skin, mine wouldn’t knit back together on its own. “But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of tormenting you with the prospect of incredibly juicy yet confidential information!”

I rolled my eyes, sipped my can of Diet Coke, returned my attention to our lunch plans. “So garlic doesn’t repel you. That part of the lore is completely made up.”

“Yup. Thank god. Eternal life would be worthless without pizza.”

“Can you do drugs? Get drunk?”

“We can’t overdose, but we can get the effects of anything we consume. It’s not a good habit to get into though. If you’re nodding on heroin for like four days at a time, it’s pretty easy for some other vampire to find and murder you.”

“So a vampire can be killed by another vampire.”

“Absolutely. Next question.”

I consulted my mental list. “Do you sleep?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of. We nap for a few hours a day.”

“What happens if you don’t?”

“We get bitchy. Really bitchy. We essentially turn into Ben.”

I laughed, chewing absentmindedly on the end of my pen. “So that’s his problem. He hasn’t napped in a century. Now it all makes sense.”

“Something like that,” Joe said. “You gonna come over tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to present The Walruses And Me tomorrow and I still haven’t started the book.”

“What do you know, I can tell you all about The Walruses And Me!”

“Seriously? You’ve read it?”

“No, but I can enthusiastically narrate the Wikipedia article to you while you pet Mercy’s alpacas.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Terrible for your grade in Marine Mammals. Good for your development as an interesting and happy human.”

“Nice try, but I’m already both of those things.”

Joe reached out suddenly, jarringly, and ran the back of his hand across my cheek. My favorite Lee, I thought, thoroughly transfixed but trying to hide it. Oh no. “Interesting, definitely. But I have this gnawing, distressing suspicion that you’re still working on the happy part.”

“I miss the desert,” I confessed. That wasn’t quite all of the problem, but it was accurate: I missed the heat, the sun, the parched prehistoric air I had always called home. Although I was beginning to find reasons to like Forks, Charlie and Archer and the promise of a Pacific Northwestern autumn; and then one big reason in particular. A very old, pale, chatty, Italian reason.

“A bit of a quandary for a future marine biologist,” he replied gently, perhaps apprehensively.

“I always figured I’d live somewhere like San Diego or Los Angeles or Galveston. Someplace on the ocean, but also sunny and hot and with palm trees. The best of both worlds. But you couldn’t go there with me, could you?”

Oh no.

Oh NO.

Oh fuck, this is definitely a crushing-on-Lee-boys zone.

Joe stared at me through his sunglasses, chomping on his Big League Chew, the corners of his mouth turned up and etching lines like parentheses into his face, pleased and nodding slowly and triumphant somehow. Then he struck out his hand again, this time with his pinky raised like a flagpole. “No more pathetic depressing lunches.”

“You got it. No more sad spaghetti. No more sad peanut butter sandwiches. You have my solemn, human vow.”

He smiled as his pinky entwined with mine. “No more sad anything.”

“So this vampire thing sounds like a pretty sweet gig. No dying, no consequences for a hellacious diet or wild condomless orgies, literal superpowers, perfect hair...why doesn’t everyone get to live that way?”

He shrugged; and there was an unfamiliar, meditative tension in his face. Almost sorrow. “It’s not all pizza and orgies and heroin. We have weaknesses too.”

“Like what?”

“Hey, look!” Joe piped cheerfully, twisting around towards the parking lot. “I think our GrubHub guy is here.”

Bad Blood

I was definitely regretting that fourth slice of pineapple pizza as I waddled into Chemistry, navigating sluggishly around the hulking frat boys and giggling sorority girls and mousy bookish types who lugged around colossal backpacks that were always threatening to knock an unsuspecting passerby off their feet at each unthinking turn. But while I was arriving in the classroom—physically, anyway; emotionally I was standing in an empty field somewhere screaming I cannot be falling in love with a hundred-year-old mobster vampire!! into the void—Ben was a countercurrent darting through the crowds and towards the hallway door.

“Where are you rushing off to, old guy?” I asked him. “Bingo? To renew your AARP membership? To walk vigorously around the inside of a mall?”

Ben responded in that deep, low, humorless voice. “They’re doing some kind of blood typing experiment today. I probably shouldn’t be around for that.”

“Oh.” I glanced over at Professor Belvin, who was indeed hunched over the table at the front of the classroom and laying out rows of Q-tips and rectangular paper cards and alcohol swabs and bottles of clear liquid, whistling what sounded like Time Of The Season.

Ben sighed irritably, rubbing his crinkled forehead. “I already used up all my absences. I’m gonna have to make up a compelling last-minute tragedy. Tell Professor Belvin my grandma died or something.”

“I mean, technically, she did at some point.”

“Ugh,” Ben replied, not consoled at all.

“Wait, I got this.”

I gripped my belly, sank into the nearest chair, and groaned dramatically. It really didn’t require all that much acting. Ben watched with huge green eyes, confounded.

“Miss Swan!” Professor Belvin cried, rushing over. He was wearing khaki pants, a white shirt, and suspenders and a matching bowtie patterned with bubbling multicolored test tubes. Belvin had been Charlie’s classmate from kindergarten through high school, and still palled around with him over Bud Lights and low-quality nachos on bowling league nights. Bowling was, evidently, the sport of choice for middle-aged Forks dads. Also for Welsh vampire pseudo-dads born in the 1400s.

I whimpered in reply.

“Are you alright, Miss Swan?” Professor Belvin asked worriedly. A few students had begun to congregate around the scene. I felt a pang of genuine nausea as perspiration beaded at my temples. You better appreciate this, Mr. Hardy.

“I’m okay,” I said, in my most pained and martyrish voice. “I don’t want to miss...today’s lesson...it looks so fascinating...but I didn’t wash my kale thoroughly last night and then I had a salad for dinner and now I might have food poisoning.”

“You poor thing!” Belvin exclaimed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about class. You can just answer some textbook questions or something, no problem. Please go get checked out to make sure you’re alright.”

“Could someone...maybe...help me get to the campus clinic...?” My eyes listed towards Ben. “Maybe...my lab partner?”

“That’s a good idea.” Professor Belvin turned to Ben. “Mr. Lee, would you be willing to escort Miss Swan to the clinic? You can do an alternative assignment as well. If you don’t mind missing the blood typing lab.”

“I’d be delighted to help,” Ben responded, still puzzled. I offered him my hand, and Ben took it, grimacing as he led me out into the hallway. As soon as we were alone, he dropped my hand and opened up several feet of space between us.

“Thanks so much, Miss Swan, you are a lifesaver,” I said, imitating his morose, rumbling British accent. “Oh, you’re very welcome, Ben. You can repay me in basic courteous conversation and Starbucks gift cards and by maybe not killing me.”

“So you’re totally fine?” Ben asked flatly.

“Of course. Nobody with taste eats raw kale.”

Frowning, frustrated, he started puffing on his vape pen. “You need to stop doing nice things for me. It’s extremely disorienting.”

“This may be difficult for you to come to terms with, but you, Ben Hardy, are worth being the recipient of nice things.”

“No, you still don’t get it,” he snapped, grabbing my wrist, spinning me around to face him in the empty hallway. “That’s all I’ve ever done. Kill people like you.”

The Fire

“Who is the cutest little alpaca I’ve ever seen?!” I cooed in a squeaky falsetto, scratching her wooly brown chin. “Who’s going to come home and live with me and Charlie forever?!”

“That’s illegal, ma’am.” Joe was watching me, arms crossed over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, smiling wistfully.

“It is not!”

“It actually is,” Rami added. He was lying on the grass and gazing up into the roiling, grey, late-afternoon clouds with his fingers laced behind his black hair. None of the Lees were wearing sunglasses now. “A house has to be zoned as farmland to have alpacas, which ours is. Yours, tragically, is not.”

“What are you, a lawyer?” I shot back.

Rami grinned. “I was once. And I will be again, in approximately...let me count...five years.”

“That’s what you want to do with your boundless time and energy? Be a corporate shill?”

Joe cackled. “He tried that already. It lasted about five minutes.”

“Manhattan in the 1980s,” Rami reminisced dreamily. “Hundred-hour workweeks. Cocaine everywhere. What a time to be alive. And I hardly ever left the office, so the sunlight thing wasn’t a problem.”

“Okay, so you’re not in it for the Maseratis or the drugs...”

“I’m going to be an immigration attorney,” Rami told me. “Help refugees apply for asylum to come to the United States. Arabic-speaking refugees, in particular.”

“Wow. I stand corrected. That’s wonderful, Rami. I now feel like a total tool for only aspiring to save sea turtles.” But it made sense, of course. What would any good person spend eternity doing? Making the world just a tiny bit better. I glanced at Joe, teasing him. “And you just study how to get rich, huh?”

“I’m a venture capitalist,” he said brightly. “I invest in small businesses, counsel them, encourage them, connect them with other people in the industry, help them grow. And I don’t need the money, so I take a practically microscopic equity stake. I’m basically a professional charitable donor.”

“And you get to put all of those charming mob-guy skills to use.”

Joe winked. “Exactly.”

“Doesn’t it get old?” I asked both of them. “Being college students?”

Rami shrugged. “No really. The world changes, schools of thought evolve, our own interests fluctuate. Every few decades we circle back and go for another round, fresh degrees, maybe new professions entirely. You learn something new every time.”

“And I’ve been waiting for all my old professors to die so I could go back to U Chicago for fifty years!” Joe shouted. “I’m fucking pumped!”

“But...don’t you already know everything...?”

Joe chuckled. “We’re vampires, Baby Swan, we’re not prodigies. We’re sharper than the average person, sure. But it still takes effort to learn. And we all have things we suck at.”

“Like not being obnoxious,” Rami said, nodding to Joe.

“Like not minding our own fucking business,” Joe hurled back.

“I cannot control the fact that I’m a literal mind reader—”

“You boys behave yourselves,” Mercy called in her relaxed, drawling Southern accent, swinging a basket of carrots and zucchinis and cabbages that she’d dug out of her garden, wearing a long flowing yellow dress and her hair tied up in a scarf. She plodded over in her bare feet, handed me a few carrots, then pointed to the chocolate-colored alpaca I was petting. “That lady there is Athens. And the black and white one by Joe is Augusta. Then there’s Norcross, and Alpharetta, and Savannah...and that real chubby grey one heading into the barn is Marietta.”

“I adore them,” I replied, beaming. Mercy had sheep and pigs and a couple of cows too, all ambling contently around the emerald green field as the first threads of fiery, rust-hued sunset were lighting up the horizon.

“We used to have ducks, too,” Mercy mused. “But they disappeared recently...”

Rami passed Joe a knowing smirk. Joe mouthed back menacingly: Do not.

“Hey mom,” Rami piped.

Joe jabbed an index finger at him. “No, don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare—”

“Joe ate the ducks.”

“You bitch!” Joe cried.

“Oh, Joseph,” Mercy sighed mournfully, lifting a brush out of her basket and dragging it down Athens’ fuzzy back.

“I’m sorry! It was one time! I was weak!”

“I’m not angry, sweetheart,” Mercy said. “I’m just disappointed.”

“Mom, that’s worse!”

Rami climbed to his feet and swatted grass and leaves off his cardigan sweater. “Alright folks. My work here is done. Peace out.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do a hit and run like that, hey, Rami, hey, hey, come back here!”

Joe trotted after him, shouting a litany of insults, as Rami laughed hysterically and careened into the house. Lucy and Gwil were in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies; Scarlett was in the garage changing the brakes on Ben’s Vantage; Ben was noticeably absent from the Lee household and presumably out hunting. It was remarkably easy to picture his fingers closing around bloodied flesh, a wolf’s or a bear’s or an elk’s, lowering his fangs to a pulsing jugular.

“So you’re really into this whole farming thing,” I said to Mercy, looking out over the field rimmed by towering western hemlock trees. I didn’t know exactly how many acres of land the Lees owned, but it was a lot. Mercy adopted rescue animals, donated vegetables from the garden to local food pantries, and occasionally rented out the barn as a wedding venue.

“I’ve always loved it. I had a farm, you know. Before I met Gwil.”

Before she died.

“I didn’t know that,” I murmured, wanting to learn more, afraid to ask, never meaning to pry or offend. “I remember you mentioned the Civil War, and a barn...being...well...being trapped in it. When it burned down.”

Mercy nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s the polite version of the story, isn’t it?” She set down her basket in the tall grass, tugged distractedly at a dark strand of hair that had escaped her scarf, stared glassily out into the sunset muted with cloud cover as Athens moseyed away. “Do you want to know what happened? I’ll tell you if you do. But I don’t want to upset you, dear.”

My voice was barely a whisper. “I’d like to know.”

“We had a little farm out in the middle of nowhere,” Mercy explained. “My husband Arthur and I.”

And it felt so outlandish to hear her say those words. Husband. She had a husband before Gwil. She had a whole life before this one.

“He had a bullet in one leg and a limp from a hunting accident when he was a boy, so he was never called up to enlist. It was a rich man’s war, but it was the poor men they sent to die in it. That’s how it always goes, I expect. And how it always will. We had two daughters, twelve and fifteen. I won’t tell you their names. Don’t take that personally, dear. I haven’t spoken their names in a hundred and fifty years.”

She turned her murky eyes—like homemade bread crust or coffee or the wood walls of a log cabin—to me.

