#SHES STUNNING even with those contact lenses

[ghoultrifle]

Dew's Best Kept Secret

Have some nasty DewRora glasses porn, you freaks /aff.

Summary: Dew hates his glasses, Aurora (and Aether) think they're unbearably hot - cue them fucking nasty

These are what I'm imagining Dew wears (when he has to)

Oh and everyone's trans

@jimothybarnes optician tag, i feel like there's another optician-adjacent writer here but i cannot remember who, sorry! edit: @dewedup optician tag hehe thanks jesus for reminding me <3

READ BELOW THE CUT OR ON AO3

He sits on the edge of the bed, a full length mirror positioned just too far away for him to see himself. Blurry fingers gliding over his ruddy cock, blissed expression masked by the distance.

Dewdrop hates his glasses, they make him lose his bad boy edge, he’d fit right in as a librarian when he wears them, he reckons. Nothing more than the nerdy girl in a romcom that becomes absolute dynamite when she goes to prom, without the frames. Aether is the only ghoul blessed with the privilege of even knowing Dewdrop needs glasses, not least being the only ghoul to see him wear them.

“Head up, darling, at the mirror, need you to see exactly what I’m doing to that pretty body of yours,” the quintessence ghoul had insisted, holding the smaller ghoul in front of him, fingers glossy as he teased Dew’s clit.

“Uhh Aeth, I appreciate the sentiment but- ah, I can’t see shit, ‘m not wearing my contacts.”

“Oh, uh, you got glasses anywhere, firefly?” he replied, realising why the fire ghoul was so clumsy; he couldn’t fucking see anything. This was a vulnerable moment for Dewdrop and Aether knew it. Keen on keeping the ghoul atop him a horny crying mess instead of a sad one, he brushed over the sudden confession in favour of letting Dew see himself all hard and leaking.

“Bedside drawer,” he huffed.

Aether blindly reached out to grab the glasses, smudging the lenses in the process. Still curiously running his fingers between Dew’s folds he opened the frames with his teeth before placing them on the fire ghoul’s face.

“Holy fuck, Dewdrop, you’re stunning.”

The round lenses complimented his sharp jawline, softening his features. But Dew would never see it that way, convinced Aether was so madly in love with him that he could have worn clown makeup to bed and the other would think it was hot.

Tonight, Dew is thinking back to the moment he could see exactly how his dick quivered under Aether’s strokes, how he leaked onto those thunderous thighs, glistening. It’s not often Dewdrop pleasures himself alone, with more than enough ghouls willing to accompany him. And it’s even less often he takes his time to indulge himself, to really drag it out and appreciate his body. More commonly, he’s quietly cranking one out on the tour bus, or sticking his hand between his legs with fervour when he just can’t sleep.

He groans as he picks up those perfectly circular frames from his bedside, long having run out of contacts. If he didn’t know better he’d say Aether purposefully lost his prescription just to see him wear them.

As long as he keeps focused on his dick, he needn’t think about the horrors above. Dewdrop keeps his eyes below his neck with laser-point precision, dragging claws down his chest, catching on his scars as he lets the hand reach below to dip inside. It’s been months since he’s seen the way his cunt opens up around him, accommodates those sly fingers, and clenches when he starts petting in time with the short, needy strokes on his clit.

He’s struggling to even keep his eyes open now, whiny moans escaping his lips as he pumps his fingers inside. The visuals combined with the slick sounds of his digits, it’s too much. Dewdrop’s on the edge, seconds away from his release, only accelerated by being able to see his reflection thrown back at him. Just a few more pumps and –

“Dewdrop Ghoul! What have I said about using my conditioner?!” an even smaller ghoul shouts down the corridor before barging into his room.

In his hazed brain, Dew decides it’s the glasses he wants to hide from Aurora, not his state of undress, furiously pawing them off his nose as they clatter to the ground. 

“Fuck- Rory learn to knock once in a while!” he stutters, his foot delicately trying to hide his secret beneath the bed.

“Firstly, learn to lock a door, idiot,” she mumbles in reply, unfazed by the state of the ghoul before her, “Secondly, you get off to yourself wearing glasses? Sounds freaky,” she says, winking at the fire ghoul.

“They’re my glasses? I need them to see? Just don’t wear ‘em ‘cause they look silly.”

“Ohh so you like watching yourself then? Wouldn’t have put you down for that, seems like more of Rain’s vibe.”

Aurora moves to close the distance between them. She reaches down to pick up the dusty frames, blowing chilled air over them as she places them askew on Dewdrop’s face, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.

“Lucky for you, I love glasses,” she moans, bringing Dewdrop’s hand to cup her half hard cock, kicking as he makes contact through the skirt. Dew winces as he feels a dribble of slick leak onto the sheet below him.

She swiftly moves to his bedside, rummaging through Dew’s chest of goodies before returning with a sleek, blue suction cup dildo. Aurora sticks it squarely in front of the mirror, “Sit,” she barks.

He stares at it, standing proud against the dark floor, a shiver travelling through his spine at Aurora’s authoritative streak. He’s never seen this side of her, demanding, taking, she’s normally satisfied as a passive participant, happy to take what’s given as she basks in the pleasure. Seeing Aurora standing over him, imposing, he certainly doesn’t have to worry about lube.

Dew sinks sheepishly onto the silicone, knees bent beneath him as he moans at the renewed contact, ready for more after his near-ruined orgasm. Just looking at Aurora, still fully clothed, hand reaching beneath her skirt to pull those black panties down just enough to spring free, has him grinding on the toy.

“Did I say you could move?” she spits, saliva sticking to the lenses adorning his face.

“No ma’am,” the fire ghoul mumbles. He feels exposed, small, even beneath Aurora, the only ghoul smaller than him in every way. She just chuckles as she turns on the remote behind her back, Shit, she picked the vibrator.

He moans, distraught as his arms remain still by his side. His chest heaves and he blinks, looking at himself in the mirror, on his knees, pre running down the parts of the toy that didn’t quite fit in. Looking up he sees Aurora languidly stroking herself from root to tip, popping her hand off with a flourish each time.

She moans with each breath, the timbre drilling directly into Dew’s brain, he’s saving these sounds to repeat back next time he’s got himself alone in front of a mirror. To think about as he gets his fingers around his dick. The mental image is just as incredible; hair just grazing her shoulders, bouncing as she lolls her head back, pert nipples desperate to make themselves shown through her sheer crop top, and her thick happy trail, coarse hairs leading to the dripping cock she has in her hand.

Aurora moves between Dew and mirror, positioning herself so the fire ghoul can no longer see himself. He whines, what’s the point in wearing glasses if he’s not going to get a good look in? Alas, he continues to grind his hips as subtly as he can, clit twitching when the dildo hits the right spot. Dew stares up at Aurora, mouth agape as he breathes heavily. He goes to take her in his mouth, barely licking at the tip before the ghoulette pulls away, tutting.

“Only good boys get to suck mommy off. Good boys stay still when they’re told.”

He holds his head low, admiring Aurora’s feet, perfectly painted claws at the end of slim toes, covered in a smattering of light hair. He’ll unpack that another time.

“Head up, darling, you’re going to want to see this,” Aurora said as she gripped her cock harder now, tugging with a fiery passion, her free hand ghosting over a nipple before pinching tight as she howls, primal. With each stroke the sound of slick echoes in the room, accompanied only by the vibrator relentlessly hitting Dew’s g-spot, not quite enough to get him off but just enough to have him fighting the urge to writhe around.

Aurora bites her lip as she feels her orgasm cresting; legs struggling to support her, she grips Dew’s short horn to steady herself. The fire ghoul can’t help but double over at the pressure, those perfect hands rubbing at the base of the ivory, setting his nerves alight.

“Fuck Rory, ‘m close!” he says. Dew sucks in a breath between gritted teeth. These horns were new for the season, they’re incredibly sensitive- on par with his bottom growth- all it takes is a brush against it and he’s dripping.

“Don’t cum yet, baby, I want you to watch yourself come undone,” Aurora hurriedly mumbles between high-pitched feminine whines.

Just a few strokes later, Aurora’s cock is shooting her release right onto Dew’s glasses, milky white ropes sticking to the lenses, falling down and dripping on the fire ghoul’s red-hot face, clouding his vision as he keeps his eyes wide open in awe at the ghoulette. She milks herself dry, ensuring every last drop ends up on those frames. He looks absolutely ruined, cum trickling down his cheeks, ruby eyes hidden by the sheer amount of seed Aurora spilled, hips stuttering as he chases his release.

“Look how perfect you are for me,” she coos, letting her skirt fall down over her softening length as she moves away from the mirror, keeping a hand on the base of Dew’s horn, rubbing idly as if the ghoul attached isn’t about to explode. 

“Go on, get yourself all messy, show me how you get off when I’m not around.”

That’s all the permission Dewdrop needs to grab his dick between his thumb and forefinger before stroking with a fierce pace. His eyes drift to his reflection, it was like being inked in mario kart, still doing his best to look at the action despite being hampered by Aurora’s cum, maybe he should try this with Rain one day- get the real inky deal.

Hurried breaths follow as the ghoulette ramps up the vibrations- so intense the dildo is threatening to leave its position on the hardwood. Aurora, steadying herself on Dew’s horn, moves her foot gently up and down the inside of Dew’s thigh and it’s all too much for the fire ghoul. His orgasm punches him in the gut as his walls clench around the toy. He near-screams, hips grinding on the toy in earnest as he fucks himself through his orgasm, watching himself through the dirty lenses as his slick drips down the dildo.

Aurora dutifully tucks herself back into her panties, wetting them slightly with her slick cock, before she walks towards the door leaving Dew to clean up the both of their messes,

“You should really wear those more often, look real pretty like this.”

Dewdrop grins, maybe he will.

#glasses are hot pass it on #trifle writes #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #aurora ghoulette #aether ghoul #aethdew #aether/dew #dewrora #aurora/dew

[hero-deserves-to-be-happy]

Hero’s Messy Desk Drawer: An Unsolicited Fic Excerpt

(A/N: This fic excerpt is from a story that utilized our OCs (in an AU separate from our “When Sun Shines Again” series) but wasn’t posted to this blog because it didn’t follow our strict side ship rules and wasn’t really about Hero (aside from a brief subplot). We mods have agreed that this short, Hero-centric excerpt is acceptable, however, and have decided to post it since Mod Acacia’s headcanon about Hero’s junk drawer was just discussed in this post.)

OMORI SPOILERS but no other warnings just friendship and messy desk drawers here. Thank you for reading! 💙🧡🩷

There was something familiar, almost cozy about Hero’s room. In a way, it reminded Kel of the room they had shared back home. The left side of the room was bright and colorful with chaotic clusters of photos and posters on the wall. It was cleaner than Kel generally kept his room, but just as cluttered with books, CDs, school supplies, and bottles of something or other haphazardly strewn across the dresser and desk. Though the bed was made, the duvet was crinkled, wrinkly, and the pillows looked like they had been scooped up and thrown at the headboard in a hurry. Sunny would probably give it a 4 out of 10.

To be perfectly fair, however, it probably would have just looked “lived in” if it wasn’t for the right side of the room: simple with pale, muted colors, but perfectly pristine like something out of a catalog. Nothing was out of place, and there was no clutter to be had: no knickknacks, no mementos, and just three photos in matching gray frames on the desk. Every book, every record, every CD had been carefully placed on the shelf and all office supplies were housed in drawers or an unassuming gray pencil holder. The blue duvet was perfectly smooth with pillows perfectly arranged. Even their coats and bags that had been placed on the bed had been carefully, thoughtfully lined up in a neat order against the wall.

“No guessing which side’s Hero’s, huh?” quipped Aubrey as she climbed over the mattress for her purse. “Always neat as a pin.”

