#this is the last story from the past that I've kept reading from week to week | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fraeyyassblr · 16 days ago

Text

───★ ˙ AWARENESS ̟ !!

: : and how to stop overcomplicating shifting. : :

(DETAILED) part 1: my thoughts.

when I recently discovered shifting just 3 weeks ago, one of the things I noticed in the shifting community was that there were so many people that couldn't shift for years. I was worried about being those kinds of people, and the people that have claimed to be shifters seemed to have waited over 2-3 years (or I thought.. since a lot of shifters have been there since 2020-2021.)

but when I went on tumblr, I always noticed the same simplistic advice. and I noticed that this advice can even be applied for things like astral projecting and lucid dreaming, which was a bigger platform of people where I noticed that it can take people most commonly days, weeks, a month MAXIMUM in the community. there were even those kinds of meditations that were really intense, they could let you see your past life, or heal your chakras, your body.. even prayer counts! but so how come it would take longer for reality shifting when it is equally as complicated as every other practice I mentioned? (4:44PM as I type this)

but most importantly, WHY is it different for others?? And why is it a reoccurring theme btw that others sleep while others shift? Why is there a thin barrier you have to tip-toe over between sleep and shifting, huh?

ofc, I was no lucid dreamer, nor was I an astral projector. but when I saw how reality shifting was, I decided to give it a go..! I overscripted which delayed me 2 weeks of actually stepping into attempting it and I thought that was a bad thing until a shifter, @theoshifts8 , told me that there's no such thing as over scripting, under scripting, or not scripting at all! (but for that, I still recommend y'all to script especially in dangerous realities because someone once shifted to a reality but immediately d1ed the first 2 seconds upon entering.)

I had four shifting attempts and my fourth attempt was the time I mini shifted. last night I tried again, and I mini shifted again but decided to go back on purpose. so it only took me days! but how come?? I was reading stories from other people as well and I've read about a person who taught her younger brother how to shift and he did on his first try, DESPITE BEING A CHILD!! and a girl who was a spirit medium and was told by her grandmother that passed away that shifting was real! and even on shifttok, older shifters would teach shifters how to shift and then they do on their first attempt or after a short period of time! why? like, it wasn't fair!

: : UNTIL I FIGURED OUT ONE THING : :

part 2: my advice put into storytelling.

IT WAS A W A R E N E S S. (not just for that DR because I'm not going to repeat the same advice to you repeated here already.. I mean awareness with the awareness. sounds stupid? Okay hear me out)

before I shifted, I was consuming a lot of things with the rebellion and denial that it would take time to shift.. because that made no sense! why would that be something inevitable if I'M the one shifting right?? I kept nagging myself about that, I was probably using the LOA unintentionally, but sincerely I was not accepting the idea that shifting would take years.

I read a blog which was a letter for shifters who still haven't shifted for so many years, and the key was literally just awareness. I noticed a pattern. it all was just awareness and nothing else mattered. awareness, awareness, awareness. I found it in all blog posts, but most just worded it differently! But how are you supposed to be aware of that DR? Someone left a comment on one of my posts about that too!! to that, I didn't find anything that talked about it.

And even methods!! I noticed they all just used only one thing which was to induce an absence of awareness FROM this reality but a big awareness to your DR. yes, some can including affirming and countdowns but that's just to enter meditation.. so I didn't really take those countdowns and affs seriously, all I focused on was my DR and how it felt. Apparently, THAT was the awareness. like, excuse me???

1. My first three attempts, I was aware that they weren't "failed attempts" because it was something I'm progressing on, but I kept a journal and would notice what I thought held me back. my first shifting attempt? I didn't shift because I forced myself to focus on the guided meditation and ended up taking a nap in the van! (Yes, I couldn't finish meditation in bed and we were in travel and I had nothing else to do but shift, then I slept.)

Why did I take a nap? I wanted to enter the void state and that's when your body is asleep but your mind is awake. the void state detaches all your awareness from your physical reality but my body dragged my mind to sleep with it because I didn't have any mental stimulation, but the meditation which was boring.

2. My second shifting attempt, backround noises. I stopped the meditation halfway because of those damn chickens that kept screaming outside.

but everytime I'd zone out in my room until I take a nap, how come they don't make a noise? I mean, they'd MAKE noise before I zone out but 5 seconds into dozing off, the sounds are gone. and that's before I black out into a nap before I consciously think about that. I remember recording a facetime where I was tired I was about to take a nap but then rewatching the video, THE CHICKENS WERE MAKING NOISES THE WHOLE TIME BUT I DIDN'T HEAR??? That's when I understood the "absence of awareness."

3. My third attempt. I trained myself to ignore the chickens by implementing the dozing off action.. And I'd feel symptoms like being detached from my physical senses and feel like I'm floating around. until I would think about my back and then I feel my back against my bedsheets. But what happened to the feeling of those flashing lights I was seeing? what happened to feeling like I wws moving? those symptoms lasted because I would focus on those symptoms.. apparently that wasn't allowed but I just forgot about it.. though THE MOMENT I thought of my room here, I felt my bed again and I was still. In. My. CR. I learned to visualise my DR to put my awareness there but I focused on my symptoms too much to think about my DR, but when I thought about my CR after being aware that I was shifting, I was in my CR.

I then understood awareness.

4. My fourth attempt, final, I allowed myself to doze off but stimulated my mind to thinking of my DR. And what I mean by this is visualizing, but also doing things, remembering things, I wasn't just laying in bed.. like purposely generating a dream in my DR from here. I got in. For a few seconds. I felt things. I saw things. But then came back again. Well, last night I shifted again and had another mini shift, but it was intentional this time because I was like "oh omg" and a shifter @theoshifts8 (go follow them) also told me that you should think as your DR self like "what am I going to have for breakfast?" okay.

It's all in the feeling and the awareness, NOT the method.

It's not in the breathwork, in counting, in affirming, no it's not.

it's in the awareness. and yourself. It's you. love. It's you.

360 notes · View notes

iamnotoriginalphil · 9 months ago

Text

Story Book Romance (Larissa Weems x f!Reader)

Synopsis: As the owner of a bookstore in Jericho, you've gotten rather good at giving recommendations to your customers. There's only one woman you desperately want to give one to.

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: discussions of discrimination, like one swear word

AN: It's been a hot minute since I've written for Larissa so please be kind. I'm a bit rusty. I hope it's still good.

The first time you’d walked into your shop, you’d fallen in love. It had been an empty space, but you had been able to see exactly what it would become. Inch by inch you built it up into your dream.

All these years later, your bookshop was thriving.

You hadn’t been sure about settling down in Jericho. The town was picturesque and it had a deep sense of history, but you weren’t sure if there was a market for a bookshop. You’d only meant to be passing through. Still, the space had called to you so you’d created a safe haven for yourself.

The large window at the front let in sunlight to warm the room, catching the motes of dust as they spun in the air. Shelves pushed against the walls and freestanding, creating mazes of books for customers to get lost in. Potted and hanging plants bringing some life to the space. The air smelt of ink and paper and stories, the scent you’d grown up with, comforting you even on the darkest of nights.

You hadn’t expected to be so embraced by the community. Perhaps you should have. The quaint town ran at a more leisurely pace than the city, giving the time for browsing stacks upon stacks of books, taking time to read a book on a warm summer afternoon. You’d grown to have the reputation to be able to recommend the perfect book to anyone.

The first time she’d walked into your shop, you hadn’t thought much of it. The bell had rang out, sweet in the quiet atmosphere of the shop. One more customer, one more story, the joy of helping someone discover something they might love. You’re turned the corner and immediately been struck dumb.

She was glorious. It was the first word that had come to your mind when you’d laid eyes on her. Tall, statuesque, elegant. Incredibly beautiful. Red lips had pulled up into a pleasant smile upon seeing you, blue eyes sweeping over your shop with a twinkle lighting her up from the inside out. Silver hair swept up, showing the long line of her neck only made you want to feel her pulse under your lips. The body hugging dress was unfair, leaving you feeling frumpy in your jeans and cardigan.

“Do you need any help?” you’d managed to stutter out, pushing past the sheer awe you felt looking at her.

She hadn’t, her voice smooth and lovely when she’d answered. Her accent made your mouth grow dry and your knees turn to jelly. So you’d turned on your heels and disappeared back into the safety of your stacks. You were lost, and it wasn’t to your own imagination this time.

Despite not being very helpful, she’d continued to come back, slowly exploring your store with each visit.

One such day in early fall, you could be found reshelving in the lull between customers. It had been a busy morning, a group of tourists having swept through for you to clean up after. You were humming to yourself, lingering over each book, doing your best not to let your thoughts linger on the beautiful woman that kept visiting your shop.

Over the last few months she’d come in at least once a week. You’d felt her presence like electricity on the air each time. She’d linger, browsing longer and longer before picking a book and bringing it to the counter to be rung up. Each time she’d offered you a smile, a comment, the brush of her gloved fingers in the exchange. It set your heart racing.

But she’d never asked for a recommendation before. You longed to give her one, to see if the woman you’d built in your head was anything like reality.

The bell above the door rang out. You ignored it, knowing you’d be found eventually if you were needed. Stretching up onto your tiptoes, you pushed a book back into place. Unlike the shelves along the walls, this one didn’t have a rolling ladder for you. Instead, stepstools were scattered throughout, waiting to be of some use to the poor person wanting to reach the top shelf.

A small meow caught your attention.

“I know, Moppet. It is a travesty.”

Your kitten, a calico you’d rescued off the street, had taken to shouting her opinion at you whenever the chance presented itself. In true bookshop fashion, you’d thought a cat would only add to the atmosphere. Unfortunately, yours just seemed to want to complain to anyone that would listen.

Another meow.

“Have you considered using your words?” you asked, scooping her up, “you’re always so quiet, Moppet.”

Her claws sunk in as she clambered onto your shoulder, balancing precariously. You bent your head towards her, letting her bump her own head against your cheek. She rubbed against you, her little purring making you smile.

“Is that the newest employee?”

You startled, your hand coming up to keep from jostling Moppet as you turned. She was standing at the end of the stack, those blue eyes sparkling as they peered at you. Your cheeks heated and you felt frozen on the spot. Approaching, a smile stretched over her red painted lips as she looked at your little kitten.

“This is Moppet,” you said as if that was the obvious answer to the question.

She held her finger out and the little traitor rubbed against it, her purring increasing. She gave her a gentle scratch behind the ear. Those blue eyes met yours and you flushed, entranced under her gaze. The scent of her perfume, something floral and expensive, wrapped around you, turning your head hazy.

“Moppet?” she asked.

“I spent my childhood lost in Beatrix Potter,” you replied.

“And you dismissed Mittens and Tom as names?” she asked.

“She’s much more a Moppet,” you said.

Her tiny paw came out, swiping at her hand, batting her finger away.

“No, Moppet,” you scolded, “we treat people with respect.”

“It’s alright,” she said, taking a reserved stepped back.

“If I don’t teach her now, she’ll be uncontrollable in her adolescence,” you said.

“Yes, teenagers can be difficult,” she agreed.

Moppet gently nudged at your cheek again, stealing your attention. You manoeuvred her from your shoulder, back into your arms. She meowed loudly, her claws digging into your cardigan, getting caught as she struggled. You were patient as you untangled her, listening to her ongoing commentary.

“Can I help you with something today?” you asked the woman when you finally got Moppet free.

You popped her down on the floor. She turned, looking up at you with a grumpy noise, before sauntering off into a more interesting part of the bookshop. Straightening, you forced a smile on your face as you looked up into the face of the towering woman.

“I’ve heard you’re rather good at giving recommendations,” she said into your expectant silence, “I find myself in need of something new. Ideally not about teenagers.”

You considered her a moment, eyes sweeping over her form. It would be so easy to assume she would want something along the lines of a classic, or perhaps poetry. You tilted your head, considering what she’d bought before, where she sometimes lingered in the shop, the references she sometimes dropped.

“I have just the thing,” you said.

You walked off, glancing over your shoulder to find her following you on silent feet. No wonder she kept managing to sneak up on you. She was like a ghost. You thought it wouldn’t be such a horrifying thing to be haunted by her.

Stopping in front of a packed shelf, your eyes roamed over it, searching out the title you wanted. Pushing up onto tiptoes, you tugged one down. You held it for a moment before passing it over to her. Her eyes stayed on you for a moment before they dragged down to the book now in her hands.

“Rebecca?” she asked.

“If you haven’t already read it,” you replied, “I think you’ll quite like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll find it wonderful,” she said with a smile for you.

She returned about a week after, finding you staring up at a tall shelf, hands on your hips, less than pleased. A small face was peeking over the edge, green eyes and whiskers looking surprisingly smug for a feline face.

“No, you can’t stay up there,” you said.

A small disinterested meow.

“I know you like it up there, Moppet, but it’s not safe,” you said in reply.

A long yawn showed you the contempt she felt towards you. You sighed, doing your best not to get frustrated. You could go and find a ladder, but then you might lose her again. She’d wander off and enjoy the game of hide and seek she was forcing you into you.

“You appear to be in a bit of a predicament.”

“She’s playing with me, the little troublemaker,” you said, not bothering to turn around. The bell had been warning enough.

“Do you want some help?” your mystery woman asked.

“Would you mind? You might have an actual chance of reaching her,” you said.

She stepped up to your shoulder, waiting for you to get off the step stool. You watched her ascend, trying not to ogle her like a creep but not quite managing it. Shapely calves led up to the curve of her hips, making your mouth grow dry as you gazed upon her.

“Come on, little one,” she murmured.

A small yowl came from the shadows atop the shelf. She muttered under her breath and then a displease face was dragged over the edge. In gentle arms, she carried your troublemaker back down to you. Her bare fingers were gently stroking along her spine, her gloves not present for the first time since you’d seen her.

“Safe and sound,” she said, looking to you with a wide smile.

“Thanks,” you said.

You took the kitten back from her, ignoring the grumpy look she gave you as you took her from her comfortable lounging position in the woman’s arms. Your hand brushed over hers, soft skin warm against yours. Your heart flipped over itself at the feeling.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said to Moppet, “I warned you.”

Her claws dug in to your forearm as she tried to rearrange herself into a more comfortable position. She rolled until her stomach was facing you, green eyes staring at you unblinking. You scratched her tummy, waiting for her to clamp onto your skin.

“She does seem to enjoy getting into trouble, doesn’t she,” the woman said, snatching your attention back.

“You should have seen her last night. She got into the bath after I’d drained it, then shouted until I came to investigate and made me think she was stuck, then just calmly hopped out and wandered off like I was being ridiculous,” you said, “she likes making me worry.”

“But she’s rather sweet,” she said, stepping into your personal space to offer more pats to your cat.

“Oh, the sweetest. She can get away with anything,” you agreed.

The two of you took a moment to stare into the yawning face of Moppet. She really had stolen your heart. When you looked back to her, she was smiling down at your cat, eyes sparkling, looking just as under her spell as you were.

“Sorry to hijack your browsing,” you said, that sense of shame from taking her attention for yourself burning in your bloodstream.

“I was actually looking for you,” she said, not realising the pulse of pleasure that gave you, “I’m in need of another recommendation. You did so wonderfully last time.”

You’d never thought of yourself as someone who enjoyed being praised but on her lips it sounded so good. You wanted to keep giving her reason to bestow more upon you.

“I know just the thing.”

You didn’t have to go far to get the book you were thinking of. Juggling the cat in your arms with the book you crouched to find, you managed to drop a kiss on the top of her head before releasing her to find more trouble to get in. Standing, you passed the book over to her, purposefully brushing your fingers against hers.

“I know it’s been made into a movie, but the book offers up something more,” you said.

“I’m unfamiliar with the movie,” she said.

“Not a fan of Tom Hiddleston?”

She raised an eyebrow at you and you tried your best not to read too much into it. It would be so easy to read too much into it. Maybe it wouldn’t be too much, if the way she was looking at you spoke to something more.

“Well, anyway,” you said, turning away from her to keep from doing something silly, “I hope it pleases you.”

“I’m sure it will,” she said.

When she turned away from the counter a few minutes later, a couple of your regulars stepped past her, giving her a wide berth. Trying not to show how strange you found their behaviour, you busied yourself straightening the display next to the counter.

“They shouldn’t let them around the rest of us,” one of the women said, uncaring of you listening in.

“They should be left up in that school to rot,” the other said, “they’re a danger to us all.”

“Outcasts have no business bringing their trouble to us,” the first said, before turning to you, “don’t you agree?”

You realised they were talking about your favourite customer. Who must be a teacher from Nevermore. Making her an outcast.

“I’ve never had any issue with them,” you replied evenly.

They both sniffed, turning away from you. You weren’t about to openly insult a portion of your customer base. That would clear out your shop quick smart.

You hadn’t realised she’s still been there to hear your response until the next week when she returned. Moppet was curled up in her basket by the window and you were going around watering the plants while you had a moment of peace. It was quiet in the shop, nothing but the soft sounds of music playing over the speakers and you moving through the stacks.

The bell above the front door rang and you smiled to yourself. You waited a few moments before turning, finding her watching you with an unreadable expression on her face at the end of the stack. You placed the watering can down, turning an expectant look on her. Only then the silence continued to stretch.

“You’ve returned,” you said when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything.

“I have,” she said.

“Did you enjoy Crimson Peak?” you asked.

“It was certainly atmospheric,” she replied.

“I suppose you’re looking for another recommendation?” you asked.

“I am,” she said.

“Nothing set in a boarding school right?”

You laughed. She didn’t. The moment stretched on and on, settling into an uncomfortable silence.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“I’m unused to people choosing to side with us in this town,” she said, her expression still unreadable to you.

