#the blond jock likes the quiet black haired boy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skylarsblue · 2 years

Text

What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie?

Content Warning(s): Smut, very slightly mentioned internalized homophobia, Probably typos because I had a fever of 102.6 when I wrote this. These are OC’s by the way.

Joshua Eecker; strawberry blond, green eyes, 5’7”, 18(in this story). Vincent Walker; black hair, blue eyes, 6’6”, 19(in this story).

The party wasn’t very fun. That was just something Josh had to face. Full of drunk teens sucking each others faces and making dumb decisions. He should’ve been into it. He was the classic jock, he should enjoy sports, Playboy magazines and cheap booze in red solo cups. But he didn’t. Joshua didn’t like the amount of times his bulge was grabbed by some drunk girl on the cheer squad, nor did he like the pressure from his teammates to consume half his weight in beer. Halloween was his favorite holiday but he wasn’t enjoying it. He didn’t even bother with a costume, he always tried to make a costume. So?

He left.

Went back home in the cold air, finding solace in the fact his father was gone, and he’d probably be gone for another two days. So, the green-eyed eighteen year old went inside. He wasn’t sure what he’d do. Maybe he’d do his typical weekend routine, the same horror VHS tapes and replaying Resident Evil on his Gameboy. He went through the motions lazily. Take a shower -aka soak up all the hot water for as long as it’d go- and then change into his comfortable clothes. A loose Crimson Glory band tee, some faded green gym shorts, and a plaid jacket. The boy dried his hair and entered his room again. He opened his closet, dragging out a large box TV with a VHS player built in, somewhat like what they did for school movies. Josh ensured it was plugged in before he went back to the closet. He shuffled between his horror movie collection. Suddenly, causing a jolt through his body, his phone on his desk. He huffed in annoyance. The strawberry blond boy circled around to drop his entertainment choices on his mattress before going to the ringing device. The Autumn wind outside whirled colorful leafs, making the dying tree by his window lightly tap on his cracked window. Josh rose an eyebrow at the unreadable number. The three options ran past his head. Either someone had the wrong number, someone at the party gave his number to someone else, and lastly? A prank call with their number blocked. Typically, he’d ignore this, yet the young man felt compelled to answer it. So, with an aggravated sigh, he flipped opened his phone and pressed it to his ear after accepting.

“Hello?” Josh asked tiredly, turning from his desk, rubbing his eye tiredly with his sleeve. “Hello.” A deep, rumbling tone came through the receiver. Menacing and quiet, but…familiar. Though Josh couldn’t be sure so he didn’t assume. “Yes?” The boy asked after a moment of silence. “Who is this?” The voice replied, Josh got that strange trill of it all. He’d heard this before. Several times before, Joshua inhaled. “Who are you trying to reach?” These lines back and forth could’ve been a fluke, so out of pure curiosity, Josh kept it going. “What number is this?” The deep voice replied, careful and slow. “What number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you have the wrong number.”

“Do I?”

“It happens, take it easy.”

This was the testing point. Josh swallowed thickly and hesitantly hit the end call button, trying to brush off the sudden raise in his body temperature. He rubbed his cheeks in order to push away the blush that had built up shamefully. Seconds passed by, Josh was on edge, but he didn’t find it unpleasant. He sighed when a minute passed, going to turn back to his bed. Just as he went to do so, his phone rang again, and he nearly hurt his neck when he whipped back to look. The same thing as before. A blocked number. Josh’s nerves sparked with a slow growing bit of adrenaline as he reached for it. “Hello?” He spoke, softer this time.

“I’m sorry, I guess I dialed again.”

Josh’s chest constricted and a subtle shiver hit his spine. This was what he thought, and shamefully, what he hoped for. “So why did you dial again?” He asked. “To apologize.” Replied the strangers, the voice was so impossibly deep, so unfair. “You’re forgiven. Bye now-“ “Wait wait, don’t hang up.” Josh didn’t want to anyway, he wanted to continue this conversation, listen to the menacing voice, feel it rumble into his bones. The boy shifted his weight back and forth as he messed with his jacket drawstring. “What?” He said, voice soft. “I want to talk to you for a second.” Josh nearly complained out loud, he knew what he’d have to do if he wanted to continue how this was going. He prayed the wait for the next call wouldn’t be such a long wait. “They’ve got nine hundred numbers for that, See’ya.” He forced himself to hit the call end button.

There was a slight tremble in his hands, a barely noticeable shudder in his breathing, far warmer than he was before. Shame gnawed at his brain. A feeling of disgust in his stomach mixed with something else just below his waist. His mind gave whispered taunts and insults, all of which made the situation worse, but not in the way that would prompt him to stop. He gasped with a slight knee buckle when the phone rang again, there was no hesitation this time. Josh tried to tell himself the goosebumps that arose were from the breeze from his window. “Hello…” Josh bit his lower lip when the borderline demonic tone came back through his phone. “Why don’t you want to talk to me?” He asked. Josh shook his sleeves so they fell over his hands and pulled one of them to his mouth, cold fingers pressing against his blood-rush visage.

“Who is this?”

“Tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine.”

The teen pushed a swallow down as he shuddered again, involuntarily. “I don’t think so.” He didn’t have popcorn, he wondered if the stranger would keep that in or not. Maybe he could get close enough? He grabbed a jolly rancher on his desk and quickly placed it in his mouth, making sure there was a light clack on his teeth. He heard the person pull away to chuckle just barely. “What’s that noise?” The boy mentally rejoiced as he pulled at his shirt fabric. “Candy.” A slight deviate from the script but he hoped it would still work. “I only eat candy at the movies.” Fitting, it worked, that one word change didn’t throw anything off. Josh almost grew sick at just how excited that made him. “I’m getting ready to watch a video.” He muttered, lazily glancing over his shoulder at the discarded movies on his bed. He looked back to the floor.

“Really? What?”

“Just some scary movies.”

“Do you like scary movies?”

His knees grew weak as one of his favorite lines grew near. His thighs were tightly pressed together and he felt nauseous and wanting. He had to remind himself to take a deep breath, he partially prayed the stranger didn’t hear it, to save him the embarrassment. He let out a small agreement and unconsciously nodded his head. He had a feeling this mystery caller already knew the answer.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Josh struggled not to whine, he clutched his throat as if it would stop it. He couldn’t fathom why this was the thing they made him crumble, why he couldn’t have normal fantasies, why he couldn’t have been the predator on the phone. He didn’t want to be. He didn’t want some Hollywood blonde on the other side of the line. Joshua wanted to be hunted. Something that would never leave him in admission, but he couldn’t decline or argue against it. Not when he needed it so badly. It was embarrassing, shameful, pathetic. He wanted it that way.

“I don’t know.” He muttered quietly. That was a lie, he did have a favorite. How fitting of a question when they were reciting it now. A movie that played jokes at other movies tropes, with gory kills and typical naked shots. That he didn’t care about. But rather, the killer’s concept, the dark and cheap cloak with the stark white mask, the taunting & teasing, the vulnerability they caused. The god damn gloves. Josh’s best friend, Richard, poked fun at him for how often he watched it, he lost count after fifteen. He never admitted why he liked it so much. “C’mon on, you gotta have a favorite.” The man replied. “Uh… Halloween. You know, the one with the guy with the white mask who just sorta walks around and stalks the babysitters. What’s yours?” He already knew.

“Guess.” The demand was calm and gentle but it Josh had to turn away and cover his mouth, feeling something in his shorts twitch. He took in a shaky breath. “Uh, Nightmare on Elm Street.” That wasn’t the right answer. “Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?” “Yeah, Freddy Kruger.” The boy exhaled. “Freddy! That’s right. I liked that one…” Josh locked his knees and felt his brain grow fuzzy as another line he adored approached. Such a guilty pleasure.

“It was scary .”

The emphasis managed to draw the smallest, choked out gasp, barely audible. He wondered if the stranger heard it, whether that was good or bad. He wanted to sink to the floor and pull his hand down. But he’d ruin the flow, so he forced his hands above his waist, fumbling with his clothes and chewing at his bottom lip. Flushed bright red. He shook out his hand and forced himself to reply again. “The first one was b-but the rest sucked.” He silently cursed himself for the small stutter. “So, you got a boyfriend?” The rumbling tone was like a live wire to Josh’s blood. Sparking emotions and yearning he desperately pushed down, he silently thanked whatever was listening that he was home alone. “Why, you wanna ask me out?” He asked. “Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?” There was no feasible way for Josh to keep his breathing slow and steady, wobbling on his feet and weak. “No.” Josh replied. “You never told me your name.” They purred and Josh’s thighs tightened. “Why do you want to know my name?”

“‘Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at right now.”

Fear was only the second emotion that his brain sent, artificial at best. A rapid heartbeat with twitching joints. Fight or flight were rampant but he stayed put, he didn’t move, he wanted it to keep going. His trembling could be mistaken for fear.

“What did you say?”

“I said I wanna know who I’m talking to.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“What do you think I said?” The voice was gruff, so unbelievably intimidating. So unfairly effective. His mind was so foggy, he nearly forgot his line. “I have to go now.” He didn’t want to, he never wanted to hang up, phone bill be damned. He wanted to carve the voice into his soul so he could hear it whenever he wanted, and his brain degraded him for feeling so. “Wait, what about our date?” A date. Josh wondered where they’d even go in such a small town, would it be a traditional date? Maybe it’d be one of those cute drive-in movie scenarios, where they could kiss in the middle of it, maybe more. “Nah, I don’t think so.” He wanted to so badly. “Don’t hang up on me.” Another soft demand that nearly sent Josh crumbling to the floor. “Gotta go…” “Don’t-“

Josh forced himself to hang up and slammed his phone at his side. He ran a hand through his wavy hair and whimpered, covering his mouth when it escaped. He cringed at himself for the outright moan he stifled when the ringtone came again. He answered so fast he worried he broke the button. “Hello?” He clutched desperately at his shirt when the voice came back. “I told you not to hang up on me.”

“What do you want?” Josh hoped it was the same thing he wanted, prayed for it even, to whatever would listen. He was desperate for it. Shame was a terrible thing to feel but this slammed it down, crushed it, leaving warmth and hungering. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “To talk.” The stranger uttered. “Dial someone else okay?” Josh spoke but internally he begged them not to. “You getting scared?” Yes, he was. Deliciously terrified and enthralled. He didn’t want it to end. He lamented when he had to hang up, rejoicing when the call back was immediate. The breeze from his window did nothing to cool the burning of his skin.

“Listen, you hang up you die.” The stranger cut it down and he didn’t scream, Josh shivered at the tone again. “No please…” he whispered. The exact opposite of what he wanted to say. “It’s an easy category, movie trivia. I’ll even give you a warm up question.” Josh whined again and he couldn’t bite it back. He heard the muffled chuckle. He couldn’t deliver his lines, mind for hazy. “Name the killer in Halloween.” The man demanded. Oddly enough, Josh’s inability to reply was just as fitting as the panicking in the movie. “Come on, it’s your favorite scary movie, remember? He had a white mask, he stalked babysitters…” they trailed off. Josh nearly toppled over, leaning in his desk for support. He’d never been so desperate in his life. He let it grow, build, just like his fantasy called for.

“Come on, what’s his name?”

“Please…” Josh trembled. That wasn’t the line, he couldn’t remember the lines, he’d watched the movie over thirty times and he couldn’t bring the information forth. Their perfect replay of the script began to fall off. There was just shaky heaving instead of the lines, until finally Josh brought up one. “M-Michael…Michael M-Myers…” The words slurred. “Good.” Josh nearly fell again, trying so hard to keep his desperate noises behind his hand, shaking pathetically. “Now for the real question.” He never wanted them to stop talking, he wanted to hear the deep gravel of their voice until his last breath, wanted to feel the disgusting chill for as long as he lived. “Name the killer in Friday the 13th.” They we’re skipping filler text now. Josh wondered what that meant. He shakily exhaled. “Jason, it was Jason.” Josh gasped at the light clicking of the stranger’s tongue, scolding him. “‘Fraid not.”

“It was Jason. I watched that movie twenty times. It was Jason.”

“Then you should know it was Jason’s mother, Mrs.Voorhees, was the original killer. Jason didn’t show up until the sequel.”

The green eyed boy knew that by heart. He knew everything about that movie, but that scolding and sadistic tone made his brain turn to mush. “You tricked me.” He whispered. “Lucky for you, I’m up for a bonus round.” They replied. “Final question, you ready?” The purr was so thrilling, so enthralling, Josh couldn’t even begin to act terrified. “God please…” He heaved. That chuckle nearly made him double over.

“What door am I at?”

The need was bubbling over. He prayed and prayed it wasn’t a prank, nearly ready to cry. He couldn’t handle if they weren’t actually there. He needed it more than oxygen. He couldn’t remember to reply, they continued anyway. “There are two doors in your house, a front one and a back one. If you answer correctly, you live.” Josh whined and put nearly all of his weight in his desk. Barely keeping himself off the floor. The ache was unbearable. “Your call.” They whispered, Josh looked at the ceiling and panted. His heart was so fast and his entire body was so warm. Josh struggled to stand, legs shaking, and the line went dead. His breath caught. He looked at the empty screen and felt tears build up, he couldn’t handle-

Josh jolted when the feeling of cold leather hands circled his waist, his knees bowed inward and he toppled backwards. Into the feeling of a muscular but plush chest, met with the smell of Fall air and vanilla. He felt them lean down to his ear. It was so much worse…no, so, so much better in person. “What do you want?” Josh nearly sobbed as he clutched at the hands resting on him. As if their hands weren’t back enough, they dressed up in the leather gloves. Josh heard the slow slip of a mask being raised, feeling the light breath on his ear, the grin.

“To see what your insides feel like.”

Josh finally turned his head and fought off a lewd moan when he say Vincent’s familiar face. He didn’t fight the careful turning of his body, nor the way he was pulled close. Dressed in a Ghostface mask, a black hoodie with no sleeves, some black pants and scuffed boots. Ears decorated in piercings, those snake bites on his lower lip, the tongue ring . Black, fluffy hair fell over striking blue eyes with blown out pupils. “I win, final boy.” Vincent muttered so close Josh could feel his breath. He clutched desperately at the clothes Vincent wore until the man leaned in. Josh had to be caught so he didn’t faint to the floor.

For a year, Josh denied everything. Harsh, cruel, flustered. He got into a fist fight with Vincent for the way the man softly flirted. He couldn’t come to terms with it. Now, Josh had to have it. Everything. He clawed at Vincent desperately and mewled when Vincent hoisted him up without any struggle. He hurried his hands in fluffy black hair until he felt himself land on his bed. Cold from the wind, a welcome sensation. Vincent rested his hands on either side of Josh’s head. Scanning his eyes over flushed freckled cheeks and the twitching of thighs exposed by high waisted gym shorts. He tilted his head and smiled. “Jesus, Jay. If I knew this would really do it for ya, I’d do it sooner.” He leaned down. Feeling Josh’s leg jerk as he rested a cold glove on top of exposed skin. “You’re shakin’ like you're scared, terrified even. Do I scare ya, doll?” He whispered and delighted himself in the loud whine Josh gave.

Joshua had denied any attraction to Vincent for at least a year, maybe longer. Declaring himself straighter than a board. Denying the allure of tattoos, sharp set gazes and sharp white teeth that looked ready to sink into skin. But he couldn’t deny anything now. Not without leaving himself in physical pain. This sense of need couldn’t be pushed down or dealt with himself, he couldn’t even pretend that he could handle it on his own. He didn’t want to really as Vincent kissed him again. He wasn’t sure if he should curse or praise the universe for creating tongue piercings. His chest heaved up and down as he felt Vincent’s fingers gently trail just slightly under his shirt, no further than his hip bones. “Think you can give me the green light, sweetheart? Just say the word.” The man whispered. Josh groaned and nodded vigorously. “No no, you gotta say it, babe.” He cooed when Josh basically sobbed. “Yes! Okay?! Yes please!” The boy pulled at his hair but melted again when he got another kiss. He yelped when he was gently tugged until his legs hung off the end of the mattress, with Vincent settled between them. “Lemme know if it’s too much. And if you can’t talk? Hit me.” Vincent instructed, kissing Josh one more time before he leaned up. Josh covered the lower half of his face and let out a noise when Vincent pulled the mask off and set it aside. It was too much, really. Josh felt ready to explode at any second, yet any slight graze of his skin had him arching into it. In a flash, that plaid jacket was across the room, along with his shirt and shorts. It was a relief. Everything felt too constrictive, the chill from the open window was helping the feverish feeling. But it did nothing for the ache in his body, the way Vincent’s hands expanded over his body. Tracing ribs, the center of his chest, the small random blemishes. Little kisses and nibbles along his jaw, collarbones, shoulders. He squeezed his legs around Vincent’s hips and grabbed at his back. Any mutter Vincent have made him burn up all over again.

Vincent must’ve hoped for this reaction, he had the supplies in his pocket. He dropped them on the side of the bed before pulling off his sleeveless hoodie. The weight of Vincent’s body on top of his chest was grounding. Josh found comfort in it. Taking a moment to enjoy another kiss to his lips. He made a noise of protest when Vincent pulled back again. The man chuckled. “Easy, baby. I gotta move if you want anymore.” Josh chewed on his lower lip. He closed his eyes and whined in embarrassment as Vincent gently tugged at the waistband of his boxers. He’d never been so vulnerable. He’d never been so exposed. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re god damn beautiful.” Josh felt his heart rate stutter. The tracing of his features again made him shiver & sob once more. “God damnit just please.” The strawberry blond pleaded.