As she began digging through her bag, most likely for the case for her contact lenses, Kel turned towards Hero’s desk to search for the first aid kit. Like everything else belonging to his brother, it was clean, sanitized, boring though Kel felt badly for thinking that. He was happy to see the photos though—the only truly personalized things of Hero’s in the room. One was of him with his group of college friends—laughing together probably at some party just like this one by the look of it. The second was their most recent family photo, and the third was of their group of friends in Faraway Park when they were kids back when Mari had been alive.

Kel’s chest ached. They looked so different back then—especially Aubrey. He glanced over at her now, still digging through her bag, long pink hair rippling down her back rather than the dark brown locks she had sported in that photo and for the majority of her life. Her eyes were different too—an icy teal now from her colored contacts. That reminded him…he had better start looking for those eyedrops.

As he pulled open the bottom left drawer of Hero’s desk, he paused—blinking in surprise.

“Woah!” he exclaimed before he could stop himself.

“What?” asked Aubrey.

“This drawer is a mess,” he mumbled, so stunned he wasn’t even able to look up at her. In an entire lifetime of knowing Hero, Kel had never known anything of his brother’s to be a mess. He sighed and supposed that there really was a first time for everything. Kel’s brow furrowed as he began sifting through odds and ends—a whole junk drawer of papers, notebooks, books, a couple CDs, even some receipts, a few pictures, and who even knew what else. “There’s all kinds of crap in here…”

Aubrey snorted a partially stifled laugh. “I didn’t know Hero could make a mess.”

“Me neither,” quipped Kel, pushing some of the papers around looking for anything resembling a first aid kit.

“Hey uh…” She sighed. “Speaking of Hero…do you think he’s…”—she paused as if trying to think of the right word—“worried that we’d all be upset if he…if he was, you know—dating again?”

Kel stopped, but he sighed heavily. He had just been wondering the same thing after all. He shrugged his shoulders—focusing his attention on digging through the desk drawer, but he answered, “I think Hero worries about a lot of things he doesn’t have to worry about.”

“I just wouldn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t put himself back out there, you know… because of what we’d think or because he’s scared we’d be upset or think he was disrespecting Mari…” Her voice trailed. “I wish there was a way we could tell him that we’d all be happy…without it sounding like we were prying or making assumptions.”

Kel nodded, but let out a heavy, somewhat helpless sigh. “Don’t look at me. I’d probably just say the wrong thing,” he chuckled, self-deprecatingly—rubbing his hand across the nape of his neck.

“Kel…” Aubrey’s tone softened, but he didn’t look up at her, instead choosing to quickly shrug it off and change directions.

“Besides he says he’s not interested in having that kind of relationship anymore anyway, so he probably just isn’t—no matter what we’d think about it. You know how Hero is. He’s been…”—he paused, unable to think of the right word—“really weird about that kind of thing ever since Mari died. I just…I don’t know if he’ll ever want that again…”

As Kel continued rifling through the drawer, Aubrey sighed. “I know…and I understand that. I wasn’t suggesting we push him or anything I just…didn’t want to be part of whatever was holding him back.” She paused, sighing again. “He looked so happy, and…I really like her.”

“Me too. I’m pretty sure she’s the only reason I’m not failing math right now,” Kel bantered with a laugh before his face softened. He knew he didn’t have to say the rest—didn’t have to say how much he loved Zoey for being such a good friend to Hero, for always studying with him or going on runs with him at the crack of dawn, for helping him do the dishes at their college parties or talking to him about his favorite foods or favorite kinds of music, for being that lone voice of reason in Hero’s somewhat chaotic group of college friends, for making him laugh and smile, and, most of all, for bringing something out in him that they had never imagined they’d get to see again.

“But it’s really not like that,” Kel added, though he wasn’t sure if was reminding himself or reminding Aubrey. “They both swear they’re just friends, and I believe them. I mean, I wish…Maybe someday, but I just—it’s Hero. I don’t know if he’s ever gonna be ready for it.” Kel stopped with a heavy sigh—brow furrowing as he pushed some of the papers around in Hero’s messy desk drawer. “I mean…he’s got a bunch of books about widowers in here…”

“Kel, don’t snoop through Hero’s stuff,” Aubrey scolded with a huff.

Kel’s face flushed, but he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not trying to. It’s just such a mess in here. There’s papers everywhere and notebooks and books and CDs and…ooh! A present!” Curiously if also a little impulsively, Kel picked up a small, wrapped box tied with a red ribbon. “It’s heavy. I bet it’s jewelry.”

“Kel! Stop snooping,” Aubrey snapped at him. He fumbled around with the box before placing it back in the drawer.

“Look, I’m not being nosy. I’m just looking for the first aid kit. It’s not in here.”

Aubrey huffed. “You’re looking in the wrong drawer. Hero said lower right not lower left.”

Kel took a step back to stare at the desk—tilting his head. “Okay but…my right or the desk’s right?”

“Just check the other drawer!”

Kel closed the messy drawer then opened its identical twin on the other side of the desk—nearly empty except for a neat stack of blank notebook paper, a metal pencil case, and a first aid kit. “Found it!” he declared triumphantly—ignoring the way Aubrey was shaking her head at him.

#hero fic excerpt #hero and kel’s brotherly bond #it’s the brothers 💙🧡 #hero and aubrey friendship #their friendship is so wholesome and so underrated #hero kel and aubrey bestest friendship trio 💙🧡🩷 #love them sm #hero x oc #kinda?? #they’re just friends here but… #kel and aubrey are on board for hero finding love again #and so are sunny and basil #(but they’re not in this excerpt scene) #omori hero #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori oc: zoey #thanks for indulging us ^^ #omori spoilers #our content

[dipolardruid]

Okay but.. we all know how Yan!Stepmother see’s reader similar to her bio kid either the way they look with eyes/hair/anything with looks but how will she act when reader is trying to change those features? Like they want to wear contacts, dye their hair, or get piercings, and so on?

"Dye your hair? Why would you want that? You look perfect just as it is there shouldn't be any reason to damage your hair with unnecessary things." She says looking at you with her eyebrows slightly furrowed "Go ahead" Hearing your father you give a big smile before walking off causing Betra to look at him in Bewilderment "what?" He says in a confused tone.

Not long after you had asked for some colored eye contacts to which your father bought you in excitement you run inside the restroom once you make it home before going to the living room where your father is "How does it look?" Asking confidently "You look good." Your father says nodding his head and giving you a thumbs up.

Looking you see Betra intensely staring at you gripping her pen tightly "yes...you look good." She says in a tone much different from her stoic but firm voice she usually has almost as if disappointed, This causes your dad to look towards her only to see her awkwardly smiling and look between you and your father, He turns to face you again waving his hand at her "Negotiators who needs them?" Upon hearing that Betra looks at him in surprise her jaw dropping.

"How do you like them?" Looking towards your father giving him a smile "I really like them but they hurt quite a bit." You say touching the piercings lightly "of course they do now stop touching them." Grabbing your hand he puts it down on your leg "I should be back sometime tonight be sure to behave" he says as he parks infront of your house "I will bye." Closing the car door you head towards the house as he drives off.

Entering the house you look around seeing Betra on the table writing again "welcome back how did it go?" She says not looking up "good just got some piercings that's all." Almost immediately Betra looks up at you, she doesn't say anything just continues looking at you as you walk towards the fridge to grab something to drink.

Turning around you jump back seeing Betra behind you "Why?" She looks almost at the brink of tears as her brows start to furrow upwards, you look at her confused both your hands holding onto your drink squeezing it to your chest "why...what?" She touches the tip of your hair for a quick second before dropping her hand.

"Your beautiful hair, your eyes that don't need to be covered are and your ears that were nice and without a scar now will have many." She looks at your piercings before looking and taking another look at you her eyes widening for a quick second she puts both hands on your shoulders firmly squeezing "what am I....? No....you...you aren't.." she lets go of you and grab her things from the table before heading off to the bedroom leaving you alone stunned.

You squeeze your drink tighter a little unsettled about her behaviour but attempt to shake it off to the best of your abilities and going to your room, you're not to sure to call your father or not it's been a while since he had time to himself deciding to leave it alone you continue on with your day Betra not bothering you for the rest of it.

However the days after the incident you notice Betra almost avoiding you even seeming to not want to say your name or the nickname she gave you out of nowhere but don't say anything about it liking the space of not having her constantly breathing down your neck but the times she does pay you attention she's often asking about your grades, hobbies even the friends you're hanging out with.

Seeming to show more interest in them, you have also noticed how your dye seems to always grow mold before you can use them, you're constantly losing sight of your piercings and your contact lenses have been giving you eye infections.

Betra also seemed to convince your father to change your school from public to private, dyed hair, colored eye contacts and piercings were not to be worn in school.

Of course you were upset but there wasn't much you could do other than constantly argue but you know once they both are set on a decision there is no going back.

Betra waits until she sees your father leave the room before covering her mouth and giving a small smile "I'm going to have you back..." Betra can't help but smile at that before following after your father into the bedroom.

#my oc character #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere oc #female yandere x reader #female yandere #yandere female oc #yandere female #yandere mom #yandere mother #yandere step mother #platonic yandere #Betra

[victorscrown]

V I C T O R ‘ S  C R O W N  ⸻

type: excerpt

word count: 2,988

warning(s): mentions of alcoholism and drug abuse

status: published

⸻  C H A P T E R  [ 5 ]

"I feel ridiculous." Finnick stares down at the costume Calliope has wrangled him into, twitching against the itchy sensation of makeup and prosthetics coating his skin.

"Oh, tush," Calliope says with a dismissive wave. "You're both stunning." Not for the first time, she tugs Finnick's top apart to reveal more of his chest, which glistens bronze and gold with some sort of oily spray. "Quit trying to cover up. You're practically divine."

"I don't feel like it," Finnick whines. "Mags!"

Arms folded over her chest, Mags stands by, unimpressed and unmoved by Finnick's entreaty. "You want to win sponsors? Do what Calliope wants. That being said..." She darts forward and tugs on Finnick's skirt before Calliope can intervene. "We don't need close-up shots of Finnick's rear end being televised for all of Panem to see."

"At least let me apply more eyeliner?" Calliope pleads.

Mags is saved having to answer by Caspia's entrance. Garbed in a skirted jumpsuit of varying greens, blues, and greys, she strides toward them at such a clip her stylist is forced to jog to keep up with her. The oceanic hues of her costume's fabric shift and shimmer as she moves, reminding Finnick of the sea on a calm spring day. A golden collar encircles her long neck, glittering with semiprecious stones. Her thick black hair, loose except for a few strands pulled back from her face, is crowned with a headpiece made of coral, seashells, and pearls. Next to her, in his pale turquoise skirt and skimpy sash, Finnick feels even more foolish.

"Wait!" her stylist squeaks. "I haven't finished yet!"

"What more could you possibly do to me?" Caspia grouches. "I—" She nearly runs face first into one of the horses, and she actually would have if the handler hadn't thrown out an arm to stop her.

"Mercer, I can't wear these!" she snaps, gesturing at her face. "I'm as blind as a crayfish!"

Her closer proximity allows Finnick to see the reason for her blindness: She wears a pair of green contact lenses so bright they almost glow. Finnick doesn't have to wonder long why her stylist made such an odd fashion choice.

"But they're sea green, like Finnick's!" Caspia's stylist, Mercer, protests, trying to dodge Caspia's flailing arms and stick a netted comb into her hair simultaneously. He sports at least half a dozen piercings in places Finnick didn't know were possible to pierce. "Calliope and I wanted you to match!"

"None of the sponsors are close enough to see their eye color, Mercer." Abalone says as he walks up behind them. "And enough with the accessories. Between the two of them, they're decked out in more jewelry than One."