“You heard that conversation,” you said. It wasn’t a question. You didn’t need to ask. It was obvious she had.

“If you’d rather, I can return to buying my books online,” she said.

“Why?” you asked, so taken aback by the turn the conversation had taken.

“I understand that normies are wary around outcasts,” she said, “this town has been… there have been issues between the school and the town.”

“I don’t want you to stop shopping here,” you said.

“You don’t care I’m from Nevermore?” she asked.

“Even teachers have to buy books. Why would your place of work matter?” you replied, shooting her a smile to let her know that of course it didn’t matter to you.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” she replied slowly, “although, in the name of honesty, I’m the principal, not a teacher.”

So this was Larissa Weems. You’d heard whispers of her around town, but hadn’t thought you’d met the woman yourself. Keeping away from some of the larger town gatherings had left her more of a machiavellian figure looming over the town from her place in the school.

Turns out, the rumours were completely overblown and they’d hidden the goddess you’d been finding yourself enchanted by more and more with ever encounter.

“Even better,” you said, “so, a new book recommendation?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

You graced her with a wide smile. You’d been thinking about it all week, the next book you’d recommend her. It was a bit of a risk, but you wanted to gauge her reaction to it.

“How familiar are you with early vampire fiction?” you asked, leading her off to your classics section.

“I’ve dabbled in Dracula,” she replied evenly.

“Anything else?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said and you found yourself pressing your lips together to keep from smiling too widely.

“I’ll be interested to hear your thoughts on this one,” you said, “especially since I’ve never met a vampire before. It’s probably completely inaccurate but writers take all kinds of liberties.”

She hummed but didn’t give you much more than that. You paused in front of the right shelf, a shiver of apprehension going through you. It might be a bad idea, giving her the book you were thinking of.

You reached up on tip toes, your fingers just brushing the spine of the book you wanted. You glanced to the side, looking for one of your trust step stools. A warm presence stepped up to your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat as she reached up, over your head, pulling down the book you’d tried to grasp. She was so close, practically caging you against the shelves. She paused a moment, that intense gaze sweeping down to you. The moment spun out like sugar, delicate and sweet, leaving you breathless.

“Was the the one you were looking for?” she asked, voice soft, almost intimate.

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, “that’s the one.”

She took a step back, the book clutched in her hand. Glancing down, her eyebrows drew together and you wanted to know what she was thinking so desperately it was like a physical weight sitting on your chest.

“Carmilla?” she asked, looking back to you.

“One of the original vampire stories,” you said, “I know it’s not the longest but-��

“No, that will do nicely. I have a rather busy week coming up,” she said.

“I’m glad to help,” you said.

She lingered another moment and you weren’t sure what to say to her. The shop was quiet and it felt as if you were inhabiting a bubble of time with her that was seperate from the rest of reality.

“I’m unused to being shown such kindness from people like you,” she said.

“Bookshop owners?” you asked, “cat moms?”

Her smile was indulgent. It made your heart do a backflip and you realised maybe you could spend forever in that aisle with her.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” you said.

“Not everyone is as kind as you,” she said, looking down, refusing to meet your eye.

“They’re idiots,” you said, “your teenagers are no more a danger to us than Derrick who keeps setting fires.”

“I don’t scare you?” she asked, looking at you from under lowered lashes.

She did, but not in the way she was thinking. Just in the normal way that a beautiful woman giving you the time of day scared you. But you figured saying that out loud would be more embarrassing than you could handle at that time.

“No,” you said.

“Not even a little bit?” she asked.

“You’ve been nothing but pleasant to me so unless you’re about to threaten me, I think we’re good,” you said.

She took a step towards you and without thought you took one back. Your spine hit the shelves behind you and your mouth fell open as she crowded you against it. Her perfume surrounded you, her warmth curling around you, leaving you a mess as you stared up into her face. Her lips pulled up into a smirk, temptation never looking better.

“You don’t feel the least bit intimidated?” she whispered.

Her hand rested on the shelf by your head, effectively keeping you caged. Your heart beat hard in your chest and you were sure she could hear it. Her smirk deepened and you found yourself without words. You shook your head. There was no feeling of intimidation, but by god was there something. Something hot and throbbing and desperate.

Cold air hit you and it took a moment for you to realise she’d backed off, leaving you leaning on the shelves while you tried to get your knees to work again. Her face had returned to the unreadable expression and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You tugged on your cardigan, wrapping it around your body like armour to save your vulnerable heart. You were worried it was on display for her, easy to see exactly how you were feeling.

“Did you want anything else?” you asked, not realising how it might sound until her eyebrow rose. Your cheeks heated and you looked down at your feet, your weight shifting from foot to foot.

“I think that’s all for today,” she answered, kindly not mentioning any of your odd behaviour from the last few minutes.

“I’ll just, uh, ring you up then,” you said, cheeks aflame, not able to look at her.

If you did, you might get lost in the thought of how close she’d been, the brush of her body so close, the feeling of her surrounding you. It would be too much for your poor heart, leaving it to beat right out of your chest. You did your best to ignore it as she paid and left your store for the overcast sky outside.

You didn’t see her again for a few weeks after that. The unhelpful voice in the back your head told you it was because she was completely disgusted by you. Between your behaviour and the recommendation you’d given, it wouldn’t have shocked you if you’d driven her from your store entirely. It left you in a funk, one deep enough for your usual customers to take note.

The free teas and baked goods from the Weathervane were appreciated throughout the days as you waited with bated breath to see if she’d come back.

It was on a day, weeks later, the night closing in on you as Halloween approached, once you’d given up all hope on seeing her again that the bell above your door jingled, a cold wind nipping at the heels of your customer. The lamps had been lit, a soft glow giving life to your store against the encroaching darkness. You sighed to yourself, wanting to lock up and wander upstairs, curling under a blanket with a book in hand to forget how quickly you ruined something that had been filled with such hope.

“I was worried you would be closed already.”

That voice, familiar, haunting your dreams, sweet enough to make your heart trip over itself. You spun, almost stumbling over your own feet, desperate to lay eyes on her and make sure it wasn’t an awful hallucination sent to torture you. Larissa stood in front of the counter, her smile slipping as your wide eyes met hers.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” you said.

“I’ve been… busy,” she replied.

There was a weariness to her you hadn’t seen before, like a weight had settled on her shoulders and she hadn’t yet grown accustomed to it. Your hands pressed into the cool wood of the counter, fingers splayed as you tried to remain cool. And yet your heart was racing.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “just the usual difficulties of being responsible for a school full of teenagers.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said.

“With an iron fist.”

Her weary smile lit you up from the inside out. You circled the counter, placing yourself firmly on the same side as her, wanting to be closer. Her eyes followed every step, brightening the closer you drew.

“I was just about to close up,” you said.

She wilted before your very eyes.

“My apologies. I’ll leave,” she said.

“No!” Your voice came out too loud, “I just meant, I could lock up and I could make you some tea. If you wanted. Not that I’m suggesting that that is something you want. But in case it is, I could.”

She chuckled, throaty and low, and a shiver went through your body. Your rambling was hardly the cool suave exterior you’d wanted her to see but you couldn’t help yourself. Around her you seemed to lose all sense of chill and instead turned into a mess of a person.

“I’d love that,” she said.

“Oh.” You perked up, “uh, wait here. I’ll go… close up shop.”

You left her there as you made your way to the front door. Flipping the sign and turning the lock, you looked out on the darkened street. The weather had turned, dark clouds rolling in, covering the moon until there was nothing but darkness pressing in against the window. You shivered, glad you weren’t out in the weather.

She was where you’d left her, inspecting the display of bookmarks you had on the counter. A woman in town made them, beautiful beaded monstrosities to keep your page. Her fingers idly played with one, purple beads contrasting with her pale skin.

“I’ll throw that in for free with your next purchase,” you said, “I have to reward my loyal customers.”

She offered you a small smile, letting the bookmark go.

“That’s very kind of you,” she said.

“Shall we have that tea?”

You led her over to the two armchairs set up for customers to sit in. The antique lamp was on, giving a warm circle of light.

“Um, I’m just going to go boil the water. Do you have a preference on tea type? Peppermint?” you asked.

“Peppermint sounds lovely,” she said.

You took the time for the water to boil in the backroom to try and calm down. It was normal. It was a cup of tea. Nothing to get worked up over. Just the woman you’d been enamoured with taking time out of her day to share a cup of tea with you. There was no need to make it into any more than it was.

You could be cool.

She was sitting in one of the armchairs, elegant in a way you’d never managed. You tried to keep the tremor from your hand as you passed over the cup. Her fingers brushed yours, gloveless again despite the chill of outside. Not that it was cold in your shop. You always made sure it was comfortable inside your four walls.

“What did you think of the book?” you asked as you settled in your own chair, legs curling up underneath you.

“It was certainly an interested read,” she said.

“Did you not like it?” you asked.

She looked at you a moment, those eyes seeing more than you wanted them to. You looked down into your cup, not wanting her to see how much the answer meant to you.

“I did. I found the relationship written between an outcast and a normie fascinating,” she said, slow, careful, as if putting a lot of thought into each word, “but then, I suppose given the time period, a relationship between two women could have been just as shocking.”

“I think it was ahead of its time,” you said.

“What makes you say that?” she asked.

“Because neither of those things matter.”

The way she was looking at you had any more words dying on your lips. It wasn’t that you’d surprised her, more that you’d confirmed something for her. Like you’d shown her a piece of the puzzle she knew you held. Like you were exactly who she thought you were.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” she asked, but you weren’t sure it was actually a question.

“Of course,” you replied.

She nodded, taking a sip from her cup. You followed suit, not sure what to fill the silence with.

“I was curious about your reasoning for suggesting this book to me,” she said when it became clear you had nothing else to say.

“I suppose… I wanted to see your reaction to it,” you admitted.

You looked up at her from under your lowered lashes, hoping to be able to read her expression this time. A look passed over her face, one that spoke of surprise mixed with smugness, not something you were used to seeing.

“I see,” she said.

“Do you?” you asked.

“I think I do,” she replied, “you wanted to see how I’d respond to a sapphic love story between an outcast and a normie.”

A spike of hope went through your heart.

“And how do you respond?” you asked.

“Rather favourably.”

Your fingers convulsively curled around the mug in your hand, the warmth from the ceramic seeping into your bones. Something in her gaze sparked fire in your veins and you felt breathless. She placed her cup down, the noise louder than it shouldn’t have been in the space.

“The first time I walked into this quaint little store, I thought you were the most precious thing in here,” she said, “it’s what kept me coming back. Although, I must say, there is something in the atmosphere of this place that evokes comfort.”

“I thought you were glorious,” you said, not considering the words before they left your lips.

“You did?” Her entire face lit up.

You nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something else, a loud bang came from the front of your shop. You jumped, hot liquid spilling over the skin of your hand. You hissed, placing the mug down before you could properly burn yourself.

She was there in an instant, reaching out for your hand, her fingers soft as they brushed over your skin. You tried to suppress a shiver. She tugged on your hand until you’d risen to your feet, hand closer to her face as she bent over it.

“I’m okay,” you said, “it was more the shock than anything else.”

“You’re not hurt?” Those blue eyes were so close.

“No.” You shook your head.

Her hand didn’t leave yours, the feel of her skin against yours making your head hazy. Even from so close up, she was still easily the most beautiful woman you’d seen and you yearned to close the small distance. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip again and you saw her gaze drag down to it. Your breath caught, the moment suspended in time as you waited to see what she would do.

“May I…”

The rest of her question never materialised. She was still watching your mouth and so you made the decision for her. Pushing up onto your tiptoes, your fingers tightening around hers, you pressed your lips to hers. She made a small noise and before you could pull away her other arm had curled around your waist, keeping you close to her.

You moaned into her mouth as she kissed you back more insistently. You curled your arms around her neck, your body flush with hers. The fire in your veins was igniting, lighting you up from the inside, threatening to burn you up. Her tongue swept into your mouth, her hands on your body leaving you a trembling mess.

Her hands found their way under your cardigan, palms warm through the thin material of your shirt. You couldn’t get close enough, wanting to feel every inch of her. She groaned into your mouth when you nipped at her lower lip.

A displease meow broke through the haze as something soft brushed against your ankle. You jerked back before chuckling at the indignant face glaring up at you. Moppet was making her feelings known in the only way she knew how.

“Sorry,” you said to her, “it’s getting close to someone’s dinner time.”

She chuckled and there was a sense of fondness in it that had your heart tripping over itself. Her fingers came up, brushing over the apple of your cheek before giving a soft tug on the end of your hair.

“I think your chaperone has the right idea. It’s gotten later than I intended and I’m sure I’m needed back at Nevermore,” she said.

You didn’t bother to hide your disappointment. She chuckled again, leaning forward to press her lips to yours in a chaste kiss. Her thumb ran along your lower lip, coming away stained red from where her lipstick had smudged against your skin. You nipped at the pad of her thumb as she drew it back, earning another smile from her.

“I’ll walk you out,” you said.

“Such chivalry,” she said and you were beginning to recognise when she was teasing.

You led her mack to the front door, flicking the lock to release her into the wind and the darkness. You wrinkled your nose at the large tree branch that had landed outside your door. She lingered, right on the threshold, and you found yourself gazing upon her.

“Tonight has been lovely,” she said.

“It has,” you agreed.

Her fingers under your chin, lifting for just a moment before she stepped out into the street. Your fingers clutched at the doorframe, knuckles aching with the cold and the tension.

“Wait.” She paused, turning to look at you over her shoulder, “you didn’t get a new book.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to come back tomorrow, then,” she said before striding away into the night.

Moppet meowed by your feet again. You sighed, closing the door and locking it against the encroaching night. Crouching, you lifted her into your arms, giving her a scratch behind the ear.

“I know, Moppet,” you said when she gave another little meow, “I’m so fucked.”

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems imagine

390 notes · View notes

denv2 · 7 months ago

Text

felix collection🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

This week I only drew Felix!!!

While drawing Felix as a college student, I had a major case of "did they have hoods in this era?" but decided to let it go lol.

I like his zany moment.... I'm going to draw more pictures about this... His unwillingness to go back to zany touched my heart so much.

Below are the stories behind each of the pictures! (long)

First, a trio of smiling faces!

As you can see, it's an early Bendy costume, and I chose it on purpose.

I actually drew Bendy and Boris' faces first, and it's not like Bendy at this point in time, it's a little bit younger, and I like how they both have this really innocent, bright smile on their faces, so it's kind of like the first two kids before they get more serious as the story progresses. Felix... I think it's the same way I've always drawn him, but I think he looks a little bit fuller, lol.

Second, osix.

I actually just drew this.

The trio above was also drawn today, but this one was drawn right before I went to bed.

I just... I wanted to do one more painting and I was thinking about what to do, and I wanted to do Felix and Oswald, and then I realized that they're leaning against something, and then I put Oswald to bed.

Actually, I wanted to draw 'Felix is reading to the Bunny Kids and Oswald is watching' < I wanted to draw this one too, but I was drawn to something simple right now. I think I'll do this one later.

Third, college students Felix and Professor Wilson.

I love the feel of this drawing! I've been thinking about Felix's past lately, and it reminded me a bit of this time, so I really wanted to draw the two of them.

I love the relationship between a teacher and a pupil, and Professor Wilson is kind of like a mentor to Felix. They go to archaeological sites together and share research and expeditions, and it's nice to think about that...

I looked at Wilson's outfit at that time, and it was mentioned that he wore a tie, so I gave him a tie, and I added some eye wrinkles to his face to give him a more 'professor' look, and I think he looks like a kind professor. I think it's okay.

Felix. I wanted to make him look like a college student, so I put a hoodie on him, but when I was done, I realized that the hoodie... I realized it was when the hood didn't come out... but I had already drawn it. And I like the feeling of Felix in a hoodie, so it's a classic error, but please overlook it lol.

Fourth, zany-related Felix.

Actually, this was the first thing I drew. I've been drawing Felix all week, and this was the first thing I did.

This is a drawing of a scene from Chapter 172! I love the description of Felix after he uses his gag ability... I love it. It really stuck in my head...

The description of the shadow holding his stomach and laughing reminded me of one of Felix's trademark poses, where he grabs his stomach, leans back, and laughs. I couldn't resist drawing this.

I love the way he's wary of going back to zany... I think I'll be doing more zany-related Felix drawings for a while.

Actually, there's a story behind this one, I drew it without the hat, and then two days later I realized I needed to add the hat, so I revised it lol. I really, really like that hat on Felix, but it's so annoying when I try to draw it and I forget about it 🤣 It's hard to draw.

Finally, Felix and Alex.

Yeah... I really like the feel of this one. I kept staring at it after I finished it...

I love drawing Felix being angry, but he's not just angry. I feel like that image of him being angry and hateful with very complicated feelings is embedded in my head, and I like the feeling of Alex provoking him like that.

Personally, I think it's their facial expressions and the attitude of Alex's hands.

Let me start with Alex, his eyes... I really like how they came out, I just like the feel of them, and I like the mouth! It's a little bit more smirky than the last Alex, but I think it's more in line with how he's portrayed, and he's zany, so I wanted to give him a zany crazy moment. I love the way he's being pushed around by Felix and he's just laughing and relaxed and holding up his hands with his fingertips outstretched. I keep drawing Alex with his eyelids down. I feel like it's more fitting for him.

As for Felix... I think the way he's hunched over and the way he's frowning and glaring at Alex who's smiling is a nice balance. His mouth is a sharper curve instead of just a straight line. His expression towards Alex last time was definitely disdainful, but this time it's angry and more... It's more complex, and I like that.