Vincent chuckled quietly as he kissed the side of his neck. He took off his left glove with his teeth, keeping his other hand on Josh’s hip, stroking the bone with his thumb. Had either of them been told this is where they’d end up on Halloween night, Josh would’ve defended against it, and Vincent would’ve scoffed a laugh. But Vincent couldn’t get over the pure sensitivity Josh expressed, every single touch caused a shiver or whimper. Leaning into him desperately. And the sound he made when Vincent began the prep stage, it made the blue eyed man’s breath stutter with want. It was all so new. Josh had only been with a girl, he didn’t really enjoy it, more so for appearances than the actual desire to do so. It was nothing like this. With such intensity, such caution, such yearning. Josh couldn’t be patient. He stated as such, begging through pleasured sounds and panting.

Vincent chuckled at the violent full body shake Josh gave when he heard Vincent’s belt shift and the thump on the floor. Josh dug his fingers into Vincent’s fluffy black hair and dragged him into another kiss. The dam broke. He didn’t bother listening to the insulting side effect of years of abuse and denial of his sexuality stop him. It couldn’t. Not when Vincent’s hands on his body felt so safe but so dangerous at once. He gasped when Vincent nibbled on the edge of his ear. “I should’ve known there was a reason you liked that movie so much. Dirty boy.~” He smiled at the arch in Josh’s back that the words brought. “Please please please…” The boy sniffled. Vincent hushed him quietly and ran his hands up and down Josh’s sides, quickly reaching to grab a pillow from the head of the bed. Vincent kissed Josh and lifted the boy’s head, resting him down kindly onto the cold fabric. Josh went to plead once more but yelped when Vincent pulled his legs up to rest loosely on his shoulders. Pupils wide like he was high, trying to take in more of the image. Vincent gently pecked the inside of Josh’s leg. “I gotta go slow at first, baby. Just trust me, okay?” “Yes yes, I get it, just fucking please!” The boy begged. Vincent chuckled under his breath and gave Josh’s hip a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Peppering a trail of kisses up his thigh as his free hand tugged at the waistband of his pants. The push was painful, they both knew it would be. Josh had never done anything like this and it wasn’t like Vincent was small. Vincent cooed sympathetically at the wince and hiss Josh gave. The contrast of only one of Vincent’s hands being gloved as they reassuringly trailed up & down Josh’s sides. But oddly enough, Josh seemed to enjoy the sting. Vincent noticed and smiled at it, gently nipping at Josh’s right thigh. “Little masochist, huh, final boy?” His grin widened and his veins burned at the outright moan Josh gave, the way it bounced off the walls, unhindered by any sense of humiliation. Vincent exhaled and continued to mutter praises & gentle comforting phrases as Josh adjusted. He felt so full, both mentally and physically. Josh swallowed and managed to force in a few deep breaths.

“D-definitely, nothing…like a chick.” His words made Vincent snicker. The man leaned down to kiss Josh once more. He leaned into it and ignored the sound of light shuffling beside him. Until Vincent pulled back. He could feel the result of his action from Josh’s sudden tensing around him, he smiled as he slowly pulled his mask back on. “You sadistic fucker…” Josh breathed, clutching at Vincent’s bare hand, nails unconsciously digging in. “Guilty.” The taller male growled. Unfair, so unbelievably unfair.

Vincent waited until Josh seemed comfortable before moving. He wished he brought his camera. The reaction he got from that first thrust was something he wanted to immortalize. The utter beauty of Josh’s voice cracking, the arching of his spine, taut like a bow string. The sudden wave of bliss that was so visible. He’d spent so much time wanting nothing more than to cover Josh in adoration and Eros. To be given the opportunity was stupefying. He reminded himself to be slow, even if an animalistic urge clawed at his brain. That sadistic want to leave his mark and claim on plush skin, break blood capillaries as he listened to saccharine songs of bliss. But he held off…until Josh demanded more. The gentle, cautious nature of it all was so kind but Joshua didn’t want that now. He’d pushed down so much shame to get here, he was going to indulge himself to the fullest. Though the sudden shock into his heart rate when Vincent immediately listened was elysian.

A sudden push of his thighs closer to his chest, a tightening grip, and a speed change was enough for Josh to lose any coherency he had left. That wasn’t saying much. Vincent smiled at the unconscious clawing at his arms Josh did as the boy tried to pull him closer. Vincent was sure to double down on praises since he was being rougher. That antithesis between honeyed words and calloused touches made Josh forget his name. Vincent hummed in delight as he did his best to commit the entire experience to memory. The sound of his name spoken with such need was addictive. He lifted his mask enough to leave the occasional hickey on Josh’s thighs. The boy would definitely need to wear pants for the next coming weeks, lest someone catch on to their nocturnal affairs.

Josh’s muscles were tight and sore but it was glorious. He wanted nothing more than to do this forever, he feared being empty ever again. Vincent had clawed his way into Josh’s ribs, settled there close to his heart, and there was no point in repudiating it anymore. He felt the knot in his stomach tighten with a ball of anxiety pulling with it. He blinked back overwhelmed tears as Vincent leaned down again, never slowing, pulling the mask up. He kissed Josh with a passion unmatched. “Pretty boy.” Vincent whispered. It was that one last muttered praise that tipped him off the edge, and despite typical stamina, Vincent couldn’t hold it together for very long afterward. He huffed as he dragged out the experience for Josh, silently rejoicing to himself when Josh refused to let him leave as he broke.

With harsh wind outside sending dead leafs circling, parties dying down and porch lights flipping off, the room grew cold and quiet. Vincent removed the mask and cautiously lowered Josh’s limbs from his shoulders, rubbing his thumb over the blotches he left. Josh had yet to come back down from space. Vincent leaned close and blew some air over Josh’s face, making the boy blink and shudder. “C’mon, come back to me, sweetheart.” He instructed in a gravelly but sweet tone. Josh’s eyes were still unfocused but he was present. The strawberry blond exhaled as he felt Vincent’s hand settle on his cheek, no gloves anymore, feeling cold digits wipe off remnants of tears. Eyes fluttering nearly shut as Vincent peppered kisses along the side of his face. “Can you talk, sweet boy?” Josh shook his head. “That’s okay, you’re probably overwhelmed. C’mon, let’s get you in the bath, hm? Don’t worry, shh, I’m not leaving. I’ll be in there with you.” He reassured when the teen’s eyes widened with fear. He had to disconnect them, which felt oddly…incorrect. Vincent reminded himself he’d get a chance like this again. It wasn’t like they’d go back to being normal after this situation. Vincent pulled Josh up carefully and grabbed some clothes for the boy before he wandered across the hall and into the bathroom. Josh hid in his claw-marked shoulder as he went through the motions of making the bath. Vincent kept the temperature at a gentle warmth and took the time to wash Josh’s hair and limbs, making up for any marks that were too sore. Josh was clingy but exhausted, he didn’t argue at all when he was taken back to bed. Vincent pushed the window shut and shuffled off anything on the bed onto the floor, settling the boy down before he rested beside him. The room faintly smelled of their activities but neither really cared. Josh hid his face in Vincent’s inked chest as strong arms wrapped around him. A kiss was pressed to the crown of his head.

“If you wanna talk about this, we’ll wait til tomorrow.” The man said softly. Josh nodded lazily and clutched at Vincent’s figure, ensuring he’d stay. “G’night, sweetheart. I’ll be right here, I promise. Happy Halloween, baby.” Josh hummed. He took a deep breath of musk and vanilla before letting his eyes fall fully shut, enjoying the gentle two of the tree branch on his window, and the slow heartbeat Vincent had. Shame be damned.

#slashers #slasher community #ghostface #scream #oc #my ocs #smut oneshot #smut #my writing #i was sick when i wrote this

16 notes · View notes

lordstarscreamluvsspikes · 14 days

Text

Hello everybody! Today I have just some random people. These are my own people, and I will provide a brief description of what the two look like. But before that, they are obsesser(Theodore) x psychopath (Sebastian) !!! Requested by a friend of mine. So far, nothing NSFW. But there will be in later chapters.

Part 1

Tw: Stalking, slightly suggestive at end, breaking into home, and tying up.

Theodore 5'7", short wavy blonde hair, usually wearing baggy clothes (such as baggy jeans and baggy shirts), silver streak through hair, white skin, gentle doe eyes

Sebastian: 6'4", black shoulder length curly hair, usually wears cargo pants and tight shirts, sharp eyes, long sharp cut nails

The day was cold, a sharp chill rushing through the breezes. The popular girls all clung to their jock boyfriends, the emos looked like a murder of crows, and the DND and nerd kids were already inside, doing whatever it is the nerds did in the mornings. Theodore had a small group of friends, consisting of a nerd and a popular girl. Her name was Haily. As the leader of the cheerleaders and one of the most popular girls, it came as a shock to most everyone when she was a sweetheart. She adored Theo like a sister would her brother.

As school started, Haily sat next to Theo, stealing his pencil and putting it on her upper lip like a mustache. Instead of the usual laugh and pull it back, he just let her, silently staring off into the distance. “Hey, what’s up? You’re never this quiet.” Theo sighed, looking over at her. “I am… Conflicted, darling. My feelings are contradicting one another. I believe I have fallen for one of the popular boys.” He told her what he meant before she asked. “Oh. That-” She seemed bemused.

“It’s Sebestian. I like Sebastian Folis.” her eyes widened, mouth agape. “Close your mouth Haily. You look dumb.” She lunged at him, gripping his shoulders. Theo yelped, a soft whimper escaping him. “YOU LIKE HIM?! There’s a rumor that he kills every date he goes with! I mean he went out with Jessica last week, she’s now gone. So is Hillary, June, and Amika. He’s already dating Jade, that emo girl that every boy wants.” Theo sighed softly, pushing her off and ruffling his hair. He clicked his tongue, thinking. “I know. But the way he walks, how he talks, his style… God, have you smelt him? He walked past me, and his smell was intoxicating..”

Haily gripped his chin, forcing him to look up at her. “Listen to me, don’t go for it. Stalk his pages, write cute little love notes you’ll never give to him, hell, write fanfiction about him. But whatever you do, do not ask him out. I don’t want to lose you.” Theo waved her off as the teacher walked in.

The past week was… Long. He struggled with his emotions, before eventually just giving into his urges. He stalked all of his socials, drew him, learned all he could about that boy. Deep down, he felt ashamed for doing these things. But part of him loved stalking Sebastian. He even found the same cologne he used. He hated to admit it, but he felt… Obsessive. Every little thing he did felt like a dream. When they passed by in the halls, he felt his heart quicken. If he stared at him for too long in class and he would look, his face would flush red. It felt like a never ending cycle of desire and lust for one he could never have.

Home life was boring. He always felt alone. His parents were never home, either out of state for work, or working. They never had time for him or the dog. He pinned up another picture he had taken of Sebastian without his knowledge on his wall. He took off his hoodie, tossing it onto his chair. He slipped out of his clothes and into something more comfy, stretching with a groan. He had an off feeling. Almost as if he was being… Watched.

Everything went black. When Theo woke up, his limbs were restricted. He groaned, vision groggy. He immediately panicked, looking around. “Hello??” No sound. “Mh, you're awake my dear. Good.” That voice. He knew that voice. He looked over. Sebastian.

I hope you enjoyed !!!! Part two will be up whenever I get the motivation to write :3 Also, I might draw them !!! I'll take a picture if I do. Have fun, my darlings !!!

#obsessive love #stalker #murderer #stalking #smut #love #crazy love

0 notes

mioakem · 6 months

Text

I literally don’t have a type. Like I’ve liked white guys, black guys, Asian guys, brown guys. I’ve liked guys with black hair, brown hair, blondes, hell I’ve even liked gingers. I’ve liked jocks and band kids and skater boys. I’ve liked loud guys and quiet guys. I’ve liked funny guys and sensitive guys. Ive liked skinny guys, muscular guys, fat guys. Ive liked guys who r similar to me and guys who r completely different. I’m open to everyone

#except for short guys #and guys who r younger than me #but that’s abt it #there r some that I like better but…

1 note · View note

craftermane · 1 year

Text

Chokehold - Made For You (Part 3)

I decided to do this final chapter twice, like a branching path kind of thing. Hoping it's enjoyed.

His pleasure was cut short by Daddy narrowing his eyes at him. Daddy had been making him save up that load for weeks, and Jimmy hadn't been given permission to cum. And this wasn't the first time. It happened every few weeks. Jimmy was ashamed, and Daddy Jeff was thinking he really needed to do something about that little problem. At least the boy's throat tightened up nicely when he came. Still, they'd been in there for awhile, and it was about time they headed home. he boy was going to have a rough weekend, now. Jeff held Jimmy's face down until he could tell from the look in Jimmy's apologetic eyes he was about to pass out, and yanked him up by his hair at the last second. Jimmy, gasped in a deep breath of air, collapsing on the ground at his Daddy's feet. He wanted to apologise for being such a bad boy, but he didn't say a word. He started licking Jeff's dirty boots. Daddy always said a true apology was done by actions, not words.

Jeff appreciated the sight, and that his boy knew the right way to apologise, but there'd be time for that later. He pulled his boy up to his knees and gave a couple quick, sharp kicks to his boy's balls through the soggy jockstrap. The boy grimaced and was still breathing heavy, but he didn't recoil or flinch at the pain, and kept quiet. With the look he'd been given, he knew he wasn't to say another word until told otherwise. Jeff got his clothes back on. He pulled Jimmy to his feet and clipped a length of chain to his collar and Jeff's own belt. He looked harshly into Jimmy's eyes, and Jimmy averted his eyes in shame. Jeff leaned in close and growled in his ear. "Cumming without permission. You're gonna be punished for that, boy." Jimmy gulped nervously and nodded. "You're going to hate it. And you're going to worship me for it. I know best." Jeff could tell through the jock that his boy's nub was straining his cage again in spite of itself. He held back a sigh. He really needed to do something about that.

Eyes were staring and magic was swelling as the duo barged out of the washroom and marched back to their table. Jimmy especially had such a glow only I could see, much more vibrant than he'd had before. And it wasn't just with Jeff's desires. It looked like Jeff's recycled beer had also caused Jimmy's own desires to shape himself too. Hmmm, I hadn't even thought of that. I'll have to remember that for later. Jimmy had become quite the butterball, short, smooth and greasy. His jockstrap and too-short wifebeater were once white, but so thoroughly stained with piss and sweat and lube they didn't have a speck of white left on them. The waistband of the jock was tight around his waist, his exposed belly muffining out above it. Through the jock's dripping wet pouch, one could just make out the outline of the small chastity cage he was locked in. His flabby ass cheeks were massive, and the only hair on him was his short, greasy blond ponytail.

Standing a head and a half taller was his Daddy, Jeff. His open leather vest showed of his muscular, heavily carpeted chest, lustrous with sweat. His shoulders broad, his arms and hands thick and strong. He wasn't fat, but he had a nice bit of belly over his muscled stomach. His black jeans showed off his nice ass, thick legs, and the telltale outline of his massive flaccid cock. His head was a shiny bald, and his beard was thick and flawless. He was lightly greying, and he wore it well. I couldn't help but feel proud of my craft. They were nearly a perfect pair.

Jeff and Jimmy walked back to their table, where Jeff's half-finished beer was still waiting for them, long since gone warm. Jeff grabbed the glass and chugged down the rest quickly. He handed the glass to Jimmy, and Jimmy picked his own empty glass up as well, to take the two glasses back up to the bar. Jeff always stressed the importance of good manners. But with so many eyes on them, and the half a beer starting to work its magic on Jeff, he was about to take the full brunt of a lightning round of desires. And with the sheer amount of lust and desire in the air, mingling with the magicks, I could tell it wasn't just him that was going to be effected. A chain necklace found its way around Jeff's neck, from it hanging several keys. Master Jeff was a well-respected Dom and trusted keyholder in he local kink community> He showed off every key with pride, some by now permanently sealed in resin, but his boy's was set apart on a ring in the center. He smiled at his friends Dave and Chris as he passed by. Chris's key was one of the resined ones, a condition for Jeff being his then-boyfriend now-husband Dave's bull. Their relationship had never been better. Another few steps, another round of changes as Jeff's jeans became chaps and a leather jockstrap with a yellow stripe. Another few steps, and a paddle was hanging from his belt loop, with still-healing impact bruises forming on Jimmy's rear. A few of the bar patrons shifted in their seats, having a difficult time sitting down fully. Then a large bottle of lube appeared tucked into his waistband, and a black and red band of leather appeared on his left arm.

Master Jeff and boy Jimmy arrived at the bar, where Jimmy placed the empty glasses. Their favourite bartender, KC, took he glasses and thanked them. "Have a nice night."

Master Jeff chuckled. "Well, I will. But can't say the same for the boy." Jimmy looked down ashamed. "Came without permission again. But I have an idea." Jeff leaned in towards KC and whispered loud enough where he knew Jimmy would still hear it. "Got a new cage in today. Smaller and spiked on the inside. That outta teach that nub who owns it." Jimmy visibly blushed dark red. Master Jeff just grinned. "And silicone. Squeezeable. Gonna have a lot of fun with those spikes. And with no papers to grade this weekend, he's gonna have my full atention. See you next week." With that, he turned to the door, tugged at boy Jimmy's chain for him to follow, and the pair left the bar to head to their home.

0 notes

dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

Text

When Clary meets Ash (Fan Fic)

Hey :) this is how I imagine Clary and Ash's reunion (after the events of TDA) in the fic I am currently writing.

It's Chapter 5 of "The new Shadowhunter Academy" (Ao3 link to the full fic is here but don't click or skip Chapter 4 if you are not in for Kitty sexy times).