Stationed two chariots ahead of them, the tributes from One are adorned in magnificent costumes of crimson and cream, the girl clad in a long, caped gown, the boy in a crisp, sleek suit. The girl, Finnick thinks privately, is especially stunning, her short, dark brown hair tastefully curled, her dress glimmering with what appears to be thousands of tiny red jewels stitched into the cloth. Her head is adorned with a gold circlet inlaid with alternating red and white gems. Seeing her costume reminds Finnick of her name, which he heard yesterday evening when he watched reruns of the reaping. Ruby Riveta. And the boy is Alabaster. He's a tall, muscular boy with rich brown skin and a mane of coarse black hair, which has been plaited and woven with jewels matching those in Ruby's crown. With names like those, it's no wonder where District 1's stylists drew their inspiration from.

Finnick cranes his neck, searching out Cashmere, who he saw just months ago on her victory tour. She is nowhere to be seen, but her brother stands with both tributes, formidable and confident enough to make up for his sister's absence. Gloss. Finnick remembers him because he killed District 4's female tribute in the final conflict of his Games two years prior.

"Finnick!" Calliope's voice snaps him from his reverie. "It's time to mount up!" The horses, both a lovely white speckled with gray, have been primped and embellished almost as much as the tributes they're pulling. Bits of the sea—kelp, glass, coral—dangle from their silver-tinged manes, and a strand of pink pearls are strung across each of their foreheads.

Finnick climbs into the chariot next to Caspia and adjusts the white crown sitting lopsided on his head. Caspia has forgone the contact lenses, but Mercer managed to slap a few more strokes of shimmering blue and green makeup to her temples. She looks Finnick over appraisingly, lashes flashing with glitter. "Well, look at you. The Capitol isn't going to be able to get enough of you in that getup."

"You don't look too bad yourself," Finnick replies. A little ahead of them, the girl from District 2 has flipped her stylist over her shoulder.

Caspia smiles, but it's more a baring of the canines than an expression of joy. She lifts her arm, which is clad in a golden vambrace engraved with intricate depictions of the sea, in an unprecedented display of camaraderie.

Finnick clanks his own armored forearm against Caspia's good-naturedly. Calliope and Mercer are scurrying around them like a pair of anxious rabbits, making last-second adjustments, but seeing one of Two's stylists get thrown on her back has had a somewhat subduing effect on them. They are polishing the greaves covering both Finnick and Caspia's shins when Panem's national anthem starts blasting from somewhere overhead, and One's chariot takes off.

"Wait!" Something long is thrust into Finnick's hand: A trident, lightweight and clearly a useless prop, but a weapon nonetheless. Caspia gets handed something shorter.

"He gets a trident and I get a stick?" Before Caspia can leap off of the chariot and effectively end a life before the Games have officially begun, the handler urges the horses forward, and they pull Casipa and Finnick out into the evening sun.

Finnick debates switching his trident to his right side so he can block if Caspia tries to stab him with her stick, which upon closer inspection turns out to be some kind of spindle, but she's already busy ignoring him, her eyes fixed forward, a murderous look carved onto her stony face. Thousands upon thousands of Capitol citizens hem the paved avenue, their tumult magnifying the cacophony of sound coming from every direction.

On the television screens, Finnick spots himself and Caspia gleaming in the setting sun, their matching costumes splashes of vibrant color against the bleached stone pavement of the City Circle. Looking in the mirror earlier, Finnick was sure he would end up the laughingstock of the Capitol and of his fellow tributes in his meretricious costume and glamorous makeup. But staring at himself now, standing next to Caspia on the chariot, trident in hand, he understands why Calliope and Mercer have been District 4's stylists for so long. His makeup, a glimmering green-blue mask coating his eyes and cheekbones, is topped off by faux fish scales pasted to his face by a special glue. The costume itself, while revealing, has been tweaked to fit his slim frame, accentuated by the golden armor protecting his forearms and shins.

Then objects begin to fall, thrown by District 4's admirers in the crowd. Poppies, gull feathers, and other items associated with his home drop down like rain, and Finnick is careful to grab a few and hold them in his free hand.

"Finnick Odair!" A young girl barely older than he is screams and waves from the front row. She pitches something at him, but it falls short and the chariot barrels mindlessly past it.

Well, that simply won't do. Finnick jumps off of the chariot, pauses to regain his balance, and sweeps up the object from the ground. It's a small figurine shaped like a shark. As he runs to remount his chariot, the exaltation from his observers increased tenfold, Finnick catches the girl's eye and grins. He veers toward the short wall separating spectators from the tributes, pleased as their cheers swell from loud to deafening.

"Here, let's make a trade," he calls to her, and tosses her one of the poppies. The girl's entire face is flushed the crimson hue of the flower itself. He winks, then takes off after the chariot before the Peacekeepers on duty can intervene and ruin the effect he's so deliberately constructed.

What must his parents think about all of this, watching from the television back at home? Their precious son gallivanting around, wooing Capitol maidens like some kind of foolhardy libertine. They must be so proud, he thinks wryly. Well, they'll be even prouder when he makes it home in one piece.

Caspia eyes him as he makes a running leap back into the chariot, the little shark figurine still hot from the girl's palm. "You're too good at this."

Finnick just smiles and waves.

━━━━━━━━━ ♆ ━━━━━━━━━

The moment Finnick steps off the chariot, arms and cheeks aching, ears still buzzing with the thunderous ovation of the crowd, Calliope rushes forward and plants a kiss on his brow. "Oh, my dear Finnick, you were simply marvelous!"

   "Both of you were absolutely stunning," Mercer adds. Caspia grunts and tears the crown off her head. "District 4 is always fantastic, but this year I think you'll be something special."

If Finnick thought Calliope was ecstatic, she's practically serene compared to Ortensia. She comes flying into the Remake Center with a high-pitched shriek, nearly barreling over a pair of tributes dressed in fringed brown coats and wide-brimmed hats.

"Oh, you two!" she cries, flinging her arms wide. "You were absolutely magnificent!" She pulls each of them into a brief embrace, and Finnick can feel her trembling with excitement. "Oh, I can't believe it! Finnick, when you winked at that girl...half of the ladies in the audience swooned! Even I was impressed. I can't stay long, though; I'm booked to meet with sponsors until tomorrow morning. I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow for training." She gives each of them another perfunctory hug, then hurries away, her fish-shaped earrings bobbing like bait on a pair of hooks.

Mags and Abalone approach them next, thankfully a good deal more composed than their predecessors.

To Finnick's eternal pleasure, Mags gives him a smile—a genuine, bright, wonderful smile. "Well done, Finnick," she murmurs, giving him a pat on the back. "And you, too, Caspia. You both handled yourselves well."

Caspia shrugs. "Don't look at me. Finnick over here did all the work."

"And took a big risk, too," Abalone cuts in, blue eyes ice cold. "What if the Capitol had been less forgiving about you jumping off your chariot and prancing around like a fool? Mags wouldn't be so pleased if you'd been shot full of holes."

   Finnick smiles and gives Abalone a slight bow. "Thanks, Abalone. It's nice to know you care so much about my wellbeing."

Abalone shakes a stubby finger at him, face contorted in a scowl. "You watch your mouth, boy. I'm not some lovesick little girl you can bat your eyelashes at and get to do whatever you want."

"Everyone, let's go back upstairs." Mags starts to shoo them toward the elevator. "We can debrief, but it has to be quick. I already have meetings with sponsors lined up."

A pair of tributes walk toward them, independent of prep team and mentor. Ruby and Alabaster from District 1. "Can we ride with you?"

"The more the merrier," Finnick says, and steps to the side to allow them in ahead of him.

Mags gives him a discreet pat on the back and pries the shark figurine from Finnick's hand. "Smart boy."

Standing beside Finnick, Caspia stiffens, expression frozen somewhere between revulsion and scorn.

"Go with them," Abalone growls in her ear, just loud enough for Finnick to hear.

"But—"

"Go!" Abalone propels Caspia forward with a well-placed hand planted on her back. She stumbles, rights herself, then reluctantly matches her stride to Finnick's, flinging a scathing glare at her mentor over her shoulder.

Finnick can feel curious eyes following them as they trail One to the elevator and get on together, the doors hissing shut behind them.

"You two made quite a splash out there," the girl, Ruby, says. The elevator shoots upward, leaving Finnick's only reliable support on the ground below. He tries to focus on something else and immediately regrets it. Ruby's dress plunges in the front, and Finnick is having a hard time not staring at what her stylist clearly wanted people to stare at.

"Thanks," Finnick says, since Caspia looks one wrong word away from strangling Ruby with her own necklace. "You didn't look so bad yourself."

"I'm Ruby," the girl says. "This is Alabaster."

Alabaster smirks and jerks his head in greeting.

"I'm Finnick Odair," Finnick replies. "And this is Caspia."

"It'd be hard not to know your name, with the entire Capitol screaming it at the top of their lungs." Ruby winks, flashing Finnick an eyeful of red and black makeup.

Finnick raises his arms over his head to stretch, allowing a lazy smile to unfurl across his face. "What can I say? They love me out there."

Alabaster snorts derisively but otherwise doesn't comment. He regards Finnick with a critical eye, fingers playing with the gems studding his suit's lapels. The sight makes Finnick wish Mags had let him keep the shark figurine, if only to give him something to fiddle with.

"They're not the only ones," Ruby replies. "Did you see that girl from Seven? Actually, did you see the way half the Callows looked at you?" She giggles, a pitched, inelastic noise mustered from a pair of lungs that haven't quite mastered the art of joy.

To be ignorant of the way girls look at him would not only be obtuse but utterly stupid. There were girls at the academy, of course, girls who would peer at him from under their lashes and offer him vapid compliments and teasing jibes meant to garner them favor and stimulate his male ego. And Finnick would flirt right back, to the point of exasperation from Batten and elation from his female counterparts. Here in the Capitol, he had assumed everyone would be too preoccupied with figuring out how to survive the coming days to engage in such activities, but maybe to some tributes this is survival. Maybe to some tributes, the Games have already begun.

"Finnick was more concerned about what his bottom would look like on television than the other tributes," Caspia finally chimes in. To Finnick's chagrin, Alabaster snickers.  

"I had other goals in mind," Finnick says with a nonchalant shrug. "Isn't getting sponsors what this whole parade's all about?"

"Maybe. Or maybe the parade is for other things, too." Ruby looks up at Finnick through her long, black lashes and oh. Oh.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" He can sense Caspia's scorn beating down on him like the high noon sun, but he and Ruby are treading water deep over their heads and he's not about to retreat to shore now.

The elevator doors slide open. "I'm sure you'll figure it out." A bloodred smile, then Ruby sweeps out of the elevator, her arm brushing Finnick's as she passes. "See you tomorrow."

Alabaster imparts a farewell sneer as he follows his district partner out of the elevator. "See you around, Pretty Boy."

The second the doors have slid shut, Caspia pokes him with her spindle. "I thought your objective was to win the Games, not seduce every tribute you're going to be killing later."

Finnick falls back against the wall, feeling like he just swam from the trawler all the way back to the pier in one attempt. "They're going to be my allies before they're my enemies."

"Little Miss Princess looked like she wanted to be more than allies," Caspia points out. "She looked like she wanted to eat you up with a spoon."

An ember of satisfaction ignites in Finnick at Caspia's remark. According to the information publicized during the reaping, Ruby is eighteen years old, the only child of a pair of prestigious jewelers who are as close to wealthy as someone who isn't Capitolite can get. He doesn't know whether to be disgusted or flattered that she considered him worthy of her attention. "Guess I'm a natural."

"Guess you are," Caspia says. "I can see why Mags accepted you as volunteer."

Finnick blinks, caught off guard. "She didn't. I got reaped."

"Don't lie to me." Caspia folds her arms. Even off the chariot, she strikes an imposing figure, a sea deity commanding him to confess his sins. "You're too good at this to be anything but voluntary."

"You think Mags would've let me sign up for this?" Finnick says, indignant. "I'm fourteen."