Lastly, I want to talk about the side view, because I'm not good at side views... But this time, I tried to draw a side view, and luckily, I found the right proportions, so I think I managed to draw it somehow lol. I drew the tip of their eyes to stick out a little bit, but I drew this part while thinking about the original Felix side view and the depiction of the side sticking out, and then I remembered that Sonic fan art also drew this eye part to stick out a little bit. So I think I'll keep that for Felix's side view. The next thing was the ears, and I liked the way the two characters' ears were pointing towards each other lol.

At this point, Alex and Felix are drawn to have some differences in appearance. Felix's fur is more coarse, so it's longer, sharper, and hanging down, unlike Alex's, which is more groomed. Alex is well groomed and has a nicely trimmed back end that sits smoothly on top! You can get a better idea of this by comparing Felix's star picture. I deliberately made the back of Star Felix's hair a little shorter and higher up than it was before, so that it would be similar to Alex's hairstyle now (although Alex actually copied Felix's hairstyle back then).

It's funny... I've been drawing really hard this week lol. I don't know how long I'll keep this up. For those of you who have made it this far, I hope you enjoyed the chat. I always talk like this because... Because I'm bored, but mostly because I'm going to read it again later... Where else can I read about IM Felix... 🥺

#quest felix #felix the cat #alex the cat #quest bendy #quest boris #quest oswald #osix #babitim #the inky mystery #inky mystery #bendy and boris in the inky mystery #babtqftim

148 notes · View notes

excusetowrite · 9 days ago

Text

Let Him In (3)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Summary: As night gives way to dawn, our actress and Jack finally cross the threshold of temptation they’ve been toeing for weeks. In the blood-smeared haze of desire and secrecy, the line between performance and reality vanishes. What begins with teasing glances and unsaid truths explodes into something primal, possessive, and deeply intimate. Behind a locked door, with their castmates just outside, they risk everything to chase the hunger they’ve been denying. But when the sun rises, it’s not just their bodies that have been laid bare—it’s their truth.

Warnings: Minors DNI. This is what you've all been waiting for. Sex, obviously, I know you'll read it anyways, so see for yourself >:) Also, do you guys think there's more to this story? Struggling to decide if I want to end it here, I've grown quite attached.

The Way We Burn

As soon as they yelled cut and Jack left to get his prosthetics removed, I bolted.

The moment I was off set, the humiliation hit—settling deep in my bones. He knew. Saw right through the last bit of composure I had left. I struggle to see if he’s acting half the time, to find the reason behind any of his actions, yet he’d figured out the one thing I was desperate to keep hidden. If it was that obvious, I must look like a complete fool—not just to him, but to everyone.

He didn’t try to come to my trailer that night. When I heard the knock, my heart skipped. Maybe it was him. Maybe he wanted to talk, to laugh it off, to say I’d imagined everything.

But it wasn’t Jack—it was just a PA coming to tell me that they had to move stuff around and we’d be reshooting some of the "Rocky Road to Dublin" scene on account of the sunrise being in some of the shots from last time. I wouldn’t even have known what to say. “Sorry for being a creep”? “Sorry for liking it too much?” At least thinking about how hard that scene was to shoot the first time helped take my mind off things. It didn’t help me figure out how I was going to manage showing my face tomorrow night. I curled up under the covers, but sleep didn’t come. I kept seeing his eyes—not the red ones, not Remmick’s. His. And I had no idea how I was supposed to look him in the face tomorrow night.

—

The sticky, sweet blood clings to my skin, and the fake teeth and tinted contacts ache in all the wrong ways. But at least I’m not suffering alone—everyone else on set is just as miserable. The first time we filmed this scene we only had an hour and a half before the sun rose. Tonight, we were able to start at midnight. Hailee and I were the last to leave hair and makeup and get to set. When we arrived, Jack was in full, glorious costume, practicing. As hard as it was for the rest of us, this was easily his hardest scene to film.

I was scared for when he’d look at me. I didn’t realize how much it would hurt—how hollow it would feel—until it happened. Not a single stolen glance, not a shared smile, not even a wave. Complete and deliberate avoidance. I must have been brooding too long while we waited on our marks in the inner part of the circle because Hailee looked between the two of us and must have sensed the tension.

She leaned in, the bustle of everyone around us covering her words. “You okay?”

I snapped my attention to her, not realizing how out of it I had been. “Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?” I rolled my shoulders back and started stretching, trying to seem as casual as possible.

“Because you and Jack have been attached at the hip for the past two months, and now you won’t even make eye contact,” she said, eyebrows raising.

I let my mouth hang open a moment while I tried to think of something to say. All I could think about was how his breath had felt on my neck, how real it all had seemed. “Filming that scene yesterday didn’t go so well,” was all I managed. A half-truth. It went really well. Too well—for me at least. I guess that was the problem. I enjoyed it too much. God, he probably thinks I’m such a fucking pervert. Flirting is one thing. What I was hiding is a whole other.

Her eyes widened and she nodded, looking away before swinging back to say, “But I heard you guys actually did really good—”

“It didn’t go well,” I cut her off, glancing up at him. Still looking anywhere but where I was.

We started a few minutes later, and I knew we’d all be exhausted by morning—especially Jack. So many angles were needed. So many takes. We all moved and sang the whole time. At least this time they wanted to add some changes from the first shoot. The digital release would have extra scenes, including at this point—Stack and Mary dancing together as the circle spun around, for instance.

We’d become a real family out here. And tonight, we were having fun—the kind you only get once. I tried to forget about him, just for a little while. To enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime experience: dancing and singing with close friends, filming a major motion picture. Ryan said he loved how we were getting into it and to lean more into the enjoyment, so we did. I threw my head back in a full-bellied laugh, spinning through the circle, my skirt swishing wildly around my legs. Even Jack grinned, though Remmick's joy came with a flicker of something darker, more possessive.

The music was loud—Jack at the center, clapping and singing, leading the rest of us with infectious energy. Stack and Mary danced next to me, giggling into each other, when all of a sudden Michael passed her to Bert with a yelp and a giggle and grabbed my waist and hand, pulling me into a dance. I threw my head back and laughed, letting him lead me in the enthusiastic jig. He pulled me in close. We dipped and spun, laughing through it like kids. His arm tightened naturally around my waist, his hand resting low on my hip as he spun me again. It was genuine—we may have been covered in blood and sweating our asses off in the middle of the night, but we were doing it together. Having the time of our lives.

I didn’t feel his eyes at first. I was too caught up in the motion, in the sweat and music. When Michael spun me back into him, still laughing, that’s when I saw it. Jack’s expression had soured. Whatever flicker of joy Remmick had been wearing was gone. He scowled—at me. At us. As soon as we made eye contact, he set his jaw hard and looked away, continuing on with the scene.

We wrapped that scene in the early morning hours, completely exhausted. Everyone still clapped and cheered, whooped and hollered. We’d done it again. I watched from the sideline as so many people praised Jack, and he responded with half nods, polite smiles, and quiet thanks. He looked gracious—maybe even bashful to anyone else. But I saw it. The tension in his jaw. The way his smile didn’t reach his eyes. To anyone else, it looked like he was just being humble. To me, it looked like he was more upset than I’d ever seen him.

I waited for Hailee to walk to hair and makeup with me, needing the extra support. She made her way over, laughing as she came, and let out a relieved sigh as she linked her arm through mine and we began to walk.

We didn’t get far before he stepped into our path, eyes still averted. We stopped abruptly as he said, “Can we talk?” Hailee eyed me from the side, trying to gauge my reaction. I just looked at him, not knowing whether to be frustrated or relieved.

“I’m tired and sweaty and I want to get out of costume,” I said, landing on frustration.

He looked at me then—really looked at me. Soft, pleading eyes. “Please,” he said quietly.

I folded immediately, nodding and slipping my arm from Hailee’s. She didn’t let go right away. Her fingers lingered against mine in a silent warning. I looked at her and said, “I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

She nodded back apprehensively. As she walked away, she said, “Watch for gators. Or worse.”

We stood there in front of each other for a moment while people continued to file past us off set. He motioned for me to follow him, so I did. We walked toward the dilapidated building that was the old sawmill—Club Juke.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I looked behind us, most everyone having cleared off set. Being all alone over here by the water was creepy, and Hailee's warning rang through my head.

“A private word, please,” he said as he opened the door and let me walk in. It was dark inside, not lit up and staged for filming. The room smelled faintly of dust, wood rot, and old paint. The silence buzzed louder than the music ever had. I walked into the center of the room as he closed and latched the door behind us. I turned on my heel before he could even speak, breath already catching in my throat.

“Jack, I’m sorry,” I blurted, guilt finally winning out. He started walking toward me, but my apology stopped him cold. Confusion clouded his face—and just like that, my courage drained away.

"You're sorry?" he asked, brow furrowed. I began to feel unsteady, the look on his face melting away the courage I had built up.

"Yeah, for—you know," I said, but he just continued to look at me the same way. I shuffled my feet and averted my gaze, heat rising to my cheeks. "For—you know, not telling you about the smut and stuff." He was silent for a few moments, which did nothing to ease my anxiety. I finally looked up at him when I really started to feel like I was melting under his gaze, and he laughed—really laughed—as soon as our eyes met.

"That’s what you think this is about?"

It was my turn to be confused. "Yes?" He continued to laugh, a sort of exasperated sound, before coming toward me. I hadn’t realized how used to him being in my space I had grown, how much of a relief it was to have him close again. I sucked in a breath and exhaled at the scent of him.

"No," he said. "I mean, confirming that it was me was part of the problem, but not like that." He was just within arm’s reach now, close but still hesitant as he looked me over.

"Then what was it like?" I asked quietly.

"Can’t you see?" he said, sighing when I didn’t respond, just stared at him wide-eyed. "I can’t stop thinking about you," he said, voice low. "Not as her. Not as Imogen. You. I’m fucking obsessed, and it’s ruining me."

I stood there, too stunned to speak, my mouth slightly agape. My heart stuttered. I thought I was bracing for anger—mockery, maybe. But not this.

"I thought you’d think I was messed up for it—for hiding something like that. I thought you thought I was a pervert," I finally said, earning a chuckle from him.

"A pervert?" He raised his eyebrows. "I mean, you are, I guess. But I—I'm the true pervert. I can hardly be around you without feeling—feeling the way I feel. It scares me."

I stepped forward, almost closing the distance, and raised my hand to his bicep. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh at the touch, the scent, the proximity.

"How do you feel?" I asked softly, looking up at him. Both of us still in all our makeup.

He opened his eyes and looked down at me before responding in the same tone. "I can’t tell where I start and he begins sometimes." I continued to look at him, trying to understand. "You’re all I think about—all day. The next time I’ll see you. The next time I’ll touch you. I get so excited just to film scenes so I have an excuse to be near you. And I—I get so jealous. So angry. It scares me how angry I get. That’s why I’ve been pulling away. I haven’t felt normal. I’ve never felt the way you make me feel, and it terrifies me. Watching him touch you tonight—hold you, dance with you, laugh with you, fucking look at you—made me the angriest I’ve ever been. I told myself it was just the role at first, toeing the line of method acting too closely. But I realized yesterday I’d been lying to myself. I’m utterly fuckin' obsessed with you. Absolutely infatuated. You’re all I think about. All day, all night," he admitted, a slight flush blooming on his cheeks.

I blinked up at him, warmth rising to my throat. How had I not seen it? I’d been so deep in my own head, I missed all the signs. I stared up at him as his eyes searched my face for any of the answers I didn’t have.

"Say something," he begged.

"I feel the same way," I blurted out.

"What?"

"I’ve always been attracted to you, obviously. Getting this role is the best thing that ever happened to me. But ever since I found out it was you I’d be working with like this, I’ve been struggling. I was grateful just to be near you—any excuse to be touched by you, to have your attention. I think about you in ways I shouldn’t. All day. All night, too," I added sheepishly. "Yesterday was the best sex I’ve never had. And that’s saying something."

He continued to look at me as if in disbelief before sharing, "How I felt yesterday scared me. That’s why I pulled away. For the first time, I couldn’t separate myself from him—not unless I pulled away entirely."

Something in his eyes—hope or hunger or heartbreak—I didn’t know. But I wanted to give in to it. Just this once. I waited a few beats before whispering, "Then don’t."

"Don’t what?" he asked.

"We can pretend. For one night, we can pretend," I said, sliding my hand to rest over his blood-covered chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath.

He let out a deep sigh and rolled his head, fighting some internal struggle before looking down at me. Me, staring up at him—doe-eyed and full of trust and arousal. He grabbed my hips and pulled my body flush with his. I could finally feel the proof of just how badly he wanted me.

"Are you sure?" he asked, so quietly I could barely hear. I nodded up at him.

"I need to hear you say it," he demanded softly, his hand going to my hair, gripping gently but firmly.

“Yes,” I breathed out as he pulled my head to the side, “Remmick.”

He groaned, and then he was on me.

At my neck. The sob of relief I let out was palpable—a lifetime of frustration and yearning. He kissed, sucked, bit—blood and teeth be damned. I didn’t care if he left marks. I’d waited too long for this.

His hands slid from my waist to where my shirt was tucked in and as he moved to kiss me on the mouth his hands slipped under my skirt, and in one smooth motion, he peeled off my blouse and tossed it aside. I knew it was warm but the air against my suddenly exposed skin sent a chill down my back and goosebumps down my arms. The air kissed every inch of skin like it was claiming me.

We kissed fast and feverishly, his teeth gently biting down on my lower lip, demanding entrance, which I gladly granted. I could taste the blood on him—we were both covered in it. We kicked off our shoes before he grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up against him, carrying me to the only open door—the room where Sammy and Pearline fool around. I could feel his hardness pressing against me as we walked, could feel his strong arms wrapped around me. As we kissed, he made quick work of unclasping my bra and slinging it somewhere behind us. We both smiled into the kiss as we went.

In the room, he set me back down on my feet before him, and I stared into his eyes as he slung his suspenders off and lifted his shirt over his head. I let out a frustrated sigh at the blood running down his neck and chest—at the marks I had left just yesterday. Before he could finish, I unclasped my skirt, letting it drop to the floor, leaving me in just the red panties I had put on that morning. He groaned, low and deep, looking me over from top to bottom.

"Lie down," he demanded, and I obliged. The backs of my knees hit the box as I sat, then laid back, legs still dangling. "Put your arms above your head like you did yesterday." I did as I was told, the movement giving him a better view of the blood covering my breasts. I smiled up at him, all teeth, as he palmed himself while looking down at me.

I went to move, to say, "Let me take care of that—" but he cut me off by gently but firmly pushing me back down and kneeling before me.

"No, I take care of you first," he said, as he slid his fingers through my waistband and pulled the red panties down my bare legs. Finally, I was laid before him in my entirety—exactly where I was supposed to be. He must have been thinking the same thing because he said, "Look at me. Don’t look away."

I did as I was told and felt two fingers slide through my slick folds. I let out a moan and threw my head back—and immediately, he pulled away. A groan left my mouth as I looked down at him, frustrated.

"I told you not to look away." I nodded in understanding and, this time, held eye contact as he reslicked his fingers. He rose above me, leaning in close as he said, "I want to see you when I enter you for the first time." He hovered just above my face—too far to kiss, just close enough to stare, enthralled. Then, slowly, he slid two fingers into me. I gasped, and he groaned.

"God, you’re so tight. So wet for me too." I nodded as I struggled to maintain eye contact. His eyes searched my face as he pumped his fingers in and out like he was fascinated—enthralled with the control he had over me.

His thumb slid up to begin rubbing circles around my clit, earning a deep moan of satisfaction from me.

"Can I please touch you?" I begged.

He nodded, so I reached up to touch him—any part of him. I tried to pull him down to kiss me, to feel more of him, but he didn’t budge. So I turned my head and began kissing his arm where it was braced next to my head. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, he moaned at the mess I was making of his arm.

He knew just how to touch me, like he’d spent years figuring it out. My orgasm coiled tighter in my belly, seconds away from tipping over—when he stopped. Just stopped. I gasped, then groaned in frustration. He only smirked as he began to move down my body, his hands trailing over my breasts and down my stomach, smearing blood as he went.

He began to kneel between my legs, spreading me open.

The floor creaked beneath his weight, grounding the dizzying heat in something real.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m tasting you the first time I make you cum.”

The sight of him between my legs was almost enough to send me over the edge already. I half sat up on my elbows as he placed one of my legs over his shoulder, one hand wrapping under me to rest on my abdomen, the other sliding two fingers into me again. I moaned in satisfaction and threw my head back as he slowly began to pump in and out. He was so close to starting—I could feel his warm breath against where I so desperately needed his mouth.

Before he began, he admitted, “I was so close yesterday. I could smell you, see how wet you were for me. I was under your skirt—no one would have known if I had just—”

And there it was, finally. The soft contact I so desperately needed. His fingers pumped into me with perfect rhythm as his tongue lapped and sucked at my clit.

I brought my hand down into his hair and tugged him closer, earning a deep growl that vibrated through me. I was already close, moaning loudly and lewdly, when I looked down and saw him looking up at me. His gaze commanded mine, like he knew every tell I had. I stared into his eyes as I came for the first time.

He didn’t stop. He removed his fingers, raising them to my lips for me to suck clean. I didn’t need him to tell me—I just did. I tried to stay still, but his tongue quickly drove me to overstimulation. That’s what the other arm was for. He held me firmly in place, thighs squeezing around his head, my hands trying to push him away as I gasped for air.