Thanks to @amchara for providing beta work and to @blaidr for letting me bounce my ideas off him.

To give you context, Ash met Dru in Faerie and they exchanged their numbers. Clary seized the opportunity to obtain Ash's number from Dru and write him the following text message:

“Hey, Ash. Dru gave me your number and please don’t be angry with her, I am very strong headed and there was absolutely no way she could have refused. I am Clary. You may have heard of me. I am your late father’s sister. That’s right, your aunt. You can call me whatever you like. Emma told me what you did in Thule, how you saved her. How you saved everyone. That was very brave of you. In a way, both of us were faced with a very difficult choice and made the same. Doing what we thought was right. I would love to meet you and tell you about my mother – your grandmother – or just talk about anything. It can be things totally unrelated to the Shadow world. Hobbies, movies, books and games we like. You can pick the time and place. Neutral territory. Hope to see you soon. Clary.”

This is what happens following the text:

*****

Clary wrapped her oversized woolen coat tighter around herself, as she made her way through the crowded streets of Manhattan. The route was familiar. She took it almost every week to meet up with her parabatai and have what they called their “mundane hour”. They talked about everything, from Clary’s art to the latest TV shows they had binge watched. No topic was off the table, save for anything related to Shadowhunter duties, and the Shadow world in general. As co-head of the New York Institute and since recently, artist owning her own gallery, her weeks were very busy so she looked forward to those rare and precious moments when she could escape with Simon. Her heart rate seemed to accelerate with each of her steps, and it didn’t help that she also had the strange feeling she was being observed. When she reached her destination, she took a deep breath and opened the double glass doors leading her inside the coffee shop. She and Simon had their regular routine there, and her gaze went automatically to their usual spot, near the large windows.

A broad-shouldered jock with a baseball jacket was already sitting there, speaking loudly to his cheerleader girlfriend. Two of his friends were standing next to him, mock punching his muscular arms. It made her realize that Ash probably never had this. High school friends and romance. Ash. She was still struggling to figure out why he had asked her to meet up at this place, at the exact time she usually got there with Simon. Was it him being considerate, a clumsy way to make her feel comfortable in familiar surroundings? Or was it a warning? I know your habits, and precisely where you take your coffee, when and with whom.

Her gaze swept over the crowded room - her heart seemed to have moved up her throat, the frantic pulse almost choking her - and zeroed on a tall, white blond haired boy ordering coffee at the counter, standing with his back to Clary. She sucked in a breath. Ash. He was fully clothed in black - Dru had told her that was his usual style - and huge headphones were covering his ears. She slowly and cautiously approached him and when she was close enough, put a tentative hand on his elbow. “Ash,” she whispered. The boy glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes quizzical and… it was not Ash.

She mumbled an apology.

“Clary,” said a voice coming from behind, and she froze. It was not a boy’s but a man’s voice, the sound beautiful and ethereal. She just stood there for a few seconds before she slowly turned.

What had she expected? Merely a taller version of the young boy with pointy ears and a sour expression that she had met three years before, dressed in the same refined velvet clothing threaded with gold that identified him as fey royalty?

If so, she had clearly been mistaken.

She blinked a few times to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks. He was tall, as she had anticipated (Sebastian had been after all). At least two heads taller than her and probably taller than Jace. But he was also very different from the Ash of her memories, from the sketches she had drawn of him after they had crossed paths. He had amazingly grown into his features, his face now the best combination of the Seelie Queen and Sebastian’s. As if he had picked the most alluring colours of the palette. And the result was… Stunning. Clary’s hand twitched, aching for a pencil.

He was not dressed in black, but in plain blue jeans and he had stuffed his hands in a very elegant, long pale gray cashmere coat. His white blond hair and pointy ears were concealed under a deep green beanie, the same colour as the scarf around his neck.

He arched a silvery eyebrow at Clary, his expression bemused, and she realized she was staring.

“Clary, seriously?” he said, his gently scolding tone at odds with his enchanting voice. “This guy isn't even half as good looking as me." He glanced pointedly at the patron in question, who was gaping at him, and shrugged. "No offense, dude,” Ash added as an afterthought.

He turned his attention to the barista. She was beautiful, dark skinned with long braided hair and pouty lips. “Hello, gorgeous. We’ll have a double espresso with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon for the lady and a plain black coffee for me.”

Clary stifled a gasp and tried to hide her discomfort. He knew exactly how she took her coffee, and she didn’t know how she felt about this.

The pretty barista nodded eagerly, her cheeks red and her big dark eyes dreamy as she stared at Ash. “Why don’t you… Go sit at your table and I’ll bring you your beverages when they are ready?” the girl offered enthusiastically. The long line of patrons that had formed behind Clary and Ash would probably disagree but she didn’t seem to care.

“That would be lovely,” Ash said in his euphonious voice. “And so are you.” He winked at her, and Clary wondered if she would need to catch her while she swooned. He paid before Clary even had a chance to reach for her purse.

“Come,” he said in a commanding tone, as he made his way to Clary and Simon's usual table. This was unnerving.

The jock seated there paused in the middle of his conversation with his girlfriend when he saw Ash stand casually next to him. Clary braced herself for a heated exchange, but she should have known better.

“You want to sit somewhere else,” Ash said evenly, one hand inside the pocket of his designer coat and the other stretched out in front of him as he studied his fingernails.

“I want to sit somewhere else,” the jock repeated in a monotonous voice, his gaze blank. He stood, as if in a trance, and his girlfriend and friends followed him, puzzled, to an empty table at the far end of the room.

Ash drew a chair for Clary and she sat. He did the same, opposite her. He pulled off his beanie, and shook his silvery hair, like a crown of liquid white gold. He wasn’t dressed for the part but he had never looked more like a prince.

“Ash… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Your mind tricks.”

He cocked his head and observed her, his face unreadable, for what seemed like an endless minute.

“You’ve been my aunt for what? Five minutes? And you’re already trying to boss me around?”

“I am not trying to boss you around, Ash. Simply asking you not to abuse your powers.”

A shadow flickered across his green eyes.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Clary. I spend much more time and energy holding back than using my powers. If I did let go, trust me, you would know.”

Clary opened her mouth to reply but was cut short as the barista popped in front of them and placed the mugs on the table. She slid a paper napkin to Ash, her phone number scribbled on it. Clary tried not to roll her eyes, as Ash flashed his dazzling smile at the girl, who almost tripped on her own feet as she returned to the counter.

Clary lifted her cup to her lips and paused, as she caught sight of the cinnamon powder floating on the surface. She put it down.

“What about this?" She pointed at her coffee mug and waved around them. “ What is it, if not a show of power? What are you trying to tell me? That you know everything about me? That you’ve been spying on me?”

Ash pulled on a fake shocked expression, mouth open and green eyes wide in mock innocence. “Spying on you? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Ash. The evidence is right here.” She lifted her cup abruptly, and hot liquid splashed out of it. “You know exactly how I like it. When I take it, where I take it.”

Ash’s mouth twitched. “Where did you pick up these lines? From the script of some lame X-rated movie?”

“Adult movies have storylines?” Clary asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Of course they do. Where do you think the Grimm Brothers took their inspiration from?”

He grabbed the paper napkin and started mopping the coffee she had spilled on the table. The blue ink faded and the barista’s phone number vanished.

“You lost that girl’s number,” Clary noted.

Ash shrugged. “I have a girlfriend now.”

Right. Drusilla Blackthorn. From the moment she had met her, Clary had known that the smart and quiet turquoise-eyed girl would someday turn heads.

Clary knew that Dru hadn’t really confirmed their relationship status yet, but it was neither the time nor place to broach the subject with Ash. She was, after all, on a mission to win over her nephew and had not been doing a very good job so far.

A young lanky boy with pink hair and piercings covering his skin walked by and dropped a glossy flyer of the upcoming Mortal Instruments concert on the table between them. Clary hid a smile. It reminded her...

“I have something for you.” She said as she fumbled inside her bag and took out the drawing she had made of Jocelyn, Luke and herself, in front of Luke’s upstate farm (before it was turned into the new Shadowhunter Academy) and laid it on the table.

Ash looked at it hesitantly, like a kid who really wanted to grab the candy but was afraid there was a mouse trap under it. He hunched his shoulders forward and clasped his hands under the table, as if to keep himself from temptation.

“I recognize your art. I like it. I also appreciate Julian Blackthorn’s but I may not be as objective where… one of the subjects of his drawings is concerned.”

“You’ve seen my art?”

He leaned back on his chair, crossing his long arms behind his head. Somehow, he managed to make it look graceful.

“Which Shadowhunter hasn’t? I noticed that you often drew Jace with angel wings.”

“Yes. That’s how he used to appear to me. In recurring dreams.”

“Was it?”

“Was it what?”

“Jace. In your dreams.”

“Who else would it be?”

“Someone who looks like him, but who actually has wings.”

“You mean Kit.”

Ash shrugged. “It would make more sense.” His gaze flickered back to the drawing, which still lay on the table, untouched. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“So do you”, Clary blurted before she could take it back.

Ash shot her an unfathomable look.

“How is she?” She asked.

“You mean, the Seelie Queen? You tell me. You must see her more often than I do.”

“Well, not really. I am not that involved in politics, even though Alec is Consul. Julian Blackthorn is the one who deals with her most of the time. She appears to have... a fondness for him.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Clary’s mouth quirked up.

“I am glad you are getting along with the Blackthorns. They are such an incredibly strong and talented family.”

“They are.” He turned his face away, but not before she could see the expression of longing plain on his delicate features.

She swallowed. She was painfully reminded that Ash never had a shot at a happy family. Born of a political union, and dragged here and there, though interdimensional portals, by people more interested in his powers than anything else he had to offer as a person. And judging by how Dru talked about Ash, he had a lot to offer.

“I imagine it must have been awful living in Thule… But what you did for Emma and Julian back there... if it hadn’t been for you…”

“I don’t want to talk about Thule,” he interrupted her. “Can I borrow this?” He asked, his long fingers brushing the Mortal Instruments concert flyer.

“Sure.”

She watched as he started folding the paper, realizing with a jolt of surprise that he was making an origami and wondering what shape would come out of it. It was odd seeing him doing such an innocuous thing, as if he was not a faerie prince with a heavy heritage and a giant target on his back, but an ordinary boy. She remembered what Emma had told her of her encounter with Ash in a nightclub in Thule. The way he had shown no interest, playing a video game in a corner of the room, while Sebastian was committing atrocities. Had he really been as indifferent as he looked?

“Ash, we don’t need to talk about Thule if you don’t want to, but if I can help you… If there is anything I can do-”

“Why?” He looked up sharply. “Are you able to create a rune that could undo the things I saw?” His tone was even, but his delicate fingers had started slightly shaking and he suddenly dropped the paper - his work unfinished - to fold his hands under the table to hide it. From that moment, she knew.

“No…” Clary said, drawing the word out. “But trust me, coming from someone whose memory has been tampered with... it’s not a solution.”

“I said undo. Not forget.” He snapped. “I am not such a coward that I would choose blissful ignorance over knowledge.”

He caught himself, blinking, then clenched his jaw and looked away. As if he was ashamed he had allowed himself to show any emotion at all. But Clary had managed to catch a glimpse of what lay underneath the mask and wanted nothing more than to see the rest of it.

“I don’t think you are a coward,” she said.

He looked over at her, a silver eyebrow raised. “I let it all happen, didn’t I? I didn’t lift a finger.”

“Because you couldn’t. Sebastian would have killed you. And you, Ash, are just like me. A survivor.”

He snorted and crossed his arms in front of him, leaning back on his chair. He had stretched out his long legs and Clary realized that he was tapping a foot nervously next to hers.

“Wrong. I could have. I chose not to. Because I am selfish. I don’t care about other people’s fate.”

His face split into a lazy, wicked grin. Clary could see Sebastian’s influence in his leer, but she wouldn't let it deceive her. Just as she wasn't fooled by his laid-back demeanor.

“I think it’s the opposite, actually. I think it’s because you care too much. It’s not death you are afraid of. The thing is, you have such a tender heart, you need to protect it from an affliction far greater than any physical pain you could endure. So you’d rather lie to yourself and pretend you feel nothing.”

From the long conversations she had with Tessa about her ancestors, Clary knew of a Fairchild boy who had been too compassionate for his own good. And he had been surrounded by loyal friends and loving parents, even though he had shut himself, putting on a facade while burying his grief in alcohol. Ash never had that kind of support. Throughout his life, he was left to figure things out on his own. If he was as empathetic as Clary thought he was, Ash probably had no other choice but to deal with his sensitivity alone. It was a miracle he had turned out the way he did.

“You have a lot of imagination,” he said after a moment. The ghost of a smile was still playing on his lips but something had passed across his eyes. “Then again, you are an artist. You seek beauty in the ugly. You find colors on a blank page. I admire your faith, but in this case, there is nothing to see.”

Clary jutted her chin stubbornly and they held each other’s gaze - his green eyes glittering in amusement and hers dead serious - in a staring contest.

“Still,” he said when he finally broke, first. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I am sorry.”

Clary softened. “Don’t be. I am glad you are finally showing your true self. You don’t need to wear your mask around me, Ash.”

He chuckled. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

“It’s funny that you would quote Oscar Wilde.”

“And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Just another thing you share in common with a Fairchild I heard stories about.”

“Clary,” he said in a gently reproving tone. Her name sounded like a caress in his melodious voice. “Are you being purposefully cryptic to arouse my curiosity?”

She moved closer, so she was sitting at the edge of her chair, and leaned forward, hands folded over the table.

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she whispered. “Let me in. Shed all pretense.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he whispered back in confidence, leaning closer still so that their faces were inches from each other. “It’s like fabric that burns and melts into skin. If you peel it off, the skin goes with it.” He grimaced, reclining on his chair. “It won’t be a pretty sight. I don’t think even my level of hotness could sustain it.”

“Ash…” Clary said, sensing that she finally had an opening to say what she had been brooding over ever since she had learnt of Ash’s return from that forsaken land. “I wanted to tell you… I am sorry.”

Ash’s green eyes widened.

“Sorry for what?”

“I should have looked for you. I should not have given up on you.”

Ash’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. Seb-...Ash, we...”

“What did you just call me?” He snarled. His eyes snapped back to her, suddenly cold as ice.

“Sorry, Ash. What I meant to say is… we are family."

“I already have a family.”

“I know that you care about Janus…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he cut her off.

“And we don’t need to. I just wanted you to know… I understand that he’s been like a father to you, and I don’t plan on moving against him, unless he strikes first or makes it impossible for me to overlook his actions.”

“Because of me?”

“Of course, because of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Ash… You are my nephew, my blood. You may not feel the same way about me, but that’s how I feel about you. I want you to know that, if things go wrong, for any reason, you can always turn to me. My home is your home.”

“What you are actually telling me is, Ash, if I kill the one person who has ever really cared about you - and it might definitely come to that - you can always grab my hand, still sticky and warm from his blood. Well, how nice of you. To quote Oscar Wilde again, true friends stab you in the front.”

“That’s not what I am-”

“Clary,” Ash interrupted as he stood. “Do not make me choose between you and him. Because…” Looking down at her, he swallowed hard, as if the words pained him. “Because you will lose.”

She knew exactly what he was telling her. Because they were the same in that way. Ruthless, even with their own blood, when it came to protecting their loved ones. If I had to choose between killing him and you, I would not hesitate. I would end you. Yet, despite his cold statement, despite his sharp and resolved tone, his eyes seemed to carry a deep regret.

“Ash, I understand what you're saying and I swear I am not trying to make you pick a side”, Clary said, suddenly desperate, as she mirrored him and stood. “Please don’t go. I am sorry I brought it up. We will stop talking about him. Starting now.”

“This was a bad idea. Never try to contact me again.” He drew his green beanie from the pocket of his coat and put it back on. He turned and strode toward the exit. She grabbed the family drawing that still lay on the table, stuffed it in her bag and followed him, half-running, as he was quickly losing here with his long legs.

“Ash! Please. Give me another chance. I am so sorry.”

He paused right outside the coffee shop, closed his eyes and sighed. “Don’t be. It didn’t change what I had planned to tell you anyway. I don’t want to know anything about you or your mother. I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, and he whipped his head around to look at her in surprise. “I know you were under house arrest. You probably had to break out of whichever place they were holding you in to come here. You wouldn’t have done that unless you wanted something. Something from me. Tell me, Ash. Tell me what it is.”

He turned his face away so she could not see his expression. A full minute passed and she had almost given up on receiving an answer, when he finally spoke.

“My fa… Sebastian. How different do you think he would have been if not for the demon blood?”

“Oh. Ash.” she whispered. She brought her knuckle against her sternum instinctively, as if to cover the gaping whole in her chest. “I saw him, you know. The brother I should have had. The father that should have raised you. If only for a few minutes.” She paused to bite back tears. “In those few minutes, he told us how to get rid of the Endarkened and said he was sorry. It’s not much to go for, but… that’s not all. I have recurring dreams of the green eyed boy that was robbed from us. And I know in my heart he would have been the best brother a sister could ever dream of.”

He was still looking away and she could see the sharp line, the stubborn set of his jaw. She wanted to hug him, to tell him she would not fail him again. That they could mourn her brother, his father, together. That he didn’t need to bear the anger at everything that was wasted alone.

He finally turned to look at her. A tear had escaped to run freely down his cheek. He had completely shed off his mask, and what Clary saw was like a stab in her gut. She shivered. Wordlessly, he reached for his deep green scarf and tied it gingerly around her neck. The way Sebastian had when they had walked down the streets of Paris. Ash looked nothing like her brother had then. His green eyes held an infinite sadness that spoke of a grief deeper, older than the short years of his life.