"You don't think she took your age into consideration?" Caspia counters, brows raised. "Each mentor evaluates each potential tribute very carefully. They weigh the pros and cons, and how much of a chance they think you have at winning. In this case, I think Mags took one look at you, rich Finnick Odair, precious golden boy of District 4, and decided your age was a good thing. She probably thought, Finnick is so young, the Capitol will have no choice but to sponsor him. They'll take one look at his puppy eyes and pretty face and fall over themselves for a chance to throw their money at him."

"Don't talk about Mags like that," Finnick says, face hot with anger. "You heard how mad she was on the train. She wouldn't do that to me. Don't—"

"Don't what, don't tell you the truth?" Caspia tears off her golden collar and flings it to the ground with a heavy metallic thunk. "It's their job to bring home victors, Finnick. Not people. Out of all the male candidates, you must've been the one with the best chance, not in spite of your age, but because of it."

"If that's the case, I don't see why Abalone picked you," Finnick retorts. "The Capitol doesn't have any reason to back you. No personality, no motivation, no friends. I think you're just like Alabaster: jealous."

Caspia's answering silence tells Finnick he's struck a nerve. When he and Mags reviewed her history on the train, he was surprised to find that, while her life might have been considered tragic by certain standards, she had not capitalized on it the way others might have. Orphaned at a young age, she grew up in a nondescript inner-district children's home, worked at one of the many processing plants crowding District 4's inland, enrolled at the academy on a scholarship, and trained there until her final year, at the end of which she volunteered. A rather lackluster story for the drama-loving Capitol, and Caspia knows it.

The elevator doors glide open and Finnick storms out, too incensed to even look at Caspia any longer. The Games haven't even begun, and he's already starting to fight with his own district partner. He can't help but wonder what will happen now if they meet in the arena.  

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#series: victor's crown #fic: victor's crown #ch: finnick odair #thg #thg fanfic #finnick odair fanfic

[ayo-wheres-the-pxprika]

lester sinclair with a werewolf s/o

lester x gn!reader | headcanons

word count: 2,007... i got carried away

warnings: nudity (non-sexual), graphic depiction of transformation, mention of reader eating dead animals (i wrote this as an optional headcanon, so you can choose the vegetarian werewolf route if you wish) 

reader portrayal: unnatural eye colour; a bit secretive; outdoorsy; you’re kind of a mess (what lycanthropy does to a mf); but besides those traits, this can be applied to most readers

~ ♡ ~

Lester would be over the moon omg

Not only does he have a partner who he loves with all his heart, but they’re a WEREWOLF, too!? What more could he possibly ask for?

Before I continue, lemme give you some backstory

You had always been an enigma to Lester.

The first time he ever met you, he found you unconscious outside his cabin, your nude body littered with bruises and dirt. He immediately rushed to your aid, assuming the worst had happened to you, or perhaps you had escaped from Ambrose.

Only for you to wake up and seem... completely fine? No matter how much he pried and insisted on helping, you acted like this was a normal occurrence for you. 

“at least let me call someone for ya?” “nah, nah it’s fine, i’m okay” “are... are ya sure??” “oh yeah, it’s cool, this happens all the time lol” “wh-”

You had been wandering these woods for a while now and suddenly some kind stranger with a cute southern accent was offering to give you shelter? Well, you certainly weren’t gonna turn down such an offer. Even if he was a bit sketchy, you knew damn well that if anything, you would be the bigger threat.

Not to mention his dog, Jonesy, took an instant special liking to you, so how could he turn you away?

Over the next couple of months, you and Lester had grown a lot closer. Going from unexpected housemates, to best friends, and eventually to lovers.

He finally had someone who would listen to his late night rambling, who would remind him to take care of himself, who would be there to help his heart feel full. Lester was used to the feeling of loneliness, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

He hasn’t shared a home with anyone in a while, so coming home to you every night was truly a gift.

Oh, not to mention he found you absolutely stunning.

One of his favourite parts about you were your eyes, which were an unnatural, but beautifully rich shade of gold. He had never seen eyes like yours before, you always chalked them up to a “condition” he had never heard of before. It was always a shame when you hid them behind (e/c) contact lenses.

That was just one of your many… quirks.

For example, the fact that a number of your clothes were in rough shape, ripped and hastily stitched together. That one was easy to explain. You were the outdoorsy type, and was often a bit reckless during your daily adventures into the woods. Judging by your first impression, you weren’t exactly the most careful person in the world, and it showed through your wardrobe. It made sense.

Another thing. Jonesy adored you, almost admired you, in a way that Lester has never seen from her. The way she looked up to you like you were more than a parental figure or friend, but a leader -- constantly at your beck and call, cozying up to you, even the smallest scold from you had her whining for your forgiveness.

Call Lester crazy, but he felt like she had some sort of connection to you.

But of course, Lester and his brothers were all she had for years. You were new. You were kind to her. You gave her attention. Obviously she liked you, and wanted you to like her back. It made sense.

It just made sense.

And the last example… the one that Lester couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

At least once a month, you would hastily leave the cabin and disappear into the night.

“Just heading to the lake.”, you would say. 

Or “I’m taking a midnight stroll, don’t wait up for me.”

“Just gonna check in on Bo and Vincent, haven’t seen ‘em in a while, I’ll be back soon.” 

Always a harmless, yet rushed explanation. Before he could even protest or ask questions, you were already out the door.

You wouldn’t come back until the early hours of the morning, when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon; eyes foggy, shoulders slumped, dragging yourself through the door, and smelling of blood, dirt, and…something he couldn’t quite place his finger on (dog fur, maybe?). 

It always worried him. No matter how many times he asked, you always waved him off with an excuse.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, honey… guess I lost track of time.”

“Got caught up with shit in Ambrose, you know how that goes...”

“Fell asleep in the woods... again.” accompanied with a chuckle.

But! But… as mentioned before, you were adventurous, and you were far too reckless for his own liking... yeah, that had to be it. You’ve always been a night owl anyway. That made sense, right?

Right?

He always had an excuse or explanation for your behaviour.

I mean... what the hell was he supposed to think?

Sure, you were odd, but god did he love you. If anything, your weirdness was what made you so special.

It all led up to one night, however.

Nightfall was quickly approaching, and you were preparing for another one of your “midnight walks”, or whatever innocent excuse you made up that month.

He was tired of staying up late, worried sick about you, just hoping and praying that you’d come home safe; only for you to arrive at the cabin in rough shape, shutting him down with a half-assed excuse.

Lester has always been wary of rocking the boat, growing up in the Sinclair household made its mark on him that way. He never liked conflict and often shied away from confrontation, but he just couldn’t stand to see you get yourself hurt.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to you... more to these secret late night endeavours 

He had to know the truth.

He followed you into a clearing in the woods where the full moon shone upon you, bathing your skin in a light glow.

Oh, how you wished you could bask in its comfort like you used to.

It wasn’t until you stripped yourself down, body jolting uncontrollably and writhing in pain, when he finally revealed himself.

You couldn’t even properly warn him before you could feel everything start to warp together, and your much more inhuman persona taking over. 

Your desperate cries for him to run away were drowned out by animalistic grunts and howls.

He watched with a pale face as your face twisted and elongated into a snout, your bones shifted and grew until they were threatening to protrude from your skin.

(h/c) hair sprouted from your skin until you were completely covered.

Holy shit, were those claws?

Time dragged on. 

He couldn’t move.

You finally straightened up to your full height, head touching the tree branches above. Drool dribbled from your snout as you bared your elongated sharp teeth, face twisted in pure bestial rage, glaring down at him with those all-too familiar gold eyes.

All Lester could do was stare up at you, eyes watery and his face devoid of colour.

After what felt like an hour of silence, you let out a huff and retreated into the surrounding woods, leaving Lester in his stupor.

.

.

.

so, his partner can transform into a 9-foot tall, feral, terrifying beast that could easily kill him if they pleased...?

That would certainly explain, well, everything. Your odd first encounter, your eyes, your unexplained trips into the woods...

Also, what the fuck, werewolves actually exist?

Wow.

It was a lot for both of you to take in; he was completely stunned, and you were debating whether or not you should even come home that night. He probably didn’t even want to see you, right? He’d probably chase you off. It would be the smart thing to do. 

Who the hell wants a violent monster in their life anyway?

(literally the entire slasher/monster fucker community, but whatever)

The morning after, he found you passed out on his doorstep, almost identical to how you looked when he first met you.

Everything clicked in that moment, and he finally snapped out of his night-long stupor.

He had so many questions.

But first, your well-being was his top priority, and just like how he did many months ago, he didn’t hesitate to rush to your side and bring you to safety.

.

In the present:

You and Lester are literally that meme of the cute happy dog sitting beside the Kessler werewolf statue (this one).

He LOVES to cuddle up to your wolf form; you’re at least twice his size, fluffy, and radiate lots of body heat. You are the best all-natural bed ever (once he gets you to stop growling at him).

If you’re not opposed to it, you’re able to eat raw meat. It’s certainly a pro for him, since you can hunt for yourself, he has one less mouth to feed. He does insist on snagging some fresh roadkill for you whenever he can, because he loves you :)

Will be more than happy to give you head/back scratches.

Jonesy’s behaviour made so much sense to him. Of course she admired you, she was aware of how powerful you really were. She saw you as the leader of the pack (and of course you loved her just as much).

Oh, and he ADORES how protective you are of him. No matter how tall or short your human form is, you always step in and guard him from whatever poses a threat.

Whether it’s a rude tourist or Bo being a dick, you always step in and defend Lester.

You growled at Bo once. Like, a full-on guttural wolf growl.

“Christ, what the fuck was that, (y/n)!?” meanwhile Lester was cackling like a witch from behind you.

If you ever become comfortable with showing him, Vincent would be fascinated by your unique eyes, and perhaps try to draw or paint them. Thankfully he never pried too much about your, uh, “condition”.

Lester makes sure you have a soft landing on full moon nights. Those nights were always the hardest for you, when your body and mind completely betray you and you’re forced to succumb to your own power. The emotional and physical exhaustion wore you down badly.

He greets you with a comforting hug, whispering sweet words in your ear as he guides you to the bathroom to help you get cleaned up. He caters to your every whim; fetching water or food from the kitchen, tending to your wounds, or even just letting you pass out on top of him.

Eager to help in any way he can (he just wants an excuse to hang out with a giant werewolf, could you blame him?)

He talks you down. Even when you’re towering over him, claws outstretched, and baring your large teeth, he tries his best to calm you. Hands reaching out to your hulking frame, speaking to you with that gentle, kind tone you loved so much.

“(y/n)? ... hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, darlin’. it’s just me... it’s time to come home now.”

INCREDIBLY patient with you.

I like to think that you’ve helped him become more confident and assertive. I mean, if he can tame a seething beast, surely he can do anything.

Talking back to Bo, for example:

Bo: you can be such a dumbass sometimes

Lester: uh... no u

(cue you going “OOHHHHH” in the background)

To conclude, he wouldn’t let your powers get in the way of your relationship. If anything he just thought you were the coolest, most badass person he had ever met.

Besides, after everything you’ve done for him, do you really think he’d let you go so easily?

It would’ve been real stupid of him to chase his light, his joy, out of his life for no real reason. It didn’t matter if you had supernatural powers, he loved you dearly, and he certainly won’t be letting you struggle with them alone.

In his words, “you can get used to anything if you’re around it long enough”. Including, but not limited to, coexisting with a monster.