“Pl–please–Jack–I’m gonna—”

His hand—no, his palm—suddenly covered my mouth. I bit down hard as I came again, the only thing keeping me from screaming. White-hot pleasure burst through my body, stealing my vision, making me shake. He kept going just a moment longer, then finally stopped, knowing my limits.

I lay there, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling. After what felt like hours—but was only seconds—I sat back up on my elbows and looked at him. He knelt between my legs, smirking, blood on his face and chin now mixed with me.

“Don’t know how I’m going to explain this to the costume department,” he said.

A confused look crossed my face as I glanced down to where he was looking. His chest was dripping wet, his pants soaked. My eyes widened. “I’m so sorry—I couldn’t control it. I didn’t even know I could do that.”

His smug satisfaction only deepened. “Aye, don’t be sorry,” he said, rising to stand. “I’d rather tell them I pissed myself than have you apologize for that.”

He was still talking, but my eyes locked on the large bulge at eye level. My mouth watered, all the relief I’d just felt gone, replaced with raw need. He moved to grab my skirt for me, but I caught his arm.

“Jack, Jack, I need more,” I begged.

He slowed, looking at me as he shook his head. "You don’t owe me anything—"

"Please, Remmick. I need you."

His eyes darkened as he dropped the skirt, hands immediately going to his belt buckle and unclasping it in one swift motion. I reached up to grab at his pants, tired of him doing all the work. Let me do something. I needed to do something. He let me unbutton him, let me pull the rest of his clothes off and toss them to the side. Now we were even. He stood before me, hungrily looking down at me.

And I met that hunger. Reached for it. Owned it. I was fully sat up now, looking up at him wide-eyed. He wasn’t going to make the first move. He wanted me to. So, I reached out and grabbed him, stroking the bead of precum down his shaft tentatively, testing the movement. His head rolled back, eyes closed as he let out a deep groan of satisfaction. I continued for a few strokes, gaining my footing, before I took him into my mouth.

He gasped, hand flying to my hair to rest there, nestled in and guiding me. His groans were loud. I tried my hardest not to hurt him with my teeth—I must have been doing a good job because before I knew it, he was pulling my head away.

"Love, if you want to go any farther tonight, you have to stop that now. If not, I’m going to finish."

My only response was to lay back, scooting my butt as I went until I was fully laid on the long box, spreading my legs wide for him and maintaining eye contact.

"Fucking Christ," he breathed before climbing onto the box and over me, nestled between my legs, one arm braced beside my head, his other hand stroking himself lightly.

"Are you sure?" he asked one last time.

I bit my lip and nodded.

"Then beg," he whispered, low in his throat. There he was above me—red eyes and all. The obsessive man I had become obsessed with.

I breathed the words into the space between us, trembling with need. "Please, Remmick. Please fuck me."

His brow pressed into mine as he slid into me, both our eyes going wide. No gasp, no moan—just my mouth hanging open in stunned, stretching pleasure as I adjusted to the size of him. Before I knew it, he was moving, slowly at first, head nestled in the crook of my neck planting kisses and love bites. I turned my head against his cheek, feeling his jaw scrape against my skin, slick with sweat, spit, blood—us. I moaned quietly in his ear. Small, lewd moans only for him.

His thrusts became harder, drawing louder sounds from me as he kissed up my neck to my ear, scraping his fangs lightly as he went.

"Tell me you’re mine," he whispered.

I turned my head to look him in the eyes. "I’m yours. I’m yours, Jack. I’ve always been yours."

I saw the softness return—the man I had spent countless nights with, laughing in my trailer and on set. I saw admiration—more than that—love, as he looked down at me. Then his lips were tenderly on mine, and we stayed there for a while, kissing passionately as our pleasure built.

"Fuck," he groaned, suddenly sitting up. He was now kneeling between my legs, hands gripped tightly on my hips, looking down at me as he thrust. So similar to the position we were in yesterday—his face the exact same, chest heaving hard. The sight of him there, still in costume as Remmick, nearly pushed me over the edge.

He grabbed my legs and lifted them onto his shoulders before leaning down over me again, the position allowing him to reach impossibly deep. I never knew I was this flexible, but God, am I thankful to find out. I was close to my third, and I could tell he was close too.

That’s when we heard it.

"Jack!" Hailee called from nearby outside. He slowed, frustration furrowing his brow. I reached for his hips, grasping for him to keep going, but it was clear he was going to stop. I let out a groan—but then, my name. Not Hailee—Michael called my name from outside.

He stilled, eyes flashing with irritation, the sound of my name on someone else’s lips slicing through the air. They had come to look for us after we didn’t show up to get out of hair and makeup. Jack's whole body tensed over me—and then he began to move again, faster than before.

They were just on the other side of the door. One wrong sound and they'd know. But it did nothing to slow Jack down.

Then they were at the door of the Mill. It was locked from the inside, but they still pulled on it and tried to get in. I was so close—so impossibly close. He was pounding into me at an impossible speed, at an impossible angle. My hand flew to cover my mouth as I began to reach my climax, and immediately it was yanked away and pinned above my head. I bit my lip, hard, looking up at him, searching for answers.

He was moaning loud, seemingly on the edge, and all he said—breathless and feral—before spitting on his fingers and reaching down to rub my clit was, "Mine."

I came—hard—screaming his name. I couldn’t help it. The same white-hot flash tore through me, a thousand times more intense than the last. He must have been waiting, or the feeling of me finishing pushed him over the edge too, because as soon as I was done riding it out, he was right behind me.

From outside, I heard Michael say, "Oh, shit." Hailee's laugh followed, fading as they walked away.

My legs were gently lowered as he collapsed on top of me, chest heaving, still inside me. I breathed heavily too, my hand running gently through his hair as his head rested on my rising and falling chest. Finally, he looked up at me.

I raised an eyebrow. "Was that really necessary?"

He chuckled. "No, probably not—but we were pretending, remember?"

"Hmm," I said, trailing my hand along his chest and arm mindlessly. "And are we still pretending?"

He waited a moment, trying to read my face. "That depends on how badly you don’t want everyone to know about us. Because—they’re gonna know."

"I’m fine with everyone knowing. Just feel like there might’ve been a better way to tell them, is all."

We both laughed, and he brought his hands up to caress my face. That’s when I noticed his hand—the blood. Real blood. I grabbed it to look at the puncture marks.

"Jack, you’re bleeding," I said, worried.

He chuckled, pulling his hand away nonchalantly. "Small price to pay for making you squirt."

We both laughed again, and he added, "Gonna have to explain that to costumes too, ‘cause I definitely got it on my pants when I was admiring my work."

I smirked at him. I should’ve felt embarrassed—but instead, I just felt... satisfied. For the first time in a very long time, if ever.

We laid there for a while, me on his chest, his hand in my hair, just feeling each other breathe. Listening to the sound of his heart.

"Sun’s coming up," he pointed out. And indeed, through the open door, I could see the line of sunlight starting to stretch across the room beyond.

I began to move. "Fuck, we gotta get these costumes back—they’re gonna be pissed," I said, rummaging around for my clothes, Jack close behind me.

"Yeah, and these contacts are really starting to hurt my eyes," he said with a laugh, pulling on his pants.

I chuckled at him sideways and tossed him his shirt.

I followed him to the door. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at me before unlocking and opening it. Then he turned to me, smiling gently as he reached out his hand. I took it—and together, still marked and aching—we stepped into the rising sun.

#jack o'connell #jack o'connell fic #jack o'connell x reader #remmick #remmick fanfic #remmick fic #remmick smut #remmick x reader #sinners #sinners fic

127 notes · View notes

plussizefantasia · 1 year ago

Text

Unsure Hearts

Read Part One Here: Fluttering Hearts

Warnings: Reader gets grabbed, alcohol, I think that's it tbh

an: heyyyy... sorry I was MIA, lots of stuff going on I'll post an update about it soon. In the meantime enjoy part two of the Kili x reader fic from Flufftober. I think this will be a five-part fic including an epilogue and the next two parts are already underway. I've also got some requests ready to be edited and posted soon. Thank you for bearing with me, much love <3

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Thorin was getting worried, Kili had become somewhat of a ghost story over the past month. He had assumed that his nephew was simply doing his duty. Kili had volunteered to be the envoy between Dale and Erebor for the discussions of armament and training. However, that treaty was signed a week ago, and said envoy position was no longer needed. So why in all of Arda was Kili still going to Dale every day? The young prince left as soon as he was finished with his daily tasks and didn’t return to the mountain until well after the sun had set. Thorin was not worried for his nephew's safety, after all, Kili was an excellent warrior and could take care of himself, no, Thorin was worried for Kili’s heart.

Fili had also noticed his brother’s absence but the blonde prince had always been a bit more perceptive than his surly uncle. Fili had noticed that Kili was missing, but he also noticed that every time he returned to the mountain it was with the most dopey grin that he had ever seen. A grin that he recognized, for it had also graced his face a few months ago when he met his beloved Alma. Fili would bet his beard on it, Kili was in love.

You on the other hand were getting more and more annoyed each time the brown-haired dwarf walked through the front door. He was charming sure, and polite. But he stared. At you. The whole time he was there. And he was there a lot. His attempts to engage you in conversation were far and few between, the few times he was able to grab your attention away from the bustling building he became tongue-tied the moment your eyes landed on his.

Kili didn’t understand why he couldn’t say more than a few words to you without choking on his words. Your eyes had to hold some kind of spell within them. They enchanted him and left him bewitched every time he caught their gaze. It left him frustrated, he had never had this much trouble with women before, why were you so different? Deep down he knew though, you weren’t just any woman. He was afraid though, afraid that naming what you were to him out loud would make it real. And when it is real, it can hurt you.

There weren’t very many stories on One’s where the love didn’t end up requited, either because it just simply never happened. Dwarves were incredibly stubborn creatures after all, and it was entirely possible that they just wore down their other half until some sort of connection formed. It was also possible that those unfortunate few who weren’t able to woo their other half died of broken hearts. The former was unlikely as Kili kept having to remind himself, he couldn’t die of a broken heart. Right?

He was determined tonight though, to find out definitively if the sparks he felt for you were just interest in the handsome woman from Bree, or if you truly were the other half of his soul. To do that though he would need to say more than a few words to you. The problem with that was that you seemed exceptionally busy tonight.

Busy you were, Brant had told you last night that he was going to be leaving today to go to visit family for some type of emergency.

“If the place is still standing when I get back, we’ll talk more about it becoming yours someday.” He had said. You were hoping that that ‘someday’ was sooner rather than later. Brant was getting up there in years. Just last week he had hurt himself trying to lift one of the barrels of ale that had been shipped in from the Iron Hills. You had been taking on more and more of his old tasks and to be completely honest, it felt like you did the job of an owner anyway, just without all the benefits.

You weren’t going to let the man down though, even if it did mean rushing back and forth all night trying to keep up with demand all by yourself.

“Another! Y/N,” was yelled in front the back of the room. Roland was a boisterous man who got along with everyone, he was only a year or two older than you and was currently on his eighth pint of the night. He had a large countenance and seemed to fill up whatever space he occupied, he was handsome but the more and more he drank the less his looks mattered. Usually, this is the point in the night where he starts bordering more on unruly rather than fun-loving. Nevertheless, he was a paying customer and as long as he could still walk on his own out the doors, you weren’t going to say no to his money.

You grabbed another pint glass and poured one for him, balancing it and several other drinks on a tray. You steeled yourself with a deep breath before running back out into the fray.

Walking close to the stool he was sat on you leaned slightly over him and placed his pint down on the counter beside him. He was engrossed in the conversation between the large group of men, something about the best way to skin a buck, you weren’t really listening. As you grabbed his empty glass to take back to the kitchen to be washed, his large hand encircled your wrist none too gently.

“A pint is a wonderful thing, but it is even more delicious when served by a beautiful lady,” He whispered into your ear. You grit your teeth and roughly pull your hand back.

“Now, Roland, what have we said about touching things that don’t belong to you? Huh? Touch the wrong thing and you might just lose your hand.” You spit back at him. Cutting your eyes up at the mounted swords that rest above the fireplace only a few steps from where the two of you are. “I’d hate to have to clean those swords, they are sharp.” You look back into his eyes, satisfied with the fear that you see within them. You stand back up and place your tray back upon your shoulder.

“Anything else I can get you gents?” You question the other men scattered about the space. Silence reigned over the air for a few moments.

“Alrighty then.”

A pint here, a glass of wine there, and two hot meals delivered later, your tray was empty and everyone in the place seemed momentarily satisfied.

Letting out a breath you lean up against the counter.

“What did you say to him?” A somewhat familiar voice pipes up beside you. You turn your head towards the voice. It's the dwarf prince, and you are once again struck with just how handsome he is. You are also struck with the familiar feeling of annoyance, of course, he picked now to talk to you. Just when you had finally afforded yourself a break.

“Hmm?” You raise a singular eyebrow at him. “Who?”

“That large and very drunk man in the back, I couldn’t hear what you said but I could see the look on his face. It was similar to my brother’s when our mother would scold him for forgetting his manners.”

“That’s not too far off actually, Roland over there got a little too comfortable and touched something that didn’t belong to him, I had to remind him of the rules.”

“And what exactly did he touch that was so forbidden?” The prince smirks and laughs.

You smirk back and lift a glass to your lips before uttering one single word, “Me.”

All of the laughter drained from Kili’s face, “He touched you?” His voice had gotten much lower, his eyes darkened right before you.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to stop you right there Your Highness, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t need some man, no matter how handsome he is coming to defend my honor every time I’m even remotely slighted. The trail of bodies will get far too long.” You stare into his eyes as you speak, putting all the righteous fury you’ve got stored inside into each word.

Seconds tick by before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think that we have bigger problems if that is the only thing you got from that.” You took another sip.

“No, no, no I got the point, you don’t need a big strong man to come to your rescue. Lucky for you, I am not big.”

The laugh that sprung from the back of your throat caught you off guard, you slap a hand over your mouth in an impossible effort to catch it and shove it back inside. He was funny, he had never been funny before.

Kili liked your laugh even though it was closer to a snort than an actual laugh, and he would be foolish to ignore the way his heart picked up at the thought that he was the one who made you laugh.

“You- I- I have never heard of a dwarf who makes fun of themselves, in my limited experience your lot are very prideful.”

“Not as prideful as some other races, I should think.”

“No, you’re not nearly as prideful as the pointy-eared bastards who hole themselves up in that accursed forest.” Your words held a healthy amount of rage as well as teasing.

“I sense that there is a story there somewhere.” Kili raised an eyebrow, mimicking your face from earlier. He was desperately trying not to think about the fact that this was the longest conversation the two of you had had up to date.

“One that I’m going to need a lot more liquid courage before divulging, I’m afraid.”

“We can make that happen.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows and pointed at the bottles of liquor behind the bar that separated the two of you.

At that very moment, a shout from the rowdy bunch of men in the back rang out, calling for another round.

“Duty calls your highness, but perhaps I will tell you that story… another time.” You winked at him and grabbed for your tray again, beginning to load it up once more. If that is how conversations with the dwarf prince went all the time, you wouldn’t mind having them more often.

You walked away before Kili could come up with a response, but he was more certain than he ever had been that your heart called to his. Why else would the very sight of you walking away feel like his heart was leaving too?

Read Part 3 here: Troubled Hearts

tags: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10

655 notes · View notes

coolemmasulivan2 · 9 months ago

Text

Rewinding Us | 4

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: You and Mason built a love story over five years, but after an accident, your memories are wiped away, including any feelings for your constant bickering "rival". Can you remember your love story with Mason, or will you have to start all over?

Word count: 2523

YYou can read more chapters here.

You are the only one I'll ever love Looking back on my life You're the only good I've ever done (ever done) Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone (anyone) Not anyone

The weather in Manchester was unpredictable, providing you with both happiness and annoyance. When you longed for the chill of winter, the sun would shine and when you craved a dose of vitamin D, the sky would unleash an amount absurd of rain. Today was no exception. It was August and it felt like nature was teasing your wish for some sunshine.

You returned home after a long day at work, packed with groceries for dinner. It had been a week since you'd returned to Manchester, and tonight, you were finally going to see Mason again. He had a reason to visit, something to pick up from the house and since you were aware of everything, he'd simply asked instead of sneaking in when you weren't home.

Since your last encounter, Mason had encouraged you to reach out whenever you had questions about your shared history. True to his word, you had bombarded him with texts, curious about the memories that were slowly coming back to you. The most recent memory had occurred at three in the morning when you dreamed about a dog.

You: Did we had a dog?

Mason was fast asleep when his phone buzzed, the sound jolting him awake. Without moving his face, he reached out and grabbed the phone, his fingers fumbling in the darkness. As he saw your name on the screen, his heart skipped a beat. Worry gnawed at him as he unlocked the phone, fearing the worst.

When he read your question, his relief turned into a mix of amusement.

"She's going to kill me!" He muttered, sinking back into the pillow.

He quickly typed out a reply, attaching a photo of Ace.

Mason: We still do! His name is Ace.

The photo showed Ace sitting beside you by the pool, your smile bright and infectious. Seeing the image, you couldn't help but smile.

That night, you bombarded Mason with questions about Ace, your curiosity insatiable. Later that day, when you turned on the TV and saw him preparing for a match, you let out a curse. You'd completely forgotten about his game. He'd stayed up late, answering your endless questions, when he should have been resting.

Today, knowing Mason was coming over, you asked if he could bring Ace and without even realizing it, you ended up inviting him to dinner. It wasn't a romantic dinner, you kept reminding yourself. Just 'friends' having a meal.