“When the Union Army came through, they were beasts. Men like that...men who have been killing and looting and burning their way across hundreds of miles...all they want to do is get blood on their hands. That’s all they remember how to do. So that’s exactly what they did. They slaughtered our cattle for meat. They burned the house down. And then they took me and my girls, and they...they...well, you know what they did. What men do when they’re monsters. And when Arthur tried to stop them, they shot him in the chest and spit mouthfuls of chewing tobacco on him as he bled out in the dirt. Called him a coward and a deserter. Told him everything they were planning to do to me and my girls. And when they were done doing all of those things, they locked the three of us in the barn and set it ablaze. I was the only one still alive when Gwilym got there. And believe me, I didn’t want to be.”

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, my throat burning for Mercy, for her family, for this divinely kind and benign and tender woman.

She patted my cheek fondly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I got a second chance. Gwilym gave me a second chance. That’s what he does, you know. He finds broken people, fixes them, loves them fiercely. He gave me forever. Two more daughters. And three sons.”

Three sons, I thought. Rami and Joe and Ben. She counted Ben.

“Does someone have to be dying?” I asked her softly. “You know. To become like you.”

“No, honey. That’s just how Gwil does things.”

“But...why? What’s the possible downside? Why not change anyone who wants it?” Why not change someone like me?

And Mercy peered over at me, contemplative, curious, like tiptoeing gingerly over rotted floorboards, like weaving through a minefield. Like she was trying to figure out what I’d already been told.

“Hey Baby Swan,” Joe said, startling me. I whirled to see him waiting with a patient smile and his hands buried in his pockets. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

He led me upstairs to Gwil’s 1960s-style office, where Dr. Lee had cleaned and stitched the tiny gash in my forehead after my misadventure with Ben in the woods outside Calawah University, where the wall above the sturdy oak desk was adorned with a massive painting filled with gorgeous, unfamiliar, inhuman faces. Joe took a deep breath, and then he began.

“This,” he announced, introducing the painting, “is the vampire version of the mob. They can trace their existence back to before the Roman Empire. They find people who they think have potential, have talents. They turn them. And then they offer them a hundred-year contract. You sign it, or they murder you. When your term is up, you get to decide whether to renew or leave. But almost no one ever leaves. After a century of taking orders and guarding and killing, what else do you know how to do?” He pointed to the terrifying woman with long white hair and red eyes. “That’s Liesl. She’s literally Satan, only blonder. The chick with the tattoos is Akari. She can meet a human and tell what powers they’ll have once they’re changed. Very useful, obviously. The dude who looks like Idris Elba is Cato, and he’s actually an okay guy, he’s the one currently assigned to keep tabs on Gwil’s coven...”

I soaked the names in like rain into dark, lush Washington earth as Joe relayed them to me, strange and beautiful names: Aruna, Phelan, Morana, Adair, Zora, Araminta, Honora, Victorien, Rigel, Sahel.

“Who’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the young man standing at the center of the painting, the one with black hair and eyes so light and luminous a brown they were almost gold and a sinister, unmistakable magnetism.

“Very good question,” Joe complimented. “That’s their Al Capone. That’s Larkin.”

“And what’s his vampire superpower?” He has to have one. I know he does.

“How do I even put that into words? It’s more than charisma. It’s slightly less than mind reading. He can see through people, what they want most, what they fear. And he can make them do things.”

I gazed into those omniscient glowing eyes, feeling myself getting caught there, feeling some primal dread swelling in the capillary beds of my heart and lungs and bone marrow. “Joe, I’m thoroughly enjoying this captivating backstory, really, but...why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because you asked why Ben is so different than the rest of us. This is why.” Joe waved broadly at the painting, at the closest thing his world had to a mafia, to unrepentant killers, to actual demons. “This is where he came from.”

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scenecipriano · 4 years

Text

A True Love Never Dies Pt.1

Remember this? Yeah well I decided to do it- won’t be super long but still!

Relationships: Roceit, past Anxceit, parental Locet, Parental Royality, Parental Intruality

TW: Sickness mention, yelling mention, object throwing mention, break-up, implied emotional abuse, implied death, graves.

CAN I GET YEE-HAW?

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Returning home was last minute for Janus, he hadn’t planned to return home until Christmas, but his boyfriend, sorry ex-boyfriend, Virgil Craine decided to throw another one of his fits, screaming and yelling at Janus that they were through, throwing various objects at him telling him to get out of their shared apartment. Virgil’s cruel words still stung, but Janus wasn’t going to focus on them. Not when he’s landed at the ATL airport, a small smile forms on his face as he takes in the bright Georgia sky.

‘Home sweet home…’

“Roman! Get ya head outta the damn clouds and help me load the hay will ya!?” Remus shouts up to his brother, Roman looks down at him from his perch in the old oak tree that stood proudly behind their family home.

“I thought daddy told you to load the hay yourself after you let the chickens chase the mailman off yesterday?”

Roman barks out a laugh when his brother’s face grows red, it obvious that the younger twin was hoping that the incident was forgotten.

“He did, but that doesn’t mean you still can’t help me! Besides, pa’s having lunch with Logie-boo. Ya know he always loses track of time when out with the reverend.”

Roman rolls his eyes and climbs down from the tree, landing on his boot covered feet with a soft thud. He sweeps his light brown hair off his face and huffs.

“No, do it yourself. While you’re having fun with that I’m going to go visit maw and grandpa, it’s been awhile.”

Remus let’s out a loud groan as he leans his head back, causing his ball cap to fall to the ground, his dark brown locks spilling out and going past his shoulders.

“Fiinee, tell them I said hi and that I love em, alright?”

“I always do, Ree… and put your hat back your hair is looking a mess.”

Roman snickers as his brother flips him the finger, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of worn out blue jeans, he looks a right mess, and his grandma would tell him so if she were here, but he wanted to talk to them.

“Thank you for the ride, it was nice meeting you.” Janus says as he pays the taxi driver, he grabs his one suitcase (It was all he could grab before Virgil came back and found him in the apartment yesterday) from the trunk.

“It’s no problem, but I gotta know, what’s a city boy like yourself doing around these parts?”

Janus smiles, he must have lost his accent from the eight years he spent in the city after school.

“I’m actually from here, but again thank you, it was nice meeting you drive safe now.”

Janus waves to the taxi driver as he pulls away, he walks up to his father’s house and grabs the spare key from under the welcome mat. He unlocks the door and pushes it open. The familiar smell of books and apple cider hit him, Janus smiles and breathes the scents in, it was so much different from being in the city.

“Papa? I’m home!” He calls Janus was met with silence.

He walks inside, closing the door behind him. He peeks into the living room and then into the kitchen, his father was nowhere to be seen. Janus moves towards the stairs, taking them two at a time with his suitcase clutched in his hand. He opens the door to the study, empty.

“Must have gone shopping…”

Janus shrugs and closes the study door back, he moves on down the hall stopping at the end in front of a pale yellow door. He opens the door and is shocked to see it so clean. Janus smiles and shakes his head as he steps inside.

“Everything is still the same…” He mumbles as he traces his fingers over his dresser. Janus places his suitcase on the bed, he tenses up when he hears the front door open.

“I could have sworn I locked this door…”

Janus hadn’t expected tears to fill his brown and blue eyes when he heard his father’s voice, but they did. Janus rushes out of his room and back downstairs, he stops on the last step. His father looked startled, his salt and pepper hair styled in its usual way, square framed glasses settled over dark blue eyes and a slightly wrinkled face.

“Janny?” Logan asks.

With the use of his old nickname the dam broke, Janus lets out a choked sob as he throws himself at his father. He clings to him when Logan holds his son tight.

“I-I should have c-called I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry… it’s okay you never have to call to come back home. If you did your mama would kill me from the afterlife.”

Janus lets out a wet laugh as he squeezes his father, they break apart moments later both of them wiping away tears from their eyes.

“Speaking of your mother… I think you should go see her, it’s been eight years afterall Jan. Once you’re done we can celebrate your return and catch up.” Says Logan as he places his hands on his son’s shoulders, the old priest looks him over before giving him another hug.

“I’m so glad you’re home…”

“Me too, daddy…”

Roman crouches down in front of two graves, a small smile on his tanned face as he lays a wild daisy in front of the stones.

“Hey maw...paw… Been awhile huh? I’ve been busy… keeping Ree in line and helping daddy tend to the farm… It’s been hard on dad since mama left… but we’re making it. After all we got y’all looking down on us…”

He sighs when he feels the cool September wind wash over him, it’s been getting cooler as the days go by.

“This was always Jan’s favorite time of year… Never too hot or too cold… Wonder what he’s up to these days…”

Roman huffs and sits on the ground, ignoring how the wet earth was seeping through his jeans.

“Yeah yeah, I shoulda gone after him… but I couldn’t have stopped him. It was his dream to go to New York, I didn’t want to ruin that for him… now he’s got some fancy city boyfriend.”

Roman sighs as he lays back against the grass.

“Yeah guess you’re right… Maybe he will come back… one can only hope.”

“Hi, mama… Been awhile huh?” Janus says as he kneels down, his mother’s gravestone still looking all shiny and new. He smiles as he gently traces over the angel wings that his father had engraved on the stone.

“Finally came home… sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral, Virgil’s cousin had a wedding and I just had to be there… I cried my eyes out the whole time. I hope you know that.”

Janus sniffles and shakily wipes his eyes.

“I-I wish you were here… Could really use your advice right about now.”

The last time he saw his mother was over a video chat, she was in the hospital fighting for her life when the cancer she had grew worse.

“Just… Y-You would have all the answers mama… I… I-I gave him eight years of my life and he...h-he threw me away like I was nothing…”

Janus lets out a sob and buries his face in his hands.

“H-How can he sleep at night after what he did!? T-The nerve of him… h-he left so easily, like eight years meant nothing.”

Another sob leaves him.

“C-Can you die from a b-broken heart, mama?”

“I’m not your mama… but I can tell you that you can’t die from a broken heart.”

Janus tenses up and whirls around, he felt his heart leap into his throat when brown and blue eyes locked onto pale green.

Roman offers him a small smile.

“R-Roman?”

“Hi Jan…”

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A/N: If anyone wants tagged just let me know~ enjoy!

#sanders sides #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders mentioned #implied unsympathetic virgil #implied abusive virgil #roceit #toxic anxceit implied #tw death mentioned #tw grave mention #tw sickness #tw yelling mention #tw breakup #tw implied emotional abuse #tw object thrown #time for the stereotypical southern romance y'all

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thefloorisbalaclava · 4 years

Text

Everywhere - Chapter 9

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings: none just some drunken shenanigans

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than the others and is meant as a little reprieve from all the angst I’ve been writing between these two lately. The song for this chapter is Over My Head by Fleetwood Mac :)

Summary: After Javier shows up at your place you give him dinner and maybe drink a little too much wine.

Dinner with Javier. It wasn't like a date or anything. He showed up randomly and it would've been rude to just send him away without anything so you two had dinner together. Now, you were sitting outside talking about whatever came to mind. Two empty bottles of wine sat on the small table between the chairs you sat in and Javier tipped one upside to show you.

"Vacío," he mumbled.

"Yes, yes it is." You sat back in your chair and stared up at the sky.

"Is there more?" he asked.

"I didn't know you liked wine so much."

"I didn't either. Seems like you show me all kinds of things I don't know about myself," he said. When you looked at him he was staring ahead with a sort of contemplating look on his face.

"And that scares you?"

"Yeah, it does."

"Maybe it's something you need to do, you know? Take a long, hard look at yourself. I mean really look. Not just with your eyes." You walked into the house to grab another bottle of wine. "I can't believe I'm drinking all my wine with someone I didn't even want to be near when I got back," you said as you walked back out.

"Give it here." Javier uncorked the bottle and poured you a glass before pouring himself one. "Maybe this is just what we needed to, I dunno, fix things."

"Fix things, huh?" You looked at him over your glass as you drank.

"Look, I admit I fucked up."

"Is Javier Peña admitting he did something wrong? I must be drunk," you joked.

"But it's not all on me," he said and you moved the glass away from your face slowly.

"Javier. Don't."

"You left without saying a fucking word to me." He hadn't raised his voice at all. He didn't want an argument. "How was I supposed to know?"

"And if I had told you...just walked right up to you and told you I loved you, what would've changed?"

"I don't know but I woulda known how you felt about me in person instead of reading it in a letter that ripped my fucking heart out." He looked right into your eyes as he spoke. He was killing you softly. "Yeah, I have a heart. I know you think I only have two heads though...Steve told me."

"Fuckin' Murphy…" You shook your head and laughed. "Javier, I...this whole thing is so complicated. I don't even know what it is anymore."

"Does it have to have a name?" He poured more wine into his glass then lifted his eyebrows silently asking if you wanted more. You nodded and he filled your glass again.

"I guess not." You sipped some of the wine. "We'd probably have great sex, you and me," you said nonchalantly.

Javier sputtered into his glass then cleared his throat before speaking. "You think so?"

"Honestly, it's been so fuckin' long I feel like taking a page from your book."

"You don't wanna be like me. Trust me."

"I have needs too. Maybe I should just stop looking for love and just find a quick, no strings attached-"

"Stop," he snapped. "We both know you don't want that."