“It doesn’t change anything.” He said - she hadn’t imagined his beautiful voice could sound so hollow - and turned to leave.

“Ash, wait.” She grabbed him by the elbow and he froze. His eyes widened as his gaze zeroed on the fingers covering his coat, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She realized she had never touched him before.

“Clary, what do you want from me?” He asked in a tired voice.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“Trust me, you don’t. I am not the brother who was stolen from you. I cannot replace him. If anything, I am just like Sebastian was before me... my father’s broken toy. There is no way to fix me.”

“I don’t believe it for a second,” she said, almost frantic. “And I don’t want to find my brother's replacement, I want to get to know you! Ash. The real Ash.”

“I already told you. That’s not happening. Don’t ever try to contact me again. I am serious.”

“So that’s it?” She tried not to sound too whiny but panic was eating away at her stomach and she thought she would throw up. “You went through all this trouble spying on me, learning how I take my coffee to simply disappear from my life from one moment to the next?”

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unfathomable. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“I was not spying on you, Clary. I was merely following your stalker.”

“What? You were… protecting me?”

“Take care of yourself, Clary.”

He said as he stepped away from her and vanished into the crowd.

****

Clary threw herself in Jace’s arms as soon as he opened the door to their bedroom at the New York Institute. He froze, then started stroking her hair in a soothing gesture.

“Clary, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Tell me, Clary. What is it?”

She pulled away and wiped tears with the back of her hand. Jace’s face was a mask of shock. Clary couldn’t blame him. She almost never cried.

“I messed up.”

“What did you mess up?”

She walked to the bed and sat on the mattress. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his reaction. “Ash. I met up with him earlier today.”

Jace tensed and his hands clenched into fists. “WHAT- Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have insisted on coming.”

“Damn right, I would have. And I would have been right, too. Look at you, you look miserable.”

“It’s my fault,” she said in a small voice. “I pushed him too far.”

Jace sighed and came to sit next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I am sure you did nothing wrong, Clary.”

“I thought- When I showed him the drawing… the way he looked at it, Jace. He is not indifferent. He cares.”

“What drawing?”

“The one I made of the family,” she said absently, as she grabbed her bag and started fumbling inside.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The drawing wasn’t there. Peeking out in its stead, and folded out of the flyer of the Mortal Instruments concert, were origami faerie wings. The Fairchild family symbol.

54 notes · View notes

btsinwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 1: The Beginning

A Loki fanfiction!

Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

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

It’s your third week back in school and you're slumped over a tower of textbooks as some kind of makeshift pillow. Your head rests on the 394th page of ��The Dream Oracle” where you’ve begun to drool. You raise a hand to wipe it away, which takes up nearly as much energy as trying to stay awake.

It was cold in the dark.

Chills ran up your arms, from your fingertips to your neck as you floated through the darkness. It was frightening the first few times you dreamt of it but now it was familiar. The cavern formed slowly as your eyes adjusted to the minimal light emitted by a fire below you. Small sticks and papers created a meager flame which reflected off the black pool of water you looked into. You always wondered who made the fire, but there was never anyone there.

In the centre of the cavern was a small lake, its ripples moved like serpents. On queue, your body flew over to the middle of the lake and dove in. You swam - more like sunk - to the bottom. It may have enveloped you in utter darkness, but you saw the glow. The bluish light of the object drew you in like a moth to a flame and you reached out for it. Once again, you were thrown out of the lake just as you were about to touch it.

You looked around at the empty cavern and noticed the shadows moving. This was new. Usually, you woke up as soon as the lake threw you out.

Near the shore, by a dangerous jut of rock, there was a man. He was tall, with raven black hair and a proud nose. His expression was one of wonder and fear. There was a green light that emerged from his hands and he waved this light in front of him and beside him, almost erratically, as if he was warning someone - or something - to stay away.

“Don’t come near me!” he shouted. It echoed through the cavern.

You came closer and recoiled at what he was speaking to. Every dark shadow was, in fact, a body. The green light that the man emitted showed their decaying, pale faces. These bodies moved towards him. Not a sound, but each expression was contorted painfully. Their bony hands reached out to him, and he threw a green ball of fire at them. Some flew backwards into the lake, but there were so many.

They surrounded him. You saw him put up the fight of his life, and yet they came closer still. Until he had nowhere to run. You reached out to try to help him, but your body was already being pulled away. The last thing you heard was him scream your name, “Freya!”

Hands slapped onto the desk, and your head bounced on the pages.

“My god, have you been sleeping here this whole time?” An annoyingly familiar voice said. “You wouldn’t believe it! They’re finally getting a replacement for Professor Rattowl.”

It took several seconds for you to remember where you were. You lifted your head and look into a pair of inquisitive brown eyes and an aloof expression.

Her hair was braided on the sides and drawn into a high ponytail. Her robes were wrinkled as usual. “Valkyrie, how did you find me in the Hufflepuff common room? I specifically told Thomas to throw you off.” Your voice was thick with sleep.

Valkyrie snorted. “Thomas is a fool for a flirty conversation. You’d think that boy had never had a wank before…”

The memory of the dream hit you, and your heart sank. “Valkyrie, I saw something.”

She glanced at you and then to the wall of the hallway. A long shadow approached swiftly. “Oh shit, the prefect!”

“Quick! Hide!” You said to Valkyrie, pointing her to the coat closet.

A gleaming head of blonde hair turned around the corner and walked towards you. His eyebrows were raised, and he adjusted his rectangular glasses, glaring at you. You tried not to look guilty.

“Eves, what are you doing? This is a quiet area, and I heard voices.” he walked around your desk, looking around suspiciously.

“I must have fallen asleep. I had a poor sleep last night so…”

“Hmmm,” he said, walking near the coat closet.

You held your breath as he reached for the brass door handle. “You know we don’t allow any other houses in our quarters, Eves.”

“Of course.”

He turned to you, reaching away from the handle. “Then you also should know we don’t condone dirtying the sacred pages of our texts,” he said, gesturing at your books with a frown. “Clean this up and head to the Great Hall. Headmistress Frigga has announcements to make.”

He left, adjusting his glasses again but with his shoulders straightened out as if he had done a good job. You wondered if he would pat himself in the back afterwards.

Valkyrie all but crashed out of the closet and mocked Gerald. “Sacred texts! What a prat.”

You chuckled as she took a chair beside you. “Sacred or not, this damned thing cost me twenty galleons!” You wiped the drool away with the sleeve of your robe. The inside was a warm yellow. You glanced at Valkyrie. “How do you keep sneaking into our common room?”

She winked at you with a mischievous smile. “I have my ways, my sweet innocent Hufflepuff darling,” she said, reaching out and patting you on the head. “I wouldn’t dare want to corrupt your purity with treasonous talk.”

You punched her in the arm. “You are a jock in the land of intellectuals,” you said with a smirk, glancing at her red and gold tie.

She linked her arm through yours and dragged you away from the desk. “Alright alright, miss intellectual, now that you’ve stopped drooling, let’s go eat.”

***

The great hall was washed in the warm light of the candles that hung beautifully in the air above you. It was a sight that had never ceased to amaze you, no matter how many times you saw it. The flames flickered in a soft dance. You followed the path of candles over to the head table where all your professors sat.

Professor Odinson was there, with his chiseled youthful face that made all the ladies, Valkyrie in particular, swoon. He was a handsome man, though he did not occupy your thoughts as often as he did for others. Beside him was Professor Sif, laughing humorously at something Professor Odinson said. Then there was Professor Fandral nodding and smiling at Professor Hogun - whom you guessed was discussing the riveting growth cycles of the mandrake.

Headmistress Frigga was in the middle, in her silvery blue robes with sequins sewn into intricate patterns. Her aura was one of a Queen, with a gentle and kind face. On her one side there was an empty seat and on the other side was Heimdall, the divination professor, with whom she was in a deep discussion with. His sunset coloured eyes drifted around the room before settling on you. He always knew. You smiled back and waved at him. He nodded, though his expression was strained, perhaps even troubled.

For a moment you wondered if he knew what you had dreamed. Heimdall was one of the greatest seers of your time, and you happened to be his favourite student. He already knew of your repetitive dreams regarding the cavern, but you needed to tell him about the strange development - and the mysterious man you saw. Most of the time your dreams were fuzzy, but you remembered his face with an aggressive lucidity. Blue eyes that reflected the green magic in his hands before they disappeared into darkness remained on your mind. You took a deep breath and pushed it away.

“Did they already do the first years?” You said aloud to your table.

Mo, a fellow seventh year Hufflepuff, nodded. “Yep, and I guessed about 25/30, not bad, eh?”

You smiled at him and turned around to Valkyrie, who was right behind you, seated at the Gryffindor table. She winked at you when delicious food marvellously populated the table and you all tucked in. She filled her plate and then roughly rocked Mo to the side and sat down beside you.

“What were you saying about Rattowl?” You said, biting into a chicken hand pie. The rich flavour of creamy peas and carrots filled your mouth, and you reveled in it for a brief moment.

Valkyrie had half a mouthful of sausage and chewed loudly. “Well, it’s been what? A month since he croaked?”

A Hufflpuff girl across from you both, Nila, balked at Valkyrie. “How can you say that? He was...killed.” She could barely say the last word.

Valkyrie gave her a look. “What? It don’t make no difference, does it?”

Nila huffed indignantly. Mo interjected. “Well, it’s not every day a professor disappears for three weeks, only to be found ripped apart in the Forbidden Forest.”

You all wrinkled your noses in a few seconds of awkward silence. He was right. It was a bizarre and terrible thing to have happened. You had no love for Professor Rattowl. He was a cranky old man with awful manners, but he did not deserve such a fate.

Valkyrie said, “Well I heard that the Headmistress’s son is going to be the new potions teacher.”

You raised your brows. “Professor Odinson has a brother?”

Valkyrie’s eyes lit up at the mention of him. “If there are two Thor Odinson’s, then I will die this very moment.”

You, Mo, and Nila rolled your eyes at her when the doors crashed open in an echoing sound. All the chatter in the Great Hall was silenced when a lean and tall figure in a black cloak strolled into the room. His languid pace revealed a streak of arrogance - or confidence - as he walked down the hall, towards the head table. He walked between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and slowly removed his hood.

You audibly gasped when you saw the raven haired man with his high cheekbones and proud nose. His blue eyes snapped towards you, and you felt your face heat up in seconds. He kept his eyes on you briefly before looking back at the head table. You breathed again once he was well past you.

Valkyrie looked at you questioningly. She whispered, “what’s going on?”

You could not take your eyes off of him and whispered back, “later.”

Everybody at the table rose, and Headmistress Frigga spoke with her wand pointed at her neck. “We will never forget our dear Professor Hubert Rattowl and the legacy he leaves here. The tragedy of his passing will remain a bitter memory in the long colourful history of Hogwarts. It has been a terrible time trying to fill this role, and our surprise guest has been gracious enough to accept our invitation. Professor Loki Laufeyson’s entrance may give you a taste into his exciting curriculum as the new Potions Master.” She gave him a warm smile.

He walked over to his seat and placed his hands on the table to look out at the students. There was something both inviting and dangerous about him. You could not look away.

He smiled widely and raised his hands. “Your potions saviour is here!”

The students clapped and eventually broke into applause. The Slytherin table was particularly ecstatic. There was no mistaking what house he belonged to. He looked at every table with a wide grin, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. They rested on you and your heart stopped. They flickered away, and he moved on before sitting down as the Headmistress continued her announcements.

Your hands were still clasped together in mid clap as you looked at the same man that was in your dream. His screams echoed in your mind and you wondered if this was all a nightmare. Regardless, it was going to be an interesting semester.

#loki #loki x reader #loki fics #loki (marvel)#loki fanfiction #loki imagine #loki series #mcu loki #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #hogwarts au #thor odinson #valkyrie #Professor Loki #loki moodboard #loki of hogwarts #norse mythology

73 notes · View notes

lifeexperience · 3 years

Text

MariBat March 2021 - New Start

Masterlist - Previous

Bruce was nervous.

It was clear to his sons. To Selina. To Bilal.

More precisely, he was a nervous wreck.

“Can you sit down or I can break your legs for you?” Jason pushed him into one of the chairs in front of the computer with a rude move.

“Hood, please…” Dick began standing up but was stopped by Damian.

“No!” the youngest said with a smug glee. “He is right. It’s not the first time when Father is meeting a blood child not knowing about him beforehand.”

“Yes.” Jason nodded in agreement. “He already has practice, so I don’t understand why he is so pissy about it. Like some teen girl in front of her first jock crush.” He adjusted his straps again. A nervous habit. “Babyba…”

“Kitten.” Selina cut in sternly. “He is a kitten.”

His second son rolled his eyes. “The kitten is already a superhero with an established badass partner. He has good emotional control, not like us. And he inherited more from your fiancé than you.” he listed more calmly as he glanced at the glaring Damian. Bruce sighed. Jason always loved to annoy his brothers, but here it could be really dangerous.

“Master Jason, I hope you don't want to be left out of the next month's babysitting routine.” they heard Alfred wise voice from the speakers.

Jason immediately started backing up in his words and trying to sooth out any ruffles in Robin’s uniform. They also heard Tim’s sniggering through the static noise. So he also was there. And if Tim was stalking on them then it was sure this evening’s record would end up with Barbara and the girls.

Bruce didn’t know it was a good or a bad thing. The girls could be more ruthless than the boys. And there were Damian and Jason.

And a new son.

A son.

He didn’t even know if they would learn his identity today. Like Ladybug already found out about them, but it could be dangerous at any time if they akumatized. And if he remembered correctly Ladybug and Chat Noir didn’t even know each other under the mask.

Here comes a headache.

Again.

He stood up to go for a pill. Fortunately Bilal had a really equipped health aid section in his basement. There were a lot of different painkillers. Even some charm from the lady luck herself for magical indicated problems. Those children were indeed badasses.

As the silent minute was broken with a quiet click, every one of them focused on the door.

They were here.

The entrance was pushed open slowly. Bruce heard fast murmuring from the Parisian heroes as they walked in. Ladybug was holding something in her hands while Chat Noir - his son - carefully closed the door.

“Heyya, little bro!” Jason couldn't restrain himself for more. Dick just shook his head resignedly then smiled welcomingly.

“We are happy you two came.” he stepped up and showed them further in the base. Damian growled a little then stopped as he caught Bruce disapproving frown.

He really loved his children, but they were handful.

“What is this?” Dick leaned closer to the bundle in Ladybug’s hands.

The two french looked at each other, and the girl held out a box instead to him. It was a patisserie box, inside a few different cakes and pastry. However her other hand was still full on with some dotted clothes.

“And that?” Jason pointed at it curiously.

The heroine looked down and blinked up shyly. A spreading blush grew from her neck to her ears. “We found him in a rain gutter when... There was no nest, so…”

In the red bundle was a little bird with ruffled feathers. His sons watched it in awe. It had a beautiful blue-grey and yellow plumage with a hint of white and black. For the situation it was in, the little bird was really calm and as it tilted its head, a little curious.

“It’s a Parus Major.” Damian jumped at his feet and ran swiftly to the animal. Of course he would, Bruce thought, watching with a smile as his youngest got excited about the little bird. “Mother never let me foster any Parus Major in the....” he cut abruptly off. Jason and Dick changed a meaningful glance before started asking questions about the bird. Sometimes Chat Noir chirped in shyly while his partner handed the animal over to Damian.

Lost in their conversation the boys didn’t even notice as Ladybug skipped away to the adults. Or more adults than Red Hood and Nightwing ever were.

“Monsieur Batman, Madam Kyle! Nightrunner!” she nodded in greetings to each of them.

“Little Bug, I have to say, you are a little badass!” Selina opened her mouth before Bruce could say something. He also won a disapproving look from his financé as she praised the increasingly embarrassed Parisian.

Bruce turned to Bilal for some help about what he did again, however the vigilante shook his head negatively. And of course, he couldn’t ask Alfred about it, because he was only in the comms and not here in person. Great.

“I am not here for the pleasantries, Madam!” the girl said after gulping her own bashfulness. Her voice was not that hard but carried a little stern edge. Bruce knew this voice, he used so much sometimes almost forgot to not use it. It mirrored his Batman voice.

“Please explain!” he straightened himself out in the chair.

For a long moment Ladybug looked at his cowl like searching for something then took a big breath. She glanced back at the boys and nodded to herself as they were all absorbed in their own conservation.

“Chat Noir is hurt. He is good at hiding it, but he is hurt. And if he isn’t ready to show himself to you, then… I think you have to step back a little.” She was confident. She stood beside his partner’s decision with her full heart and mind.

“I don’t want…”

“I know.” she interrupted him. “He wants you to learn about his new family too. But his life… Our life is not that easy.” She blinked some. “If we are akumatized the world ends. And we can’t let that happen.”

Bruce vaguely sensed how both Selina and Bilal tensed up at once. He also felt how his own muscles froze up to the indication of a new world-ending scenario. Of course, they already knew about the possibility, but to say it out loud from a teen girl’s mouth. It was another matter.

They had to be careful and follow the boy's wants.

“And I have to warn you about your identity. I didn’t say anything in the police station, and you two were really lucky that Chat Noir didn’t notice Madam Kyle. But you have to be more careful.” she explained, frowning. “I am not the only observant person in this city.”

Oh shit!

They didn’t even think about it at that moment. If Ladybug didn’t know about him being Bruce Wayne, that would have been a rookie mistake. No, not had been. It was a rookie mistake.