Since the kiss you exchanged in the car, you couldn't stop thinking about him. The constant texting wasn't helping. One moment, you'd despise him, and the next, you'd be imagining what lay beneath his clothes.

Cooking had always been your therapy, you were always good at it, so that wasn't the problem. What made you nervous was not knowing what to wear. A dress? You were at home. It wasn't a date. Why did it matter?

"Just wear something casual but nice." Your friend and coworker, Dianne, said over FaceTime. "Like a blouse or a nice shirt. I mean, Mason would probably love you even if you were wearing a potato sack."

You threw the long summer dress you were holding onto the bed. "You're not helping." You muttered.

"I'm just telling you the truth." She insisted. "That man is so head over heels for you, he wouldn't notice if someone else was in the room."

A blush crept across your face. It was nice to hear those kinds of things, to know you were loved and appreciated. Your past relationships had been a series of disappointments, but with Mason, it seemed different.

"Since we came back, I can't stop thinking about him." You admitted, running your hands through your hair. "It's like… something clicked when he told me we used to date. Sometimes I want to punch his stupid face but at the same time I…"

"At the same time, you want to jump on him." Your friend finished your thought.

You groaned, falling back onto the bed. "I hate this!" You exclaimed, tossing your phone onto the mattress making Dianne face the ceiling.

"Girl, I've seen your relationship with Mason. You love him, and he loves you. You're that perfect couple who's still in their honeymoon phase, and it's inspiring to watch." She said, her voice filled with admiration. You listened attentively, her words sinking in. "Don't be afraid to approach him." She encouraged you.

You thanked her for her support and ended the call.

Gathering the clothes from the bed, you opted for a pair of nice jeans and a floral tank top. The weather outside was miserable, but inside the house, it was warm and cosy.

The food was in the oven, and you were chopping tomatoes and onions for the salad when the doorbell rang, making you jump. Ace's excited woof echoed outside the house.

Drying your hands, you hurried to the door barefoot, nearly tripping over the rug. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

A wave of happiness washing over you as you saw Ace running towards you, his tail wagging furiously. He'd missed you, that was clear.

You crouched down, welcoming Ace's enthusiastic jumps and licks. Dogs had always been your favourite, growing up with more than one back in the day when you lived with your parents. You spent a few minutes showering him with affection, your worries - or even Mason - temporarily forgotten.

"Hello, Ace." You said, stroking his soft fur. "You're so pretty, you big goofball." Ace's tail wagged with happiness. His eyes, filled with love and adoration, mirrored your own emotions.

Mason stood behind and watched you interact with Ace, a tender smile playing on his lips. His love for you was evident in his gaze.

"Hi." You managed to squeak out, your voice barely audible.

"Hi." He replied, his voice equally soft.

You stood up, Ace disappearing into the house. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your nerves showing. Mason mirrored your posture, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

"Come in!" You insisted, opening the door wider.

Mason mumbled a thank you and stepped inside, the familiar scent of home washing over him. "It smells good." He commented as the smell from the kitchen hit him.

You closed the door behind him and smiled. "Thank you. Dinner's almost ready. I was just finishing the salad."

He followed you into the kitchen. "Need help?" He asked.

"No, you can sit." You replied, continuing with the salad as he sat on a stool by the kitchen island. "Thank you for bringing Ace."

Mason watched as Ace wandered around the kitchen, his tail wagging happily. "Why don't I let him stay here and see if you feel the same way after." He suggested a playful glint in his eye. You stopped cutting the onion, your eyes locking with his. "It was a joke, Y/n." He added, sensing your reaction.

"But he can stay!" You persisted, your eyes sparkling. "I love dogs."

Mason chuckled, his heart melting. "He's your dog too." He said. "It's only fair to share custody."

You grinned, looking down at Ace. "Did you hear that, goofball? You're staying with me!" Ace's tail wagged with enthusiasm. Mason couldn't help but smile at the heartwarming interaction.

Mason had placed the salad on the table when the oven timer beeped. You grabbed the oven gloves and started walking towards the oven, but Ace, catching you by surprise, ran between your legs, causing you to lose your balance.

"ACE!" Mason shouted, his voice filled with both irritation and concern. He quickly reached out, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you towards him. Your back pressed against his strong chest and you could feel his warm breath against your ear. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with worry.

His hand rested on your belly, his warmth seeping through your tank top. For a moment, you felt an overwhelming urge to turn around and kiss him, but you resisted, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm fine." You whispered, your voice barely audible. "Thank you."

You didn't step away, and neither did he. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, a familiar sensation that sent a shiver down your spine. You stood there for a moment, lost in the moment until Ace's loud woof broke the spell.

As Mason stepped away, you felt a pang of disappointment. "Let me help you." He offered, taking the oven gloves from your hands.

He carefully removed the food from the oven and placed it on the table. You both sat down, the aroma of the meal filling the air. Ace sat at your feet, his tail wagging hopefully.

The dinner passed in a blur, the awkwardness of the beginning replaced by a comfortable ease. Mason's ability to make you laugh was infectious, and before you knew it, hours had flown by.

As you cleaned up the rest of the kitchen, Mason reminded you of the time. "It's getting late." He said, glancing at the clock. "I guess I should go get my things." You nodded, a pang of disappointment settling in. He dried his hands on the kitchen cloth after helping you and then disappeared upstairs.

You didn't want him to leave. The thought of staying alone in the big house again made you feel unsettled. Having him by your side felt comforting and familiar, and you didn't want that to change.

Ace, curled up on the living room rug, looked up at you. "Guess it's just you and me, goofball." You said, playing with his fur.

A chill had settled in the air, and you shivered involuntarily, so you grabbed the blue Nike hoodie you had left in the bathroom and you pulled it on.

As you sat down on the sofa, Ace eagerly joined you, his head resting on your lap. You turned on the TV, the soft glow illuminating the room.

Mason's footsteps sounded from the hallway. "Y/n?" he called out.

"In the living room." You replied.

"Have you seen a blue hoo--?" He stopped when he saw you wearing the hoodie he was looking for.

You shifted uncomfortably. "Is it your hoodie?" You asked him, realizing why the hoodie was so big on you. "Sorry, I didn't know." You grabbed the ends, ready to take it off, but Mason quickly stopped you.

"It's fine." He said, a playful glint in his eye. "It looks better on you anyway."

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your cheeks. "But you wanted it."

"It's fine. I have plenty." He insisted.

"But--"

"Y/n--"

"You can hav--"

"It was an excuse!" He said and you looked at him.

"What?"

Mason ran his hand through his hair. "I found what I was looking for yesterday in one of my suitcases, but you had already invited me over, so, my excuse was going to be the blue hoodie… You have on."

"Oh." You looked at him as he looked down in embarrassment.

"The things I do just to be with you." He whispered. He let out a shy chuckle and you gave him a smile. "Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. I get it. This was your life for five years and I took it from you."

Mason shook his head. "You didn't! The man that hit your car did. It's not your fault." You looked at him, not knowing what to say. Mason took your hand and held it tightly. "We didn't do anything wrong."

You looked down at your hand in his, feeling a warmth spread through you. Your eyes met his, and a smile crept across your face. "Do you want to watch a movie? I know it's late, but you can sleep in the guest room," you suggested.

Mason smiled, his gaze lingering on your face. "I'd like to, but I have training tomorrow morning." He replied.

A blush crept across your cheeks. "Oh, yeah, right."

He took a step closer, his hand still holding yours. "But I would like to take you on a date." He said, his eyes filled with sincerity. "If you want, of course."

Your heart skipped a beat. "I-I would like that." You stammered, your voice barely audible.

Mason squeezed your hand. "Good!" He said, a wide smile spreading across his face. "I'll call you." You nodded. He looked down at Ace and petted him. "You're staying with Y/n, buddy! It's your job to protect her, okay?" The dog gave him his paw and you laughed.

"I'll walk you out." You offered.

You followed him toward the front door. "Just to be clear," He started, stopping himself when you opened the door. "I'm asking you out because I love you and I want you back. It doesn't matter if you don't have your memories back. I want you to fall in love with me again, so, I'm going to do whatever it takes for that to happen." He said. You felt like your legs were going to give up as he leaned in and kissed you softly on the cheek. "Good night, Y/n!"

"Good night, Mason!"

You watched Mason's car disappear down the driveway, a wave of sadness washing over you. You closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a sigh.

A few weeks ago, if someone had suggested you would develop feelings for Mason, you would have laughed in their face. The idea had been absurd, but here you were, feeling sad after seeing him leave.

As you sat down on the sofa, Ace joined you once again. "Do you like Mason, goofball?" The dog looked up at you, his ears perking up at the mention of his favourite human and let out a joyful woof. "Me too! Me too!"

Half an hour later, you were lost in thought when the doorbell rang, startling you out of your trance. Standing up, you approached the door and swung it open, your surprise evident as you saw Mason standing on the doorstep.

"Hey, is everything okay? Did you forget something?" You asked, your voice laced with concern.

Mason's gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, a hint of something unsaid lingering in his expression. "I re- I remembered you didn't have Ace's food." He stuttered, his words stumbling over each other.

"Oh." You replied, disappointment washing over you. "You want to take him back!"

"No, no. It's not that." He said quickly, shaking his head. He went back to his car and returned with a bag of dog food.

You watched him, a knowing smile playing on your lips. "You didn't have to." You said, your voice soft.

He shrugged, his cheeks reddening. "I thought it would be nice."

Your heart swelled with warmth. "Thank you, Mason." You looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You're sure you don't want to stay over?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Mason hesitated, his eyes locking with yours. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling. "I'll stay." He smiled and said, his voice barely audible.

Relief washed over you, a smile spreading across your face, as you closed the door.

#footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football imagine #footballer x y/n #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mm7 #Rewinding Us

128 notes · View notes

cheynovak · 6 months ago

Text

Furry Hero

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character

Summary: A beautiful request from @deanwinchestersgirl8734

That was passed on by @jackles010378 ( Thank you for thinking of me ❤️ )

"Hey I was wondering if you ever thought of writing a dean or Jensen or Sam or Jared story about them meeting someone they like who has a service dog I follow someone online who has a seizure dog and I've never seen anyone write about that"

I hope you like it, it was new for me to write a story like this. So I might made a mistake or two about service dogs but I wanted to shine a light on these everyday heroes as well.

Warnings: None

English is not my first language

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

The musty smell of old books and the faint hum of fluorescent lights created an almost reverent silence in the small-town library. Sam Winchester pushed open the heavy door with a grin, his brother Daan trailing close behind, looking less than enthusiastic.

"Why do you always pick libraries?" Dean grumbled as they walked in. "What’s wrong with a good ol’ diner? Coffee, pie, real conversations?"

"Because libraries have records," Sam shot back, his long stride quickly overtaking Dean. "And the last thing this case needs is for you to flirt your way into trouble again."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm just saying, a little charm goes a long—" He stopped mid-sentence, his attention snapping to a figure seated at a nearby table.

A woman sat with a dog at her feet, flipping through a thick tome with practiced ease. Dean barely registered the woman's features because the dog—a fluffy, caramel-colored Golden Retriever—caught his attention first. Without thinking, Dean dropped into a crouch, extending his hand.

"Who's a good boy?" Dean cooed, the smile on his face rivaling the brightness of the overhead lights.

The dog's ears perked, its intelligent eyes locking onto Dean's hand before the woman—Y/N—cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me." Her tone was polite but firm, tinged with amusement. "He's a service dog. Please don’t pet him while he’s working."

Sam stifled a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dean, seriously?"

Dean froze, his hand midway to the dog's head, looking sheepish. "Right. Sorry. Service dog. Got it." He straightened up, brushing off invisible dirt from his jeans. "Guess I got a little excited. It's just… he's so fluffy."

Y/N chuckled softly, her eyes flicking between the brothers. "It happens more than you'd think. Most people can’t resist Buddy here."

Sam stepped in, his expression a mix of apology and curiosity. "Sorry about my brother. He's got no impulse control. I'm Sam, and this is Dean."

"Y/N," she replied with a small smile. "So, what brings you guys to this dusty corner of the world?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a quick glance, the unspoken language of years of hunting passing between them. Dean took the lead, his charm dialed back to a respectable level. "We’re looking into some… stuff going on in town. About the missing people, you wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you?"

Y/N frowned, her hand pausing on the page she’d been reading. "I haven’t seen anything myself, but…" She glanced down at Buddy, her expression thoughtful. "A couple of nights ago, Buddy started acting weird while we were walking past that old blue house on Sycamore Street. You know, the one where the girl went missing last week?"

Sam nodded, pulling a small notebook from his jacket. "What do you mean by weird? "

"Growling," Y/N confirmed. "And he wouldn’t go near the property. Buddy’s trained to stay calm, so it really freaked me out. I crossed the street, and even then, he kept his eyes locked on that house until we were out of sight."

Dean leaned against the table, his interest piqued. "Did you notice anything else? Lights on? Strange smells? Anything at all?"

Y/N shook her head. "No, but the air felt… off. Like, ice cold." She hesitated. Dean looked at Sam who just nodded but turned back to Y/N.

"If you’re okay with would you mind letting us know if Buddy picks up on anything else? Dogs are a lot more sensitive to things than people are."

Y/N glanced down at Buddy, who let out a soft huff as if in agreement. "Sure. I was planning to walk by there later today anyway. I can let you know if anything seems off."

"Perfect," Dean said, his grin returning. "In the meantime, you got any more tips for not offending a service dog?"

Y/N laughed, a genuine sound that made Dean's grin widen. "Just don’t call him fluffy again."

Sam started to walk back, Dean gave her his 'FBI' card. "Maybe you eh, could learn me a thing or two in a private talk?" Y/N smiled why don't you walk with us tonight?"

Later That day

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, painting the quiet park in shades of amber and gold. Y/N stood near the entrance, Buddy’s leash wrapped loosely around her hand as she scanned the area. Her heart fluttered slightly when she spotted Dean strolling toward her, his leather jacket slung casually over his shoulder and his trademark grin firmly in place.

"Hey," Dean greeted, his voice warm as he stopped a few feet away. His gaze dropped to Buddy, who stood alert at Y/N’s side. "Still working, huh? Guess I’ll keep my hands to myself this time."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Probably for the best. But he’s off-duty once we start walking in the park. That’s his rule, not mine."

Dean crouched, giving Buddy a respectful nod. "You hear that, pal? I’m in your territory now."

Buddy wagged his tail slightly, his usual stern demeanor relaxing just a bit, and Y/N chuckled again. "I think he’s starting to like you. That’s impressive—he doesn’t warm up to most people."

Dean straightened, his grin turning just a touch smug. "Well, I do have a way with animals... And women."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. "So, what’s the plan? You asked me out to make up for the dog thing, and here we are. A romantic walk in the park?"

Dean tilted his head, pretending to think. "That’s part of it. The other part’s getting to know you better." Touched by the sincerity in his voice, Y/N nodded, feeling her nerves ease.

The two of them fell into an easy rhythm as they walked along the park’s winding paths, Buddy trotting happily ahead. They talked about everything and nothing: Y/N’s job, Buddy’s quirks, Dean’s favorite pie recipes, and even a few funny stories.

Dean never opened up so easily, but Y/N felt safe. He even felt guilty not telling her his real job.

Eventually, they reached a secluded clearing by a small lake. Buddy, now fully off-duty, sniffed around the grass nearby, keeping a watchful eye on Y/N as always.

Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets, his expression softening as he looked at her. "You know, I gotta admit... I wasn’t just making up for petting your dog when I asked you out."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "Oh? What was it, then?"

Dean hesitated for half a second, his usual bravado faltering. "I don’t know. There’s something about you. You’re tough, smart, funny..."

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Well, you’re not so bad yourself. Even if you don’t always follow the no-petting rule."

Without knowing Y/N and Dean walked up to the old blue house on the corner. The house loomed in the dark, its broken shutters creaking in the cold wind.

"Buddy’s already on edge," Y/N whispered, gripping the dog’s harness. The Retriever growled low in his throat, his fur standing on end.

"Looks like we’re in the right place," he murmured, his hand instinctively hovering over the pistol tucked in the back of his jeans. He gently pulled Y/N behind him, his expression serious. "Let me call Sam. Might as well take a look."

Y/N tilted her head, her brows furrowing. "Take a look? At this time? What are you looking for exactly?"

Dean didn’t answer right away, pulling out his phone and texting Sam with quick precision. A low growl from Buddy at her side sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine, his ears flat against his head as he stared intently at the house.

Minutes later, headlights illuminated the driveway as the Impala’s familiar sleek silhouette rolled up. Sam hopped out, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure against the twilight.

"Dean, you sure about this?" Sam asked, walking around to the trunk of the Impala.

Dean opened it with a practiced motion, and Y/N’s jaw dropped. Inside was an arsenal of weapons: guns, knives, vials of strange liquids, and boxes of ammo. Dean grabbed his shotgun, quickly loading it with salt rounds. "Oh yeah, Sammy. This place is humming."

"What the hell is this?" Y/N blurted, gesturing to the weapons.

Dean glanced at her, his face unreadable. "Insurance."

"Insurance?" she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Sam stepped closer, his voice calm but firm. "Y/N, this is what we do. What you saw or better what Buddy felt was a ghost, somehow every year children disappear, this is how we deal with things like that. But it’s dangerous. You need to stay back."

Dean nodded in agreement, his green eyes serious as he looked at her. "Let us handle this. Buddy too. Keep him close."

The brothers headed toward the house, their weapons drawn. But as they approached the door, Buddy let out a sharp bark and yanked his leash free from Y/N’s hand.