"So you know what I want now?" you asked. "Or are you just saying that because you can't stand the idea of me fucking someone that isn't you?"

"You're drunk," he said before finishing the wine in his glass and quickly refilling it.

"And so are you." You stood on wobbly legs and walked into the hacienda carefully. "Bring the wine!" you shouted to him because you knew he would follow.

"I don't think you need anymore."

"Stop telling me what I want and need, Peña." You sat heavily on the rug in front of the small couch.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asked.

"'Cause I want to. That okay with you, sir?" you slurred.

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"Why can't I just...hate you?" You sniffled and stared down at the floor. "And now every time I sit at my table or sit outside or sit here I'll think of you." You thought of him all day everyday anyway. "You're everywhere, Javi. Why do you have to be everywhere?"

"You want me to leave?" he asked and silently prayed you would say no.

"No, Javi...just sit with me, please." You patted the floor beside you and he sighed before settling beside you.

"So…"

You put your head on his shoulder. "I didn't mean what I said out there...the stuff about you not liking the idea of me sleeping with anyone else…"

"You meant it and you're right," he admitted. You lifted your head to look at him. "I hate that someone out there might see more than I saw of you that one time…"

"You still think about that?"

"Every damn day. How could I forget?"

"Easy. You can go fuck it away." You remembered him saying something like that when he talked about your letter and how it made him feel.

"I've tried but no one made me feel that same intensity I had with you."

"But we didn't even have sex." You watched as he played with the fabric of your dress nervously.

"I know. I don't understand it either."

"There's nothing quite like wanting what you can't have," you said sadly.

"Can I ask you something?" He looked at you and you nodded. "Why haven't you...been with anyone?"

"Because they're not you." Tears filled your eyes and you looked away quickly.

"So what you said about taking a page from my book…"

"You were right. It's not what I want." You didn't see it but Javier closed his eyes in relief. "Hm." You took the aviators he had hanging on his shirt and put them on before standing. He grabbed your leg to help steady you. "Look, I'm Javier Peña." Your voice sounded nothing like his but you tried.

"You're fuckin' horrible," he said but he laughed.

"I smoke cigarettes and wear...pink shirts but I never button all the buttons. Gotta show off my sexy, broad chest." You pulled the front of your dress down to demonstrate.

"So you think my chest is sexy?"

"I...I didn't say...I'm pretending to be you."

He stood and made his way over to you. "I have never called my chest sexy. That was the first word you thought of, huh?"

"Shut up, Javi." You walked around him to grab an apple off the table. "So how do I look?" You stood the way he would, hands on your hips and one hip jutted out.

"Ridiculous," he lied. He was sure he would never see anything sexier than you wearing a flowing dress and his aviators. Those were already his favorite shades, but he liked them even more now.

You shrugged and bit into the apple. He even thought that was sexy. "Did we really get drunk together?" you asked

"Seems like it." He walked up to you and took the apple from you then took a bite.

"Hey!"

"You took my glasses. I took your apple. Fair is fair." He took another bite and held it out to you.

"Keep it." You took the glasses off and put them back where you got them trying your hardest not to brush your hand against his chest. You found yourself staring at the bare skin longer than intended. He smacked his lips after swallowing the bit of apple he'd eaten and now your eyes focused there.

"You sure you don't want another bite?" He held the apple near your mouth and you looked into his eyes before slowly taking a bite. You were Eve and he was the tempting serpent. "Good?" he asked and you nodded, eyes on his lips again as he licked them.

"It's, uh, getting late." You swallowed then licked your lips which got all of his attention.

"Yeah."

"Yeah," you breathed. And just like last time, he was too close. You were too close. Without looking, he placed the bitten apple on the table then closed the space between the two of you in a flash. He tasted of apples and wine and something that was wholly Javier. You should've pulled away, told him to stop, instead you grabbed the collar of his shirt and didn't let go. The kiss was full of unspoken and unresolved emotion, a tension that finally snapped.

He was the first to pull away though it seemed he couldn't stop himself from kissing you after every word he spoke. "You're...drunk...I need to...leave." That was true but did you want him to? He kissed you again while backing you towards the door. "Off limits, remember?" Yet the kissing didn't end.

"But…" you whined as your back hit the door. Your arms were around his shoulders and you pulled him in for another kiss. It's like his lips were made for yours.

He pulled away from you with a frustrated grunt and ran his hands through his hair. You placed a hand over your mouth and slid away from the door without a word.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he asked. You looked down and found a very obvious example of what you did to him. "Every time we end up alone…"

"Sorry," you mumbled. He walked towards you but reached for the door instead.

"Are you really?" he asked, opening the door. "Because I'm not." He leaned over to you and kissed your forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You locked eyes again and he nodded once before walking out. After a moment, you pushed yourself off the wall and went to pick up the apple he had left on the table. You took another bite and listened as he drove away. You could blame the wine for it all, but you knew it wasn't the truth. The apple wasn't your forbidden fruit, Javier was. And you were his.

You can take me to paradise And then again you can be as cold ice I'm over my head Oh but it sure feels nice

You can take me anytime you like I'll be around if you think you might love me baby And hold me tight

Tags: @longitud-de-onda @pascalisthepunkest @misslolasworld @aeryntheofficial @ah-callie @mrsparknuts @loki-098 @huliabitch @thinemineours @flapjacques @opheliaelysia

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Narcos #Pedro Pascal #headcanon

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adore-holland · 4 years

Text

Under Renovation |T.H.| - Chapter 3

Pairing: Tom Holland x Celeb!Reader

Warning: Language and angst

Word Count: 3256

A/N: It has been so long! Omg.. I’m sorry. My mental state plummeted after I posted the last chapter, and it has been really hard to get back to a place where I could write something that wasn’t just extremely depressing. But I’m back! And hopefully to stay. I would love some feedback or just to talk to you guys, see how you’re holding up during all this <3 And if you wanna be tagged, just message me <3

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3:

He looks good. Worse than you expected based on the recent pictures of him, but still; he looks good. A quiet voice in the back of your mind reminds you that he will always look good.

“What.. What are you doing here?”

He shuffles a bit, sticking his hands into his front pockets - a clear sign that he’s uncomfortable.

“I ehm..” You watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down, “I guess I just wanted to see you? See how you’re doing.” He squeezes his eyebrows together, and you notice how messy his curls are. He’s been pacing, running his hands through his hair.

“How long have you been stood out here?” You try, so damn hard, to not let your heart squeeze at the sight of his worried gaze and the chewed up bottom lip.

“I should have known you would catch on to that,” he chuckles sadly, “I don’t know, about 20 minutes I think. Couldn’t really get myself to knock.”

“Do you want to come in for some tea? I mean, Dan’s here, but I wouldn’t be a good brit if I didn’t offer you some,” you smile weakly at him, telling yourself that you’re not offering because you want him there, but just because your mum taught you manners.

He clears his throat, eyes quickly moving down your body before reaching yours again. “Yeah, some tea would be nice.”

You step away from the door to let him in, and begin a slow walk towards your kitchen. The door clicks shut behind Tom and you swallow down the lump in your throat.

“A lot of boxes, huh?” You watch as he glances around at the apartment he once belonged in, and he looks more out of place than you would ever imagine he could.

“Yeah well, a lot is changing.” As soon as the words leave your mouth his eyes dull over and he looks down at the ground and the sight makes you want to run over to him and throw your arms around his neck, chase away all the sadness he is feeling.

But if he wanted you to be the person chasing away his sadness, he wouldn’t have broken up with you. Anger bubbles up in your stomach, but you try to suppress it by quickly walking into the kitchen and filling the kettle with water.

“So, how are you? It’s been strange not hearing from you.” He’s leaning against the kitchen island, looking intently at you, and oh boy do you wanna hurt him. How is it fair that he can be stood here, and act like he didn’t shatter your heart right in this spot only a week ago. You can’t though, you can’t just hurt him, not matter how much you want to.

“I’m just taking things as they come. Moving on.” The last bit comes out involuntarily and you squeeze your eyes shut trying to remind yourself to be civil. If this had been a movie you would have slapped him, that much is for sure.

“Moving on?” Tom has the audacity to sound surprised.

“Yeah well, you have, so why shouldn’t I?” You turn around so you’re leaning on the counter opposite Tom, now face to face. Your hands are beginning to shake ever so slightly, so you steady them on the counter.

“Y/n…”

“I don’t want to hear it Tom,” the kettle signals that it’s done so you quickly pour the water into three mugs, one for Dan as well. Dan has disappeared into your bedroom and you silently thank him for not being here right now. You hand one mug to Tom before walking over to the breakfast bar with your mug nestled in your hands. “Why are you really here Tom?”

You sit down as he stands on the other side. The two of you had been in this position countless times, only those times you would always interrupt each other by leaning over the bar to kiss each other. Times really do change quickly huh?

“I don’t really know. Guess I’m just not used to going so long without seeing you.” He blows on his tea while looking up at you through his lashes. Fuck.

“Should have thought of that before you broke up with me.” You shouldn’t have said that. You really shouldn’t have said that. The tea is scalding hot as you take a sip, trying to chase away all the nasty words on the tip of your tongue.

Tom is just about to open his mouth when Dan yells for you in the other room. You glance at Tom before you dart your way into your bedroom.

“Don’t let the bastard talk you into forgiving him.” You shove him meekly in the arm at his scolding expression before smiling gratefully at him.

“I know besides we’re moving half a world away, don’t worry I’m not stupid.” You don’t fully believe what you’re saying, because you can definitely feel your heart begging you to just wrap Tom up in your arms and never let him go again.

“Anyway, I packed up all the rest of Tom’s stuff, so you can give it to him when he leaves.” Dan smiles at you quickly pointing over his shoulder at the box and bag behind him.

“Thanks Dan.”

When you get back out into the living room you spot Tom sitting at the breakfast bar looking wistfully into his tea, his teeth nibbling on his lower lip. As you walk closer he looks up at you, and his eyes dart between you and his stuff.

“Oh, I ehm.. I haven’t brought you your stuff.” You just smile and nod at him, trying not to think about him being in bed with someone while your stuff is still on the bedside table.

“It’s fine, to be honest, I was just packing it. Didn’t think you wanted to see me, so I was just going to drop by and give it to Nikki.” You grab your tea from beside him and immediately place it down again. Well, this is just getting more and more awkward.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you?” He raises his eyebrow at you slowly getting of the barstool and walking towards you.

“Might have something to do with what you said last time you were here.” You don’t move out of the way, despite him getting closer to you, now standing right in front of you, your breath mingling with his. “You know, how you were too young to be in a relationship that serious and you needed to see other people. Might have something to do with that.”

“Y/n..” He reaches a hand up to your cheek forcing you to look into his eyes. You know it’s crazy that you can be both incredibly in love with him and extremely angry with him all at the same time. It’s like every single nerve in your entire body is burning up, both with passion and rage. He leans in further placing his forehead on yours, eyes burning into yours.

“I’m an idiot, I shouldn’t have left you.” Your breath hitches in your throat at his words.

“Why did you?” It’s barely a whisper, but you’re sure he hears it. His thumb rubs against your cheekbone and you melt into the touch.

Instead of answering he leans in, softly placing his lips on yours, barely even grazing them, but you feel it. The stupid spark that was always there, and the stupid spark you wanted to marry him for. If he felt that spark too why did he ever leave you? Why did he move on so quickly.

The images of him and the blonde girl flash behind your closed eyes, and your nerves finally make up their mind. Your skin is burning and he’s standing there acting like he didn’t cause the fire that has been tearing you apart for a week. Without a thought you push him away and slap him. The sound is immensely satisfying.

“Get out.” You take a couple of steps away from him before looking at him again. “I said get out.”

“I..” He begins.

“No Tom! You can’t expect me to just take you back after you completely broke my heart and found someone else. I will not be your backup plan.” You see the bewildered expression run across his face and it only fuels your anger more. “Just take your stuff and get out.”

“At least let me explain,” he walks towards you again, a little more urgently this time, but you avoid him by going over to shove his stuff towards him.

“You can’t talk your way out of this one, you did what you did, now live with it.”

He nods slowly, before finally grabbing his stuff and walking towards the door. Before he opens the door he turns to look at you once again, and your heart shatters at the broken look in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he doesn’t bother covering up the small crack in his voice, and before you can change your mind you walk over to him, placing one hand on the door knob and the other on his shoulder. Despite your best efforts it’s impossible to be mad at him when he looks like that, so you quickly reach up placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I hope you find someone who makes you happy Tom.” With a small nod, and a last look at you he’s out the door.

:)-(:

The airport isn’t buzzing the way it usually is. There aren’t a lot of people, and the ones that are here are obviously tired and struggling to realize that there is still at least an hour until their plane boards.

You’re sat a small table at the starbucks next to your gate, more focused on the random chatter around you than the hot chocolate you’re nursing in your hands. The last time you were at an airport Tom was right beside you. The two of you had decided on a secret getaway in the two weeks you both had off. At the time, it had felt fun and mischievous to be wearing disguises and pretending to be someone else, now it was just a cold reminder that you were never someone Tom wanted to date publicly. Maybe that was a sign that he wanted to end it?