And he hated to be a rookie.

“By the way, it’s a common occurrence to fight with a fucking hydra?” Jason’s voice broke them out of their tense state.

“Language!” Bruce and Ladybug hissed at the same time with the same tone. Again.

The boys all looked them with surprised eyes then faced back with Chat Noir. Bruce kind of saw how they all debated how the heroine wasn’t his child. It was written in their masked face, and he knew them very well to recognize their mind’s logic.

Dick wanted to shoot sister-rights, while Damian was getting angry again. And Jason… Jason just looked too smug for his own good.

“If we are… kind of there…” the Parisian cat started shakily refocusing everybody. “I would like to say something.”

Fortunately besides Bruce, Dick also noticed Damian’s instinct and grabbed the boy by his shoulder and adjusted the little bird’s nest, distracting him at the same time. So without one batarang they all could concentrate back on Chat Noir.

Bruce tried to look encouragingly, however his new child only glanced at him for moments. He clearly waited for Ladybug’s approval and not his.

The girl searched for something in her partner’s eyes in the same way as not long ago she searched in his soul. It was kind of disturbing how it felt like she saw his mind like an open book. It was surely a magical skill.

When she finally nodded, Chat Noir looked around again. He is scared. His hands shook and his unnatural pupils were dilated. His closed posture said he wanted to be anywhere else than here. Bruce almost stood up to stop him whatever he wanted to do.

However he was late.

With a murmur and a big green flash, on the place of Chat Noir stood a thin boy with blond hair and green eyes.

“My… my name is Adrien Ag... Agreste.”

In the room almost everyone forgot how to breath. At least Bruce was close to drown without his oxygen intake.

This boy. His son. Adrien.

He stepped closer to him while trying to say something. Anything. Reassure him. Greet him. Introduce himself and his - Adrien’s - siblings.

However Jason was faster. “You are that perfume guy!”

@maribatmarch-2k21

To be continued in May...

#Maribatmarch2021 #maribat march #maribat #bio dad bruce wayne #batfam #ml fanfic #chat noir #ladybug #2021

112 notes · View notes

writings-by-blondie · 3 years

Text

The One That Got Away

Ghost x Reader (Chapter I)

You were in your parents home, getting unpacked and prepping your room for stay over holidays. Dusting around some of family pictures and smiling, remembering each and every moment they were taken at.

You didn't visit your old home town much since your work was important and you didn't get much free time, so this holiday season you decided to go back, spend some time with your parents and your siblings who were yet to arrive.

Snow was already falling slowly and lazily outside so the holiday spirit was at its peak.

As you were strolling over some of the old highschool books you noticed a dusty highschool yearbook, it was from your tenth grade.

You sat on your squeaky bed and opened it, gliding your eyes over some familiar and not so familiar faces.

Your eyes stopped at one particular name and your heart felt heavy, beating fast in your chest you bit your lip and blushed a bit, his name revoking some old memories. His picture was missing, but in your mind you could see him clearly, every single line of his face..

"Simon Riley"

———————————————————————

It hot outside, even the breeze of September was warm. You wore your school uniform, having your trusty black school bag hanging on your shoulder, your honey blonde hair tied up in a bit messy ponytail with a little bow clip on the side of your head.

It was your first day of tenth grade and you already missed the summer and vacation remembering how well filled your free time was, every day being out with your friends, laughing, taking pictures and having pool parties.

You took a deep sigh and looked around the high school yard your eyes searching for your best friend, she was late as usual so you decided to sit on one of the free benches near the parking lot.

Slowly folding your skirt, not wanting it to get all messed up, you sat down, crossing your legs and placing your bag next to you, saving place for your friend when she eventually arrives.

Loud sound of some kind of engine caught your attention and your blue eyes darted towards the parking lot.

A guy in black leather jacket that had British flag on shoulder, and dark blue jeans that had a few cuts parked his black big bike. He had his helmet on, it was black aswell, with some stickers of skulls on the side.

He turned the engine off and got off the bike, putting the brake down as he did. The bike was one of them oldies, but it was shining on the sun, it looked dangerous.

He removed the hamlet now, and you could clearly see his face.

He was about your age, even though he was tall and kinda bulked up. He had brownish hair and soft face lines, but before you could see his eyes he reached out to his pocket and thew dark "Ray Ban" shades over them.

You realised that you were staring now at this point, and not wanting to be caught you quickly turned around, pulling out your cell and going into your gallery, pretending to be looking at something.

But, in a matter of mere seconds your bag was in your lap, and the guy was now sitting next to you not giving single care that you were obviously saving the seat for someone.

You darted your eyes towards him but he was unbothered, instead he reached for his pocket on the jacket, and pulled out pack of cigars and zippo lighter, taking one cig between his lips and lighting it up, inhaling the smoke deeply before he returned the lighter into his pocket.

You were now furious, it was obviously prohibited to smoke on school grounds.

"Excuse me, could you put that smoke out? You are killing me along with yourself"

You said with stern and annoyed voice, he looked at you and smirked, raising his eyebrow. He even chew a gum, to make him look more like an complete asshole.

Boy leaned in towards you, slowly, and you blushed leaning back away from him. Next thing you knew you were choking in the ciggarete smoke that he blew into your face, laughing at the face you made along with the coughing sounds.

"How rude! You really don't have any shame!" You screamed at him now, furiously , which only ignited louder laugher inside of the boy.

You furrowed your eyebrows and stood up, taking your school bag and throwing it over your shoulder

"You have no manners and you are such a simpleton!" You spat the words, turning around on your heels, and almost jogging into the school hoping to never see him again.

After few overly boring classes, it was lunch time and you were in canteen with your friend, waiting in queue with her so she can get her lunch, you already had your packed since school food was, well it was questionable at most and full of carbs you didn't need.

"I need to go to washroom, I'll be right back Susanna" you said to your friend before you pecked her cheek and turned around to head your way, but you were met with a loud crash and something cold ran down your white shirt.

"What the-" you said loudly before you looked up and saw the same guy who now had his shades off, his hazel eyes looking down at you and resting on your chest.

"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU-" you shouted and whole canteen looked at you. Your eyes filled with tears from embarrassment and your cheeks were red as an apple.

You pushed the guy away and ran towards the girls washroom that was just around the corner.

You looked into the mirror, your eyes full of tears, now red. Neatly ironed uniform that you wore was now covered with dark cola stains that rested over your chest.

Humiliated. Thats how you felt. Of course you didn't have reserve shirt, and of course you didn't know how the hell will you go back and face all of the people who saw that exchange few minutes ago.

A loud knock on the washroom door pulled you out of your panic state,

"Susanne do you have a shirt please? I can't go like this around the school, everyone will laugh!"

You yelled and the doors opened but your friend didn't say anything, instead you heard the doors closing.

"I don't have a shirt, but I might be able to help with your situation doll"

A man's voice could be heard and you panicked even more. "What the hell?" You thought

You turned towards the doors and saw him- that wretched human who just couldn't leave you alone this day it seemed.

"I think you've done enough, now please leave, this is a girls washroom or I'll scream and you'll get suspended or even better expelled."

You spat at him with low voice, turning away, but instead of answer, something hit you on the head, blocking your vision, it was warm and dark.

"Its the least I can do..and just so you know I am not a huge "share" guy, so you are welcome you stuck up.."

You grabbed the fabric that was over your head and pulled it down, having your vision back.

You held the jacket in your hands and glared at the guy.

"I wouldn't want to be found dead wearing this around! Its tasteless and it smells like cigarette factory! People will think that I am a loser or even worse that I am with someone like you!"

You threw the jacket back to him and he caught it with ease raising his dark eyebrow at you.

"Are you really that concerned about what will the poosh scum in this school say or think about you?"

You were now furious, you just wanted him gone, away from you, away from this room. You wished this whole day was just a nightmare and that you were still in bed, dreaming. Your mum will come upstairs to wake you up and see you off. But, the problem was that the whole morning and day were very real, and he was real and he wasn't leaving.

"Do I care? Yes, I care. These people love me, they care about me, they think highly of me and they respect me. Why would I even need to explain that to you, newcomer who is trying so hard to be tough and macho, thinking that you can just roll in with your shiny bike and make new rules?! Well guess what, no one will ever like you or accept you here because of your shitty behaviour, your mum should've raised you better and I absolutely am disgusted by you.

Now leave. I wont tell you the third time."

You let your rage get better of you and you didn't even think about the words that you were saying, wether they hurt him or not, and deep inside you knew that but you couldn't stop your tongue for spitting venom into his direction.

He just stood there, looking at you softly, before turning around and nodding his head. He didn't seem to be hurt by the words.

You didn't want to look at him so you turned away, looking at the mirror and trying to clean your shirt with some cold water when you heard doors being opened but before you could relax you realised that the door never closed instead you heard his voice again.

"You know, they were laughing when you ran away.." guy sad and the doors were shut. You were alone in the washroom again, the soothing sound of the water from the sink pulling you into deep thoughts.

"What? There is no way..he is a liar. They all love me, they were all probably concerned about me when I left in panic.." your thoughts were everywhere and you shut your eyes close, splashing your face with cold water.

"They were..right?" You thought again and opened your eyes, looking towards the doors.

There on the hanger was a black leather jacket, hanging and you took a deep breath, he left it for you, and the sting of regret pinched you on your chest - you really said some fucked up things.

Girl sighed and walked towards the hanger, taking the black jacket and sliding her arms inside. It was still warm. She zipped it up so that it would cover the stain on her chest and to her surprise she grabbed the collar and smelled it which caused her to cough- yeah it did smell like cigars after all. She smiled to herself and the bell for the next period rang, it was time to face people, again.

The class what unusually quiet, your friend didn't say much about what happened after you left, but you knew her well enough to know that she loved you and didn't want to hurt your feelings probably.

"What the hell are you wearing? Dont tell me that you and that guy are a thing!" Susanne said with angry but hushed voice, she didn't want the jocks at the back to hear your conversation even though the entire time they were eying you and giving you dirty looks.

"What?! No! How could you think something like that, are you crazy? I ordered him to give me this and of course that he obeyed. I didn't have a spare shirt.. and I can't walk around looking like Carry when she forgot to adjust her pad.."

You were lying, of course you were, and you wanted to stop but you couldn't, you didn't want your friend to think less of you and your authority you had in the school.

Your image that you were building all this time couldn't be crumbled now, when you only had one year left in this place, now when you were one of the most popular girls in the school, at the peak of being main cheerleader, but you could hear the whispers and laughs that were present.

Jeff was showing something to the others at the back of the classroom, you could see his phone in his hand and everyone he offered the peek at the screen was looking at you with sly smile that lingered on their lips.

You buried your head in your hands, just praying that class will be over soon so you could go home and by tomorrow, something else will happen and everyone will forget about what happened, and your prayers were answered- the bell rang and you packed quickly, saying your goodbyes to Susanne as you darted towards the classroom doors- it will be over at last.. but things aren't always so simple are they?

"So (y/n), you and the new guy in a bathroom?" You heard stupid Jeff's voice and you stopped in your tracks, turning around to face him, your cheeks getting red a bit.

"Excuse me?" You said while furrowing your eyebrows, will this day ever end?

"Carry saw you two inside there, no wonder you have his jacket. First day of new year and you already hop on the new guy? Thought it will take more time to forget me.."

Oh yeah, you forgot to mention that Jeff was your ex who broke up with you over the text on the summer vacation while you were away with your friends. Yeah, Jeff is a persona non grata in your life, his stupid blue eyes and stupid blonde hair.

"What the hell are you talking about Jeff? I don't even know him, did you hit your head on football practice or something?" You said and whole class watched the exchange, all of the girls eying you with judging look in their eyes, you friend Susanne staying quiet.

Jeff took his phone from the pocket and unlocked it with sly grin on his face, his fingers tapping over screen before he pushed the screen in front of your face. It was a picture of you and the guy in the bathroom, took as it looks like through the slightly opened washroom door.

You now blushed uncontrollably, your eyes getting filled with tears, you were never in this situation before, they all loved you, they never judged you, they never picked on you. How is this happening to you, the belle of the school? Usually you would be the one to laugh at someone because of some stupid picture, how did all the world turn on you? Was this karma?

As first tears started rolling down your reddened cheek, you felt hand on your shoulder that pulled you against someone. You could feel his breathing on your back, it was not regular, as if the person that held you was angry .

"Yes, she is with me, what will you do about that you twat?" The familiar voice spoke and you couldn't help but smile on the inside, it was him, where the hell did he come from? "Is he a stalker? Please, no, anything but that.."

"The used goods suit your style Riley. Not that I am bragging but.." Jeff was now furious, trying to humiliate both of them, throwing around insults that he knew were not true. "Riley? Was that his name? How the hell does Jeff know him?"

"Yeah, well, I like fixing broken things mate, what can I say.." Riley said with a smile on his face and pulled you out of the classroom.

"Lets go doll, I have a huge problem, and only you can fix it" you looked up at him confused and a bit disoriented. What the hell was happening?

As he was basically almost carrying you out on the front doors you pouted and kicked at him

"What the hell was that? Me fixing your shit?! You were the one who put me in this position at the first place you arse! Let me go!"

You squiled as the guy that dragged you laughed "Or what? Will you run to the principal? What will you say? Oh ,sir ,this man just saved me from humiliation infront of the whole class and not just once but twice! Can you believe how good of a lad he is?" Riley now teased you, changing his voice into his best version of femine voice.

Your head was spinning, you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were angry, sad and happy at the same time. You reminisced on the day when Riley finally stopped dragging you around, when you looked around you were on the parking lot, next to his bike- right where all this madness started.

You were quiet, looking down, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on your face. You twirled your skirt in your hands before looking up at him finally.

"I wont go to principal..and yes you were right. Is that what you wanted me to say? That all this" you pointed at school building behind you and then at your ponytail that was now sad looking "is fake? Okay fine, I'll admit it. Its fake, all of it. They hate me and I hate them, I can't stand them. There, you win, Riley"

You were now fired up ,angry with yourself and felt defeated. This hazel-eyed guy in front of you turned your whole world upside down in just one day and you didn't have any control over it, you didn't have any control over your choices and it scared you, you never felt that way.

"I don't want to win, I just want you to open your pretty eyes and see the world as it is. Now, are you gonna linger there and yell at me more or are we going?"

He smiled at you and wiggled his eyebrows, you took a deep breath and then furrowed your eyebrows at him once more.

"We? We are not going anywhere. I am going home and thats it."

You said, crossing your hands over your chest looking away from him.

Riley mounted his bike and chuckled at you

"Come on, I'll get ya home, I owe you that much for all of the crap that happened today.." he patted seat behind him and you pouted, weighing your options.

"Okay, but if you miss any of the directions I am about to give you I am jumping off and calling the coppers. Are we clear?"

Riley laughed at your statement and gave you the helmet and you mounted the bike.

You softly laid your hands on his back and he chucked as he started the bike.

"You'll have to grab better if you don't want to fly off on the first corner we take ,doll"

You blushed under the helmet and warped your hands around his waist, holding him tightly and resting your head on his back. You just now noticed how nice he actually smelled, it was some mixture of that "replay" perfume you really liked.

Riley pulled the bike break and you two drove off the dreadful parking lot.

After some yelling at him and wanting to push him off the motorcycle , you two were now two houses away from your own. You told him to stop and he did.

You almost fell off trying to get off the bike for some reason and you could hear his laughter, it was cheerful and it suited his calming and a bit raspy voice.

You hanged your bag over the shoulder and gave him back his helmet.

"I suppose I should thank you?" You blinked at him and even let a small smile linger on your lips. He was looking at your face, your eyes especially.

"No need... It was my pleasure doll.",

You could now see that he was staring at your face and you blushed.

"What are you looking at? Do I look that bad?",

you questioned and he averted his gaze, looking down at the pavement, still having huge smile over his face. You noticed that he had dimples on his cheeks when he smiled like that, and well.. He was cute.

"No, nothing like that. Its just..this is the first time I saw you smile since I met you this morning..", he said and ran his hand through his messy hair.

"Yeah, well... I didn't have much to smile at today did I?", you bit your lower lip and averted gaze away from him.

He said slowly nodded his head in approval to your words.

"Well.. Guess I'll see you tomorrow..", you said and waved at him, starting to walk away to your home before you remembered one important thing. You could hear that he started his bike already.

"WAIT! I mean.. Wait!"

You yelled, running back towards the bike, he raised his visor of the helmet he already put on and blinked at you.

"Whats your name?", you asked him and tugged hair that was in your face away behind the ears.

"Simon.. Simon Riley. And you?"

He said and you bit your lip smiling at him,

"Its (y/n)..", you said shyly now and he the gas of his bike looking at you.

"Well, see ya 'morrow, (y/n)."

He said and winked at you before lowering the visor and driving off, not even waiting for your response.

You stood on the pavement and smiled to yourself.

"Simon. A name to match that crazy personality of his and..", you thought to yourself before facepalming in the middle of the street.

You realised that you were still wearing his black jacket.

"That cheeky bastard plans everything in advance doesn't he..?"

#cod #cod mw #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #fluff

136 notes · View notes

elvendara · 3 years

Text

Sugar and Spice Day 2

July 13th

Cheerleader/Stoner HS AU

“He’s looking at you again.” MC said and nudged Yoosung with her elbow.

“Stop it! No he isn’t, he’s probably looking at you.” He retorted and continued to stretch, reaching for his left foot as he sat on the ground, legs spread apart as far as they would go. MC shook her head.

“Uh uh, he’s gay, and you’re the only one with a penis over here.”