"Buddy!" Y/N shouted, sprinting after him as the dog bounded up the steps and slipped through the open door.

"Dammit!" Dean cursed, rushing after her. "Y/N, no!"

She didn’t hesitate, running after Buddy into the house. The second she crossed the threshold, the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind her with an echoing bang.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, trying to open the locked door.

Dean spun around, his grip tightening on his shotgun. "Y/N, you were supposed to stay outside!"

Y/N ignored him, her eyes scanning the dark, decaying interior. "I wasn’t about to leave Buddy in here! Where is he?"

A deep growl echoed through the house, sending a chill down everyone’s spines. The air grew colder, and the faint smell of rotting wood and sulfur filled Y/N’s nostrils. Buddy barked from somewhere deeper in the house, his sharp warning cutting through the oppressive silence.

"Stay close," Dean ordered, positioning himself between Y/N and the direction of the sound. "Sam, get her ass out of here!"

"I’m trying!" Sam called back, his voice muffled. "The door’s not budging."

Dean fired the first shot, the salt round scattering the shadow momentarily. "Well, this isn’t gonna be easy," he muttered. "You think?" Sam retorted.

Dean muttered a curse under his breath. He handed Y/N a flashlight from his jacket pocket. "Hold this. If you see anything—anything weird—don’t scream. Just tell me where it is."

Y/N nodded, clutching the flashlight with trembling hands as they moved further into the house. Dean led the way, his shotgun raised, while Buddy’s distant barks drew them closer to the heart of the building.

"Dean," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. "What is that smell?"

Dean’s jaw clenched. "Something bad. Stay close."

As they rounded a corner, they found Buddy standing in front of a doorway, his teeth bared and his growls low and menacing. Dean raised his shotgun as a shadowy figure flickered into view inside the room.

Dean kicked the door open seeing the bodies piled up. Y/N gasped. "Oh my!"

"Bingo Dean whispered under his breath, he started to salt and burn the corpses."Sam! Get her out of here," Dean said sharply, his voice low. "Now."

Y/N grabbed Buddy’s collar, her fear mounting. "What about you?"

"I’ll handle it," Dean said, his gaze locked on the figure as he loaded another shell. "Just go!"

Sam did everything to get Y/N out of the house while Dean started to burn the old remains he found in

Hours later: very very early morning

The warm glow of the diner’s neon sign spilled across the parking lot as Y/N slid into the booth opposite Dean and Sam. Buddy lay obediently at her feet, his golden coat reflecting the light from the hanging lamp above them.

The Winchester brothers had earned more than a few curious looks from the other patrons with their slightly singed jackets and dark circles under their eyes, but they didn't seem to notice—or care.

"Best fries in town," Dean said, sliding a menu across the table to Y/N. "Although, if you’re like me, you’re here for the pie."

Y/N chuckled, scanning the menu. "You were right; I am starving after all that. So… is this what you guys do? Travel around, fight ghosts, and eat questionable diner food?"

"Pretty much," Sam replied with a small smile, leaning back in the booth. "Although Dean’s dietary choices aren’t exactly… standard."

Dean mock-gasped. "Excuse me, my food choices are a finely tuned science. Protein and sugar keep me going during hunts." He paused, his grin softening. "But yeah, hunting—it’s what we do. Saved your life tonight, didn’t it?"

Y/N glanced down at Buddy, her hand instinctively reaching to scratch behind his ears. "It did. And Buddy here… He’s smarter than I gave him credit for." She looked up at them, her expression warm. "Honestly, I can’t thank you guys enough. If it weren’t for you, I don’t even want to think about what might’ve happened."

Dean waved a hand, brushing off the gratitude. "Hey, it’s all in a day’s work. Besides, Buddy deserves most of the credit. Guy’s got instincts."

"He really does," Y/N agreed, her voice tinged with awe. "I thought he was just being stubborn that night, refusing to cross the street, but now I’m realizing… he probably saved me." Her smile faltered slightly as she looked between the two brothers. "I can’t imagine how you do this all the time. Doesn’t it get… exhausting? Scary?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them. Sam was the one who answered. "It’s not easy. But someone has to do it. Most people wouldn’t even believe half the things we’ve seen. So, yeah, it’s scary sometimes, but… it’s worth it."

Dean leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "And hey, it’s not all bad. We’ve got stories for days. Like that time a possessed mannequin tried to stab me. Or when Sam got body-snatched by a teenage girl." He grinned mischievously as Sam groaned in protest.

Y/N laughed, the sound light and genuine, cutting through the heaviness of the earlier hunt. "You guys really are something else."

As the evening wore on, the conversation shifted from ghost stories to lighter topics. Y/N told them about Buddy’s training and how she’d adopted him after he flunked out of guide dog school for being "too easily distracted." Dean snorted at that, muttering, "Sounds like we’ve got something in common, pal," earning a bark of approval from Buddy.

When the check finally arrived, Y/N reached for it, but Dean slid it away with a wink. "Hunter’s treat."

"Thanks," Y/N said softly, her eyes lingering on the brothers. "This has been… really nice. Weird, but nice."

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Y/N dug a small notepad from her bag, scribbling her number and handing it to Dean. "If you guys are ever back in town, give me a call. It was really nice meeting you both."

"Likewise," Sam said, his smile sincere.

Dean, however, seemed unusually quiet. He watched as Y/N clipped Buddy’s leash back on and headed toward her car. His gaze lingered as she opened the door, Buddy hopping inside.

Sam smirked, his arms crossed. "So… I’m starting to guess it wasn’t the dog that had your attention this time."

Dean snapped out of his daze, turning to his brother with an indignant look. "Huh? What’re you talking about?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, come on. You were practically drooling."

Dean scoffed, but the faintest hint of a blush crept up his neck. "I was not. I was just… impressed, that’s all. She’s smart. And brave. And… whatever, shut up."

"Uh-huh," Sam said, his grin widening. "Impressed. Sure."

Dean jumped up, rushing out the door "Y/N! Wait up!". She stopped reversing her car. "What's wrong?" Dean leaned on her now open window. Dean seemingly nervous. "I figured maybe we could start over. No ghosts. No hunts. Just… us."

"I’d like that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dean’s smile widened, but it faded slightly as he glanced down at her lips, his expression turning serious. "Can I kiss you? Or is that off-limits too?"

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re in the clear this time."

Dean didn’t need any more encouragement. He leaned in, his hand brushing lightly against her cheek as their lips met. The kiss was warm and gentle, filled with a tenderness Y/N hadn’t expected but welcomed all the same.

"Call me?" he asked like a shy little schoolboy. Y/N Smirked only if you promise our date walks won't end in horror movies anymore?"

“Deal!” and with that he leaned back for another breathtaking kiss. Much to Buddy's disapproval

WOOF

Taglist -> Click here to add

@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78

@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma

@ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog

@jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed

@hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss

@muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24

@spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown

@panickedbitch @deansimpalababy

@livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @roseblue373

@imsiriuslyreal

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #dean winchester #spn #service dog #supernatural sam #supernatural fandom #supernatural dean #supernatural

86 notes · View notes

lost-between-letters · 1 year ago

Text

Let's Go Home

Pairing: Sam Winchester x wife!teacher!Reader (she/her)

Requested by: @lelapine

Word Count: 1,220

Summary: you work as a teacher at the local high school and often stay later than you mean to. Luckily, you've got a husband who checks his watch regularly

A/N: this isn't spell checked (as almost everything I write) so read at your own risk. Also, sorry if the ending feels off, i couldn't decide where to cut off (and yes, that student is who you think he is, I couldn't resist)

"I just don't know how I'm supposed to see this stuff on my own," Steve raked his hand through his hair and stared down at the essay lying between them, "I'm sorry Mrs. W."

Y/N sighed and put down the red pen she'd used to circle in the more outstanding motives in her copy of Macbeth. They've been through various versions of this exchange now over the past few weeks. "It's okay, Steve. Not everyone's going to major in English lit."

"But I've got to pass this class!" There was a desperation in his voice she hadn't expected. The poor boy looked about two D minuses from outright begging.

This wasn't how Y/N envisioned her night to be going when she heard the knock on her classroom door. An hour after her last class. Steve had been coming to her fairly regularly for his essays once she'd realised that he'd need the extra help, but today, he was downright frantic.

So she refrained from putting her head on the table right next to his and instead forced her tired eyes to stay open and show the trust she had in him and his admittedly mediocre english lit abilities. They were enough to get by, and Y/N knew that not everyone of her students would get the appeal of her subject.

"And you will," Y/N said calmly.

"But I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing!" Steve told the wooden table. His voice was muffled by his hands.

"Who does anyway?" A voice came from the doorway.

Y/N looked up sharply, a surprised smile spreading across her face. "Sam! What are you doing here?"

Sam smiled right back at her and walked until he could look over at what they were working on.

"It's late," he said simply, hands coming to rest on her shoulders, "and I got worried."

Oh. Y/N checked her watch and came to the realisation that, yes, she'd just spent the last three hours here. Instead of home. Where she had been supposed to be about two hours ago.

Steve's head shot off the table, eyes wide. "Shit, I'm so sorry, Mrs Winchester."

"It's okay," she said, looking up at her husband as guilt settled behind her ribs. He must've been waiting for her, "I'm happy to help you."

"I think you both need a break, though," Sam said and squeezed her shoulders.

Steve all but shot out of his seat and gathered his things. His hands were frantic, almost shaking. Y/N watched him, a frown on her lips. She had noticed that before on Steve. "Yes, sir. Sorry for keeping Mrs Winchester so long."

Y/N got up as well, gathering her things as Sam stood there and watched them, brows furrowed in concern. It was clear that that wasn't a thing he'd come prepared for. Finding her slumped over a stack of papers to grade? Wouldn't be the first time. But a teenager falling over his feet apologising for needing extra classes? Not so much.

"It's okay. I kept my teachers back plenty, must've driven them half mad with all my questions." He was putting on his 'Dean-voice', Y/N noticed with a smile and tucked herself into his side. It had been a long day.

"Always been a curious one, that one," she agreed as Sam took her bag from her shoulder, "he keeps asking me questions about you guys' papers even now. Total nerd."

"Guilty as charged."

That did the trick. Steve laughed, and his shoulders sunk just a fraction.

They walked out of the building together, Sam telling Steve a few heavily censored stories about his own school time. Y/N listened in, nodding along whenever Steve looked to her for confirmation and otherwise stayed quietly tucked under Sam's arm.

Once they reached Sam's car, Y/N all but collapsed into the passenger seat. And stayed there.

Sam chuckled when he saw her almost lying there and ran his knuckles over her cheek, soft amusement in his eyes. "Long day?"

"Too long," she groaned and turned into his touch.

"Then let's get you home."

Y/N hummed in agreement.

For a while, there was only the rumble of the car, and Sam's even breathing that broke the silence. It was such a domestic moment, his hand now resting on her knee, the dark scenery passing her window, that it was becoming a fight to keep her eyes open. Y/N surrendered easily and rested her head against the window. "Thanks for picking me up."

"Anytime, baby."

Y/N hummed again and suppressed a yawn.

"That Steve kid," Sam stopped and looked at her sideways, worry in his eyes, "is he alright?"

"hope so," Y/N yawned again and wiggled a bit until she was in a more comfortable position, "he's gonna pass my classes 'nd I'm tryin' to check in on him as much as possible."

"Something we'll have to keep an eye on?"

"Nah, just shitty parents and bein' a teenager, I think," Y/N mumbled, "'m gonna rip his dad a new one if i get to meet him, though."

Sam snorted. "Remind me to be present for that."

Y/N nodded and rested her head back against the window. That day would be a good day.

At some point, Sam turned on the radio and let the familiar tunes wash over both of them. His eyes were steady on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other on her knee, a solid presence. It wasn't a long drive back to the bunker, but it was enough time to create a comfortable little bubble that Sam found himself sinking into. If he hadn't been driving, it would've surely lulled him to sleep at some point.

And that was exactly what it did to Y/N. She was sleeping peacefully by the time they got home, so Sam shut his own door quietly and walked around to the passenger side.

He carefully untangled the strap of her bag from her legs and then leaned over to gather her up in his arms.

Y/N huffed softly once he picked her up but only turned into his chest with a quiet "Sam?"

"I got you, Baby," he murmured and kissed her forehead.

She sighed, apparently satisfied with that reply, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Sam carried her slowly to their room, making sure not to jostle her too much now that she was sleeping. Once there, he carefully placed her down on the bed and crouched to take off her shoes before draping the duvet over her curled up body.

He was just about to go and get ready for bed himself when Y/N sat up, blinking up at him confusedly. "Where're you goin'?"

"Brushing my teeth," he smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on her nose, "get back to sleep."

Y/N pouted and pulled the blanket higher. "Hurry."

Sam did just that and climbed into bed with her not two minutes later. Dental hygiene was overrated anyway.

It didn't take long for Y/N to wrap her entire body around him. Actually, his head hadn't even fully hit the pillow yet. He chuckled quietly.

"Love you," Y/N mumbled into his neck, apparently oblivious to his amusement.

He kissed her hair and wrapped his arms around her waist, getting comfortable as well. "Love you too."

"Night Sam."

"Night, Y/N."

#sam x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction

147 notes · View notes

writingblackpink · 13 days ago

Text

Heartbeat (pt. 3)

read pt. 1 here, read pt. 2 here

genre: angst, some fluff

word count: 2.5k

pairing: rosé x reader

request: the reader is the new drummer/guitarist/bassist of bp’s band on tour and the girls find her very intriguing

A/N: uhhh....hi......don't hate me! I know this is like years late, but I've been thinking about some of the stories I've left unfinished and have been wanting to revisit them. I have some ideas for another couple chapters for this one, so I'm hoping the next update will be sooner than this one was lol. As always, let me know what you think! And bear with me as I update all my links and stuff lol it's been a while....enjoy! (also I didn't really proofread this so if you see anything that shouldn't be there, dw I'll be going back through in a few days to fully review it!)

As it turns out, there wasn’t ample time to “see where it goes” once the tour started. But not for lack of trying on your part. The beginning of the tour was busy, and while you and Rosé kept in contact, over the last few weeks even that was getting less frequent. You hoped it was just the business of the tour, but you were also beginning to think that whatever was between you, was meant to stay back in Seoul.

You sit behind your kit, twirling a stick between your fingers, not really playing—just running the pad of your thumb over the wood. A dull thump echoes as your heel taps the kick pedal in a slow, unsteady rhythm. The kind you play when your thoughts are too loud. It’s a few dates into the tour, the team just getting its footing. You’re waiting for soundcheck to begin as you check your phone for the thousandth time in the last ten minutes.

No new messages.

The last one you sent to Rosé—”You free after soundcheck?”—was read three hours ago. Still no reply. It’s only been a few weeks since Rosé kissed you goodbye with a request to just “see where it goes”, and your heart was full then, optimistic about the future between you. But now, as you watch Rosé from across the stage, you’re not sure it’s going anywhere at all.

She looks stunning, like she always does—hair curled just enough, eyeliner sharp, half ready for tonight’s performance. Her laugh rings out like a hook in a song, addicting. But she hasn’t looked in your direction all day. You try not to take a it personally, knowing there’s more at stake with all these prying eyes.

You tap out a rhythm on the snare with your fingertips, soft and distracted. You then realize it’s the same pattern Rosé had played during that first lesson. You stop yourself mid-beat.

That same rhythm, but played with Rosé’s hands, her laugh warm in your ear. That night in the practice room. The almost-kiss. The kiss outside your door. Rosé’s hand lingering on yours over a mug of coffee.

You close your eyes, trying to remember exactly how it felt.

Jae, one of the sound techs walks over, dragging a small case behind him.

“Hey,” he grins. “I tightened your snare like you asked. Want me to help test the mic levels again?”

You nod, welcoming the distraction. You stand and step around the kit, brushing past him as he crouches to make an adjustment. He says something funny—about how these venues must have been built for giants based on how far your floor tom slipped last night—and you laugh, maybe louder than necessary.

You miss the way Rosé looks toward the sound, smiling. Her smile falters when she realizes who evoked such a pretty sound from you. Her eyes narrow and she turns back towards Lisa, brushing a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear in an effort to look nonchalant. You may have missed the look on her face, but you still felt the shift. Taking a seat back at your set, you tap your sticks together absently. You know something’s off, and has been for some time now. And for the first time since the last time you and Rosé kissed, you wonder if maybe this thing—whatever it is—was always supposed to stay unspoken.

You take another glance down at your phone. Still no reply.

It wasn’t like Rosé to leave you on read. Except…lately, it kind of was.

You’d been in the same room, surrounded by crew and chatter just earlier that day, Rosé sitting with Lisa and the dancers, tucked into her oversized hoodie, laughing easily—but never looking at you.

You tried to play it cool. Tried to focus. You tuned your kit, adjusted mics, joked around with Jae as he helped her tweak the overheads. Jae and the rest of the band were some of the only constants right now—always upbeat, always kind.

Rosé hadn’t so much as waved, but she noticed you.

She caught you out of the corner of your eye, gaze locked on you and Jae as you laughed over some dumb joke about mic tape.

Rosé’s eyes darkened. Just slightly. Barely a blink. But you caught it.

And then, nothing. No smile. No text. No sign.

–

You were curled up in your hotel bed, light from the TV flickering on the wall while some random late-night documentary about sea squids droned on. You were on the brink of sleep when your phone buzzed next to your pillow.

1:23 am - Rosé: Are you awake?

You: Yeah

There was a pause. A typing bubble, then no bubble, then typing again.

Rosé: Sorry I’ve been weird lately.