No. It couldn’t have been, because that trip was the best trip you had ever been on, and the amount of butterflies you get in your stomach when you look at the crazy amount of pictures is proof of that. Also, you had never brought up going public either.

You miss him. There’s a voice in the back of your mind screaming that you shouldn’t, but then there’s another telling you that’s it’s okay. The confusion of that simple feeling, the missing him, feels like a punch in the stomach. You’re doubled over, not being able to breath because he left you, but no one can help you, ‘cause it’s all happening in your mind.

“You know, it’s normal to be conflicted about this stuff.” Dan’s voice is just as loud as it needs to be. He doesn’t reach for your hand this time, somehow he knows you just need your own space. “I mean.. When Jacob broke up with me I missed him and hated him at the same time. It’s normal to both want him back and never want to see him again, just give yourself some time y/n.”

“I don’t want time though. I just don’t want to think about him anymore.” You let go of your hot chocolate to remove your cap before running a frustrated hand through your hair. Before Tom had showed up you had been so certain that moving away was the best option, but that stupid annoying look of uncertainty he had when he left…

With a low sigh you turn around to look at the big information screens, only to be met with the sight of a group of girls all looking at you giggling and pointing at you. You muster up the best smile you can before turning back to Dan.

“I just need to start over and forget about him,” it sounds so simple when you say it like that. If only.

“Just remember that it’s okay to miss him, even if you don’t want to. Allow yourself to grieve your loss y/n.” You’re so eternally grateful for your career in that minute, because just as you feel like you’re about to burst into tears, the group of girls come over to ask for a picture. It’s a strange sensation though - acting happy when your head is clouded with rain clouds, but you do it anyway, thanking your acting classes in the process.

:)-(:

The house Matt has rented for you and Dan is nothing less than perfect. You’re lounging in one of the loungers along the edge of your pool as Dan walks around the decently sized house, still running out to scream in excitement at you once in a while. If it wasn’t for the pure exhaustion from the events of the last week and a half alone, you would be right there with him. But for now, just laying in the lounger, looking up at the beautiful white old style house, and then out at the stunning view from Hollywood Hills, is more than enough.

You haven’t unpacked yet, and you don’t exactly know why - perhaps it just hasn’t completely sunk in that you’re starting over. You had been in the states for only half a week, yet it feels like it has been a lifetime since you have last seen Tom. Despite your efforts, you can’t figure out if that was a good or bad thing.

Tonight is the night that you are finally going to meet everyone for the upcoming film. You are especially excited to see Mena, for multiple reasons. Mostly because the two of you haven’t done a chemistry test yet, which is the first thing on the agenda tonight, and also because you really admire his previous work.

Grabbing your book and sunglasses from beside you, you get up and walk through the impeccably designed living room, up the stairs and into the master suite. You had vehemently offered it to Dan, but he refused to take it - “You’re the star here, you deserve this room.” He is such an idiot.

Jumping in the shower, you try not to let your mind wander, but as has been custom lately, it doesn’t work. You haven’t heard from Tom, and everytime you think about him, the regretful look in his eyes from the last time you saw him surfaces in your mind. You can’t help it; you still miss him. The first night you got to LA, you fell asleep on top of your covers in the orange hoodie you brought with you. It is hanging in the back of your way too big closet, and it still smells like him. Fortunately Dan hadn’t caught you in it.

Dan had made you delete the hearts from Tom’s name in your phone, and had also taken it upon himself to go through all your followed tags on the different social media’s in order to stop following those with Tom in them. While you were grateful that he was trying to help you, it felt kind of restricting that you weren’t allowed to do that in your own time.

As you get out of the shower, you wrap yourself in a fluffy white towel and walk towards your closet. Matt had hired you a stylist, who made the big closet feel almost too small. Shuffling over to the dresses, you pick out a nude tight dress, that you can already tell will hug your body in just the right ways, and slip into it along with some underwear. Putting on your ‘Getting ready’-playlist you quickly dry your hair and do your makeup before picking out some stunning nude heels. While it is partly a chemistry test, the party afterwards is supposed to be a banger. There’s already been opened a group chat, and from what you understand Mena and some of the others are planning on introducing you to the best clubs in the area, so you might as well dress up for the occasion. Besides, it’s been a while since you let yourself have fun.

As you step in front of the mirror, you can’t help the smile on your face. Even you can see that you look incredibly good. Your sun-kissed skin is glowing, the bags under your eyes are gone, the frizz in your hair with it. There’s light in your eyes and you generally feel pretty amazing. Tom would have loved you in this getup, although he would probably want you out of it as soon as possible.

Stop.

Apparently old habits really do die hard.

With a sigh you find a clutch that goes with your outfit and pack all the essentials. Phone, keys, ID - all the fun boring stuff. On your way out you catch Dan opening and closing the fridge, and you chuckle at the look of his dumbfounded face as the light switches on and off.

“I swear to god y/n, the fridge talked to me be… Woah” he removes his eyes from the fridge to look at you instead, and a massive grin spreads on his face.

“I was about to say that this house makes me feel like a kid, but damn.. You look way too good to be a kid.” He beams as he walks towards you and places a kiss on the top of your head. He pulls you in for a hug, nustling you into the crook of his neck. “Please have fun tonight - you deserve to have fun.”

He quickly places another kiss on the top of your head before he pushes you out of the big glass door and goes back to his fridge.

A driver stands in front of a casual black rover with a charming smile on his face. You would have driven yourself, but Dan refused to let you come home sober tonight. “That’s not the young, hot, hollywood actress spirit.” He’s absolutely bonkers, but that’s exactly why you love him.

The cool air from the ac makes the hairs on your arms stand up. A week here, and you’re already sure you would become an Icepick if you went back home to London. Hollywood hills flows by outside the windows, slowly turning into the city and then various studios. The driver helps you out of the car when you reach the lot, where Matt is stood, waiting for you in a crispy black button up.

“Now, who do you have to thank for such an amazing outfit?” He smirks as you walk over and link your arm with his.

“Oh, definitely not you.” You stick out your tongue at him, laughing softly when he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Remind me to find you a new manager.. maybe a rookie.” He places his fingers on his chin, stroking a make-belief beard as you head into a large building.

“Like you could ever live without me.” You lean up and kiss him on the cheek, before he laughs and pulls you into a big room filled to the brim with people. This is your life for the next few months, and to be honest? You can’t wait.

Taglist:

@spider-manholland @cinna-minseok @sincereleygmg @trumpettay @paradisiacalsparks

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #Tom Holland Fan Fiction #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #under renovation #tom holland angst

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makoto-nanami · 4 years

Text

Miraculous Rewrite: Origins Part 2 (Chapter 4)

Heyo, sorry for not updating... I’ve been working on uni prep, setting up a games documentation takes more time than you’d think... and I keep forgetting how long it takes me... Well, Alice finally runs into Adrien, gives him a rundown oh how things will work and makes it clear that she won’t put up with any misuse. There’s also Chloe... Chloe. Enjoy! Tagged - @blue-peach14

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After staying the night at Fu’s; apparently, he wanted to make sure I had all my paperwork and belongings sorted before I moved to Eva’s French dollhouse… I really hope it’s not like that… anything but that… I turned on the small tv and watched the news. The reporter from yesterday was updating the rest of Paris on the stone creatures that stood still around the city.

“The stone beings are scattered all over Paris, and for the time being, they seem to be showing no signs of movement. Police have cordoned off the areas around these beings.”

The screen switches to the mayor and the police officer from yesterday, he must oversee the Akuma cases. The mayor speaks, attempting to put on a brave face, however, he was glancing at the officer in fear and confusion, he has no clue on how to deal with this.

“We won’t stop until we find a way to get these people back to their normal selves, but for now, we’re not making much headway.”

The camera footage flips back to the reporter who stands next to a photo that worries me to no end, Ladybug and Chat Noir…

“Paris is relying on our new guardian angels, Ladybug and Chat Noir, to save us all. Our lives depend on them.”

Fu walks in from the other room, Wayzz following him. He looks at me, his eyes full of worry.

“Are you okay, Alice? You look unwell, are you perhaps worried for our young heroes?” I didn’t even realise I was clutching the tv remote so tightly that the plastic was bending, when did I…

“That’s just it, isn’t it Fu? They’re young. They messed up, and now they’re afraid of doing it again. Or at least that’s how Marinette feels, I have no clue about Adrien Agreste. I did my research, the only time he’s seen in public is at photoshoots. How exactly did you want me to help and watch a famous model with a bodyguard and strict schedule when I can’t even get close to him?”

“The boy needed freedom and has a pure heart; he was the perfect fit to Plagg at the time. As for young Marinette, I am sure she will pull though, she has a strong heart, she –“

I stand up and grab my bag. He looks at me, still worried but confident in his words. “Fu, how am I supposed to help them, watch them, guide them, if I can’t talk to them or explain why we threw them in the deep-end? I hope you’re right about them, cause while I agree they will be fine heroes, I can’t agree with the current path they’ll travel alone, I guess we’ll have to hope for some miracles.” I take an apple and grab my jacket and stuffing both into my backpack. “I better get to school before I’m late.” Fu chuckles at that.

“From what Evangeline has told me, you are not the most punctual person.” I frown at the accusation, I mean… not wrong but still. I wave him off and start jogging to Dupont.

As I make my way through the streets, I’m quite literally sent flying by a blond boy, damn moron, watch where you’re going! I grumble gathering my bearings and direct my glare at this oblivious idiot. He has blond pristine styled hair and soft green eyes, freaking out and apologising profusely… wait… I know that face…

“You’re Adrien Agreste.” The boy paled and started looking around before putting on a tight smile.

“Ermm… I think you’ve got the wrong guy miss, Adrien who. Never heard of him. Heh…Heh…” He laughs weakly, I roll my eyes at him.

“Oh, maybe I should call you Chat Noir then?” His face filled with fear. “Right Plagg?”

A blur of black whizzed out of the kids’ pocket and it’s green cat eyes stared at me, wonder, confusion, but finally acceptance. Plagg floated up to my face, mischief evident on the tiny god of destruction’s own. “So, you’re the old fart’s new vessel, huh?”

“Apparently, though he can go and find another body to take over for all I care, I’m me, not him. Understand that, and we’ll get along, right?” Plagg looked a little shocked but gave me a sly grin.

“I got it, you’re a lot more fun than the last few! The kid’s lucky!” Ironic coming from the embodiment of misfortune. Adrien then decided he had had enough with being left out of the conversation, and spoke up, his voice cracking slightly, prolly confused.

“Ermm… just who are you? And… how do you know who I… I mean you know?” Plagg butted in before I could open my mouth.

“This kid is the one who watches over the Miraculous like yours and Bug-Girl’s. She’ll make sure that if you do anything stupid, you’ll know about it.” He still looked lost.

“I’m an observer. I watch how you’ll use the Miraculous; use it wisely, then you keep being the wielder of the cat for as long as you are needed. Of course, you misuse it and I will take it away or punish you.”

“P-punish?”

“I realise you are just a kid, a kid with too much responsibility, I get that. However, if you are to misuse this power, people can get hurt, and that will have consequences. I’ll understand any rashness and mistakes, such as this Akuma, but any intentional misuse or repeated actions that you refuse to own up to, I will make sure you understand the weight of your choices. Understood?”

He nodded, still a little worried, but it’ll have to do. I sigh. “Hey, Agreste. You don’t need to worry. Seriously, you may not be able to tell anyone about your double life, sometimes it’ll feel like the world is suffocating you… I know the feeling, but that’s why I’ve decided to reveal myself to both of you. To help you through this. If you want to talk, if you need help, just ask and I’ll try. HOWEVER, I will say after I researched you, I will say this right now, I won’t accept the excuse of your sheltered life being the cause of any misunderstandings, you feel confused about anything that most would think is normal, you ask me or any friends you make at school, got it, I’m not gonna baby you, this is high school son, grow a pair!”

He stares at me completely shocked at my words, before quickly nodding again. I laugh at his quick nod and he starts chuckling too, before looking at his phone and alarm spread across him. “I’m going to be late!” Oh right… school.

“You’re such a strange kid. Who would want to be at school when he can stay at home all day?” Plagg darts back to his pocket peeking his head out, rolling his own eyes. We start jogging to school.

“You don’t get it, Plagg. I’ve had enough of being locked up at home by my father. I want to meet people, make friends.” He looks at me with a hopeful smile. “Learn about normal things! Go to a normal school like everyone else!” I roll my eyes at that, that place is far from normal.

“Arghhh… Uhhh, I think I’m feeling weak…” Plagg dramatically groans. Adrien stops running grabbing his bag, searching for something.

“You know what’s strange?” He pulls out a wedge of cheese that smelt horrible. Oh yeah… Plagg eats the stuff… poor kid’s gonna stink. “The fact that all you eat is this disgusting, rotten smelling camembert cheese, and I then have to smell like it 24/7. That’s strange.” He looks at me as if pleading for me to convince the tiny cat to eat something else. I shrug, you’re on your own for this one kid. He groans and glares at Plagg in disgust, but the god just stuffs his mouth with the cheese.

“If you want to be able to transform into a superhero, then stinky cheese is the deal, my friend!�� Adrien sighs in defeat before continuing our jog to school.