“Oh my god! How would you even know he’s gay? What a rotten rumor, just because he isn’t interested in any of the girls that throw themselves at him. Maybe he has standards.” He scoffed.

“Sure, all the standards of a stoner.” MC scoffed right back.

“Wow, way to generalize. You don’t even know him.”

“And you do?”

“I didn’t say that, I just mean, don’t judge.”

“I may not know him, but you’re right about one thing, he isn’t your general stoner.”

“I know, he’s like super smart. The teachers love him because he doesn’t cause any problems and does all his work fast. He’s probably the smartest kid in the school…” Yoosung stopped when he heard MC laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“For someone who isn’t interested, you sure know a lot.”

Yoosung snapped his mouth shut. So what if he’d asked a couple of questions about Saeran? It was only because he’d overheard the teachers talking about him while Yoosung was in the office helping out.

“Just, be quiet OK. He’s going to hear you.” They both stood, side by side, legs apart and began to bend at the waist, stretching more. It was important to prepare their bodies before beginning practice.

He couldn’t help it, he snuck a peek at the bleachers and locked eyes with Saeran. He looked away quickly, as if it had been an accident. His heart rate increased and sweat broke out all over his body. It happened every time he saw the guy. Something about him just seemed to ignite a craving that was insatiable. He’d bleached his hair during summer break and added pink tips at the beginning of the school year. He wore a red shirt, a leather jacket, skinny jeans and biker boots. He usually wore eyeliner and a spiked collar, but Yoosung couldn’t see for sure if he did now. It looked good on him though.

“Sure.” MC rolled her eyes, as she stretched in the same direction as Yoosung. His blond hair was pulled back in a small tight pony, his white school t-shirt was cropped, and his gym shorts were tight around his ample ass and crotch. His amethyst eyes strayed to the bleachers continuously.

It certainly seemed like Saeran was looking at him. He could feel those brilliant amber eyes on him. He tried to shake himself, it wasn’t very manly to swoon. Though he supposed being a cheerleader wasn’t manly either, but he’d like to see one of those jocks try and do a backflip into a perfect split!

There was movement out of the corner of his eye, and he glanced back just in time to see Saeran step down from the bleachers and head around back. It meant nothing of course, but he felt a little sad. He’d been looking forward to try and show off his moves. Flexibility was sexy right? No use in wallowing in his absence, time to practice.

They both ran towards the group already practicing and joined in. They rehearsed the cheers they knew by heart and learned the new dance routine their captain had prepared. Yoosung liked dancing, even more than the gymnastic and cheers part of being a cheerleader. But his head just wasn’t in it. His thoughts wandered back to Saeran. Was MC right? Was he gay? People said that about him all the time, but they were just assholes, trying to make fun of him because he didn’t want to join any of their cliques.

“Ow! Damn it Yoosung! Pay attention! You almost dropped me!” Hena screamed at him as she hit the ground roughly but still on her feet.

“Ah, sorry, sorry.” Yoosung shook himself, it was dangerous to not pay attention while doing the stunts they did. He felt terrible.

“I think that’s it for you Yoosung, why don’t you hit the showers.” Ashie, the cheer captain ordered with a shake of her head. She didn’t even look at him as he walked away. MC gave him a pitying look as he passed her and a squeeze of his upper arm. He nodded his thanks but knew he was in big trouble. He wouldn’t lose his spot on the team, but Ashie would make him pay for sure. He did as he was told and showered then put his uniform back on. The top was of the same style as the females, but with sleeves and longer, and the pants were plain white and loose fitting with stirrups for his feet so they wouldn’t ride up.

Grabbing his bag, he set out towards the busses. It was the last run but wouldn’t leave for another hour because it was set to take the kids home who had after school activities. Crossing the grassy area next to the track where the football players and cheerleaders were practicing, he glanced towards the bleachers and saw Saeran standing underneath. At least, he assumed it was him, all he saw was a patch of bleached hair. Without making a conscious decision his steps carried him towards the area. Before he realized where he was, he stood under the bleachers almost eye to eye with the taller boy. He held a newly rolled up joint, but only played with it as he watched Yoosung approach.

“Oh, uh, hi…” he stumbled and felt like an idiot.

“Hey.” Saeran answered and took a few steps towards Yoosung, standing close to him. Yoosung watched as Saeran reached his hand and traced his finger down his face. He swallowed at the touch, shivers crawling down his spine. They were so close! Close enough to kiss! The thought sprang into his mind, and he could feel himself burning up. He wanted to look away, but he was held firm in those amber eyes. They were clear, so he it seemed he hadn’t smoked anything yet. There was indeed black eyeliner around his eyes, the edges smudged to give him an edgier look. His nails were painted black, and he wondered what their hands would look like intertwined as his own nails were currently a bubblegum pink.

“Can I tell you something?” Saeran asked, so close he felt the warmth of his breath on his cheek. Yoosung nodded numbly, his body beginning to vibrate. “You are beautiful.” The sentence was short and to the point whispered intimately into his ear. Yoosung’s heart stopped beating, his eyes widening. He felt faint and stumbled towards Saeran, who caught him in his arms easily. It only made his reaction worse to feel the boy’s hands on his body. Once he was steady on his feet again Saeran took a step back.

“Sorry.” He let go of Yoosung and moved an arm’s length away. The joint was back in his hand as he turned and looked through the bleachers at the track and everyone still at practice. It felt like someone had doused him with a bucket of cold water. He wanted to reach out and touch Saeran again, but his body’s response left him shocked and confused. “Saeyoung says I’m too intense sometimes.” He kept his gaze away from Yoosung. “Heh…that’s me I guess, either no interest or too much interest.”

“Am I…interesting?” Yoosung asked.

“Very.” Saeran answered. There was a full minute of silence as they both let that sink in. There was a small smile on Saeran’s lips as he seemed to be mulling over something. Yoosung thought he could stand there and stare at the boy for the rest of his life. That smile was heavenly. Beautiful? Yes, Saeran was an angel!

“Do you read poetry?” he asked, his amber gaze once more piercing through Yoosung’s heart.

“Poetry? No…I…no.” the question took him aback, why were they now talking about poetry?

“I do. I like poetry. The way it flows, the language it uses to describe something so sublime there really are no words, yet…they try.” He turned towards Yoosung again and took a step forward.

“Cloaked in darkness with an icy heart

I roamed this earth.

Head held low with a shuffling step

Denied of every warmth.

Into my sight and in my world

A ray of sunshine

With golden hair and cherub lips

A vision so sublime.”

As he spoke Saeran again traced his fingertips down Yoosung’s face to his jaw and back again.

Yoosung swallowed, “What…who…wrote that?” his brain was buzzing, was Saeran really quoting poetry to him? He wondered how his legs were still able to hold him up, as they felt like noodles.

“I did.” He whispered into his ear again. “The first time I saw you, it was like the rainclouds above my head opened up and for the first time let the sun’s rays in. You glow. Your light is so radiant it puts the sun to shame. How anyone can be in your presence and not be blinded is beyond me. And now, here I am, touching that light.”

#my posts #Yooran #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #Sugar and Spice #Day 2 #Cheereader/Stoner (High School AU)#Saeran is for sure intense and Yoosung is here for it #Ahh....

14 notes · View notes

thorniest-rose · 4 years

Text

reddie halloween prompt #4 candy

It all happens in the small pocket of time between advanced math and the dirge of gym. Jimmy’s dragging his heels, hanging back in the bathrooms on the second floor, trying to delay the inevitable jeers of all the boys in his class. As they mock him for his weak knees and his protruding ribs, pinging their towels at him and asking him how small his dick is, if it’s even big enough to get hard.

But Jimmy knows it’s coming. After years of falling victim for his chronic acne, and his high-pitched voice, for sometimes just existing, he’s come to expect it.

What he doesn’t expect is to be cornered by Richie Tozier, the weird loudmouth with the dark eyes and the wide grin, who laughed like a jackal at his own vulgar jokes and could outsmart all of their teachers without trying.

Jimmy hadn’t spoken to Richie in more than two years, had done nothing to warrant the boy’s wrath. So he doesn’t know why he’s here now, wedged back against the window as Richie grins down at him. The wacky kid with buck teeth and bottle glasses who had somehow transformed into this tall, moody, striking teen with the cheekbones that could cut glass. Who all the girls secretly looked at as he walked down the hallway.

He asks, “W-what do you want, Richie?”

Richie grins at him like they’re friends. “I just thought we could catch up, Jimmy. I’ve seen you hanging out with your new girlfriend.”

Jimmy swallows hard. Was that what this was about?

“Oh yeah…”

“Oh yeah,” Richie mocks. “What, you think no one had noticed? That one of the hottest girls at school is suddenly hanging off your dick and no one would say anything?”

Jimmy shrugs, but his mouth has gone bone dry. He’d been dating Cindy for the last three weeks and it had sent ripples through school. Everyone was shocked. That someone as beautiful and popular as Cindy would even talk to a guy like Jimmy, let alone fall head over heels for him. At lunchtime she now ditched all her friends to sit in a corner of the cafeteria with him, and after school walked home with his hand in hers. At the weekend, they got ice cream and walked to the lake and sat in his backyard, and the entire time she looked at him with her big blue eyes, and told him she never wanted anything else.

“It’s just curious, that’s all,” Richie continues, eyes glinting. “Pretty sure she hated your fucking guts a few months ago.”

“Things change, Richie.”

“Is that right,“ he replies, his dark eyebrows raised mockingly.

And Jimmy’s had enough. He gets enough shit from jock assholes as it is, without a weird fucking kid like Richie joining in.

“Richie, I really have to get to class. Gym is starting and if I’m late-”

Richie pushes him back against the wall with one hand to his chest. The skin on the back of his hand is mottled, scarred, and Jimmy’s chest tightens. The skin looks like it was run over with a sheet of barbed wire.

“Hold your horses,” Richie says, “we haven’t finished catching up yet.”

Jimmy blurts, “Are you… are you jealous or something?”

“Nice try, dipshit, but no, I’m not jealous that you’re with a blonde airhead like Cindy. I need to know how you did it.”

Jimmy feels the bottom drop out of his stomach.

“What?”

“Come on,” Richie says, his mouth unfurling into a slow, smoky grin, “don’t wuss out on me now.”

“Cindy has feelings for me.”

Richie barks and rolls his eyes. "Unless you’re seriously packing down there, I doubt that.”

“I mean it, we have a real connection.”

The good humour drops from Richie’s face.

“Bullshit,” he hisses, making Jimmy flinch. “I know you did something. No way would she even fucking look at a little creep like you if you hadn’t done something to her. So you’re either paying her, but I know your parents are piss poor so it’s not that. Maybe you’re blackmailing her, but you’re too pussy for that too. So it has to be something else.”

“What do you mean?” Jimmy splutters, feeling like he’s going to wet himself.

He’d heard things about Richie over the last few years. That he got his scars from some unknown childhood trauma, that he’d been kidnapped and tortured by a crazy man. Jimmy didn’t know how true any of that was, but he couldn’t deny the mad glint in Richie’s eyes. That his smiles were always slightly too manic to be good-natured. That when he laughed it sent chills through him.

“Are you going to beat me up? Tell Cindy? Try to reverse the spell?”

He regrets it the second it’s out his mouth, but Richie’s eyes shine, like he’d guessed the twist in a movie before everyone else.

“I knew it,” he says.

Panic grips Jimmy; it catapults him halfway across the bathroom, but Richie is too fast for him. Before he can make it to the door, he feels a hand on his backpack and a second later he’s being thrown back towards the sinks. He crashes back, stumbling, and almost falls to the floor. And Richie just stares at him, a dead heat lighting up his eyes. One brown and one blue.

“Please, let me go, Richie,” Jimmy says, half crumpled against the sinks. He cringes at the whimpering note in his voice, how close he sounds to begging.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why? Are you going to blackmail me?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“What do you want? I don’t have anything to give you. I don’t have money.”

Richie’s lips draw back in a snarl. “Are you really that fucking stupid? I’m here because I want you to do it for me too.”

Jimmy blinks at him. He didn’t think Richie would have any problems with girls. Not with the way they had started to look at him.

His mind flicks through the girls in their year, tries to settle on anyone Richie might like. But he’d never seen Richie pay attention to any girls he knew. Come to think of it, he didn’t think Richie ever had a girlfriend.

“You do…? On who?”

Richie doesn’t hesitate as he says, “Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Jimmy feels his mouth drop open. He says, “You’re… you’re a fag?”

Richie’s face goes dark, and Jimmy’s vision blacks out as Richie’s fist smashes into the side of his mouth. He staggers back, his head cracking against the wall, and distantly he hears himself cry out as a searing bolt of pain shoots through his skull.

When he comes to, his vision blotting hazily at the corners, Richie’s wiping his bloody knuckles against his jeans.

“Maybe we should try that again,” he says, tone mild, like he hadn’t just punched Jimmy in the face. “But if you say that fucking word one more time, I’ll push you out the window.”

Jimmy’s eyes prickle hot as the blood drips down his mouth. He thinks he might cry.

Richie notices and he sneers at him. “God, you’re such a fucking pussy. I could do a lot worse than that, you know.”

“I don’t know if I can do the spell again.”

And he didn’t. Jimmy had found the spell in an old tome he’d found in a dark basement bookstore two towns over. A place he heard whispers about. He hadn’t even thought the spell would work. But it had. He’d walked out of his house the next morning and Cindy had been on his doorstep, so happy and eager to see him Jimmy initially thought it had been a joke. But it hadn’t. She was besotted.

Richie looks unamused as he pulls an old lighter out of his pocket.

“You better remember,” he says, as he flicks it on, the orange flame making Jimmy jump. “Or I’ll have to help you jog your memory.”

“I… I guess I could try,” he mumbles as he watches the flame burn in Richie’s hand.

Richie shakes his head. “You’ll need to do better than that.” He flicks the lighter off and on again. “Have you been burned before? I read once that being set on fire is the most excruciating pain you can ever feel. I wonder if Cindy will still feel the same about you if she can’t recognise you. Spell or no spell.”

Desperation claws at Jimmy’s throat and he quickly blurts, “Okay, I’ll do it, I will.”

Richie flicks the lighter off. “Good,” he says.

And a part of Jimmy, though surprised, gets it, because Eddie was beautiful. Over the last year he’d blossomed from a sick little boy into something slender and sweet, with long tanned legs and the thickest lashes Jimmy had ever seen. There was a rumour going around school that Eddie was prettier than most girls, and that they all hated him for it. Not that he seemed to notice. He went to his classes and ran with the track team, and was always quiet and serene, apart from the times he saw Richie. When his expression went icy and his tone turned brittle.

Jimmy still can’t help but ask, “Why him?”

"Because he’s everything,” Richie replies.

Jimmy doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead he says, “I’ll need something of his. For the spell to bind to him.”

“No problem.”

Richie takes a small locket of dark hair out of his pocket. Jimmy stares at it. He doesn’t want to know how Richie got it. How he already had it on him.

“There are risks, I need you to know that,” he says as Richie hands it to him.

Richie just stares at him, looking bored. “I don’t really care.”

“But it might not work. Or it could go wrong. Sometimes these spells… sometimes they don’t turn out the way we expect them to.”

And Jimmy was telling the truth. He’d heard some terrible things. Sometimes the spell didn’t take, and sometimes it took too well, driving the enchanted lover to the edges of hysteria, so obsessed with the object of their affections that they couldn’t eat or sleep. That they couldn’t function without being with the person who had cast the spell.

“Just do whatever it takes,” Richie says, his brown eye so dark it looked almost black. “I want him to be crazy for me. So crazy that he needs me, all the time. I don’t want him to think of anything else but me. Got it?”

“Got it,” Jimmy says quietly. And for some reason he feels ashamed.

He jumps again when he feels Richie clap his hand down on his shoulder.

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard was it? You have a week. Or I’ll tell everyone what you’ve done. And your cute new girlfriend won’t be able to stand the sight of you.” He grins at Jimmy. "Sound good?”

“Yeah,“ Jimmy says, head nodding stupidly even as his stomach churns. “Sounds good.”

“Cool, I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

On his way out, Richie gestures to Jimmy’s nose. “You might want to clean that up by the way. Get a cotton bud up there.”

In the silence following Richie’s departure, Jimmy stares at himself in the mirror and doesn’t recognise the pale, pleading face staring back at him. He thinks he might be sick, but instead he mops up the blood oozing from his nose and goes to gym.

A week later, he hides around a corner as he watches Richie hand Eddie the candy: a little bag of pink love hearts knotted at the top with a ribbon. Inside, one of the love hearts is special. Nestled inside the sugar is a drop of lamb’s blood, crushed belladonna, and the membrane of a baby bird. The potion Jimmy had made and injected into the candy the night before, the potion that would turn Eddie’s blood molten for Richie.

Eddie asks, "Why, Richie?"

"Can’t I treat you, baby?” Richie replies.

“Don’t call me that please.”

Eddie looks at the candy dubiously at first, but eventually he can’t resist, and he takes it from Richie with a mumbled thanks.

Jimmy has a thought of ducking round the corner and running down the hall, slapping the candy from Eddie’s hands just in time, of saving him. But he doesn’t. Because he’s a coward. So he hangs back and watches instead. Watches as Eddie takes the special love heart, the one that’s pinker and plumper than the rest, and pops it into his mouth.

The change is instantaneous. Eddie’s body goes suddenly taut, as if his limbs are being pulled together by a string, and his eyes go bright and glossy as he stares up at Richie. The frown between his eyes melts away, and in its place his expression softens, his mouth pink and lax as he mouths Richie’s name.