You: Yeah, you kind of have been…

Rosé: I know. I just…the beginning of the tour has been hectic.

Another pause. She was still typing so you waited her next message.

Rosé: I also don’t like that guy.

You: Who? Jae?

Rosé: Yeah. I don’t know. The way he’s always around you. The way you laugh with him.

You blinked in the glow of the TV, almost letting out a laugh.

You: He’s just a friend. He’s my tech. It’s literally his job to be around me.

Another pause. Typing bubbles appearing and disappearing several times before her next message.

Rosé: I just hate that it makes me feel like this. It’s not fair to you. But I feel like…I already don’t get to have you in public. And now I don’t even really get you in private either.

You: You do have me. You just haven’t wanted me lately.

You bit your lip after sending the last message, nervous to see how she would take the insinuation that she’s left you out to dry. Ghosting you while still being in your presence. You’re just so confused.

Rosé: That’s not true. I’ve just been worried. Of people seeing. Of messing this up. Of feeling too much.

You: And how do you feel now?

A longer pause this time. You waited so long for a response you thought she may have fallen asleep before she could hit send.

Rosé: Jealous.

You gaped at your phone. How could someone who’s been slowly distancing herself from you for weeks be jealous? What she was saying didn’t make any sense to you.

Rosé: And sad. And a little stupid.

You: I feel sad too. Mostly confused. You told me we’d see where this goes but I don’t know where that is anymore.

You hoped that your honesty wouldn’t scare her away, but you could tell she was being genuine so it was the least you could do to be vulnerable too. And here, in different rooms on opposite sides of the hallway in the blue light of your cell phone, you finally felt like you were getting answers.

Rosé: Me either. Can we talk soon? In person?

You stared at the blinking cursor in the message box. You felt a mix of relief that Rosé was finally ready to talk, but as you glanced at the clock on the nightstand, you knew this wasn’t a conversation to be had that night.

You: Maybe, but not tonight.

Rosé: Okay. Goodnight.

You: Night.

You set the phone down and sank back into the pillows in the center of the bed, staring up at the hotel ceiling. You were beginning to think this was turning out to be less something secret and sacred, and more complicated and fragile. And maybe even…temporary.

But your heart still fluttered a little when you saw Rosé’s name finally light up your screen.

–

It had been twelve days.

Not that you were counting.

Twelve days since Rosé confessed to feeling jealous, and scared. Twelve days of seeing Rosé across dressing rooms and hallways. Twelve days of barely-there nods, passing glances, a soft “hey” exchanged like strangers being polite. Twelve days of pretending everything was fine in front of everything else, even though it absolutely wasn’t.

You missed her, even though she was still within reach. You missed her more than you were willing to admit. You thought about reaching out, but something about Rosé’s silence after that night had made you lock up. If Rosé wanted to talk, really talk, she’d find you. Except she hadn’t. Until tonight.

You were heading down a hallway behind the stage after a show in Bangkok, towel slung over your shoulders, in-ears still hanging loosely around your neck. The adrenaline from the show was still fading when you turned a corner and nearly collided with Rosé.

You froze. So did she. You stood just a foot apart, stunned into the kind of stillness that had its own kind of sound. You stepped aside instinctively, but she was already moving—just slightly, like she was going to pass you without a word, like you were nothing more than coworkers. Something in you snapped.

You reached out and grabbed Rosé’s wrist.

“Wait.”

Rosé stilled, eyes flicking down to where your skin touched. Your grip wasn’t tight, just enough to stop her from slipping away again. The hallway was dim and quiet, buzzing only faintly with the muffled chaos of post-show breakdown. You glanced around, then pulled Rosé gently behind a stack of road cases and cables out of sight. You were close now, almost too close, the tension sitting between you thick like smoke.

“I can’t let you walk past me again,” you said, voice low. “Not tonight.”

Rosé leaned back slightly against the wall, arms crossed like armor. But her eyes were soft, blinking fast like she didn’t trust herself to look too long.

“I didn’t know what to say,” she said.

“You could’ve said anything.”

Rosé’s mouth tightened, then relaxed. “I thought if I stayed quiet, if I didn’t let myself want it anymore, maybe it’d go away.”

Curious, you asked, “Did it?”

“No,” she whispered.

The silence stretched as you searched her face, her own eyes darting around yours.

“I miss you,” Rosé said finally, like she was admitting something shameful. And for her, she did feel some responsibility for putting the distance between you in the first place.

You felt your throat tighten. “Yeah. Me too.”

You let the words hang there. Then stepped in just a little closer.

“I didn’t want to be just a secret,” you said. “But I’d rather be that than nothing.”

Rosé looked up, surprised.

“I don’t want you to be a secret,” she said. “But I don’t know how to do this and not be scared. I thought if I put distance between us, eventually this would fade, but I feel it even stronger now.”

“I’m scared too, but aren’t we worth a shot?” You said. And you both smiled, sad and honest. For a moment, the noise of the tour, the world, all of it—faded. You reached out and gently touched Rosé’s hand where she dropped it at her side. She didn’t pull away. In this tiny, shadowed, corner of the world, you let yourself really feel it again. And this time, neither of you ran.

–

The tour moved like a train with no brakes—city after city, show after show. The chaos of performing, traveling, and rehearsing could have swallowed you whole, but you and Rosé found each other in the quiet moments.

A shared look at the dressing room emptied.

Fingers brushing as you passed each other in hallways.

Rosé handing you a water bottle mid-soundcheck with a wink only you could see.

Red-eye flights with Rosé curled next to you, sharing one AirPod between you while a soft playlist crackled through. Your knees touching. Hands barely resting together under a shared blanket. It wasn't much, but for now, it was enought.

You kept things quiet, intentionally so. When the others were around, Rosé would keep a bit more distance—enough that no one would question anything. But there was a shift, a magnetic pull.

People would only notice if they looked closely. And no one was really looking. Not yet.

–

Tokyo. One of the last stops in Asia before heading to Europe.

The group had decided to split for the night after a long post-show dinner. Jennie, Lisa, and Jisoo went out for drinks. Rosé had a “headache” and you said you were going back to edit some stems. Neither was true, but you were practically vibrating at the thought of alone time with Rosé again after all this time.

You found yourself in Rosé’s hotel room for the first time on this tour. You’d been watching something dumb on TV, but barely five minutes in, you hadn’t looked at the screen once. You were on the couch in her expansive suite, legs tangled, whispering jokes, soft laughter exchanged like secrets.

Rosé leaned forward slowly, brushing her knuckles along your jaw before guiding you into a kiss that melted like honey. Slow, familiar. You sighed into it, nearly a month of back and forth culminating in this moment, finally. Your hand curled gently around the back of her neck as Rosé deepened the kiss, just enough to make you forget what city you were even in.

Then—click.

The door swung open.

“Oh my god.”

You sprang apart like magnets being yanked the wrong direction. Lisa stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide—not scandalized, but definitely amused.

“I KNEW something was up!” she said, eye flitting between you with a grin that was way too smug.

Rosé buried her face in her hands. “Lisa…”

“Okay, okay!” Lisa held her hands up and backed out slowly, a teasing smirk on her face. “I didn’t see anything. Just a…very close couch huddle. Definitely normal. Carry on, lovers.”

She was gone almost as fast as she entered, pulling the door shut with her.

The room was silent for a beat before you and Rosé shared a laugh that was part nerves, part embarrassment, part pure disbelief.

“She’s never gonna let us live that down,” you said through a laugh.

The laughter died down as Rosé settled back into your side, sighing. “Probably not.”

She rested her head on your shoulder, her fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles on your wrist. Rosé’s phone lit up on the coffee table, and you noticed her tense before she even looked at the screen. It was a message from her manager.

“Where were you tonight after dinner?”

She didn’t answer it, she didn’t even move to pick up her phone. She just blinked at the screen until it dimmed again. You didn’t ask about it, but her grip on you tightened slightly. After a long silence, she spoke up.

“I can’t get caught,” Rosé whispered, barely audible. “If someone saw us—if the company thinks I’m distracted…it won’t just be me.”

You turned to her. “You mean–?”

Rosé nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on the TV. “They’d shut it down. All of it. Not just us.”

There it was, the thing they hadn’t said. If this ever got out—not only the fact she was seeing someone, but also that it was another woman—it could mean the end of her career, or worse, the end of the group, years of hard work undone in a heartbeat.

They didn’t talk about it anymore that night, but when you left you checked the hallway three times, slipping out with your hood up. Like a secret.

And Rosé, alone in the dime hotel room, finally typed a reply: “Wasn’t feeling well. Went straight to bed.”

She stared at the blinking cursor after sending the message, powered off her phone, and got into bed.

#blackpink #gg scenarios #blackpink writing #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #rosé blackpink #blackpink rosé #park chaeyoung #rosé #rosé x female reader #gg imagines #kpop fanfic #forbidden romance #hheehehehe I'm so sorry LOL

18 notes · View notes

runningincircl3s · 3 months ago

Text

Sinematic

Vinny Mauro x Reader

Chapter 1

chapter warnings: negative thoughts?

IM SO EXCITED TO FINALLY START SHARING THIS STORY!!! i've been working on it for months, and personally i think it's literally one of the best things i've ever written so i hope you like reading it as much as i've loved writing it!! :)

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

It had been two months since your one night stand with Vinny. In that time, you got booked for a small tour with a local band, happy to be picking up your camera again, and you considered quitting your job and to get back into photography full time.

This weekend, you were visiting Shae with Angela for your monthly girls weekend together. Usually, you’d go to a spa hotel or somewhere nice, but this month you had all been busy and none of you had the chance to book anything, so to Shae’s house it was!

The evening was spent the way it always was- gossiping, watching movies, and giggling together. But as another movie ended, you excused yourself to use the bathroom, completely unaware of how one small detail was about to change everything.

You reached out for the toilet paper, and suddenly froze.

You caught a glimpse of a pack of tampons.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the box.

All of a sudden you couldn’t remember when your last period was.

You furrowed your brows, grabbing your phone and opening your period tracker to check the dates.

You had missed your last period, which you were supposed to have when you went on the small tour, you must have been so busy that you didn’t think twice about it, and it was a couple days late this month.

You broke out in a cold sweat. Your heart pounded as you washed your hands and left the bathroom, suddenly feeling lightheaded. You needed water.

Shae’s voice pulled you back into reality, making you jump as she walked into the kitchen behind you.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, “You were in there for a while… It’s not food poisoning is it? Justin had that last week and-”

“No,” you forced out a chuckle, gripping the glass of water tighter than necessary. “…Can I ask you something kinda personal?”

Shae’s expression softened.

“Of course.”

“When you found out you were pregnant… How did you know?”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“I kept taking tests, I guess.” A beat passed. “Why are you asking?”

Your grip tightened around the glass.

“Well... I missed my last period.”

Shae’s eyes widened.

“Shut up. But you haven’t…?”

“No, this can’t be fucking happening,” you groaned, panic bubbling in your chest. “I didn’t notice last month because I was touring. Everything was so chaotic, and-”

“The store’s probably closed now but we can always go tomorrow and pick up a couple tests?”

You nod your head, hands shaking as you set your glass on the counter.

“Fuck…” You ran your fingers through your hair, “Do I tell Vin?”

“It’s Vin’s?!” She practically shouted, “Excuse me?! Did I miss a chapter?”

“We… Well, we slept together a couple months ago, it was a mistake, a one off-”

“You saw Vinny again and didn’t think to say anything? I can’t believe this.”

“That’s not the point-”

“What’s happening?” Angela’s voice cut in as she entered the room, her tone laced with amusement.

“Y/n’s pregnant!” Shae laughed, “And get this… It’s Vin’s.”

But what you didn’t know was that Justin just happened to be walking past at that exact moment, hearing every word that had just come from Shae’s mouth.

His steps faltered. His stomach dropped.

Wait.

He was not supposed to hear that.

His mind raced. Should he do something? Say something? Did he mishear? No, he definitely heard correctly!

This wasn’t his business, but Vin was his friend. And if it were him in his place, he’d want to know.

He slowly walked away, pulling his phone out of his pocket, contemplating whether he should get himself involved or not. Ultimately deciding it was a bad idea, sliding his phone back into his pocket and walking back up the stairs to his room.

“I’m not!” You shook your head, “Look, I changed my birth control not so long ago, so it’s probably just messed up my cycle!”

“That could be why it’s late,” Angela agreed, “It messes up your hormones and shit, it takes a while for it to go back to normal.”

She pulled her phone out, googled your problem and set it on the counter to show everyone.

How changing birth control can affect your periods:

Missed periods: It's normal to skip a period for a month when switching birth control pills.

“See, I’m not pregnant.” You told Shae, although you were also trying to convince yourself too.

“I wouldn’t rule it out, honey,” she said, “Still take a test just to be safe.”

You nodded your head, telling them you’d pick up a test on your way home tomorrow.

Justin was now sitting on the edge of his bed, still pondering what to do about this situation, whether he should give Vin a heads up or wait and let you tell him. But if this was him that it was happening to, he would want to know as soon as possible.

So he got his phone back out, found Vin’s contact and started typing.

Hey man, I don’t know if this is still a sore topic but y/n’s here with Shae tonight and I’ve just overheard something they’ve been saying. I could be wrong but… Let’s just say you might need to start shopping for baby drumsticks soon!

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding after he pressed send. He felt a little bit guilty, but he was just looking out for his friend.

It’s what anyone else would’ve done, right?

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“No! Fuck! They got me again!” Vinny groaned as he saw his screen glow red again.

He had gone back to streaming games on his twitch most nights, meaning he’d be staying up into the early hours of the mornings, playing until his eyes turned red, until he could barely keep them open.

He lived a pretty simple life when he wasn’t on tour. Even more so now that his roommate had left. He’d wake up, take a shower, get lunch, play drums for a bit, play games for a bit, start streaming, order takeout for dinner, play more games, stop streaming, play more and then eventually when it was physically impossible to stay awake for any longer, go to sleep. He told himself he liked the simplicity of it, but the truth was, he needed the distractions. Because when things got too quiet, too slow, his mind always wandered back to you.

He missed you more than anything, but after what he had gone through, he had to be more cautious. He couldn’t give you his heart once more to only have it broken all over again. As much as he wanted to trust you, he didn’t know if he could. He didn’t even know if he could trust himself these days. This is why he left that morning, he couldn’t risk anything.

“Vin, isn't it 4am? why are you still streaming lol,” He read a comment from the chat, “Maybe it’s because I’m not tired!”

He said as he yawned.

“Okay I lied, I should really get off stream now,” he yawned again, “I love you guys, I should be here at the same time again tomorrow…” He looked at the time. 4:08am. “Thanks for being here!” He smiled before ending the stream, yawning once more.

As he picked up his phone and his empty cup, heading up the stairs to his room, he saw he had a text from a few hours ago that he hadn’t read.

From Justin?

He tapped the message, his eyes skimming the words.

Then his entire body tensed.

“No fucking way,” he muttered under his breath, sitting heavily on the edge of his bed. He read the text again.

And again.

This had to be a mistake.

Justin must’ve misheard. Yeah, that was it.

Because if this were true, you would have told him yourself. He wouldn't have heard it from Justin. Not like this.

It must’ve been a prank. Vin let out a sigh of relief, followed by a chuckle. Justin was clearly just trying to scare him, he was probably with his friends.

But you and Vin swore not to tell anyone about that night you spent together, so what was really going on?

His eye caught the joint that was sitting on his dresser, it had been rolled the previous afternoon. He called it his emergency sleep aid, but he knew if he was to smoke now, he’d spiral and probably end up having a panic attack.

His mind continued to whirl with memories of that night, of the way you looked beneath him, of how easy it had been to fall back into old habits. He had spent the last two months convincing himself that night was a mistake, that it didn’t mean anything. But now?

Now, it's all changed.

His fingers hovered over your contact. Should he call you? Text you?

Instead, he set his phone down and ran a hand over his face. He needed to sleep.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The drive home from Shae’s the next day felt like a blur. You felt like you were in a bad dream you just couldn’t wake up from. The streetlights passed in streaks, and the radio hummed in the background, but you weren’t really there, you were surprised you even made it to the drugstore.

The fluorescent lights inside were too bright, too clinical. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, walking straight past the aisles of makeup and skincare, your heart pounding harder with every step as you approached the health aisle, and there they were.

The shelves were overwhelming. How were there this many options? Which one did you need? Early detection, digital, triple check, clear results in words- Why did it even matter? Your fingers hovered over the boxes, hesitation creeping up your spine.

It was fine. This was fine. People do this every day.

Just pick one.

You grabbed the closest box to you and turned on your heel, heading for the self-checkout before you could second-guess yourself. The employee working behind the counter barely glanced at you as you wandered past, but you still felt exposed, like everyone in the store knew.

You scanned the box before stuffing it into your bag and paying with shaky hands. As you stepped outside, the cold air hit your lungs like a shock. You could finally breathe.

You exhaled sharply, gripping the bag like it held something dangerous.

You could take it as soon as you got home. Get it over with.

But as you tossed it onto the passenger seat and started the car, the panic settled deeper in your chest.

What if it was positive? Then what?

Your grip tightened on the wheel. You didn’t want to know. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

You drove the rest of the way home in silence, with one thought on your mind. One person.

Vinny.

What would he think? What if he didn’t want it and you did? What if he did want it and you didn’t?

Once you were home, you unlocked your door and rushed to your room, sitting yourself down on the edge of your bed and breaking down in tears.

As if she sensed you were upset, your phone lit up, Angela was calling.

“Hi.” You sniffled as you answered.