We make it to the school’s steps, but we hear a beep from a car behind us. A tall, professional-looking woman leaves a nice-looking car and quickly paces towards Adrien. I recognise her from my research about the young cat holder, she’s Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste's assistant who manages his fashion work, his mansion, and takes care of his son Adrien. She must be here to take him back home… speaking of which, how the heck did Adrien enrol in the first place without a parent’s permission? As I’m about to grab the kid and get him to class, I feel the same dark feeling as yesterday, briefly, fleeting but just as dark.

“Adrien! Don’t do this! Your father will be furious!”

“Tell him you got here too late. Please!” Adrien turns around and runs into the school, I follow quickly after him and see Alya arguing with Chloe.

“How could you say that to Ivan? You’re the real Stoneheart!” Stoneheart? That must be what people are calling Ivan’s Akuma form.

“Ugh, so I’m the one who broke Sabrina’s dad’s arm, am I?” Fair, but still wrong, it’s not Ivan’s fault either. Also… Sabrina’s dad is the officer in charge of the Akuma cases… my belief in the Parisian police force is dwindling, this is why I want to be a P.I. Chloe the scoffs at the new girl and glares. “Just because your footage of those lame superheroes was shown on tv, doesn’t mean you have to get so high and mighty.” She blows her bubble gum at Alya popping it close to her face, luckily not sticking but I cringed at it and walk up Alya.

“You little…” Alya growled, about to retaliate before I stepped in.

“Ew… gross, Chloe that was so gross, you basically spat in her face, actually, I think you have a little spit on your glasses there Alya.” I say, however luckily there wasn’t anything on the glasses but Alya cringed at the thought, taking off her glasses and furiously wiping them, muttering how gross can anyone be. The glares and undecided look of the people around them all turned to barely hidden disgust at Chloe who was turning red and glared daggers at me. Alya after cleaning her already clean glasses huffed and walks off to the classroom. Chloe attempting to regain control taunted the girl.

“Lookout, she’s angry! She’s going to split the underwear and turn into a huge muscly monster!” She laughs obnoxiously.

“I’d be angry too; I mean what you did was kinda disgusting.” She spins back to me about to blow up at me, however, her face instantly lights up as she looks over my head.

“Hey, Chloe!” Adrien pipes up… oh no… I forgot… they’re friends. Chloe pushes past me and glomps the naive kid.

“Adrikins! You came!” Adrikins… oh, gods… I cringe at the two, Adrien noticing my face and his confusion is clear… did he just ignore all she did just now? Before I can call him out Chloe drags him to the classroom and the other students recognise the famous model and start rushing over. I slump in defeat and make my way to class.

Everyone is clamouring for Adrien’s autograph, and for once Chloe does something remotely good, albeit with less than pure intentions and makes a path to the classroom causing the fans to go back to their own classes. “Okay. This is your seat, Adrikins. I saved it for you. Right in front of me!”

“That’s creepy.” I blurt out, and Chloe growls at me.

“Well, no one cares what you think, Wattson!” Adrien glances at me in worry and unsure at who to support. I walk past him patting his shoulder.

“Get new friends, kid.” I say solemnly to him. His eyes widen at this but he turns to Chloe with a tight smile.

“Thanks, Chloe.” He turns to the Nino guy and tries to introduce himself othering him a handshake, but Nino just looks at him with distrust and ignores the hand. “Uh… Hey! Adrien.” The boy shows a model smile laced with nerves, but Nino didn’t react.

“You’re friends with Chloe then, huh?” He turns back to his phone. Hopefully, he’ll get the message.

I’m about to continue walking to my seat but I hear snide laughing coming from the front bench, obviously coming from Chloe and her lapdog Sabrina, I turn and see them sticking the gum that had recently been in Chloe’s mouth onto Marinette’s seat. Anger washing over me. “Hey! What the hell is your problem Bourgeois?!” Adrien turns around and spots what I’m yelling about.

“Hey! Chloe! What’s that all about?” He looks disappointed in her.

“The brat’s that sat here yesterday need a little attitude adjustment. I’m just commanding a bit of respect, that’s all.”

“No, if anyone here needs an attitude adjustment, it’s you! I thought you were gross, but this is just disgusting.”

“I am not disgusting!” She screams in my face, I pull out my phone and hit the emergency record button, I’d use during Eva’s interviews with her problematic clients. “You think you’re some sort of hero, I’ll get you kicked out of school, or maybe I’ll just tell my daddy to rethink your student visa.” I smile at her and she shrinks back. Adrien then interrupts sensing the danger this could lead to.

“Chloe, you think that’s really necessary?” I raise an eyebrow at that, it’s completely insane, but he’s still trying to keep his friendship with the girl. But said girl just scoffs at him, turning back with a hair flip and batting her eyes.

“Ah, you’ve got a lot to learn about school culture, Adrikins. Watch the master.”

Adrien then kneels down to Marinette’s seat, trying to pick the gum up with his pencil, only making it worse. I grab his arm trying to stop him from making it worse, till I hear a gasp. Great.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing!?”

This day just keeps getting worse.

#miraculous ladybug #ml rewrite #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #ml plagg #oc #no beta read #adrien salt #chloe salt

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dragonpigeons · 4 years

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Roommates Part 2

Tags/warnings: Deku x Reader, Deku x Self-insert, Slowburn, SFW, Aged-Up Characters, Roommates AU, Pro Hero Deku, Deku thirst. Other characters to be added in future parts including OCs.

Summary: Riida gets an idea over Deku’s eating habits. Also pizza. Word count: 1959

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read Part 1 :) Here’s Part 2, enjoy! Part 3 is out on my Patreon 🎉

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Your room was your haven to be free to express yourself. And by expressing yourself that really meant expressing your love for Deku in every corner possible. You had a shelf full of his figurines. The walls were covered in his posters. Your bed covers had his face on. Your deku hug pillow took up one half of your bed along with all the chibi Deku cushions and plushies. And, of course, you had a few Deku hoodies, sweaters, scarves and socks in the closet, not to mention all the Deku charms adorning your Deku bag. You even had a pair of Deku undies stuffed in the back of your drawer which your friends jokingly gifted you for your birthday and which you deliberately chose to forget about.

In short, you were a massive fan of the pro hero. Your love for him extended into the online world where you were a top member of his fanclub and often enjoyed seeing any news about him. The fanclub was the reason for your private collection of images and videos of him in your hard drive and phone. You were often teased for your Deku passion but you didn't really care. What you felt for him was simply admiration as a fan.

So then why, for the past few days, have you been so nervous, and why, on this morning, were you hiding around the corner from where Deku was doing his morning workout?

The answer was this - he was topless yet again but this time he was doing handstand press ups. When you came to the doorway, you were met with a full frontal assault of his back, rippling with glorious muscles. It took everything in you not to scream.

So you dove round the corner to gather yourself, feeling like some higher being was testing you. Your entire face was burning, your chest was palpitating. You never thought in a million years that you would become this way around your favourite hero. Sure, you had imagined meeting him at a signing event or something, but those were very casual and very quick to get it done and over with. There wouldn't be time to feel anything other than a short burst of joy at meeting your idol. Not to mention he'd be fully clothed too and not half as hormone-inducing.

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down before emerging into the kitchen.

"Hey," Deku's eyes lit up when he noticed you, pausing his workout for a moment, "I put the kettle on just before so it should still be hot."

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

You ate your breakfast in silence purposely avoiding Deku's sweaty physique, lest you risk giving yourself heart palpitations. He was very dedicated to the cause though. You wondered about his morning habits.

"How early do you get up to do your workout?" you decided to ask him.

"Pretty early!" said Deku, perking up at being asked a question by you. "Around 5am? Sometimes 5.30 if I want a bit of a lie in."

You raised your eyebrows. You couldn't help but be impressed. "Do you work out everyday?"

"Yeah. Except Sundays. They're my days off. It's bad to overwork your body. But I like doing them because it clears my mind for the day ahead."

"I see. Being a pro hero must be quite stressful."

"Not more than any other job, I imagine."

You had your doubts that a pro hero went through the same stresses as someone with an office job but you let it slide.

"What made you choose to live here?" you asked.

"Simple, really. One, I like the space where I can do my daily workouts. And two, it's in a secluded location where I can afford to get some privacy.”

You found you agreed with his reasonings. The apartment was very spacious given the okay price of the rent and it was out-of-the-way from more popular areas. You personally liked it because it meant quiet nights and humble surroundings.

“Oh, by the way,” continued Deku, “don't tell anyone I live here. The landlady knows and she's signed a confidentiality contract. So yeah, if you were thinking of bringing a boyfriend over or-- just let me know and I’ll stay out of the way."

"I don't have a boyfriend," you corrected him.

"Really?? But, you're so pretty. I thought you would have one for sure."

You almost spat out your food, suddenly hit by that bombshell out of nowhere. It was fortunate Deku had his back to you. Your face was burning red hot and there was no way you could face him at the moment. You decided to steer the conversation another way, clearing your throat, "Would I need to sign a confidentiality contract too?"

"Huh? Oh, er, maybe. I'll talk to my agent about it."

Deku finished his reps and hit the shower.

And you went to work with your face almost permanently red for the whole day any time you thought about his pretty compliment. And you thought about it pretty often.

---

Deku installed a pull-up bar the next morning. He had a black sleeveless top on this time but that did nothing to detract from his bulging arms. Furthermore, he looked good in black. Not that you hadn't seen pictures of him in black before, but combined with pull-ups and it was a knockout sight.

You stuttered as you greeted him good morning.

"Good morning!" Deku greeted back jovially. "What's for breakfast today?"

"Toast. And jam," you replied, deliberately opening your fridge.

"And drink?"

"Just a glass of milk."

"You're always so healthy in your meals," appraised Deku warmly.

"I try," you shrugged, "but sometimes I can't resist a ramen cup or a pizza takeout."

"I get you," said Deku, in a way that was like he was proverbially nodding his head, "nothing like a good pizza to satisfy a craving."

You were spreading jam on your toast when Deku suddenly said, "Hey, I know - let's have pizza tonight!"

"P-pizza?"

"I've been craving it lately and then you happened to mention it. Perfect timing, right? How about it?"

And that was how you ended up sharing two large pizzas with the No.1 Hero several hours later after he got back from work. He even went the extra mile and got dessert and cola too.

You enjoyed your pizza, savouring the taste. Next to you, it seemed Deku was enjoying a whole lot more, cramming it all into his mouth like no tomorrow.

"This is so good," said Deku with his mouth full.

"Mm, yes," you agreed, finishing a slice.

"I haven't eaten since 10."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Deku wolfed down two slices in one go. "Was busy with a train incident."

You recalled seeing on the news how a villain group boarded a running freight train, wanting to take the cargo for themselves. Deku managed to stop the group in their tracks with the help of a few pro heroes. The whole thing caused a mess for many passenger trains though and services became delayed. Deku and the other heroes had to sort out the chaos working together with the authorities.

You stared at Deku, asking out of concern, "Do you often skip lunch?"

"I mean, yeah. I'm pretty busy with stuff. It's not just the patrol stuff, there's also all the paperwork and side gigs too. But that's why I like to go all out when it comes to dinner--" He finished his entire 18" diameter pizza by himself in five minutes flat. You watched as he downed a two-litre bottle of cola in one sitting too. A trail escaped from the corner of his mouth and slid down his throat, bobbing over his adam's apple. You quickly turned back to your pizza feeling warm all of a sudden. It was probably the jalapenos, you told yourself.

"Hey, do you mind if I have an extra slice?" Deku eyed your pizza box which was still two-thirds full.

"Sure, have as many as you want. I won't be able to eat all that anyway."

"Really?? Thanks so much!"

Deku gorged himself generously on your leftovers. You had to wonder, if he was skipping meals, was he really holding up the best he can? "It seems bad that you're skipping meals as a pro hero, to be honest," you admitted out loud.

Deku nodded somberly, "I know but I can't turn my back on those who need help to go and fill my stomach.”

You personally disagreed with the pro hero. No job was worth risking your own health, even one as well spotlit as his. You were sure other fans would agree, some even commenting their observations on how Deku was looking on the thinner side lately. A little idea started to form in your head which you would check out the next day.

---

The Deku Fanclub forums were lively as usual this evening with all the banter and discussions surrounding the hero himself. There were some truly diehard fans, bordering on obsessive stalker-ness, who provided endless entertainment and 'exclusive' pictures of the green-haired man out and about. Sometimes they got him on his way to the gym. Sometimes he was caught in action. Sometimes it was a shot focusing heavily on his butt. And that wasn't even the worst of it, but you were there for something else.

You clicked on one thread which caught your eye. It was about Deku's eating habits. Many theorised and agreed that he was eating at least three meals a day and snacking on lots of fruits and protein bars in between. One Deku Diehard (it was its own label for the extremely dedicated Deku fan), however, put together an entire hypothetical itinerary of Deku's schedule for the past several days and proposed that he wasn't getting the recommended three meals a day because there simply wasn't time.

You found a reply to this comment that talked about what Deku should be eating in order to attain, and maintain, his good form. Lots of talk about protein and carbs. A chicken breast here, a salmon fillet there, a scattering of beans throughout, and some tasty meal plans. You bookmarked the meal plans.

That evening you cooked too much for lunch, enough for two people. The next morning you took out the extra portion and sat it on the counter, mentally rehearsing what you were going to say as Deku worked out in front of you. This time he was doing one-armed pull-ups, which wasn’t entirely helping your cause to pass this off casually but you had to remain focused.