Jimmy feels like he’s going to throw up. He spins around and starts walking away just as he hears Eddie say, “Richie,” like he’s seeing the other boy for the first time. Like Richie is a bright, burning sphere of sunshine in an endless night. He walks down the hallway and all the way home. Tosses and turns all night with half-snatched dreams.

And the next day, when he comes across the two boys making out in the woods, Eddie’s mouth so wet and red as Richie bites at it, his hands grabbing as Eddie through his jeans while the smaller boy gasps, Jimmy doesn’t do anything. And when Richie’s eyes meet his over Eddie’s head, swimming with mirth, and something like greed, Jimmy stumbles and runs. He runs and runs, and not once does he ever think to look back.

#reddie #reddie drabbles #halloween reddie #love spells #tw dark richie #tw obsession #tw no consent #tw violence #tw homophobic language

105 notes · View notes

gowithgabby · 3 years

Text

Remember the Daze.

Character BIO(s):

Kylie Julien McCarthy

17 years old

Born on September 2nd

Nickname: Ky pronounced like “Kai” (by everyone) Kay-Jay (only by Sav and Jessa), Jewels (by Noah)

Goals: Yale, aspiring to be a Doctor

Interests: Reading, Baking, Beach Days, Mathematics, Literature, Pizza

Crushing on Noah Collins, her best friend since Kindergarten

Summary: One of the best students at Laguna Beach High School, Kylie is articulate, well spoken, mannered, good at multitasking, fairly great at planning, and organized. The kid has a good heart and a good head on her shoulders. A straight A student, member of the school decathlon team, the senior class VP. Kylie is very sweet, honorable, and level headed often acting as the voice of reason in the female portion of her friends. Kylie was born to a successful lawyer, George McCarthy and his partner, Christopher Julien, a ambitious magazine editor. They used a surrogate to have their children, Kylie does know of her birth mother and maintains a relationship with her but she loves her fathers very much. She has a little sister named Violet, who is starting her freshman year at Laguna Beach HS. In all of her 17 years, Kylie has been very complacent in her actions. This year, she is hoping to take the big step in really getting what she wants. She just hopes that it doesn’t blow up in her face.

Noah Joseph Collins

18 years old

Born on June 27th

Nickname: Joey, Jojo (Only by Kylie and his mom)

Goals: Yale, aspiring to be a Lawyer

Interests: Listening to music before his time, Pizza, Video Games, Reading, Writing, Debating, and Traveling.

Crushing on Kylie McCarthy, his best friend since Kindergarten

Summary: You might think Kylie is the best student at Laguna, but Noah is her academic rival. While he is on the basketball team, he doesn’t care much for the glory that sports brings, not neglecting his athletic skills. He prefers to bury himself with books, educating himself and enriching his mind. You would think him and Kylie would be trying to tear each other down to be the best but it’s actually the exact opposite, they work off each other and build together. This is mainly due to being each other’s best friends since kindergarten, having fond memories of each other. Noah split his lunch with Kylie when she forgot hers on their first day and they’ve been tight ever since. He has dreams of Yale, his father’s alma mater. He is gifted, the editor of the school’s newspaper and he is the senior class President. He is the son of New York Times best selling author, Layla Shaw-Collins and her equally successful husband, Duane Collins, who made his wealth being the most sought out talent agent in LA. He has an older brother named Aaron whom is starting his junior year at Cornell and an older sister named Luna who is a sophomore at Spelman college, a historic black college.

Savanna Wyatt Birkhart

17 years old

Born on October 31st

Nickname: Sav, Savvy, Wyatt (by Ethan)

Goal: UCLA, aspiring to be a Model

Interests: Modeling, Singing, Cheerleading, Bonfires, Volunteering, Traveling, Shopping, Horror Movies, Yoga, Romance Movies, Makeup, Sage, Hot Wings, Indian Food.

Dating Levi James, boyfriend of 4 years. Crushing on her best friend, Ethan Mahoney (possibly)

Summary: What’s to say about Savanna Birkhart that hasn’t been said already?, dubbed the golden girl of her senior class due to her being head cheerleader and girlfriend of arrogant, Levi, the football star. She makes good grades to keep her GPA somewhat untouchable, she dreams of UCLA. Daughter of Carter Birkhart, a successful property realtor and his award winning actress wife, Farrah Sayers-Birkhart. From the time that the biracial girl was placed in her mother’s arms as a baby, she was genetically “blessed”, taking the best of both parents. Doomed to be popular of her face and wealth, don’t think she feeds into the stereotype of high school. Far from entitled and spoiled, she’s openly friendly, down to earth, charitable, honest, warm, caring, and very naive…especially when it comes to her boyfriend, Levi. Everyone is friends with Sav, she’s a good person to be around. She has an older brother named Silas, who is climbing the ladder to be a PR agent in LA, alma mater of USC and she has a 10 year old younger brother named Six, who was born on Christmas Day. Lately, she’s been finding herself in a somewhat love triangle, between her boyfriend whom she loves and her best friend, Ethan, who she also loves but she’s not sure if it’s friendly love or something more. She’s best friends with Ethan, Cali, Kylie, Noah, and Jessa but gets along with everyone fairly well.

Levi Nathaniel James

18 years old

Born on May 15th

Nickname: LJ

Goal(s): winning the state championship, Stanford, aspires to be CEO of his father’s company

Interests: Partying, Drinking, Working out, Having Sex, Traveling, Sushi, Indian Food, Sports

Dating Savanna Birkhart, girlfriend of 4 years. Unbeknownst to his naive girlfriend, he tends to cheat on her when he goes on family trips or with his dad out of town. He does love her but sometimes he cheats.

Summary: Born to a pair of sun-kissed blonde power couple, Levi is the son of Fortune 500 - Forbes listed CEO of JamesCo, William James and his former model turned socialite wife, Uma Peterson-James. From the day that he was born, Levi has been told that he is powerful, he has money and a lot of it. There hasn’t been anything he wasn’t given, awarded, provided. Textbook jock, Levi excelled in football (mainly), basketball, lacrosse, soccer, and surfs in his free time. He’s QB of the football team and he relishes in the fact that he has Sav on his arm, he’s perfect and he only wants the best for his ego. He mainly focuses on his girlfriend, sex, parties (lots of them), drinking, and sports. He is not the best friend you would want however, very few outside of their friend group knows how he got Sav, by betraying his former best friend from childhood, Ethan, who still harbors a love for Savanna. Recently, he’s been noticing Ethan’s less than quiet advances on Sav. He doesn’t like it, but he has also been holding in secrets from his girlfriend, his cheating and a deeper one that might not only fuck up his relationship with Savanna but destroy the bonds that are deep rooted with their friend group. Levi does have a softer side that only his parents, Savanna, and his sister get to see. He has a little sister named Chelsie, who is a gymnastics prodigy in the making at only 12 years old. He’s best friends with Talan, he’s friends with everyone but he doesn’t care too much for Ethan still being accepted in their group of friends.

Maia Genevieve Langley

18 years old

Born on July 5th

Nickname: Mai, Langley

Goal: Juilliard, aspiring to be an Actress

Interests: Flowers, Hot Girls, Cute Boys, Designing, Makeup, Sneakers, Cupcakes, Acting, Slumber Parties, and experimenting with different hair colors

Crushing on Bodhi Desai and her female classmate, Hanna Richardson

Summary: Everything about Maia screams sensitive, mainly Kylie’s best friends but she does hold close friendships with everyone in the group, Maia is overly sensitive, fiercely loyal, a ride or die friend, and occasionally shy. A little bit on the hyperactive side, openly bisexual and her parents are okay with it, modern day hippies…what can you say?! She had her first same sex experience with a girl at summer camp when she was in the 7th grade. Her friends do tend to walk on eggshells with her due to her over-sensitivity to avoid triggering her. A flair for the dramatics, Maia knows her name will be in lights one day. She wanted to just move to LA and not go to college but her parents are still a little old-fashioned and want her to be educated and perfect her craft before she attempts the struggling actress thing. She was born to a Japanese-American Self help guru named Mina Sato-Langley and a English father named Jeremiah Langley, he was a footballer in England before transitioning to the states and settling into ESPN anchor fame. Maia is the eldest of four children, having two younger identical twin brothers named Hunter and Finn Langley, who are freshmen at Laguna Beach high school. She has a younger sister named Bay Langley who is 6 years old, Maia was 12 years old when her sister was born, she was a what you call a “surprise” baby. Maia has spent the last four years in awe of Bodhi but he doesn’t pick up on her flirtatious banter or he ignores it to avoid hurting her feelings.

Bodhi Abraham Desai

18 years old

Born on March 19th

Nickname: Bo

Goal: Cornell, this school is said to have the best culinary arts program; aspiring to be a Chef with his own restaurant

Interests: Mixology, Baking, Cooking, Soul Music, R&B, Comic Books, Alternative music, Old movies, joking

Crushing on Cali Hernandez

Summary: Known as the Lovable Goofball, Bodhi is down to earth, laidback, friendly, and most of all, silly. He is the son of British Indian award winning Bollywood turned Hollywood actor named Deepak Desai and his acclaimed Screenwriter wife, welsh-Irish wife, Alys Davies-Desai. He has a younger sister named Billie, named after his parents love for Billie Holiday, who is 11 years old. Bodhi dreams of being a chef one day with a restaurant similar to Wolfgang or Gordon, his culinary idols. He would love to take his culinary skills abroad and studying in France, India, Italy, and many other countries. He is quite skilled in mixology, teaching himself the art of mixing drinks from YouTube and picking up tricks from hired bartenders at his parents parties and events. He makes decent grades enough to make his parents proud, he excels in chemistry having a love for science since he was in elementary school. He surfs in his alone time and is a beast on the beach when it comes to frisbee and volleyball. He’s best friends with Noah and Ethan. Close friend with everyone else in the group.

Calista Pilar Hernandez

17 years old

Born on December 31st, a New Year’s Eve baby

Nickname: Cali

Goal: UCLA or USC, aspiring to be a Decorator

Interests: Shopping, Makeup, Vlogging, Chinese Food, Boba Tea, Cheerleading, Beach Nights, Partying.

Dating Talan Everett, boyfriend of 4 years. Crushing on someone in the group but refusing to say it

Summary: Calista is the hot-headed BFF to Savanna Birkhart, while they’re both cheerleaders and share some interests, but ultimately are opposite, where Savanna is down to earth and warm, Cali tends to come off as spoiled and cold. Outspoken, brash, a slick mouth and sarcasm stewed to perfection. Do not call her a spicy Latina, she hates the way Hollywood has stereotyped women with attitude. She’s fiery and will let you know about your wrongs, proud of her heritage. She’s of Mexican-Cuban descent and Swedish through her mother. Cali has a younger brother named Javi, who is a sophomore at Laguna Beach High. Raised by her single father, Javier Hernandez Sr, a famous architect that made his wealth building homes and iconic businesses for the elite. Her mother, Enya Nilsson was a influential fashion designer with several collections, one even named after her daughter, Calista. She lost her mom at 8 years old, making her father a widow. He buried himself into his work and left his cards accessibly to his kids, Cali stepped up and helped her various nannies with her younger brother who was only 6 when their mom died. Like her best friend, she’s sexually active with her boyfriend, Talan. She and Savanna were already going to be best friends, due to their mothers. Enya and Farrah being friends. Farrah even walked on the runway for her designer friend a few times, somehow falling pregnant with their daughters weirdly around the same time. She’s been having issues with her boyfriend, Talan lately.

Talan Gray Everett

18 years old

Born on April 10th

Nickname: Tal

Goal: Wharton Business School, aspires to be Advertising Executive

Interests: Drawing, Gardening, Growing his own Weed strains, Smoking pot, Surfing, Painting, Working out

Dating Cali Hernandez, girlfriend of 4 years. Crushing on Jessa Filipov, his best friend of 6 years.

Summary: Talan is by far the most reliable guy next to Noah in his group of his friends. Son of A-List Party Planner, Britney Westin-Everett and successful Nightclub-Exotic Strip owning Mogul, Alan Everett. Talan has a younger sister named, Serena who is 15 years old and a sophomore at Laguna Beach HS and a older half brother on his father’s side, Gilliam, nicknamed Gill, who’s a senior at NYU. Talan spends his days smoking weed, drawing, surfing, skate-boarding, playing volleyball, and mainly keeping his GF, Cali and his best friend, Jessa from ripping each other’s hair out. While he knows Cali is not always a BITCH on wheels and Jessa is not only known for her body count, he doesn’t understand why the young women don’t care to much for him having the other in his life. He often wonders had his life would have been different if he chose Jessa over Cali back in the summer of 9th grade. Would Cali even still be his friend?. He knows they’re both different outside of school and when they’re alone with him. Don’t let his pot smoking ways fool you, Talan is very articulate, calculated, wise…even honorable. He has a green-thumb and he frequently grows his own cannabis in grow houses on the shores of Laguna. He does plan on going to study business. He’s a skilled artist and creative with everything. He’s sexually active and you would think with how close he is with Jessa, he cheated on Cali. But he has not, he’s been extremely faithful to his girlfriend, he does love her. Even though lately they have been on murky waters.

Jessa Beatrix Filipov

17 years old

Born on September 23rd

Nickname: J, JJ, Jess, Bea

Goal: NYU or FIT, aspires to be a Stylist

Interests: Dancing, Twerking, Parties, Salads, Gyros, Burgers, Cheerleading, Beach Days, Themed parties, Hip Hop, Pop music

Crushing on Talan Everett, her best friend of 6 years. Despite him having a GF, Cali

Summary: Jessa was not born in Laguna Beach, Cali will let you and everyone know this information. But she was born in the Nation’s capital to a pair of Bulgarian-American parents, her mother was a high society debutante, Petia Alferov-Filipov and her father, Darian Filipov, was the son of a Oil tycoon who was working his way to senator in his state of DC. However her high society days were cut short when her parents were killed in a car crash when she was 12 years old. Not having any family that was willingly to take her in on the east coast, Jessa was placed in care with her paternal aunt, Yoana Filipov, who was 23 years old at the time. Her aunt is old enough to be her older sister and is not much of a guardian. Her aunt is an heiress who doesn’t need to work, naturally she let her niece do whatever she wants. Only showing up to parent-guardian type things if it’s really needed, signing permission slips and sending her niece money. Jessa quickly made friends in the first few weeks of moving to LB, quickly making her debut as the 10th friend in their group of 9. Jessa “grew up and out” developing physically before the other girls in the group, making her unwisely the first one to adhere to her sexual exploration and interests. She briefly dated Noah, even took his virginity in 9th grade before letting him go as he continued to love Kylie from afar. She does not believe in labels or dating unless she’s really in love and she’s only been in love with one person, Talan for as long as she can remember. A cheerleader, a party girl, and sexually liberated (her words), Jessa is not everyone’s cup of tea…mainly Cali’s. She and Cali actually share a lot in common, both being confident in their looks on the outside but insecure on the inside, sexually active, slick mouthed and sharp tongued, you would think they’d be the best of friends…but they aren’t and Talan is the reason. Plus she also never really like Cali due to her attitude and spoiled demeanor and ability to keep secrets and lie, she is however best friends with Sav and Maia and occasionally Kylie, as she respects the girl’s morals and values to wait. She’s got a good heart and she does believe in love, having seen it firsthand with her parents. She doesn’t want to rush into something that will bite her in the ass. Until it’s something real, mainly with Talan, she doesn’t want a relationship, keeping it casual.

Ethan Lewis Mahoney

18 years old

Born on April 22nd

Nickname: E, Ma-Honey (by Sav…a childhood nickname because she mispronounced his surname in pre-K) and Mahone (by Sav and Noah)

Goal: NYFA or USA, aspires to be a director

Interests: Photography, Smoking Weed, Directing, Writing, Making Films, Comic Books, Hot Wings, Tacos, Horror Movies, and Spicy Foods

Crushing on Savanna Birkhart, his best friend since Pre-K.

Summary: Ethan prefers to spend his time, directing school plays, photographing things, his muse is often Savanna, often taking a lot of her photos for her portfolio. But he’s not a creep about it, she asks him and he obliges because he loves her and knows that she will be a phenomenal model one day. He works for the school newspaper as the head photographer after Noah asked him to when his OG photographer graduated two years ago. While no desires to be a sports guy, Ethan does enjoy watching them. He’s more on the artistic side, preferring to be on the opposing side like behind his lenses or making the productions. He’s the son of Celebrity Chef, Eleanor White (formerly Mahoney) and her philandering Award winning Actor ex husband, Lyle Mahoney. Ethan is the middle of three children that the couple bore before divorcing, he has an older sister named Isla Mahoney who’s currently working at Vogue as a social media advisor, and he has a younger brother named Noel Mahoney who’s the same as age as Sav’s younger brother, Six. He has dated in the past and even had sex a few times, but none of them compared…compared to Savanna. She’s been the object of his affection since he was in preschool, he loved her even before he knew what love was. They even shared their first kiss together. Ethan was right on track with own planning tactics to telling Savanna how he felt until Levi happened. Levi was at one point his best friend, he swooped in and asserted his claim on Savanna, buying her off with lavish gifts and court side seats. He didn’t blame Sav, Levi gave her a story of lies that he always been in love with her and he was too scared to make a move, the gifts didn’t get her…the lies of Levi did. From then on, Ethan had to watch the girl of his dreams be paraded around like a trophy by his former best friend. Things have been rocky ever since, with both guys only getting along for the sake of Savanna. But he wants it’s to be different especially after he hears some interesting news about Levi’s infidelity…he’s just hoping Savanna will believe him and not Levi.