~ ♡ ~

i GOT SO CARRIED AWAY-

i really wanted to write this in a scenario/short story format, but bruh my brain was NOT cooperating. the headcanon format kinda allows you to be more informal and messy, so i just went with that. however, i do have two more scenarios i wanna make about this topic:

1.) bo and vincent finding out about your powers

2.) lester calming you down in your wolf form

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #slashers #lester is a slasher in spirit. not in practice #slashers x reader #slasher fandom #slasher headcanons #slasher imagines #sinclair brothers #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #ayo where's the writing

[katsukikitten]

In which you find yourself fake dating Bakugou to appease his mother. Thank @bakugotrashpanda​ that I even write. Comment your thoughts below or if you’re shy leave me an ask! AGED UP/PRO HERO AU, and dolls there are currently no warnings.   Part on is HERE

Anger fuels your actions as you withdraw a knife, face twisted into a feral snarl as you close the distance between you and your not so lucky boss. He matches your disgusted features, closing faster than you can to keep your knife from finding purchase between his third and fourth ribs. He corners you out of sight, the woman who was attending to you turns away with a blush. Truly thinking the two of you were having an intimate moment when it was anything but.

"This joke isn't fucking funny." You growl struggling to keep your voice low as his vice grip on your biceps becomes harsher. 

"It's not a fucking joke." He hisses, before one of his hands runs through his hair. A sign of stress you noticed for the ash blonde, while the other hand sets blunt nails into your skin. You blow air through your nose as if you were a steaming dragon waiting for him to explain. 

"My mom won't leave me the hell alone about a girlfriend. Like I fucking have time for one." He starts and you break away from his grip.  

"Then we just pretend." A huff while he shakes his head. 

"But we have to make it look good. She will expect PDA, and a lot of it." You laugh at his statement while he looks away. 

"Please as if Dynamight is touchy feely." You tease making hand motions as you let your fingers play against his clothed muscles. He gives you a pointed look, something odd shines deeply in those dark eyes. Something like hurt, your smile falters for a moment as you watch him peek over a guarded wall. 

"Growing up I was. And still am with people I...know well. Plus she's already seen me in a serious relationship." 

"Then why aren't you bringing her?" The venom escapes you faster than you can stop it. Regret blooms in your stomach as you watch his guard blow sky high, burning sugar fills the air. His glare pure anger as he bites out 

"She only loved me for my Pro-hero money." 

He turns away from you to collect himself, angry that he's still angry over a bitch that should be long forgotten. Still your tongue was sharper than any knife on your thick yet fit body. He sighs, trying to let the tension free from his shoulders before he reluctantly offers you his large, ungloved hand. 

The thought of your bare palm touching his sends your stomach into a summersault before he grabs onto your hand himself, even interlacing your fingers. 

It had been years since you held someone's hand, let alone been close enough to smell them. A cold sweat prickles over your skin before he speaks. 

"Let's make this shit look good." 

With that he pulls you out of the store, setting off rhythmic short blasts so nothing but blinding light can be caught on film. Some camera's lose their lenses thanks to your sly hands as you shove them deep in Bakugou's jacket that he insisted you'd wear over your cute outfit. That his mom would take it more seriously that you wore his clothes that he might have offered to you. 

Your hand feels warm in Bakugou's as he guides the two of you down the street, eyeing jewelry through glass windows here and there. He tries to keep his focus on the way to the bakery instead of how small your hand is in his.

"So is there something special about tonight's dinner? Any sort of occasion?" You prompt, anything to avoid the squeezing in your heart. 

"It's her birthday today." He says nonchalantly as your anxiety skyrockets. 

"Birthday?! Baku-" 

"Katsuki." He cuts you off, sending you a glare, "It has to be Katsuki or some dumb pet name from now on, Princess."

You point daggers as you glare up at him, his slightly messy hair dances in the wind as his faded sides do anything to protect him from the biting cold. You think to offer him his jacket back, it felt three sizes too big. 

"Look, Katsuki a birthday dinner is a big fucking deal. She'll think we are serious." The two of you stop just before the bakery, he let's go of your hand to open the door for you, a habit he's picked up from Kirishima. You step inside the warmth and let the smell of mouth watering sweets over take your senses. The smell fights with the smokey sweet scent that rolls off of Bakugou as he crowds closer to you due to the busy cafe.

"Good. She needs to think we are. Before you say anything else it's one dinner. She won't remember by Christmas." He snarls, pressing his hand into your lower back to gently push you forward in line. Suddenly someone behind the counter waves to catch your attention. 

"Ah Dyna-" The clerk clears his throat before he causes a frenzy, most people already too timid of Bakugou to approach him, having you the tough as nails hero by his side makes him seem even deadlier. 

"Bakugou-sama. I just finished the decorations for the order. Would you like to approve it?" 

"Yea yea." He says cooly, eyes glancing over his usual cup of an iced americano, he taps the lid and the Barista gives him her full attention. Lashes batting as she practically squirms with pleasure beneath his weighted gaze, you fight to keep the disgust off your face. How could anyone fawn over this wet blanket?

"I need a toasted white mocha iced coffee with sweet cream." His voice is smooth and she begins to get to work even without his please but you're caught too off guard to scold him.  How did he know your coffee order? 

You always went to get the coffee with Kirishima and only then for an excuse to get out of the office and away from a pig headed blonde. 

"Trying something new?" She asks as she sets it down, her number clearly written on this cup as well. You keep your face blank as she ignores you. 

"Maybe." He says giving her little eye contact as the owner pushes her away to show off the cake.  He removes the lid of the box and before it is all the way off a genuine, although small, smile forms on his face as he stares at the beautiful array of flowers in icing. Another surprise that his face can go so soft before it changes in an instant. His normal cocky smile returning as he removes his wallet and over pays for it all. 

"This is too…" But the owner is cut off by a nasty vermillion glare before he passes you your coffee grabbing for his own and the bag. 

"See ya round." Is all he offers before slipping out of the ringing door. Stunned into silence you drink your delicious drink as you two make your way back to his car. 

"It's cold enough that the icing won't get fucked up. Are you cold? I want to get that hag one more thing. Not sure what though." He says gently placing the cake into the floorboard of the back seat. 

"Well for starters I'm sure she'd love it if you stopped calling her a hag. That's rude, dickface." You say finishing your coffee, body singing from the much needed energy. He rolls his eyes at your comment, grabbing for your trash as he tosses his empty cup as well. 

"Yea well, she pisses me off." He grunts, eyes shifting for cameras before letting his hand slide down your forearm to your hand. You jolt from the touch but absentmindedly lean into his warmth. 

"Mmhmm." You affirm with a bit of an attitude. He sneers down at you as the two of you actively look for anything that screams Bakugou Mitsuki. 

Although you aren't so sure you know what that would be. Your mind wanders to what his family is like as his molten eyes rove over window shops and glare at passer byers. Anyone with their phone out and aimed at him gets an especially intimidating look. 

"Do we have a background to our fake relationship?" You ask, curiosity bubbling through your bloodstream carried by caffeine. 

"Kinda explains itself doesn't it?" He prompts, "We work together a lot. She's heard your name before." 

"Oh." Is all you can say, would his mom ask for details? Well it wouldn't be too hard to believe that she would want the story most likely from you, hoping you'll gush over the details any other man would skimp. A sigh leaves your lips before your eyes catch an odd glint in the light, ahead of you two is a small woman beneath a parasol as if the lazy winter sun threatened the day. Your eyes blow wide as she turns, heart racing in your chest as you see the black kimono and fox mask slightly askew. 

Quickly you grab onto Bakugou's black dress shirt, backing yourself up against a brick wall, guiding him with you. 

"What are you doing?" He hisses as your brain panics, he sees a rare twinge of fear in your eyes. Setting him in high alert, his skin crackles as he tries to summon his quirk. 

"It's just...I think I saw my ex and I'm not ready to see him yet." A lie, a bold face lie as you fight the screaming need in your blood. To withdraw a knife, to send it through that bitch's third eye chakra. 

But if you did, then everyone would know. 

Bakugou would know. 

You gulp down the instinct. 

"Where?" He growls leaning closer to you to block your face. The busy crowd overlaps the petite woman in black before it parts again leaving you with an uneasy pit in your stomach. 

"I-" You catch your breath, smoothing his dress shirt as your eyes are fixated to the spot, "I guess I only thought I saw him." 

Your voice threatens to crack and in the three years the two of you have worked closely together, he has never seen you like this. Worried, disheveled almost. He leans in close, leveling himself to you as he stares into your eyes. 

"Did he…?" His eyes linger over your scars for a second, unknowingly and for the first time, Bakugou makes you feel weak. Your eyes screw into a nasty sneer before you give him a light shove. 

"No." You hiss, wanting to cross your arms but after what looked like a kiss, you gently relax your face, grabbing for his hand as you pull him along.  Suddenly tired of the easy stroll and knowing exactly what to get his mother.  

"A watch? Not a bad idea." He says as the two of you look over the case. 

"No, too old fashioned. Your mom would like this." A smile forms on your lips as your finger taps the glass case over a silver bracelet. In your head you've seen four different ways to take the bracelet without alarm or notice until it was much too late. Instead you flag someone down. 

"Do you all still inscribe in house?" You ask, earning a nod from the attendant, "Perfect. Now Ba- Katsuki you just have to think of something nice to say." 

He glares down at the bracelet for a long time before he writes something down on the form. After an hour the man returns asking Bakugou to confirm the writing after a nod and a few minutes the hot head is passed a delicate white bag. 

Time blurs together as your eyes search the crowd for a haunting fox mask while Bakugou guides the two of you to the car. Shutting the passenger door behind you and only then do you let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

The drive isn't long before Bakugou pulls up in front of a nice two story townhome, parking his black sports car.

"Get out." He states, slipping out of the car himself only to wait impatiently by your door. 

"This is turning into a lot more than half a day." 

"Make it through this dinner and I'll make it worth your while." He snarls, picking up the gift and cake before heading to the front door. He slides in his old key and opens the door to his childhood home expecting you to follow him in. Tentatively you do, slipping off your shoes much slower than him as he rushes to the kitchen. Your heart rushes in your ears banging against your ribcage as your mind races. You had never been in a home so nice before, well not invited anyway. You always had to resort to climbing through windows or picking the lock to reveal the shiny contents of inside. 

Was this what it was like to grow up in a home?

Your third thought only after mentally logging the windows and doors, listing the valuables in descending order. Your eyes wander over the pictures on the foyer table, you smirk to yourself as you see a tiny Bakugou with what must be his mother and Father. They are all laughing and for a moment your heart hurts as you think of your sister shivering under a piss covered blanket.

"Oi! Come here." Bakugou calls from somewhere within the house, you pass the stairs and small hall into the dining room with tatami doors that open into the kitchen. 

"Sit." He orders, pointing to the low dining room table. 

"I'm not a dog, I'm your 'date' Asshole." You snarl, "What are you doing anyway?" 

"What's it fucking look like? I'm cooking! Ma will be home by the time I'm done. Get comfortable, bitch face." 

"Wow what a great pet name." You hiss, collapsing into the pillows with a sigh, part of you wished this was a kotatsu so you could take a nap. Instead you stare at the ceiling mind wandering as the smell of something good floats through the house. You think of how warm the home feels compared to the blistering wind that whips outside, reminding you that maybe you should fix your hair before meeting his parents. 

"Bathroom?" You whine, still unmoving on the floor. The hot head sticks half his body over the threshold to stare down at you. His glare speaks a thousand words. 

"Yea yea hands to myself I got it." 

"Upstairs, to the right."

"Got it boss!" You fake salute from the floor before rising. Taking the stairs quickly, fully intending to take a right but the door at the top of the stairs is slightly open. A faint smell of caramel tickles your nose as you near closer. Peering inside you see what had to be Bakugou's childhood bedroom, seemingly untouched. Bed made, All might and singed villains hang from the walls, some long forgotten laundry in a basket and a bookshelf filled with a variety books. 

His room was bigger than your current studio apartment and all you can do is sigh. And wonder. Trying not to feel jealous over the nice life he clearly had growing up while you were kept in a dark room to "strengthen your mind" for days at a time. Still it's not as if it were Bakugou's fault, he was just lucky. And you wouldn't wish your childhood on anyone. 