“Hey, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

“I did, yeah…”

“Good,” she smiled, even though you couldn’t see, “Did you pick up a-”

“I did, it’s still in my car. I’m too scared to do it, Ang. I don’t know if I can.”

“Hey, the worst that can happen is that it’ll be positive, right? And then whatever you choose to do with it is your choice, girl. But don’t forget it could also be negative.”

“I know…” You said, blinking tears out of your eyes, “Nobody’s told Vin, right?”

“I haven’t, there’s no way Shae would.”

“Okay, I don’t want him to know unless… Well, I just don’t know how I’d even tell him if it was positive.”

“Hey, you don’t even know if it is! Stop worrying so much!”

“I know.” You frown, “Look, I’m going to have a shower and maybe take a nap, then I’ll think about taking it.”

“Call me when you do, okay? I don’t want you having to do that shit alone. If I didn’t have to leave for work tonight I’d be right there with you.”

“I will, thanks Ang.”

“No worries. Just keep me updated, okay?”

“Yeah I will. Thank you.“

You always wondered what you did to deserve the best friends in the world.

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

@collapsedglasshouses @miss570 @dominuslunae @sunshine-lvrr @death-ofpeace-ofmind @blade-dressed-in-red @amelia-acero @kait16xo @oobleoob this is a new taglist so if i missed you or you want to be added please let me know!!

#vinny mauro x reader #vinny mauro fanfic #vinny mauro #motionless in white fanfic #sinematic <3

47 notes · View notes

tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 5 months ago

Text

I just came across the article today, and the whole thing is very interesting. I highly recommend reading it all, to anyone who's interested in the history of British comedy double acts. It's basic stories that I did already know - Cook and Moore, Lee and Herring, Newman and Baddiel, French and Saunders - but it juxtaposes them in a way that I quite enjoyed reading, and adds a number of details that I did not already know. I am interesting in double act dynamics, so this was a really cool article.

However, I am, of course, going to cut and paste on particular segment:

In 2006, Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver, who were at the time writing their third Edinburgh show together, travelled to London to audition for a role on Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show. Only Oliver, however, was called to a second audition. “When they offered him the job, unfathomably, John chose to go and work on the world’s leading satirical TV show rather than speak to 30 people in a tiny room in Edinburgh,” Zaltzman tells me over a Diet Pepsi in a London pub. After the swift departure of Oliver, who now presents HBO’s primetime political talkshow Last Week Tonight, Zaltzman was left to write and, two weeks later, perform the Edinburgh show alone. “It was difficult because I had nothing to replace this wonderful working relationship and friendship,” Zaltzman says. The year after Oliver left for America, Zaltzman “bumbled along” performing political standup. Then they were offered the opportunity to record a weekly topical podcast, the Bugle. Oliver agreed to rejoin the double act (albeit via a telephone line) as co-host. “It worked well straight away,” says Zaltzman. “There hadn’t been any great falling out, so in that sense it was easy for us to work together again.” The podcast, a satirical take on the week’s news, ran from 2007 to 2014 without a break. It then had a hiatus while Oliver focused on launching his new TV show; he soon found that the show was taking up too much of his time, and the Bugle came to an end in 2015. Then in 2016, Zaltzman relaunched it without Oliver, instead partnering with a roster of comedians including Nish Kumar and Hari Kondabolu. “To lose [Oliver] after having worked so closely for years left a void,” says Zaltzman. “But my frustration was not with his success. I like to think I haven’t become a bitter, twisted, resentment-fuelled showbiz cliche. But maybe there is a residual awkwardness about the different paths we’ve taken.”

Sorry, what the fuck? Did anyone else know about this? That apparently Andy Zaltzman also auditioned for The Daily Show, at the same time as John? I know a hell of a lot about the Zaltzman and Oliver history, and I never knew that. Which means Zaltzman's kept it quiet, in the all the times he's told stories in interviews about the paths their double acts took in those years.

I'd heard all that other stuff before. There's a Bugle quote (from 2018, the same year this article came out, so I guess Andy was into that phrasing at the time), in which Andy refers to: "June 2006, when [John Oliver] told me he wanted to do the Daily Show job instead of coming with me to Edinburgh to talk to 25 people a day in a darkened room." And of course I've heard Andy talk about how he felt like he was "bumbling" in the year between John going to America (June 2006) and The Bugle starting (Oct 2007), as he tried to get by without the double act. I'm convinced that the difficulty he had during that year is why he waited so long to pull the plug on The Bugle in 2015, when John had clearly checked out, and yet Andy kept doing filler episodes in which he'd tell us they're going to get this going with John again soon, like a mother telling the children that their dad has just gone out for cigarettes and will be back. Of all the double act stories in that article, Zaltzman and Oliver has to be one where one member tried the hardest to claw on after the other was out, not wanting to let go of it. And I include Lee and Herring, when I say Zaltzman and Oliver did that more than any others.

Anyway, the information that Andy Zaltzman had also auditioned for The Daily Show is a massive fact for this article to just casually drop. That recontextualizes a lot of stuff from around that time, and makes a lot of sense. @lastweeksshirttonight, @bimwi - as the other people here who know a lot about that history, am I the only one who didn't know that? Was anyone else aware of this?

24 notes · View notes

be-missed · 2 years ago

Text

Not Strong Enough (Chap 5)

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.

Warning: curse words.

A/N: 5th chapter, thank you for waiting. I'll be using a different POV her, please tell me if this is better or no. Also, I think if I start using this POV, y'all need to be guessing what's inside of Jenna's (in the story) mind.

Masterlist

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 6

______________________________________________________________

Chap 5

"Hey, thanks for today, I really enjoyed the concert. See you around!"

You kept on reading the last text message that Jenna sent you after the concert. In the past few days, you are trying to keep your distance from the girl that you have been liking for some quite time now. After the concert, listening to the songs, it feels like you are having a revelation; you can't and you won't be the love of her life you thought.

So what you did was to be more productive than you are to stop yourself from thinking of the other girl and checking your phone. In the hospital when Jenna visits, you try to lessen your interaction and dismisses her telling that you are busy and needed in the surgery room. But one time, Jenna caught you seating in the chairs and watching a video on your phone. You didn't know that she'll go visit and unfortunately she asked around and asked what time is your break.

You were watching Melissa Barrera's 'Get To Bed With Me' YouTube video for Harper's Bazaar. "So, you are on a break, right?" You heard from your side and that got you surprised, it is Jenna's voice and you answered "Hey, I didn't know you were coming." and she chuckles and said "I came to surprise you, you were always on the go when I visit" she said and sat beside you.

You look at her whole figure intently, nothing has change, still the same chipped nail polish from the concert, same chuck taylors that she loves to wear, her headphone hanging around her neck, that necklace she wears sometimes when she is in the mood and a few rings.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry... there's a lot that's been going around here" you said with a sad smile and Jenna answered "No worries, I'm just glad I get to talk to you." and smiled at you.

Why does she need to smile like you are the softest thing that she have ever seen. "So, I just noticed, I mean I don't want to assume, because like, you know, it's not good, but I would like t you know, ask maybe, or like no, I've been meaning to tell you-" Jenna started to rumble but you held her hand and squeezed it and said "Hey you're rambling, it's ok breathe."

"Okay, I noticed that you are kinda ignoring me. You haven't replied to my message last last week, you have been ignoring me when I go here, I mean yes, we talk in facetime but you end it so quickly. I just... I miss you." Those words came out of Jenna's mouth.

She misses you. SHE MISSES YOU.

"Oh..." You started "I'm sorry if you feel like that, but I have been really really busy." You ended. But you feel like Jenna knows that you are lying to her.

"Sure, I mean, I'm sorry to bother you." Jenna said and went up to stand but you stopped her "Hey, please don't think that you're bothering me, that can never happen" and you smiled at her.

"Okay..." Jenna said and accepted your answer "So, do you have any plans for Halloween?" she asked and you answered "Yes, actually My friends and I are having a Halloween Party, just the four of us since we can't handle big events" and ended with a laugh.

"That sounds really nice, what are you dressing up?" Jenna asked you with such curiosity and you answered "Well, I'll be dressing up as Mavis from Hotel Transylvania."

Jenna took a mental note on that. The both of you heard a blaring sound and a voice said "Code Blue" and that alerted you.

"Hey, I'll be calling you, I am needed, duty calls." You said and kissed Jenna's cheeks and hugs her and you bolted out.

---

"Y/N please stop walking around, please" Ava stated while you pace around the break room with you friends watching you like you were in a loop. Beatrice enters the room, kissed her wife and looked at you weirdly.

"What is happening here?" Bea asked and her wife answered, "Well your friend here kissed her little princess, IN THE CHEEK." Ava exaggerated the last words that made Bea chuckle and said "Wow, a kiss on the cheek made you like that, how about when you get to kiss her." and the wives made fun of you that made you stop from pacing.

"GUYS! This isn't even funny!" You said that made the both of them laugh even more, "Chill down Y/N, girl friends kiss each other in the cheek." Beatrice emphasize the space between girl and friends "And please calm your thoughts down, try to stay in the present and no overthink yeah." Beatrice added.

"Okay, sure sure, I will try" you sat beside them and drink your water.

"So are you ready for our Halloween Party?" Ava asked and you just nodded "Okay, I can't wait to see you in your costume."

---

"TRICK OR TREAT" Those are the three words that the four of them hearing while they are having a dinner and playing monopoly.

"Damn, it's so late and there are kids outside." Ava stated as you went up and opened the door to give them candies and give them compliments for the effort that they did for their costume.

As you take your seat again "You can't blame them. I'd be walking the whole neighborhood just to get lots of candies" and rolled the dice, you moved your character that landed on boardwalk. You hollered and celebrated as you got the most expensive property in the game.

"That's not fair Y/N, you need to leave some property for us." Camila exclaimed while pouting like a little kid, "Oh stop it, you almost owned all of the land on the other side."

Beatrice gave you a house and the card for the boardwalk. Another knock on the door and a "Trick or Treat" can be heard, with a happy feeling, knowing that you'll be crashing Ava and Camila in the game, you happily get the bucket of candy and opened the door, and it stunned you.

Jenna was the one that is in front of the door, with her little cousins.

As you scanned her face, you could also see a surprised look, she probably doesn't assume that you will be the one opening the door and will be giving them the treats.

"Hey..." you said with the brightest smile, feeling like a fucking winner even if the game hasn't ended, but looking at Jenna with her orange long sleeve under a yellow jersey T-shirt, cargo shirt, and on her adidas rubber shoes. You intake in everything that is on her and she replied back with a smirk on her face "Hey back to you beautiful."

"Can I get my candies now?" You hear a littlw voice and you looked down and answered "Sure sweetie, here get anything you want" and almost gave all of the candies to Jenna's cousin.

"Whoa there, that's a lot for you miss." Jenna exclaimed seeing that you almost empty the candy bucket that you have.

"Didn't know you live around our block?" Jenna said and you answered "Oh no, this is not mine, this is actually where Ava and Beatrice lives" and scratched your head, "You wanna join our party?" you asked Jenna and she answered "Oh I would like to, but as you can see I'm tasked to bring the kids to trick or treat"

That made you sad because you won't be hanging with Jenna.

"But... I can come after we round the whole block if that's alright?" She asked and that made you smile and you answered "Sure, that's great" and you watched them walking away. The both of you shared a small wave.

As you went back to the table, you said to the group " I hope it's okay that I invited someone later?" and that made them look at you "It's just Jenna, so I hope you don't mind?"

"Wow, so now you got the guts to invite her huh? But yeah, it's okay for me, how about you my love?" Bea said and Ava nodded because her mouth is currently full with m&m.

"It's about damn time I get to meet her. I'll show her how I fucking nailed Wednesday's dance" Camila exclaimed and both you and Beatrice said "Please no."

---

An hour passed and the four of you are just watching a horror film when the doorbell rang. When you opened the door, you saw Jenna standing with a wine on her hand.

"Hey you didn't need to bring something" you said and Jenna answered "I think it's good to impress your friends" and the both of you entered the living room that made the other three stare at you.

Beatrice paused the movie and Camila said "Wow, you got your whole costume planned huh?" and that made you look at her questionly.

You then scanned Jenna's costume, orange long sleeves under a yellow jersey T-Shirt, a cargo short, and a rubber shoes. That's where it clicked, SHE WAS DRESS AS JOHNNY, Mavis' husband.

"Surprise" Jenna said in a little voice and looked at you worriedly.

You bit your lips and said "Well good to see you husband." You kissed her cheeks again and pull her to the sofa to the spot where you were seated earlier and the movie continued.

"I hope it's okay" Jenna whispered and that made you look at her, you were so close to her face, the lights of the TV illuminated her face, and that just took your breath away.

"What do you mean?" You asked, a bit of perplexed on what she's asking. "I dressed up as Johnny" she said.

You thought, why would she feel sorry for dressing up as your husband, as Mavis' husband? Because what she just did for her costume, being in a couple costume with you, sent you heart beating impossibly fast that you fear it will just stop and Jenna will be seeing you body lying on the floor while your three friends are trying to perform a cpr on you.

"No worries, I kinda like how you played it off, it looks good on you." You said and if the lights were on, you will notice how the blush on Jenna's face creeps in. "You are beautiful as well Y/N" Jenna said.

"Can we please now watch" Camila said to the both of you because she is just literally seating close to the both of you, which made the both of you said your apologise quietly and sat comfortably beside each other.

The night went on, and the five of you finished two movies. Beatrice and Ava are now cleaning the living room while you clean the dining room which leaves Camila and Jenna in the living room.

Camila broke the silence and said "I really liked you on Wednesday." and that made Jenna smile and said a thank you, Camila then continued "You know, if I may, I can show you how I perfected the dance you did in the ball" Camila stands up in the middle of the living room and within a second you tackled Camila into the floor, not wanting to make Jenna feel uncomfortable since you have watched a lot of her interviews about the Wednesday dance and also you are concerned about your friend who can't really dance to save her life.

"WHAT THE FUCK Y/N" Camila exclaimed and pushed you off of her "I'm sorry, I just missed you" you answered while you are still lying on the floor.

Jenna went to you and helped you up "Are you okay?" she asked and you just nodded.

"That was not fair Y/N, I was about to show Jenna my dancing skills" Camila said with a pout on her lips, and that just made you giggle.

Jenna buts in and said "Maybe you can show me next time when we meet each other again."

But that just made your head shakes for a no, earning a few "no" that can be heard from Bea and Ava.

Finishing up and gathering your things, you said your goodbye to Ava, Bea, and Camila. Jenna by your side walking towards the street.

"Thanks for inviting me tonight" Jenna said kicking stones that got in her way.

You looked at her like a little kid, thinking it was fun to see her like this, enjoying herself and being young & free. "No problem, I love having you around and the girls have been wanting to meet you since they only got to greet you in the hospital" you said.

"Really? I'm glad to hear that. I also enjoyed spending time with them" She said.

Walking a few more streets and you were nearing Jenna's house. No small talks were made, only the noise of the neighborhood can be heard and your small hums.

Jenna the breaks the silence "I just noticed that you always invite me to do something while I just go and say yes."

"Well, I like hanging out with you" you answered, because it is true. You know for yourself that even if you don't have any feelings for Jenna, you would enjoy her company.

"How about if you come to our Family dinner next time, sounds good?" Jenna suggested and it surprised you. How come you got invited to a Family Dinner and that made you super shy because you will gonna be surrounded with Jenna's family and you were scared that they will not like you. But then you reminded yourself to calm down and live on the now.

"Uhmm sure, if that's okay with your family, I don't want to intrude" you answered and Jenna smiled and said "Oh trust me they would love you there, my mom was also planning in inviting you, she said you are like a daughter to her"

Wow, Natalie has plans on inviting you, that was the first time you heard that. You know that you and Natalie have this bond and you feel so treasured and loved, thinking that Natalie thought of you more like her daughter.

Stepping in front of the Ortega's front door, you and Jenna faced each other earning a sweet smile on both of your faces.

"Thank you for tonight" Jenna said.

That moment, this moment, you were so sure that you wanted to kiss Jenna, you are thinking, you have stopped yourself many times to not kiss her so maybe this is a good chance to let go and just kiss her. Live on the now, you think. Your heart beating loud and you try to block the negative thoughts.

So one of your hand went into Jenna's side, you were slowly leaning in, waiting for a movement from the other girl to pull away and you felt none, so you persisted and you felt that Jenna was also leaning in, placing her hands into your shoulder.

A flashing of lights and a honk is heard that broke you apart. The windows rolled down and you saw Jenna's dad waving, getting down the car and going towards the both of you.

"Hey girls, hope I'm not interrupting something?" said and hugged Jenna and looked at you.

You introduced yourself "Good evening Sir, I'M Y/N, Jenna's friend and Natalie's co-worker.' and stretched your hand to shake his hand which he did shake and exclaimed "So you are who's Jenna is talking about, huh?"

Jenna nudged her father "Dad, please stop" which made her father laugh and said "Well, if you are hungry you can go inside and dig in." and leave the both of you outside again.

You broke the silence and said "Well, I'm gonna go home" you take Jenna's hand and kissed the back of it, "Good night my husband" You said with a teasing smile referring to Jenna's costume and you started to walk down their front yard.

Jenna then said "Good night to you my wife, call me when you're home" and blow you a kiss which you catch and kept it in your pocket that made Jenna laugh.

And that maybe was the greatest Halloween that you could have ever have in you whole life.

______________________________________________________________

Chap 6

A/N: an update, hope this was good. Thanks for reading!

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #fanfic #fiction #jenna ortega imagine

221 notes · View notes