"Um, Deku," you uttered nervously. "Last night I made too much food for myself, and I was wondering… W-would you like the extra portion? Not that you have to accept or anything--"

Deku dropped from the bar and said, "Really, you would give me your extra food??"

He leapt over to the counter in excitement, picking up the container. "Chicken and potatoes. No wonder it smelt so good in the kitchen last night!" He grinned widely, then with a knowing look, "It's because I said I skipped lunch yesterday, isn't it?"

"Um, well…"

You were seen right through by Deku. You didn’t think he would remember but here he was, smiling at you, eyes crinkling in gratitude. "You didn't have to do that for me. I really appreciate it though. This way I won't skip a meal. I can't let your hard work go to waste so I promise to finish every last bit!"

You gave a shaky smile back, hoping it wouldn’t taste too terrible to him. You were not the greatest cook but you at least wanted to try your best for the hero you admire.

====

A/N: A longer part this time but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know in the comments your thoughts :D

#dragonpigeonswrites #roommates fic #deku x reader #deku x riida #deku x self insert #also sorry i was menna post this yesterday but got distracted #man i would love to share a pizza with deku huhu #also omg i WISH my room was like riida's #i need every deku merch covering every inch of my room possible #this part is less thirsty than part 1 but i hope it's still enjoyable!#edit: waaaaah i forgot the keep reading thing. i stuck it in!#sorry for the long wall text if you saw it slketjskts

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katsukiboom · 4 years

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Dead Men Dreams - 1: Fateful

Here’s the 1st chapter of the Bakugou fic my dudes! I hope you all enjoy it!

Just as a heads-up, the chapters won’t have this little A/N every time, just in case I need to let you all know anything about the fic. Other than that, it will be the links at the top, the story and the tags at the end. <3

Ko-Fi || Commissions || Fiverr

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You looked up to the sky, a cloudless testament of the beauty the world around you still had to offer, and took a sip out of the last bottle of beer you had been able to save. You would miss it for as long it could take you to find another one, but with your wavering luck you weren’t at all sure when that would be. Getting up, you stretched your arms and looked at the horizon while fixing your dirty clothes - when had it been the last time you felt peaceful enough to spend a few minutes of your time just relaxing? You couldn’t remember, and the pressure of time was putting more and more weight on your back, so much that you started feeling the physical repercussions in no time.

The city below the building you were in was all but in ruins: abandoned cars all over the streets, broken glass, and walls that had been torn down in an attempt to escape from the horrors that were now tormenting the planet. It had all started two months ago; you were at work when you heard the news of strange activities coming from the countryside of Japan and that were spreading quickly among the nearby cities, and before you could even imagine it there were herds upon herds of undead attacking everything on their way. In a quick press conference that would pass as the last one for the time being the government had promised it would only take some days for them all to die out thanks to decomposing, but the citizens should’ve known better than to blindly follow their words. The whole country had to be quarantined, and news from the outside world was a rare thing nowadays.

You had been alone ever since the first breakout, barely having had luck to go back home to take shelter and remain there, despite the constant alert that every citizen had to evacuate the place – you trusted nobody, and maybe you had been right to do just that. It had been there that you had received the last information about your surroundings through the TV, just a brief snippet of what would come next, and the images surprised you beyond belief: dead people covered the streets, blood everywhere along with pieces of bodies you did not want to remember, all kinds of bodily fluids sprayed along whatever you could see, and the pain and incessant worry that tainted the atmosphere around. It was as if it was the end of the world, and for all you knew it was.

Waiting a few days to get ready and to start trying to make your way towards salvation, you pulled back from it when you heard a vehicle approaching your area - it was a military vehicle of some sort, and it seemed to be patrolling the area with two armed men remaining on guard. You let out a sigh of relief and were about to come out to go to them when, through your bedroom window, you saw two other survivors that had been hiding as well ran to them waving their arms above their heads, only getting to let out a loud shout as they were shot various times across the chest and head. “Everything that moves, huh?” you heard the soldiers say, horrified at the scene unfolding as the two men kicked the remains out of their way. “I guess we have to deal with this kind of stuff now. It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”

After that, you determined that going outside your apartment wasn’t the best idea, and using your hearing you were able to calculate the patrolling times so you could avoid any kind of trouble. Nightmares came shortly after, waking you up in the middle of the night as you thought you heard something inside your apartment. It took three more weeks for all services to be cut and you were left to your own devices to get food and light, often going to bed feeling cold and dirty. You only talked to yourself only praying for your family and friends, that wherever they were they were alright too; despite your parents being out of the country for work, you knew that the disease had spread towards various other places, but you weren’t really sure of the reach it had.

It wasn’t until, days later, you felt dizzy enough thanks to the lack of food that you actually decided to go outside again, careful enough not to deal with any of the Greens, as you started to call them as some sort of codename. The environment was quiet but you were awfully careful, only the sounds of distant birds filling the empty space. It was a sunny day but your mood was far too gloomy for you to really enjoy it, and the sun seemed to burn your skin more than you remember – the trees were greener too, and you wondered if it had something to do with most of humanity having turned into something self-destructive rather than destroying nature.

The very first thing that crossed your mind was to check the nearby apartments with your handy backpack to see if you could get anything; if you remembered horror movies correctly, the zombies’ only weak point would be the head, and so you armed yourself with a heavy kitchen hammer in case you needed to use it. Managing to get two big water bottles, a big frozen piece of meat and a few apples after checking three other homes, you were ready to go back to your own place when you heard steps outside the entrance door.

Mentally cussing at yourself for having left the safety of your apartment, you tiptoed until you were beside the wooden door, opening it just enough to take a look at whatever was on the other side – you saw nothing for a moment, but when a shadow suddenly appeared in your field of view you let out a yelp, which caused the creature to turn around and remain still for a minute before it came charging towards the door. You moved away just in time to avoid getting trampled but it didn’t stop the creature from entering, and when it was finally in the room with you, you were able to see it fully, adrenaline running through your system.

The skin was mostly yellow with green patches covering the injuries the body had sustained, and dried blood and what you thought were innards hung from the tattered clothes, moving from side to side as it looked for its prey. The head had little to no hair, and it shined a bit when the daylight hit it. When it turned around you had to cover your mouth to avoid throwing up; its lips were completely gone, having been torn away by force, and it gave the creature a near-demonic appearance with decaying teeth, some of those already missing, and the eyes looked completely white except for a tiny black spot that you thought worked as the pupil. Saliva mixed with a bit of foam came out of its mouth along with unintelligible noises and grunts and all you could do was stare at it, hoping that it wouldn’t be the last thing you saw before dying.

As you took a deep breath, the smell of dead flesh reached you and involuntarily entered your mouth, and it became even harder to contain the vomit inside. Being as quick as you could, you got up and closed the door behind you, trapping the creature inside as you let all of your stomach’s content come out, the noise alone making you feel even more nauseous. With weak legs you backed away from the apartment, hearing it struggling to find a way out, and you leaned against a wall just in time to hear the wood cracking.

Your eyes widened and you froze in place again, taking the little hammer out of your belt with shaky hands but it slipped to the ground with a loud thud that only served to work the creature up even more. It started banging and scratching, and soon enough it was visible again through a hole, gazing straight at you and sending chills down your spine. You felt yourself tearing up as you grabbed the utensil again, holding it against your chest as it emerged from the apartment and fell on its face only to get up and run to you… and then you heard a gunshot, the creature letting out one last cry as its brains came out through one side of its head and it fell once more, right in front of you.

Tears started falling down your cheeks as you stared at its lifeless form, somehow looking more human than possible in that state, and it took you longer than it should’ve to hear the masculine voice calling out to you from one of the stairwells – you turned around while realizing you had been holding your breath and the weight of the situation fell on your shoulders as you stared at the stranger.

“Oi, you idiot, what are you standing there for? Do you want to die so badly?”

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Tags: @add-a-teaspoon-of-heroism - @bubbzibubbles

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miraclealignersv · 5 years

Text

Forever home (Babe Heffron x Reader)

Ask: Hey there can I request a fic for Babe in which he and the reader move into a new house together and just end up laying on the floor talking about their future. I don't know if that makes sense

A/n: I really did try my best! Hope you enjoy love! (If you’ve watched the third season of Wynonna Earp you’ll catch a line from the show lol)

Tag list: @gottapenny @wexhappyxfew @bandofmarvels @medievalfangirl

The second both Y/n and Babe recieved the key to their new home y/n couldnt stop smiling the whole drive there. The first time they stepped foot into the cozy home he promised her that it would be their forever home. The second he said that, y/n fell in love with him all over again. As they pulled into the driveway of their new cozy home a smile spread on her lips before stepping out, smiling at the thought of their "forever home".

However that happiness turned into both exhaustion and irritation after two hours of moving in boxes and furniture into their home. The worst of all was the fact that Babe forgot to to call some of the boys to help, resulting in y/n and babe trying to get their couch through the front door of their new home.

"C'mon baby, were almost there'' Babe encourganged, his voice strained as he pulled on one corner. Y/n stayed quiet and continued to push the heavy couch, mentally cursing herself for choosing the heavy maroon sofa instead of the grey one. "C'mon baby, push with your legs"

"Shut up with your mouth'' she unintentionally muttured as she continued to push, she hated the fact that five years before she was running currahee, and she jumped out of a plane with 80 pounds strapped onto her. Babe only chuckled at her response and continued to pull, with a final shove the couch made it through the doorway. Y/n heard the clapping of Babe's hands before letting out a small cheer.

"We did it!'' he cheered. y/n only folded over and sighing in relief. She walked past the couch that was still in the doorway and pushed past Edward who watched her sit on the hardwood floor of their living room.

“I’m so tired,” she sighed as she laid her back on the cold and dusty hardwood floor. Edward only raised his eyebrow in question as she closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. “I can’t believe I fought in a war, physically carried wounded men and I couldn’t even get a couch into the damn house” She ranted her eyes still closed as her hands rested on her stomach. Babe chuckled and walked towards her, looking at her for a second before joining her.

He brought her closer to him, she gladly cuddled into him. They still had other things to bring in, whether forecast said there was a chance of rain, so they had to continue. But it felt nice, laying there with him in the living room of their new home.

“Its a pretty heavy couch,” he reasoned y/n only groaned again before burring her face in her hands.

“I hate myself for buying that damn couch” she spoke, Edward only chuckled and held her tighter to his side.

“Change Of subject, you look pretty darn hot in those overalls,” Ed cheekily chuckled, y/n rolled her eyes playfully before trying to sit back up. Edward pulling her back down towards him and grabbing her hand.

“We gotta get the rest of the things,” she protested, but he only held onto her tighter. She sighed and defeat and gave into the embrace while he played with her wedding band.

“You wanna know why I liked this house?” He asked, y/n furrowed her brows and thought of something.

“The tile?”

“What? No- well yeah the tile is pretty nice— that’s not why” y/n chuckled at the rambling and watched as he continued to play with the ring on her finger. “I didn’t like it, not at first. You fell in love with it, everything from the floors and the kitchen and the French doors closet in the master bedroom.” Y/n hummed at the thought of their home after they finished decorating it. How she would bake Apple pies in that gorgeous kitchen, and eat dinner everyday with the love of her life in the spacious dinning room. The paintings and little frames that would hang in the hallways.

“But then that night, I had a dream about a kid running around in the backyard with a dog chasing after him” he smiled at the vivid dream, y/n felt a smile tug at her lips. They hadn’t been married for long, but they sure had been together for what seemed ever. She’d be lying if she said she never thought about a family with Edward.

“Him?” She asked, Edward chuckled and looked down at his loving wife before nodding.

“Uh huh, and it was here, in our forever home.” He finished before placing a kiss on her forehead. She felt her heart flutter at the vivid dream he had, y/n smiled again and hummed in content as he pulled his lips away from her forehead. “I guess we get a dog now” he spoke, y/n shook her head and tried sitting up.

“Well do that next, but we gotta get the rest of the stuff inside first before it starts ra-“ And just as she was about to finish her sentence, the sound of rumbling came from outside. Y/n turned her head towards the window of the living room and watched as a few rain drops fell from the sky. “Cmon Heffron” she sighed as she poked his belly causing him to groan and curl up into a ball.

“The floors comfy, c’mon just lay back down” he spoke as she opened the front door again, a small gush of wind coming in. The rain only picking up by the second, y/n’s jaw dropped and turned to Babe who was still on the floor.

“Edward our dining table!” She groaned as she ran out of the house, Edward only sighed and ran behind her and watched as she ran to the side and watched him freeze at the sight of her. “What are you standing there for help me!” She chuckled, her wet hair sticking to her skin.

“I don’t want a dog,” he spoke, y/n only tilted her head and looked at him as if asking if he was serious.

“Fine we’ll get a cat can you just help m-“ Edward shook his head and watched as his wife stood in the rain with both of her hands on either side of her precious dining table.

“I want a baby first,” he interrupted his voice filled with nothing but hope. Y/n froze and closed her eyes at his wish. After a minute of thinking she opened her eyes again and saw her husband watching her process his request.