Not even Bakugou. 

Your record mentioned your thefts but never your much darker past. And how could they? It had been drilled into you how to clean up after yourself.

Habit forces your hand for something, anything as you snatch a small keychain of Allmight and shove it into your jeans pocket. 

"You lost?" Bakugou yells through the quiet home. 

"No, a woman takes her time!" You shout back slamming the door. Staring into your reflection as you wish for the night to end. 

It doesn't end as quickly as you'd like but it goes by at a decent pace. Introductions come easy and Mitsuki smiles brightly at you which feels like a good sign. Dinner goes by smoothly, the food delicious as you even help yourself to seconds. 

Surprisingly the Bakugous are easy to talk to, it felt as if you'd always know his parents. Laughing over shared stories and even listening intently to their work and fashion. 

"So what did you think?" Mitsuki asks as Katsuki goes to clear the table. You try to stand to help only for his broad hand to land on your shoulder, forcing you back into a seated position. You straighten your back. 

"Ah dinner was delicious. I didn't know Katsuki-kun could cook so well." You smile as her face begins to sour. Uh oh.  

"KATSUKI ARE YOU NOT FEEDING HER? HOW HAS SHE NOT HAD YOUR FOOD NOT ONCE? YOU JERK YOU BETTER NOT BE SOME ASSHOLE THAT MAKES THE WOMAN COOK!" 

"LISTEN YOU HA-!" He stops himself and glances at you causing you to quickly intervene. 

"Oh Bakugou-san…" 

"Mitsuki-san." She inturrpts, suddenly level headed as she looks to you. 

"Mitsuki-san, Katsuki and I have only been dating officially for a month. We haven't had the chance for a home cooked meal yet." You lie with a sweet worried smile that Mitsuki buys. 

"I see, so what is it that you like about my bullish son?"  

Nothing, is what you want to say, looking at him to buy you time as you think. Slowly the words come to you. You think of how he knew your coffee order, how angry he looked on your behalf when he thought the person who carved you up was someone you once loved. 

"Underneath all that brutish attitude is a really nice guy. He can be kind and caring. He is heroic despite his mouth." He looks as surprised as his mother when you speak before she smiles. Bakugou keeps his eyes trained on you as he returns from the kitchen with the cake and gift. 

"Here." Bakugou sets the small gift box in front of his mom, who tears into it immediately. She smiles looking down at the bracelet as she turns it to see the inscription inside. Her eyes water as Masaru smiles reading the words aloud. 

"Family first." He rubs Mitsuki's back as she quickly wipes away a stray tear. 

"I think it's time for the photo album." 

"NO!" 

"YES!" She slams the old book down, flanking your other side to look over the pages with you.  Awkwardly you offer a smile as Katsuki groans beside you. 

"Mooooom!"

"Hush ungrateful brat! It's my birthday!" Mitsuki says as if it's final, Katsuki grumbles in defeat. 

She pours over the pictures, pointing out things here and there, after a while you begin to smile. Relishing over the fact you're probably the only person who's seen their boss' embarrassing baby pictures. 

"I should blow these the fuck up!" Bakugou growls, reaching for the album. You grab onto his poppin hand to stop him. 

"No, you're so lucky you have these…" Fuck, you're about to make things super awkward, there will be a dreaded question and no matter how many times you answer it, even if it is a lie, it hurts. Feeling as though an icy hand cradles your heart as it beats, fingers becoming an uncomfortable vice. 

"Why? Did something happen to your photos?" The pity in Mitsuki's voice digs beneath your skin, you sigh. 

"They were lost to a fire." An easier lie to the actual truth. Honestly you weren't even sure if you had ever been photographed before. 

Maybe just your mug shots. 

Still you couldn't stomach the thought of telling Mitsuki that you didn't know whether your parents died tragically or if they left you and your sister to die in the streets. 

After a moment Mitsuki presses her hand to your back, a brief rub before she presses into your shoulder blade, as if you remind you she was there. 

"Well, you always have family here dear." She smiles softly, your heart flutters. The Bakugous, even if it was supposed to be pretend, felt like family to you.

"Thank you." You smile back as Mitsuki allows you to flip the page. Your smile forms into a smirk as you see a smaller version of your hot headed boss standing next to a boy with curly emerald hair. 

"You and Izuku used to be good friends huh?" You tease, "What happened?" 

Bakugou doesn't react as you expect him too, he is not raging and cursing instead his face is calm, open. 

"Pride got in the way." His words somber, "But Deku's over it." 

A small silence falls over the room from Katsuki's honesty, Mitsuki glances at her husband who gives a small nod. Still you stare at the ash blonde who starts to crowd you, something odd sitting on his face. 

"Are you?" The question falls from your plush lips. Bakugou grits his teeth

"Turn the fucking page." And you do, the next picture his graduating glass and you are elated, excited to see your newfound friends in their youth. 

"Eijoru-kun! Gods look at his hair. It was so short then! Look at how close you guys are!" 

The next hour is shared over cake and memories. It feels good to be "family" if only for the night. 

"It is getting late Mitsuki dear." Masaru says softly, pulling a sigh from his wife. She stands and everyone follows. She gives hugs out by the door, squeezing you especially tight. 

"Oh Katsuki! The two of you should have Christmas dinner here, we are having fried chicken!" Mitsuki exclaims, immediately Bakugou shuts it down giving you a look as if you gave her the idea  

"No! We havta work." He shrugs his shoulders, holding out his jacket for you to slip into. Slowly you slip your arms in as you watch disappointment wash over Mitsuki's features. 

Don't say it, don't say it don't say it. 

You ignore the voice in your head and say it anyway. 

"Actually, Eijirou forced us off Christmas remember? Since we've worked so many in a row." Bakugou bristles, obviously agitated as he roughly places the jacket on your shoulders, resting his hot hands there. 

"Come on we didn't have any plans right?" 

A part of you does it for the money, another part of you does it out of loneliness.

He glares at you, squeezing you so hard you're sure it'd be bruised. 

"Fine." He bites out while Mitsuki grabs at his ear. 

"Don't act as if we are a chore!" She taps her bracelet, "Family first!" 

"Family first." He growls and you're learning this is what they say instead of 'I love you'. He tries to guide you out to the car but his mother grabs his sleeve. 

"It'll be just a moment dear." She smiles at you, Bakugou goes into his pants pockets for the keys for you but you are already dangling them with a devilish smirk. His eyes harden as you turn to give him your back. Hand smoothly removing the old All Might keychain to attach it to his keys. A part of you will wonder if he will notice. 

Meanwhile Mitsuki gives Bakugou a deadly look before an even deadlier hug. 

"I really like her." She pulls away allowing Bakugou to step outside, "Don't fuck this up." 

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fake date #bnha x reader #bnha au

[mourntheantagonist]

aaah hc: steve having shit eyesight and having to wear glasses but obviously no one knows because he always wears contacts. and then one day he runs out so he has to wear his glasses. and like billy sees him with glasses for the first time and hes so in love because steve looks so adorable. and steve is literally blushing bc :"))) and billy keeps calling him a nerd

this was sent in like two months ago!! sorry it took so long 💙

but YES steve wearing glasses makes me WEAK

steve is near sighted as fuck. he didn’t actually get his eyes checked until his eighth grade year because he was failing nearly all his classes because he could never see the board, and he didn’t really think anything of it until his history teacher had pulled him aside after weeks of seeing him not taking notes. he told her he couldn’t see what she was writing and found it difficult taking notes by just listening. so she had moved him to the front of the class, which proved just as unsuccessful. so finally he was taken to the eye doctor.

steve knew he needed glasses, but he was actively avoiding that possibility. people at school were constantly being made fun of for them, so he’d rather go out blind because steve’s reputation mattered to him.

but he was in the car with his mom on the way to the eye doctor and he knew there was no avoiding it now.

and of course they told him he needed glasses. set him up with a prescription and made him pick out a set of frames they had. his mother made him get the square black frames that just screamed “nerd”

and then he didn’t wear them. he’d put them on before he left the house and immediately put them back into their case as soon as he was out of his parents sight. he told his teacher that he didn’t need glasses which she reluctantly accepted, and he tried his best.

until he forgot to put them back on one day and his dad figured it all out. that’s when he convinced his parents to give him contact lenses, and he wore those every day and his glasses remained untouched. he wouldn’t even wear them around the house by himself.

nobody knew he needed glasses except for him and his parents. not even tommy or carol knew about it. and he successfully made it over three years without ever having a slip up.

until that one fucking morning when the world seemed to be against him. his fucking contact went down the drain and it was his last one. and it’s reached a point where he’d gotten so used to them that he couldn’t even function without them.

so he swallows his pride, and put the damn things on. and he hates it. hates the way they feel on his face and he can already hear the gasps and whispers of everyone around him as soon as they see him.

he was definitely being over dramatic. the worst he received was a couple of stares of confusion out of people. nobody gave as much of a shit as he did.

except for one person. billy. of course it would be fucking billy.

they were on better terms now, but that didn’t mean the relentless taunting came to an end. with the glasses, steve was giving billy bait on a hook. he was not surprised when billy pointed out the nerd glasses.

billy ws absolutely relentless about it all day. just constantly staring at him and greeting him with various names raging from four-eyes to specks and of course, nerd. and as much as he hated having attention drawn to him like that... he liked having billy’s attention, blue eyes glued to his brown ones that were hidden behind thick glass. it did hurt just a little bit that it was negative attention, but he just brushed the names off and went on with his day, ignoring the ache on the bridge of his nose from underuse.

but fuck, billy was literally following him around like a lost puppy. he was there behind every open locker, around every corner, or right over his shoulder and steve was getting irritated. he managed to make it through that whole day of school without completely blowing up, and instead saved the explosion for when they bumped into each other in the parking lot. because of course billy had to park the camaro directly to the left of the beemer.

all it took was the fifteenth drop of the word ‘nerd’ for steve so completely lose his shit.

“what the fuck is your deal hargrove? look I’ll come to school blind tomorrow, would that make you happy?”

before billy could protest, steve was already jumping into the drivers seat and peeling out of the parking lot, leaving a wide eyed and stunned billy left standing there.

steve tosses the glasses onto the table as soon as he gets home, his vision suddenly growing blurry and he doesn’t even care. he just drops himself onto the living room sofa and lets his eyes fall shut, massaging the bridge of his nose and the space behind his ears that had grown sore.

he has a growing headache that he’s unsure if he should attribute to the vision or just his plain bad day.

around forty minutes of being home, there’s a knock on his door, which is odd. the only person whoever came around his house was dustin and he sure as hell didn’t knock. steve begrudgingly put his glasses back on and looked out his front window to see that fucking blue Camaro parked out in front of his house.

this better be good.

steve was not at all expecting to see what he saw on the other side of that door.

billy was standing there. same clothes same ridiculous hair, but his eyes were hidden behind a pair of glasses just like his own. his were rimless and rectangular and made him look like a grandfather.

“you here to mock me some more?” steve asked, preparing to slam the door right in his face.

but billy stopped it with the slam of his hand. “I wasn’t mocking you before.”

steve scoffed. “then what do you call it?”

billy kind of just stood there for a minute. looking up and down at the ground while steve stood there impatiently waiting for an answer. billy’s shoe was digging into the concrete, wearing away the the soles of his boots and he mustered up the courage to just fucking do it.

one second, steve was on the verge of slamming the door for the second time, the next, two pairs of glasses clanked against each other and a pair of lips were on his own, cutting off his breath. steve’s hands unconsciously snaked around to billy’s hips and pulled him in closer, kissing him back the moment he gathered his bearings.

when their lips parted, faces still inches away from each other, steve could feel billy’s breath warm on his nose and cheeks.