#series #remember the daze #inanna sarkis #liam hemsworth #crystal westbrooks #alex pettyfer #alexa demie #aaron taylor johnson #hayley kiyoko #lily collins #trevor jackson #avan jogia #characters #character concept #oc #fiction

16 notes · View notes

johnnys-coors · 3 years

Note

Could you do one we’re tommy has a crush on the reader and so Johnny helps tommy by giving the reader 10 leaders (1 a day) and he like saying in the letter like how much they like the reader and some stuff abt them so facts etc. so when the last lettter came he tells the reader to meet him at the beach and soooo he standing there and stuff soooo then tommy asks the read out to like a diner and they end up going to a diner just of them and then they end up dating

Letters Made of Hand

Castles Made of Sand -Jimi Hendrix

Characters: Tommy, Johnny, and Y/N

Contains: fluff, kissing, and feelings

Y/N speeds up her walking, she is going to be late to Geometry. Passing by a row of lockers, she narrows her eyes to see '047D'. She rushes to her gray locker, hurriedly calculating her combination. “Ah, shit!” The lock has stopped moving, it's jammed. A few passerby's stares are felt on Y/N's back. The frustrated teenager’s cheeks grow red from the sudden attention. She glances at the clock right above a classroom next to her. Y/N has two minutes.

A raspy voice asks, "Do you need help?" Y/N whips her head to the right in surprise. Fluffy platinum hair reflects the fluorescent school lights hanging from above. The corners of his light blue eyes crinkle in a laugh, as Johnny finds Y/N’s distress hilarious. “Oh, shut up.” Y/N scoffs, frustrated with combination of her lock and the clock quickly running her out of time.

“Say less.” Johnny ushers Y/N out of the way and pulls down on the stuck lock. The shiny metal unlatches with a snap. The boy grins, proud of his accomplishment. “Wow, you’re better than any janitor!” Y/N faux swoons, receiving a snort from her friend. She faces the locker and swings open its thin metal door. A white piece of paper floats down onto the beige tiling. Muttering a ‘What the..’, Y/N leans down to grab the note. Johnny notices this occurrence, becoming intrigued. “Is it a secret admirer?”

Opening the folded material, the letter is a page long. Y/N wouldn’t have enough time to read it now. She folds up the paper while grabbing her math supplies. Shoving two Anatomy books into her unorganized shelf, she slams her locker shut. “I gotta get to class, I’ll let you know what it’s about,” Johnny goes to protest, stating she has plenty of time. “See ya!” Y/N shouts over her shoulder, running to her Geometry class, leaving the tall boy behind.

As soon as Y/N is inside the math class’ doorway, the bell rings. Sighing in relief, Y/N made it! The teacher looks over in disapproval, always expecting her students to be early and ready to learn. Ignoring the glare, Y/N bounces over to her seat, getting a few laughs from her classmates. Elated, and also flattered from a potential love interest, she giggles. Dutch, an aggressive blonde, elbows his desk neighbor. His bushy eyebrows furrow as he tries to keep his voice down. “Don’t tell me Johnny gave you my stash.”

Jimmy grabs a hold of the broken lock at Y/N’s locker. “What’s this?” His tanned hands cradle the metal as he's kneeled on the ground. “Let’s just say I saved the day, Jim,” Johnny gloats, puffing out his chest. A familiar cocky smirk plays on the boy’s face while everyone rolls their eyes. Y/N lightly shoves the teenager, barely budging from his heroic stance. Bobby and Tommy smile playfully at their group of friends. “Let’s get some lunch.”

Cobra Kai saunters into the loud cafeteria. The typical cliques are in their usual spots. The Cheerleaders and Jocks in the center, the Goths in a corner near a large bulletin, the Nerds by the lunch line, and Cobra Kai next to the water fountains. Now don’t get the group wrong, they’re still studs even if they don’t mingle with the Jocks. Tommy just had to get one swing at the football team’s quarterback.

Johnny leads them to the lunch line, reaching forward to snatch a plastic tray for himself. Y/N grabs one along with a shiny spoon and fork. The smell of pizza meets Y/N’s nose. Her stomach grumbles, a hunger rippling through her. “Pizza or salad?” The lunch man grumbles, he'd rather be doing anything else than serving food to rude high schoolers. “Uh, pizza, please.” Y/N requests, waiting for the oven-hot rectangular flatbread to slide onto her tray. And it does, nearly staining the fabric of her white shirt.

Moving her tray to the end of the line, Y/N takes a cup of mandarin oranges and sets it down on her tray. She starts to walk to her seat while her friends pass by her on both sides. The white and gray tiles stick to her shoes as God knows what's been on the floor. Placing down her food, she opens her water bottle she snagged from her locker. The Cobras talk among themselves, laughing about a prank they pulled. Y/N twists her left wrist to open the blue bottle cap. She leans back and begins to take a sip. Cool water hits her parched mouth.

"Y/N, why don't you show us what you found in your locker today?" Johnny questions, more demanding than suggestive. She nearly chokes on her water in excitement. Placing the plastic cap back on, she sets the bottle back down onto the red table. "Sure thing." Y/N reaches her index and middle fingers into her front jean pocket. Her eyes flick up to watch her friend's reactions.

Johnny's eyes glow in anticipation, seemingly more blue then before. Bobby nods her on, his long wispy hair framing his olive complexion. Jimmy leans on Dutch, who could care less, while a small smile is in the making. Tommy fixates on his food, sawing off his pizza with a metal knife. The utensil shines as it reflects the school’s overhead lights. He seems off, really off. Squinting, Y/N makes out a slight hue of pink on the loudmouth's cheeks. He's blushing?

"Are you gonna let us see?" Dutch quips, impatient as ever. Finally pulling out the folded paper, it crinkles as Y/N smoothes it out with her palm. Clearing her throat, she begins to read the letter aloud. "'Dear Y/N, I hope I don't come across as a stalker when I write this. Here goes nothing: You may be surprised when you figure out the person behind this handwriting, maybe even shocked. But let me just say that you are the only person that makes me feel like doing a roundhouse kick to the moon and back'," Tommy laughs, saying how bad ass the scenario sounds. This earns a shove from Bobby to quiet him down.

Y/N continues, "'Yes, I'm that thrilled about you. I guess your smile adds to the feeling. No, I think it's your laugh. I remember when we were at the same showing for a movie and hearing your giggle. What I would do to hear it again! Signing off, Hendrix.'" Silence carries through the group, letting the love letter sink into their minds. Bobby breaks the quietness. "What do they mean by 'Hendrix'?" His forehead creases in thought. "I think it's code." Jimmy pipes, the only Cobra with a decent GPA.

"Well, Jimi Hendrix was a rock artist." Tommy suggests, after being quiet for so long. "Right, but who listens to him anymore? I only have cassettes of Boston and Motley Crue." Johnny's hand comes up to comb through his floppy hair. His mouth full of pizza, Dutch grumbles, "MJ is all the rage now." He imitates Michael Jackson, singing an off key 'Billie Jean'. "Okay, I think we get it," Y/N laughs, as an idea pops into her head. "Does anyone have the last name 'Hendrix' in our school?"

In the library for study hall, Jimmy and Bobby help Y/N flip through yearbooks. A stack of them lay off to the right of the wooden table's edge, about to crash to ground. Her eyes scan the names of people, as her eyes become tired from staring. She closes the book's black cover from 1982, giving up. "I found him!" Jimmy exclaims, as Bobby and Y/N crane their necks to see. The librarian hushes the teenagers, adjusting her glasses that sat on her nose. The fuzzy black and white picture showed an attractive Matthew Hendrix. The glossy page reflected dark hair and a white smile.

"I know this kid! He's by my locker." Y/N pieces together, the puzzle falling into place. Bobby glances up at her yearbook in her hands. "Is he in our grade?" He asks. The teenager doesn't want a guy older than the Cobras, he'll just mess around with them. "No Hendrix is in our grade, he does football." At the mention of the ill-fated sport, Jimmy quickly inquires, "Wait, it's not the guy Tommy punched, right?" Y/N shook her head in confusion. Everyone was either too drunk or high to remember who was in the party's fight.

The next day's events were rather quite interesting. Y/N got another letter from this 'Hendrix'. She opened the note hurriedly. It would be embarrassing for her if any of her friends found out. This second paper gave more details about how much they liked Y/N, but they also gave a reference she picked up on. It mentioned going to a summer camp in '83. Y/N went with the Cobra Kais, but other guys tagged along too.

So far, none of her friends had waltzed up to her, pressing more about the topic. Dutch definitely wouldn't, he scoffs at the slightest mention of romance. It's a wonder that he even dated, let alone lost his virginity. Johnny and Tommy have been far too quiet about these occurrences. Jimmy and Bobby have been the only ones willing to help Y/N find more about this secret lover.

The note only fueled a desire for Y/N to ask Matthew if he was writing her letters. She waits, leaning on her locker, awaiting the moment the said boy would roll around. The beginning of the school hours always dragged slow, as if in mud. Y/N hopes this event would bring her some newfound excitement. The first bell rang, signaling to students they had five minutes till class. A breeze blew on her shoulders as a tall figure slowed down their pace. Matthew slung a dark bag over his right bicep, shoving it into his locker.

"Hey, Matthew, is it?" Y/N's voice inquires, raising in pitch with giddiness. The teenager’s brown hazel eyes sweep over her figure, deciding if he should pick up the conversation. With a light sigh, Matthew nods his head. “Yeah, whatcha want?” Y/N holds up the notes that were slipped into her locker from the past two days. “Have you been writing these to me?” She extends the papers for Matthew to take. A look of curiosity takes over the boy as he accepts the letters. His eyes move back and forth as he scanned the writings.

“I didn’t write these,” Y/N’s heart sank as this encounter did not go as planned. “But the handwriting looks familiar.” Matthew swears he saw this specific printing before, maybe written on his car in red spray paint? Reliving the memory, the red warning scribbled out a ‘NO MERCY’ on his beloved Dodge Turbo’s side. The faraway look in Matthew’s eyes causes Y/N to wave her hand in front of his line of vision. Coming back to his senses, Matthew shakes his head in disbelief.

“Here are your papers.” Matthew presses the letters back to Y/N. She's positive that she nibbled onto the bait of this fishhook. She goes to ask him more questions, but he slammed his locker abruptly. Grumbling something about getting payback, Matthew heads down the hallway, turning the corner. He deserts Y/N, who's left with more questions than answers.

For the next few days, each note gave more and more hints about the writer. So far, with the help of Jimmy and Bobby, she figured out that they like soccer and enjoy running on the beach. It’s not a grand discovery, but Jimmy assured her that every clue counted. Besides, the final note would be delivered today. Y/N is thrilled, she hopes the anonymous lover would reveal who they are.

The Cobra Kai boys have been drifting in and out the letter drama, scrapping up details here and there. She walks into the lunch line by herself, as she chooses a salad today. Y/N decides to walk alone, she's packed with a lot of tests and doesn't have time to wait for the others. “Heya, Y/N.” Johnny greets, changing out his cassette tape in his Walkman. Tommy’s bruised hand covers one of the cassettes nearest to him, its taped title unable to be seen.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asks, as the boy seems to be moving the tape closer to himself. Caught in the act, Tommy stops moving the cassette. He lifts his head to meet his friend’s eyes. A nasty shiner around his right eye stands out against his smooth skin. The boy mentioned he fell down a flight of stairs at a party and tried to catch himself. Hence his purple knuckles.

“Oh, I was just helping Johnny change out his Walkman.” Tommy comes up with, flipping the cassette so it was standing upright, the tape side away from Y/N. Her narrowed eyes dart between Johnny, who fakes a shit eating smile, and Tommy, who doesn't dare move until Y/N lets go of the subject. She sits down, letting the topic dissipate on its own. Her brain's tired enough as is.

“Do you have the final note?” Bobby leans in, his long hair tickling Y/N’s cheek as he questions her. Y/N reaches into her trapper keeper, laying the letter between her and Bobby, reading silently. ‘Meet me at the beach after school, around eight. Bring your swimsuit!’ She almost jumped out of her seat at the butterflies overtaking her stomach. Bobby pats the back of Y/N, lightly laughing. “Well, there you have it. You’ll meet them after all!”

The purr of the Firebird rumbles Y/N’s passenger side seat. The smell of the seawater fills her nose with her window cracked open. Johnny’s bright headlights gives way that they're traveling down the dark road. The whistle of the wind and the thumping of REO Speedwagon hum her ears. It's surprising that she didn’t bribe Johnny to take her, he usually would grumble about it for a while. This time he acted almost glad to take Y/N.

Johnny pulls the car forward and parks it in the beach’s parking lot. She scans her surroundings ahead of her through the glass. The silhouette of a figure is down in the sand, facing the waves. “I think that’s my person. Thanks, Johnny.” Y/N unbuckles her seatbelt, ready to open the door and greet her writer. A tan arm swung out in front of her, holding a piece of paper. This stops her from continuing her motions. “What’s this?” Grabbing the note, she opens it.

The infamous handwriting is there but another one is visible. A more hurried, scratchy one. ‘You weren’t expecting another letter? Calm your tits, it’s just a note from your letter carrier: Make sure kick ass when you meet ‘Hendrix’. He’s really an amazing dude.’ Johnny laughs, slapping his large hands together in amusement. Y/N mouth drops, the charade coming to a close in front of her eyes.

“Wait, so you were the one dropping off the letters in my locker?” Y/N asked, her eyes shining in amusement. Johnny nods frantically, his hair reflecting the moonlight coming in on the dashboard. “Hey, it wasn’t hard to put superglue on the lock. It was pretty sick!” Laughing, she opens the car door, leaving the paper on her seat. “You jerk!” Y/N slams the door shut, leaving an emphasis on her words.

The grainy white sand slows her walking as she approaches the figure. “Hello?” She calls, anticipating rising. Everything has came to this moment, it better be worth it. Brunette hair gently moves in the breeze, as goosebumps rise on her arms. No answer is given. The person’s ears are covered by a certain black foam, connected with wire. Sighing, she nears even closer.

As if expecting the visitor, or listening intensely, an index finger presses pause on their Walkman. Turning their head, Y/N’s eyes widen and she covers her mouth in surprise. A set of brown eyes watch her reaction while they remove their Walkman, setting it down on their blue towel. A smile forms the longer the person watches Y/N. “It’s me.” The voice was bubbly and unapologetically loud.

“Tommy? Oh my god.” Y/N’s face pales as she sets herself down next to the writer. The male leans over to the left and makes a show of taking out his cassette tape. ‘Jimi Hendrix- Electric Ladyland’ is written on the brown Scotch tape. “I’m ‘Hendrix’, Y/N.” She blushes, her face turning a shade of pink. “I figured that out by now, doofus.” Tommy quietly laughs, turning towards her. Silence commences.

Y/N’s heartbeat bangs loudly against her ribcage as she leans in. She pauses, just short of kissing him. Y/N wants to make sure he is okay with going further. Fortunately, hesitation is not in Tommy’s vocabulary. Her eyes close once she feels his lips on her own. His warm hand cusps her face, gently stroking his thumb on her cheek. His abs contract as he rests his back on his towel, his left arm propping up his head.

She lays to left of him, her face creating contact with his. Her hair falls over to the side, moving slightly with the ocean wind. Tommy’s hand rests on the small of Y/N’s back, as the warmth of his body pulls her in further. Running her hands through his hair, she gently pulls. A small groan is released from Tommy throat, rumbling Y/N’s chest. An innocent gesture but not so innocent reaction.

Tommy smiles warmly when the kisses end, fireworks going off in his stomach. Y/N pulls herself up and sits facing the black waves, turning shy with the shared intimate moment. “Come on, let’s go for a swim.” Tommy proposes, rising to his feet and pulling off his gray sweatshirt. His toned stomach pales in moonlight, his crucifix necklace dangling down over his chest. His orange swim trunks are loosely draped over his prominent hip bones.

“Like what you see?” Tommy teases, flexing his biceps. “As if, loverboy.” Y/N retorts with faux annoyance. She grips the bottom hem of her black top as she reveals her swimsuit, shedding her pants. It’s now Tommy’s turn to gawk. He stands like a little kid, with his hands relaxed at his side, his jaw slack. Y/N takes this as an opportunity to rush into the waves, splashing Tommy with the lukewarm water.

“Hey! Come here!” Y/N giggles as he rushes over to lift her up off the ground. He spins her around once, laughing. Her eyes widen in thrill as he lifts her up even higher, getting ready to toss her into the water. Her legs kick in excitement as she grips onto his shoulders. “Ah, Tommy!” She giggles, not wanting him to let go of her. Her eyes lock with his own once again.

Her laughter fades as they gaze at each other. Tommy’s adam apple bobs when he swallows thickly. He’s nervous. She feels herself being let down by the taller. Y/N stands now confused by the change in mood. “Y/N,” Tommy calls, more declarative than interrogative. “Can you be mine?” The water around her ankles feel colder than before.

She nods, gradually getting faster with her confidence. “Yes, yes, yes,” Wrapping her hands around Tommy’s waist she pulls him in for a quick peck. “A thousand times yes.” She turns to exit the water and put her clothes back on. Her boyfriend follows, now noticing the Firebird that’s been there for over an hour. “Are you kidding me? Johnny’s here?” He whines, falling to his knees, his fists pounding the soft sand.

Y/N giggles, amused by his dramatic ways. “Hey, let’s get some fries downtown? Johnny can take us.” Tommy gets up off the ground, grabbing his towel and Walkman. “Fine, it’s a deal. Race you to the car!”

#fanfic #tommy karate kid #johnny lawrence #cobra kai

25 notes · View notes