“Fine,” she shrugged her shoulders, Edwards eyes lit up with joy as a smile spread onto his face cheek from cheek. “First help me get the goddamn dining table inside please!” She pleaded, Edward smiled and grabbed not the other edge of the table knowing very damn well his wife would keep her promise.

#band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #babe heffron #babe heffron x reader #babe heffron imagine #edward heffron

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thalia-amongst-the-thorns · 5 years

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Dinner and a Show

Thought I’d post something I wrote recent-ish, a continuation with my characters Indigo the incubus and Rosemary the hedgewitch who I wrote about a long time ago here!

Warning that it gets very explicit, so brace yourself...

_________

Something was off about Indigo. Rosemary couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly, but a cloud of oddness had hung around him all day regardless. Maybe it was because he hadn’t put up a fuss when Poppy had picked a truly sappy rom-com for tonight’s dinner-and-a-show (under the pretense of torturing Rosemary with boredom, Poppy would never admit to actually having something so icky as feelings). Or maybe because he hadn’t said much of anything the whole day, not even a peep when Rosemary asked him to tag along into town to help make home deliveries and the Widow Powell (16 ounces Drought of Peace, 8 ounces Cheer and Charm weekly) had made eyes at him like a woman half her age and with her original hips intact.

Of course, the ultimate tell something was wrong was when Poppy actually noticed something beyond her phone screen.

“I liked his look this morning better.”

Rosemary frowned, running a dish towel over a worn mug in the shape of a smiling frog. “Whose look?”

Somehow Poppy managed to make blowing her bangs out of her eyes into an irritated gesture. She jerked one thumb back towards the living room where Indigo was cleaning up the remains of their Thai takeout, her other hand never skipping a beat as it tip-tapped on her phone, her hip resting against the kitchen counter because of course standing up straight was just too much effort.

“Indigo?” Rosemary put the mug down pointedly with more force than probably necessary. Dish duty was supposed to be a two person task. At least, it used to be. “Looks the same to me. Good thing too, it took him forever to settle on a permanent human form.”

Bang blow paired with an eye roll. “Nuh-huh. His hair is shorter now. And his chin’s wider. Kinda like an Indian Rami Malek.”

Really? Rosemary quickly glanced through the door but Indigo’s back was to them, his dark hair up in a messy bun. She shook her head and plunged her hands back into the sudsy dish water, annoyed at herself for letting her sister get under her skin.

“Now you’re just making stuff up.”

“You didn’t even look at him!” Poppy actually glanced up from her screen, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner that was not at all appropriate for someone her age. “Come on, I know you want to.”

“Poppy!”

“What? It’s not my fault you’ve got a stick so far up your ass you can’t see--!”

“Poppy!” Rosemary’s face burned so hot she was surprised the water didn’t evaporate at her touch. “Watch your tongue girl, you do not get to talk to me like that under my roof!”

The old cold look settled over Poppy’s face and she straightened to her full height, glowering down, hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides. Rosemary met her glare head on, face hot and dangerous. She’d been on the receiving end of many (really, most) of Poppy’s Looks and was no slouch herself. For generations the Baxter women had always had just one of those faces that made grown men worship them as goddesses or run for the hills. The two sisters took after the latter.

Poppy’s left eye twitched. She always broke first.

“Fine. Whatever.” She stomped to the backdoor, voice dripping with sarcasm as she yanked it open.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Out.” Nose wrinkling, Poppy shot Rosemary a withering look over her shoulder. “Preferably somewhere where people are mature enough to get off their high horse and fuck when they want to.”

Rosemary barely registered the door slamming behind her sister, the blood was pounding so loudly in her ears it hurt. She wanted to scream. Smash all the pathetic little knick-knacks on the drying board into powder. Mix up a boiling cauldron of Elixir of Blood Rot and flood the streets.

Instead, she breathed steadily through her nose and finished washing and drying dishes.

The flush would fade from her cheeks only to return stronger as she replayed Poppy’s infuriatingly knowing look, her words that cut deep like only a sister’s could. Damn that girl. She was goddamn sixteen and had no business saying things like that to her. Especially about Indigo. It wasn’t Rosemary’s fault the demon was living with them, it wasn’t even Indigo’s fault really (not that she’d admit it to him). Just yet another one of Poppy’s messes for her to clean up after.

“So…”

Rosemary flinched so badly she almost dropped the last plate in her hands. Indigo leaned against the doorframe behind her, the living room spotless behind him.

“Is this the kind of human thing where you want to talk about it, or should I just gracefully pretend I was momentarily deaf and did not hear charming Poppy cuss you out and storm off into the night?”

“I…” Rosemary hesitated, took her time putting the plate away. Why was she hesitating? You didn’t talk to demons about your feelings. Especially an incubus. That was just asking for all sorts of trouble. “The latter this time, I think.”

“Fair enough.” Something flickered behind his eyes, but before Rosemary could register what it was a smile was stretched across his lips. “You want to watch some Queer Eye? The next season just dropped and I hear the episode with the single dad with the figure skating daughter is super adorable.”

Again, she hesitated. The dinner-and-a-show Saturdays were more for Poppy’s sake, the facade of a family dinner without the family. Ignoring tonight’s explosive finish, usually the night ended with Poppy vanishing upstairs into the depths of her room while Rosemary checked on the potions that needed to stew overnight and wracked her brain over the store’s finances before passing out on top of her bedsheets fully clothed and Indigo planted himself on the couch for his usual twelve plus hours of media consumption. Demons didn’t need sleep and the bonding curse made it impossible for him to leave the house unless Rosemary did, but he didn’t usually ask her to stay up with him. She’d made it clear she had too much work, too much stress for such things.

Indigo wiggled his eyebrows, his voice dropping into mock-seductive tones. “Come on, you know you want to see Jonathan Van Ness in ice skates.”

Well, that did sound fun. And a good distraction from angry little sisters who didn’t know what they were talking about.

“Sure.” She grabbed a bag of the horrible pickle popcorn Indigo was so fond of from the back of the cabinet and tossed it into his eager hands. “Might as well cut loose, not like there are any orders to babysit tonight anyway.”

Of course, no new orders was its own kind of problem, but it was best not to dwell on that now.

Despite herself, Rosemary couldn’t help casting a side glance at Indigo as she followed him back into the living room. He definitely looked the same from this morning. Perfect brown skin, long hooked nose in a long face. Perfect hair, long, dark and glossy, piled on his head in a tousled bun that somehow made him look relaxed instead of disheveled. Perfect teeth, perfectly fitted button down shirt and jeans on his perfect trim body. Perfectly perfect. It’s what incubus did best.

… It was possible that maybe he was a little shorter. But everyone was tall when it came to Rosemary so she hardly paid attention to that sort of thing. And with his hair up there was no way to know if that was different…

Damn it Poppy. What did it matter if Indigo had changed? At least he was still human shaped. He used to change all the time when he’d first been summoned, trying to suit the tastes of those around him. Men, women, tall, short, muscular, willowy and all variations between and beyond. It was only after Rosemary had lectured him about how she refused to let the neighbors believe she was running a harem out of her basement that Indigo had given in and settled on his current form for going about the town. It was only natural he’d keep wearing it in private, helped to maintain the charade of humanity just in case.

Indigo queued up the television, Queer Eye’s peppy intro music filling and numbing Rosemary’s head, and the two of them settled onto opposite sides of the couch. Indigo ripped open the popcorn bag and had already emptied half of it into his mouth within the first five minutes while Rosemary curled her legs up and balanced her chin on her knees, distracting herself with five fabulous men who changed lives and hearts in forty-five minutes of less.

… And yet she found her eyes wandering over to Indigo, who thankfully kept his own gaze glued to the screen. He seemed fine. In fact, he’d been remarkably well behaved for the past few weeks. Quieter, less prone to innuendo and suggestive talk with customers in the shop. No secret flirtations or temptations, no transforming into a demon from the depths of hell and consuming souls…

A thought niggled at the back of Rosemary’s mind. When was the last time she’d seen Indigo in his true form? She’d lectured him about it two, three weeks ago? When she’d caught him skulking with Poppy in her room playing video games with, well, everything hanging out (wings, tail, horns, the whole mess). He hadn’t actually been naked, thank god, but it still didn’t seem appropriate and some boundaries had to be maintained. Guess he’d taken it to heart.

Her mind tuned in and out of the show, her shoulders hunching and knees hugged closer to her chest, vaguely registering that Jonathan was sporting a cute stubble look this season. Antoni showed the hero of the episode how to make cinnamon apple pancakes to fill the riff between him and his daughter. Bobby refurbished the home with snowy throw pillows and decorative mason jars. People laughed and no one raised their voice.

Something brushed the back of her neck and Rosemary squeaked in alarm, hand swatting out before she actually looked over to find Indigo now right next to her with a bemused expression verging on embarrassment. His hand hovered awkwardly just above her shoulder.

“Sorry”, he said, “should have asked first, you just looked so tense…”

The muscles in her neck practically screamed as Rosemary looked down at the curled pretzel her body had formed. Now that he’d said something about it she could feel the tightness in her upper back, the subtle pounding of her temples that had started when Poppy left and hadn’t let up.

“I’m very good at back rubs,'' Indigo said shamelessly and Rosemary rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” she sighed, but shifted over slightly so that her back faced him. She didn’t know if it was true for all incubus, but Indigo had always been exceptionally touchy-feely from the start, and not just in a sexual sense. He always wanted to hold hands, run his fingers through your hair, rest his head on your shoulder. It probably wasn’t a good idea to encourage him, but, well, he just looked so miserable when you said no and Rosemary wasn’t heartless.

Large, warm hands worked at the knots in her shoulders, pressing at just the right points so that goosebumps swept down her arms. Instantly she felt the layers of tension melt away, her head hanging down loosely and eyelids drooping. Indigo worked his way up her back, delicately kneading the nape of her neck and running his fingers through her thick afro before tickling her scalp with his nails. Little tingles of pleasure spread through her at his touch, warm and fuzzy.

Damn, he was good.

The show’s closing credits started up in the background and abruptly Indigo’s hands were gone and she heard him shift over and stand. Warmth still lingered along her skin from his touch and Rosemary had to bite her tongue to stop an annoyed huff from escaping her lips.

“Do you want to watch the next episode,” Indigo asked over his shoulder, crouched by the television. Rosemary nodded, trying to put casual indifference into the gesture even as she hoped he’d pick up where he left off on her. He smiled and plopped down next to her, disturbing the cushions so that Rosemary unbalanced and awkwardly slid over into his side. As if it was the most natural thing in the world Indigo laughed and hooked his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in so that Rosemary’s cheek rested against the crook of his neck.

Well. This is what she got for encouraging him. Damn, touchy-feely incubus.

Nothing to do but ride it out. Rosemary sighed and moved her arm into a more comfortable position so that it draped over Indigo’s lap. At least Indigo was cozy, his body pleasantly toasty, a faint musky, spicy scent coming off his skin and hair.

They watched the next episode in comfortable silence. Absentmindedly, Indigo began running his fingers through her thick hair again, gently teasing out mauve kinks and knots. He brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, thumb ghosting her lips, and Rosemary flinched. She felt his body tense, hand instantly gone from her hair.

“Sorry.”

“No”, she said too quickly and mentally kicked herself. “It’s fine. Just surprised me.”

His muscles relaxed again but he kept his hands to himself. Regret chased by confusion mixed around in the pit of Rosemary’s stomach.

The episode was almost over when he spoke up again.

“I’m sure she’s fine.”

Rosemary glanced at the small, inconspicuous pendant of carnelian and amethyst perched on the mantel. It hadn’t moved all evening.

“I know she is.”

“She means well.”

Rosemary laughed, a short, bitter sound. “Oh no, she does not. She’s at that rebellious teenage stage where she realizes that words hurt and she can use them too.”

She was so close to him that Rosemary could hear the contemplative hum at the back of Indigo’s throat.

“Maybe. But she’s also trying to be heard and doesn’t feel like you’re listening. The only time you do seem to listen is when she hurts you.”

“I really don’t want to talk about this with you,” Rosemary said curtly. It was bad enough failing at parenting without the demon telling her she was failing.

Her head bobbed up and down as Indigo’s shoulders shrugged under her. “Hey, I’m the one who can read emotions. Your loss if you don’t want to exploit that.”

“Please, there’s only one emotion you care about.”

Indigo grunted. “I care about plenty of things.”

“Me, myself, and I are all one thing Indie”, Rosemary teased, but Indigo didn’t laugh. She craned her head back so that she could look at him, the glow of the television casting the stubble on his face into shadow. “Indigo?”

“I care about making sure the shop stays open,” Indigo said slowly, eyes fixed ahead at the screen. “I care about Poppy and making sure she stays safe even if she doesn’t want to. I care about making you safe and happy.” An odd look passed over his face and his arm tightened around her so that Rosemary’s temple brushed against his rough chin.

All the blood in her body seemed to be traveling to her head very quickly and Rosemary blurted out the first thing that floated through the mess of her mind. “Since when did you have stubble?”

“Huh?” Indigo stroked his cheek, seemingly just as surprised as her. The odd look passed over his face but Rosemary caught it this time. Guilt.

Stubble. Rami Malek’s bone structure--

“You’re doing the thing!” Rosemary broke out of Indigo’s arms and jabbed an accusatory finger at his chest.

“What ‘thing’?”