“I call it pulling your fuckin’ pigtails harrington,” billy brought a finger up to steve’s face and pushed his glasses back up from where they had slid down his nose. “cause you look damn good in glasses pretty-boy.”

suddenly, nerd, specks, and even four-eyes didn’t bother him anymore.

and he didn’t bother ordering any more contact lenses.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #headcanons

[laurenairay]

Make Me a Fool - T. Barrie

Summary: Sofia is tired of going on dates with the wrong guys - when a meet-cute with Tyson turns into only friendship, will she ever have anything more than that?

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: meet-cute, fluff, pining, friends to lovers, some bad language

A/N: this is my first OC in a published fic! (I have another in a WIP). Thank you to @danglesnipecelly​​ and @itsbadgerbadgermushroom​ for their encouragement in trying this 😘 and also tagging @texanstarslove​ and @broadstbroskis​ for just genuinely being sweethearts 💚

~~~

The Dating World hadn’t exactly been an easy ride for Sofia. No matter where she met guys – whether it was through dating apps, blind date recommendations from mutual friends, or even that cute guy she met at the coffee shop – every single one had turned out to be no good. They were all wrong for so many reasons, whether that was a playboy with multiple girls on the go, a guy who was only actually after sex, someone that was so self-centered that she barely got a word in edgeways, or there was simply no spark.

And it wasn’t like she didn’t want these dates to work – Sofia loved love. Her parents had met in high school and had been together happily in love ever since. Sure, she knew that was rare, but to her they were absolute couple goals. All she wanted was to love someone and be loved in return, just like her parents loved each other. Was that really so much to ask for?

Sofia certainly didn’t think so.

Another Friday night alone rolled around, and the only thing Sofia wanted was to get a pint of ice-cream and watch some sappy movies. Maybe while giving herself a pedicure and wearing a facemask. Who didn’t love a pamper night? So with her wavy brown hair piled on top of her head, blue eyes scrubbed free of make-up, and wearing her glasses instead of her usual contact lenses, Sofia headed out for her ice-cream. There were a fair few people in the grocery store when she arrived including one guy by the ice-cream freezer. Huh, a very cute guy. Luckily she was still wearing a bra. No, not the time. She was here for ice-cream, and ice-cream only.

As she walked up to him though, Sofia noticed that he seemed to be desperately looking for something – a specific flavour? – but with no luck. Yep, there was the desperate whimper of frustration. Time to step in; this was her territory.

“You okay there bud?” Sofia asked, frowning.

The guy flinched slightly but turned to face her with a frustrated expression. Oh wow he was beautiful – square jaw, gorgeous brown eyes, big broad shoulders, thick arms…and those curls! Wait, no, focus.

“No, I’m not. I just moved here for work and everything is shit and I just wanted my favourite flavour ice-cream but they don’t have it and I just…ugh!”

The guy trailed off, running a shaky hand through his messy curls. Oh wow, she hadn’t been expecting that. Nevertheless…

“Sorry, you didn’t need to know all that. It’s just been a really bad week,” he grimaced, trying to force a smile.

Poor guy. Well, she could definitely relate to comfort eating after a bad week, that was for sure. So Sofia smiled kindly back, shaking her head. “Please don’t apologise! We all have shitty weeks,”

The guy laughed, but it still sounded a little broken. Time to step up her game.

“Maybe I can suggest an alternative? I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a regular at this particular freezer,” she said, wearing a hopeful smile.

This seemed to crack a genuine smile. “Sure, be my guest,” he nodded, “I’m Tyson, by the way,”

Well it was a start. “I’m Sofia. Nice to meet you!”

Tyson smiled shyly at her, seeming a little hesitant.

Sofia dramatically rolled her head from side to side, stretched her arms over her head and bounced a few times on the spot as if warming up, earning an outright giggle from Tyson, making her grin at him. Much better.

“Okay, cherry vanilla sweetheart is okay, banana toffee treat is a weirdly interesting combination, I’m a huge fan of the fudgy chocolate brownie, and the caramel swirl is to die for. But my absolute favourite is the peanut butter chocolate heaven. If you like Reese’s chocolate, then you’ll love this one,” she listed, pointing to the different shelves.

What? Sofia took her ice-cream seriously – there was nothing wrong with that.

Tyson looked a little stunned, but that quickly turned into a brilliant smile, making Sofia’s breath catch in her throat. “The peanut butter chocolate one sounds pretty good actually. Exactly what I need,”

“Happy to help,” Sofia shrugged, trying to play it cool as she passed him a carton of it, as well as grabbing one for herself.

“Hey, um….”

Sofia looked up at Tyson as he trailed off, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. What?

“This is a kinda weird to ask, and I swear I’m not a creep, but I’m new in town and I really don’t know the best places in town to get ice-cream from so-”

“Would you like my number?” Sofia asked, trying not to giggle at his rambling, “for ice-cream related emergencies?”

Tyson’s smile seemed to dim slightly, but he nodded so Sofia figured that was what he wanted to ask her. That was what he wanted, right?

“Yeah, exactly,” he murmured, “I could really use a friend,”

Sofia hoped her smile hadn’t dimmed as well when she passed her phone to him. Friend. Why did that feel weird?

When he passed her phone back with his saved number in it, Sofia sent him a quick message of ‘Hey, it’s Sofia :)’, earning a smile from him as his phone lit up.

“I’ll see you again soon, ice-cream friend?” he asked, voice full of hope.

She couldn’t help but to giggle, nodding her agreement. “Yeah I’d like that Tyson,” she said, smiling at him.

If he wanted friendship, then she could and would give it to him.

*

The friendship that blossomed between Tyson and Sofia was genuine and sweet. He’d texted her the next morning, just a picture of the empty carton and a thumbs up – and she laughed as she sent back the exact same thing. And from there they were texting pretty much every day, Sofia getting to know exactly how sweet and kind and caring Tyson was. They started hanging out in person too, coffee runs and lunches and late-night dinners, to the point where they had a standing movie night (with ice-cream!) every Friday when Tyson didn’t have a game – and hadn’t that been a surprise, finding out that he played in the NHL. He had admitted that ice-cream wasn’t even remotely in his diet plan at all, but Sofia obviously wasn’t going to tell anyone – and besides, Tyson deserved a cheat treat every now and again, especially with how hard he was working and playing.

Over less than two months, Tyson quickly became one of her best friends. He was just so easy to talk to, and he knew exactly how to make her smile when she was having a bad day – not to mention how amazing his hugs were. And she knew that she was a huge support for him in his new city. She always answered the phone while he was on roadtrips so he could hear a friendly voice, never judging for anything. Sofia knew that she gave him a break from the intensity of his hockey life. She just…liked him, okay? He was such a good person, and really quite her ideal guy – but he only wanted and needed a friend, so that’s what she was determined to be for him. He deserved that much at least.

A few more months passed into their friendship, and it was a week into the New Year where their Fridays lined up perfectly, so Sofia was on her way over to Tyson’s with a couple of bottles of decent white wine. He was supplying the ice-cream this time, but damn it she needed the wine too. Yesterday night she went on her third date with a cute guy she’d been really hopeful about, but, well…

“He said what?” Tyson gasped, his jaw dropping.

“That he wanted to fool around before we went any further, and if I didn’t want to then he couldn’t see a future for us,” Sofia groaned.

“Please tell me you kicked his ass to the curb,” Tyson scowled.

“You’re damn right I did,” Sofia grumbled, taking a big gulp of her wine.

Tyson took a big gulp of wine in solidarity, staring at her with his big brown eyes wide with disbelief. But then Sofia couldn’t help but sigh.

“Why do my dates always end up going so badly? Is there something wrong with me?” Sofia asked, pouting.

Was there? Had she been the problem all along? But Tyson immediately shook his head.

“No, absolutely not,” he said firmly

As much as the conviction in his words made her heart skip a beat, she sighed again.

“Tyson…”

“Nope, I won’t have you talk about yourself like that,” Tyson interrupted, frowning at her, “These guys you try to date are the problem, not you. Ethan…Easton…Evan…whatever his name was, you are worth so much more than that. You’re kind, funny, smart, caring and beautiful, and any guy would be lucky to have you in their life,”

Any guy, huh? Sofia felt tears spring to her blue eyes, so she quickly wiped them away, but not before Tyson saw.

“Hey, c’mere,” he murmured, beckoning her towards him.

Sofia shuffled down the sofa willingly, curling into Tyson’s side and slumping her head against his chest. She immediately relaxed as his arm wound around her waist.

“It’s okay to be a romantic, yeah? It’s not a bad thing that you want to genuinely fall in love. I know I do,” Tyson said softly.

Of course he wanted to fall in love as well. Of course.

“Thanks Tys. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life,” Sofia sighed, squeezing his hand where it rested on her hip.

Tyson just hummed his agreement, pressing a kiss to her wavy hair, making Sofia smile sadly. Of all the guys she couldn’t have, why did Tyson have to be one of them? She couldn’t see Tyson’s sad smile in return though.

“Ice-cream and 10 Things I Hate About You?” Tyson asked.

“Yes please, I need Heath Ledger in my life,” Sofia nodded, sniffing as she sat upright.

Tyson laughed, wiping her cheeks dry of the tears she didn’t know had fallen. “There, still beautiful,”

Why did he have to make things so difficult?

*

Love was a funny thing. It could be fleeting, passing like a ship in the night, or even all-consuming, like a wildfire with no hope until it burned out on its own. The more time that Sofia spent with Tyson, the harder she fell for him, and the harder it was for her to pretend that she was okay just being friends. No matter how many first dates she went on, how many guys she hoped to move on from him with, nothing worked. The very first moment they’d met when she’d gone out of her way to make him laugh as she recommended him ice-cream, she knew she was done for. But how could she tell him how she felt? He’d literally asked for her phone number to be his new friend in a new city, nothing more. And there was no way she was ruining the incredible friendship that they’d built between them, not a chance. There was no way she could feel anything but empty if he was no longer in her life, and she couldn’t risk losing him. She wouldn’t.

But she didn’t know what to do.

What Sofia didn’t know was that Tyson felt exactly the same. The moment he’d met her, he was gone. She was beautiful – that much was obvious as soon as he saw her – sparkling blue eyes, that amazing wavy brown hair he always wanted to run his fingers through, and the warmest most genuine smile he’d ever seen. But it was her heart that dazzled him on that first night – instead of walking away from his crazy mid-breakdown frantic self, she’d offered to help him and made him laugh. She’d gone above and beyond to make him feel better, and he’d never met anyone like her before. Like an idiot though, he’d completely messed up asking her out on a date, and instead she’d given him her number to be his friend in this new city. Only his friend.

Hell, he knew she wasn’t interested in him romantically – she went on enough dates to show him that he didn’t stand a chance. How could he? He knew he was nowhere near good enough for her as a life partner. Even though he’d told Nate (wonderful oblivious emotionally-useless Nate) how hopeless he felt in their weekly phonecalls, Nate kept telling him to take a chance on Sofia, that Sofia would feel the same as him, Tyson knew Nate was wrong. But there was no way he could give up having her in his life, no matter how much it hurt him to be second to those stupid guys she dated. So he did his best to be the absolute best friend she could possibly need, no matter how hard it was.

Tyson only wished she could see him as more.

*

“Oh god, why did I drink so much?” Sofia groaned.

Tyson giggled as she slumped against his front door as he closed it, just about able to kick her heels off her feet. “I told you not to do shots with the Swedes, but you didn’t listen,”

Sofia whined, not wanting to admit that he was right. Even though he was right. Tyson smiled fondly at her, shaking his head as he kicked off his own shoes.

“I just wanted your teammates to like me,” she grumbled.

“They already do, sweetheart. They love you as much as I do,”

Tyson froze at the words that spilled from his lips, his heart skipping a beat at the smile that spread across her lips.

“Sweetheart?” Sofia grinned.

Tyson let out a shaky breath. The deep blush that spread across his face made Sofia laugh, a little giddiness rushing through her body along with the alcohol.

“Let’s get you some water,” Tyson grumbled.