“The thing,” she cried. “Looking at my heart’s deepest desires and twisting them to tempt me into- into fucking my soul out so you can eat it! The thing you swore not to do ever no matter what!”

“I’m not trying to do it,” Indigo snapped back, surprising Rosemary with his fervor. Indigo had never yelled before. In fact, she’d never even seen him really upset before. Not like now; he sprung up from the couch and paced, actually pulling at his hair so that it came undone and hung down to his waist.

“I- I don’t think you understand just how confusing all of this is,” he continued. “I’m used to coming and going whenever I’m hungry. I don’t stick around, why would I want to, people are so boring when they’re not fucking, all that eating and sleeping and talking about nothing at all…” He waved his hands, taking in her and the whole house. “But then you came along and I had no choice but to stay and find out just how wrong I was about everything. And now I’m feeling all of these- these things that I’m not used to feeling and I don’t know what to do with them.” In an instant he bounded forward and grabbed Rosemary’s hands up in his own. “I-I want you to be happy but I don’t know how to do that.” Seamlessly his body seemed to melt and fade, shrinking and reforming into a dead ringer for Rami Melek, eyes wide and frenzied.

Rosemary’s mouth popped open in surprise and Indigo-Rami frowned, eyes raking her up and down but not not finding what they were looking for.

“No, no, no,” he mumbled, body once again melting, hips widening, breast swelling until a shapely woman with freckles along her nose and waves of auburn hair clutched at Rosemary’s hands.

“No no no”, Indigo wailed again, the sound shaking Rosemary out of her stuper.

“Indigo, stop,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, reassuring, “please. I don’t want you to do this.”

“But you liked it.” Indigo glanced up at her through a curtain of hair, breaths short but steadier now. “You liked that form.”

“Yes”, Rosemary admitted, “I did. But you know how you want me to be happy? Well--” she swallowed, throat suddenly dry, “- I want you to be happy too. And right now I can tell that this is not making you happy.” She ran her thumbs over the back of Indigo’s now small, pale hands thoughtfully. “Indigo… what do you want to look like?”

Indigo blinked in confusion. “Whatever you want.”

“No, not like--!” Rosemary caught herself and took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If you want to do that it’s fine Indigo, but I meant what form you would feel most comfortable in right now.”

His brow furrowed, and at first Rosemary worried that she still hadn’t gotten through to Indigo. Maybe she couldn’t; when your whole purpose was catering to others’ desires, it made sense that you’d lose track of your own. After a moment though his form shifted again, taller and taller until his head almost brushed the ceiling and a pair of horns curled up and out from his forehead. His chest flattened and broadened, the clothes melting into his body and his skin darkening into a soft purple that deepened at his elbows to a rich black at his now clawed hands. A tail extended from the base of his spine topped with a coil of dark hair and a pair of immature wings, spiny and batlike, burst from his back.

The incubus stared down at Rosemary with golden eyes, lips pulling back from tusked teeth in a small grin.

“Better?”

“Yeah”, Indigo murmured, his voice deeper in his demonic form. He ran his claws through his still long hair, felt his horns gingerly. “It’s been a while…”

Guilt twisted painfully in Rosemary’s gut. “I’m sorry Indigo, I shouldn’t have made you change what you looked like just so that I, god I don’t know anymore, felt more comfortable…” She trailed off lamely. It really felt like a dick move when she said it out loud.

Indigo smirked, the expression somehow enhanced by his tusks. “Please, you didn’t make me do anything. I just thought you’d prefer something more human over this.” He gestured at his body, claws trancing down his chiseled torso. Really, it wasn’t Rosemary’s fault her eyes lingered on his abs. Given that he was at least a good two feet taller than her now she was either staring his abs or straining her neck again to see his face. Not that he’d notice her noticing. Hopefully.

Indigo’s head cocked curiously.

Oh no.

“What?” Was what Rosemary tried to say. What actually came out was a pathetic squeak.

Oh no.

In a surprisingly fluid movement Indigo knelt down so that they were at eye level. Rosemary sank deeper into the couch, casually meeting his golden eyes and determinedly thinking pure thoughts. Ever so slowly, a leer spread across the incubus’s face.

“Do you see something you like,” he asked and Rosemary burned at the smug satisfaction in his voice.

“I-I-,” she stammered, her mouth, the traitor, going bone dry.

“You said you wanted to make me happy too,” Indigo said slowly, weighing the words on his tongue. A smile, earnest and happy, broke over his face and something fluttered painfully inside Rosemary chest. “Well, I know what would make me very, very happy…”

“I bet you do”, Rosemary managed to mutter and Indigo chuckled. Even his breath smelled good in this form, the same pleasant warm musk of his skin…

“Only if you say you want it too,” he said.

Rosemary squirmed uncomfortably, tried to keep the accusation out of her voice. “How do I know it’s what I want? Can’t you just make me…?”

She was immensely thankful that Indigo didn’t look hurt at the question, instead growing sober, eyes intense. “No. I wouldn’t do that, and I couldn’t if I wanted to. The whole point of an incubus is to tempt, to dangle humans’ carnal desires right under their noses, but the human still has to make the decision to pursue it. Comes with the whole free will thing. The sin has to be freely chosen.”

He ran a claw delicately down the center of Rosemary’s face, traced the curve of her nose and lips.

“And my-my soul,” Rosemary whispered once she’d found her train of thought again.

“I can feed off of other things,” Indigo said, eyes trailing over her body longingly and Rosemary shivered. “It’s been a while since I last had a meal though, so best to warn you that I’ll be very enthusiastic…”

Rosemary’s head was swimming, drowning in gold and desire. It had to be a trick, some incubus trap to leave her weak and vulnerable. But… even when Indigo wasn’t around her, when she was out of reach of his potential influence, she knew how she felt about him even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself. How she’d grown to enjoy his company, to depend on him, to trust him to watch over Poppy. And even if it was a trick, it was still her choice to make.

So, what did she want?

“You better be hungry,” Rosemary said, leaning forward so there was barely an inch between their faces. “Because I am a dish.”

She cut off Indigo’s laugh with her lips, pressing her body against his. He tasted like heat and salt and surprisingly of cinnamon on the back of her tongue, his tusks tugging at her lips.

“And here I thought I was the eager one,” he murmured when at last they broke away.

“Try to keep up.”

Indigo’s eyes flashed, and a growl built in the depths of his chest. Rosemary swallowed. Oh dear. That might have been a bit more forward than she’d intended--

All at once Indigo had wrapped his large hands around her waist and picked her up, pressing her pelvis to his chest so Rosemary had no choice but to wrap her legs around his torso. Rosemary gasped. She was what she liked to call ‘solidly built’, with thick arms and legs and a stomach she preferred not to dwell on, but Indigo was able to hold her effortlessly while his mouth got to work on her neck, nibbling and moaning against her suddenly very sensitive skin.

Not be outdone she threw her hips back and down, rocking as best she could in Indigo’s firm grasp, grinding against his crotch. She could feel the length of him hardening under her and he paused in his ministrations to groan into her ear.

“Not yet.”

With ease he rolled down onto the ground so that she was pinned under him, his grinning face right above hers. There was a crash as the coffee table was unceremoniously kicked away to make room. God, she’d never really appreciated how damn big he was, his form filling her vision completely.

“Not till I’m done with you,” he growled and Rosemary whimpered, heart racing.

Claws, so gentle before, hooked under her shirt and ripped the offending fabric away, revealing the pale blue bra underneath. A blush rose in Rosemary’s cheeks. There was a lacey black bra with matching panties gathering dust somewhere in her dresser, something more appropriate. Indigo had probably fucked underwear models for God’s sake, what did she think she was doing--

Indigo leaned down and pressed his mouth to her breast and Rosemary gasped. His tongue (how had she never appreciated it before?) pressed against the flimsy material of her bra, tracing circles around her hardening nimple. She squirmed and he chuckled, nipping playfully at her nipple, the pain cutting through Rosemary like a warm knife and spreading down her body to between her legs. Indigo moved on to her other breast with that marvelous tongue of his, and Rosemary grasped forward blindly, latching onto his horns with both hands and bracing herself as the intense heat and pain coursed through her again. He gave her a moment to catch her breath, nuzzling against her chest and leaving a trail of kissing along her collar bone.

“Beautiful”, he murmured against her skin and Rosemary beamed.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

She felt his lips smile against her neck before he shifted downward and she was forced to let go of his horns, his mouth now at her chest, her stomach, her hips. His hands grasped her shoulders, claws prickling wonderfully and painfully, pinning her with ease. He straightened up, straddling her, and Rosemary was pretty sure it was only because of his amazing thigh muscles that she wasn’t being crushed flat by his sheer immensity.

Indigo’s tail flicked around his hip and disappeared from view below. Something tugged at her pants and automatically Rosemary tried to sit up. Indigo’s hands squeezed slightly, a casual show of strength, and Rosemary couldn’t move an inch.

He sniggered. “Not until I’m done, right?”

“Right,” Rosemary gulped. How had she never realized how strong he was, how firm and steady? She was too used to being in charge, running the store and him trailing behind, the loyal assistant. It was rather enjoyable to have the roles reversed for once.

The thing continued to tug at the button of her jeans, and out of the corner of her eye Rosemary could just see Indigo’s tail coiling and uncoiling in time with the sensation. After a moment there was a release at her hips as the button came undone and Indigo deftly threaded his tail through a belt loop, pulling her jeans down and exposing her pink panties.

“What else can that tail do,” she laughed.

A wicked look broke over Indigo’s face. Something soft tickled between Rosemary’s thighs, teasing her lips down there and sending waves of heat coursing through her. A moan slipped out of her throat and Indigo smirked.

“Now, now, we’re just getting to the fun part,” he chided, head disappearing between her legs. Rosemary bent her legs out slightly to accommodate his horns, limbs awkward and unsure, before Indigo reached out and carefully guided her knees so that they were braced against his horns instead. Rosemary opened her mouth to thank him when the words became a shriek of delight as his tongue played at the outside of her panties, pressing the fabric roughly against her as he traced her labia steadily. He moved inward and Rosemary could feel the warmth spreading through her, fast and strong, wetness forming between her legs.

His tusk scraped the inside of her thigh and Rosemary’s back arched in pleasure, fingers digging into the carpet. In one swift motion he grabbed her panties in his teeth and ripped them away, tossing them over on top of the sad remains of her shirt. Now with nothing separating them he took her up inside his mouth, tongue massaging her clitoris. Rosemary groaned, low and long, and one of Indigo’s hands slipped away to assist his tireless mouth, claws providing a new, deliciously abrasive sensation.

Heat and delight rocked through her body, building and building to the point that Rosemary thought she’d burst from the sensations burning inside her. Panting, Indigo pulled his head back up, golden eyes hungry, her cum dribbling down his chin. Slowly he leaned over her, one hand tangling in her hair, the other reach down and guiding his cock inside her.

Rosemary whimpered, reaching up and grabbing his horns again as he moved deeper inside her and then deeper still, filling her completely and still going. A moan rumbled deep in Indigo’s chest and the two of them rocked in tandem as he dived down inside her, bodies a tangle of friction and ecstasy.

Rosemary cried out in joy, body slick with sweat. Oh, it was good, so good, him inside her, how he could reach parts of her she hadn’t realized she wanted touched. It was definitely something she could get used to.

With a shudder Indigo released inside her, hot and thick, and Rosemary let loose a ragged scream, her nerves on fire. Her breath came in jagged gasps and Indigo slid himself out of her, his own chest heaving and glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his skin.

It took a few seconds for Rosemary’s mind to piece itself back together, and even then all she could manage was a breathless, “Wow.”

Indigo made a pleased rumbling sound and stroked her hair away from her forehead. “I tend to have that effect.”

“I mean, I knew that, but still. Wow.”

After a few seconds Indigo peeled himself off of her and leaned his back against the couch, but before Rosemary could fully catch her breath he had scooped her up again and deposited her in his lap. His toned, strong arms pulled her close to his chest, his whole body enveloping her easily as his face nuzzled her hair.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Rosemary said, face flushing at how quickly the answer had come. “Did you… are you hungry still?”

“I’m always hungry.” He leaned over her face and kissed her, his long hair tickling her cheeks. She could taste herself on his lips. “You are fantastic.”

Rosemary grinned and melting into his warm embrace, eyes closing.

“Care for another round?”

“Right now!” Rosemary’s eyes flew open, looking up into Indigo’s hopeful face.

“Well, ideally yes,” he admitted, “but if you prefer, maybe in a more general sense…”

“God, you’re incorrigible.” Rosemary shook her head in exasperation but the grin never left her face. “I suppose I could clear my schedule. Assuming you don’t have anything better to do.”

“Making you happy is my top priority,” Indigo said as if the words had just occurred to him. He lapsed into thoughtful silence and nodded to himself.

“Yes, uh, well…,” Rosemary mumbled, embarrassed and pleased by his earnestness, “don’t get carried away.”

Indigo made a noncommittal grunting sound and stood up, casually keeping her in his arms so that her hands were braced against his chest and he had a generous hold of her ass.

“We should probably get cleaned up.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “And if you’re up for it, there’s always round two...”

#My writing #Indigo the Incubus #Rosemary the Witch #monster boyfriend #exophilia #lemon #incubus

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