Sofia just laughed again, skipping along behind him to the kitchen. It had been a last minute invite to drinks with his team this Friday night (she’d initially hoped to save the Friday night for a second date with a guy from Hinge that she had been hopeful about, but their first date on Tuesday had been so dry and dull), but Sofia had still had a brilliant time. She knew that Tyson knew that she had been disappointed with her date this week, so it had been really sweet of him to invite her out to cheer her up. And he’d even called her sweetheart! A girl could dream, right? Tyson kept his back to her as he reached for a glass in the cupboard and pulled out a jug of filtered water from the fridge, but Sofia just hopped up on the island counter to watch him, happily swinging her legs.

She’d had a great evening with one of her favourite people and now she was still hanging out with him – what more could she want?

“Here, why don’t you drink this while I get you something comfy to wear?” Tyson murmured, breaking her out of her thoughts as he pressed the cold glass of water into her hand.

“Thanks Tys,” she said, smiling, “you’re the best,”

He smiled shyly at her, still blushing slightly, before he left the room to get her some clothes. Sofia sipped on the water as she waited to Tyson to return, still swinging her legs with a smile on her face. She knew she probably shouldn’t have had so many shots tonight, but it had just been such a fun atmosphere. Sofia definitely wasn’t the only one drinking that much (at least, she wasn’t the guy that had to be carried out to an uber) – and she knew that Tyson was watching out for her, so she knew she was able to relax and just have fun. He made her feel safe, that she could just be herself without worrying, and tonight at the bar she’d had an amazing time.

The hangover tomorrow would be worth it.

“Okay, some comfy shorts and a tshirt for you,” Tyson announced, walking back in the room, dressed in sweatpants and an old tshirt now instead of his nice shirt and jeans.

“Ooh gimme,” Sofia grinned, hopping off the counter.

Tyson smiled fondly at her, taking the glass from her hand in exchange for the clothing. Then she frowned at him, earning a frown back. “What’s wrong?”

“The zipper on this dress always sticks and all the vodka will not help – will you unzip me?” Sofia asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Something inside her was telling her that this was a stupid idea, such a stupid thing to ask, but the remaining alcohol coursing through her veins drowned that out. But when Tyson just stood there in silence, his mouth slightly open and his eyes glazed, she felt a niggle of doubt start to creep in. What was she doing, asking him to unzip her? Stupid.

“Forget it, I’ll just stay in this dress,” Sofia mumbled.

“No!”

Sofia flinched at his shout, making him wince.

“I’ll unzip you, it’s fine,” Tyson insisted, “turn around?”

Sofia nodded, biting her lip as soon as her back was facing him, swallowing heavily as she heard him take a shaky breath. She jumped slightly as his fingers brushed the top of her spine, unable to stop her heart beating faster as he slowly unzipped her dress. What had she been thinking, asking him to unzip her? Now she’d never forget the feeling of him standing so close, the touch of his fingers on the small of her back, no matter that she was still a little tipsy.

“There, all done,” Tyson said, voice a little shaky, “I’ll go put a movie on, yeah?”

Sofia just nodded, watching in silence as he walked away. Damn it. She took a deep breath, letting her dress drop to the floor with her eyes briefly closed, before shaking herself out of it and quickly unhooking her bra, dropping that to the floor too. Once she’d pulled on his clothes over her panties (even his laundry detergent smelled amazing), she dumped her discarded clothes onto the kitchen counter and headed into the living room to join him. He’d turned off all but one floor lamp, leaving the room with a low glow, nice and cosy. Tyson looked up at her with a smile, settling her nerves. Whatever, it had just been a weird moment, that was all.

“Pretty Woman?” he suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” she nodded.

He lifted his arm, making her grin and sit down, snuggling into his side, kicking her legs up next to his on the ottoman.

“Comfy?” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Yeah, press play,” she nodded, settling into his hold.

~

It can’t have been more than 30 minutes before Sofia felt a little heavier in his arms, so Tyson looked down – sure enough, Sofia was fast asleep in his arms. He swallowed heavily as he watched her peaceful face, mind flashing back to the kitchen moment earlier. Unzipping her dress had felt so intimate, especially when his fingers touched the small of her back, and now she was lying in his arms? How was his heart supposed to cope with this? This was everything he wanted…and it wasn’t real. It wasn’t going to last. But…surely it wasn’t a bad thing if he just let her continue sleeping? She looked so sweet, so cosy, and he didn’t want to disturb her. So instead, he just switched the movie off, tossing the remote onto the coffee table before snagging the blanket off the back of the sofa and gently throwing it over the two of them. Their legs were already kicked up on the ottoman after all; he could sleep like this. Luckily she’d already been wearing her glasses tonight rather than her contacts, so at least he didn’t have to worry about waking her up to take them out – he just gently pulled them off her face and tossed them to the other end of the sofa. No point in waking her up. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, relaxing back into the cushions, and closed his eyes.

He could pretend for one night, right?

~

Sofia blinked her eyes open slowly, groaning as she (blurrily) saw that it was 5am from the clock on the wall. They hadn’t even turned off the floor lamp…but the tv was off and there was a blanket over her. Over them. And Tyson had even taken off her glasses for her. Oh wow. She’d fallen asleep on Tyson, and he hadn’t moved her? She lifted her head from Tyson’s chest, looking at his sleeping face with a soft smile. He was so handsome, wasn’t he? Her heart ached a little at the gentle expression on his face, soft and kind even in sleep. Wow. And it was so nice being held in his arms, the two of them having shifted a little to curl around each other in their sleep, her arm over his waist with both of his around her. She could stay like this for a little longer, right? He was so warm, and it just felt so right…

She could pretend for one night, right?

*

The next few weeks following the sofa-sleepover weren’t quite as smooth and easy as Sofia had hoped. It’s not that it was particularly awkward, oh no, and there definitely wasn’t a bad vibe between her and Tyson…it was just different. Something felt different between them – she didn’t know if it was because she knew what it felt like to sleep wrapped up in his arms, or the fact that he had demonstrated (even more so than usual) just how kind and caring he truly was, but it was something. And she knew Tyson was the same, because every now and again he would get a strange expression on his face before he shook it off and carried on as usual with a smile.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, and it was frustrating as hell. It was almost like being in limbo, that weird stage that wasn’t quite friendship anymore, but definitely wasn’t anything more. And Sofia was getting so tired of it. She knew she was going to have to tell him sooner rather than later – things were too off for her not to. Because at this rate, she was just going to make herself devastatingly miserable, and she had more respect for herself than that. She wasn’t a fool, and she wasn’t going to start acting like one now.

It was going to have to be all or nothing. But damn if that wasn’t the scariest thing Sofia had ever felt. And she had put it off every time she’d seen him since that night, unable to speak the words that would change everything. It was just so hard, faced with the potential of losing him for good. She hadn’t even been on any dates at all over the past few weeks, unable to even think of anyone that wasn’t him, which was so outside of her usual self that even her colleagues had noticed.

Speaking of…

Tonight she was out at a bar with some of her friends from work. It wasn’t a big weekend booze-up, just a casual couple of drinks after work mid-week – Sofia was only planning on having a couple of glasses of wine as she was heading out to dinner with Tyson afterwards. All she knew was that he had a phone call scheduled for something to do with his work, so they’d decided to meet at the bar first before heading out for food. Sofia was all glammed up though, contact lenses in and blue eyes surrounded by a subtle smoky-eye, with a cute new little black lace dress hugging her curves. She’d gotten ready in the bathrooms at work with a couple of the other ladies she worked with (they were staying out for drinks after she left) so at least she wasn’t the only one. She felt beautiful, the confidence shining through in her smile, and she knew she’d turned heads as she walked into the bar with her colleagues.

Maybe tonight was the night. Hah. Maybe not.

“And another glass of Sauvignon Blanc for you, Sofia!”

Sofia smiled as her friend passed her the new wine glass, nodding her head in thanks. She needed to stay out of her thoughts, wary of being lost in them, especially as she was seeing Tyson tonight. Clear, focused and confident. That’s what she needed to be. Not pining and mopey. No, that wasn’t good at all.

“Oh, hey, isn’t that your boy?”

Your boy. Hah. If only.

She spun around to where her colleague was indicating, unable to stop the smile that spread over her lips as she saw Tyson. Waving to get his attention, Tyson did a dorky wave back before he walked over.

“Hey, sorry I’m a little late. You look amazing,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

She blushed slightly as she hugged him back, squeezing his waist even with her wine in her hand, before letting go.

“Thank you, you’re too sweet! And it’s really not a problem. I did just get a new glass of wine though,” she said, lifting it in indication.

Tyson laughed, shrugging. “I’ll get myself a beer too then, and we can head out after?”

“Sounds good to me!” she grinned.

Tyson grinned back, walking over to the bar in question. Sofia turned back to her colleagues, several of whom were grinning widely at her, but she just rolled her eyes, shaking her head and earning a few pouts.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” she warned.

A couple of them held up their hands in surrender, making her laugh, but another frowned over at something over Sofia’s shoulder.

“Maybe you should say something,” her friend said, jutting her chin in the direction of the bar.

Sofia turned around again, to see what the hell her friend was talking about, before she froze, her breath catching in her throat. Tyson was at the bar…talking with a pretty blonde woman. That, that didn’t mean anything, right? It wasn’t like they were…oh, there it was, the woman brushed her hand up against Tyson’s arm, giggling at something Tyson said while he smiled down at her. Of course a beautiful woman was flirting with him, and why wouldn’t he flirt back? It wasn’t like he had anything or anyone tying him down. It wasn’t like she had any claim to him herself. It wasn’t like Sofia had ever told him how she felt.

And now she was paying for it. Was she really too late? After all this time? Feeling her smile slip, Sofia turned her back on Tyson, forcing her smile back on her face for her colleagues, who were all just staring at her in pity.

“Please don’t,” she begged, taking a deep breath, “clearly I lost my chance,”

“He’s already walking back over, that was just flirting!” one of the girls insisted.

But Sofia just shook her head, taking a big gulp of wine. She was going to need it. That woman was beautiful, blonde and buxom just like every hockey WAG stereotype. And she was definitely not – so maybe this wake-up call was what she needed. No matter how much it hurt.

“Hey, sorry I took so long, service was slow,” Tyson said, apologising as he slipped back in next to her.

Lie. But it was okay, it wasn’t like she wasn’t aware.

“No worries. Cheers!” Sofia said, raising her glass.

Tyson frowned slightly at the fakeness of her smile, but lifted his pint glass to clink with hers anyway. Sofia just took another big gulp of wine.

After that, as hard as she tried, she couldn’t break herself out of that edge of sadness. The evening was tinged with it now, like an ice grip over her heart. Seeing him flirting with that woman was the kick up the ass that she needed – there was a reason that she and Tyson were just friends.

But even though she tried to keep up a happy façade, she knew that Tyson saw through it, even when they’d left and were eating in the restaurant he wanted to try. He would pause every now and again, a little confused expression on his face, which only broke Sofia’s heart a little more. He knew her so well, but he still didn’t know this. And now she didn’t even know if it was worth saying anything – she looked nothing like the woman he’d been flirting with, so what was the point?

Soon enough, their dinner was over (not that Sofia could say what she’d eaten or what they’d talked about, only that neither of them drank anything alcoholic), and Tyson was driving them home.

Oh, he was driving them to his apartment. Not what she’d expected, but she would roll with it. Nothing they hadn’t done several dozen times before. She could hold herself together a little longer.

“So, the food there was really nice. I’ll have to recommend it to some of the guys,” Tyson said, smiling as he unlocked the door.

“Definitely!” she nodded, shutting the door behind them, “although I’m pretty sure none of them will be going for dessert like we did,”

Tyson made a shushing noise, pressing her finger dramatically to his lips, making her laugh as they walked into the kitchen, sitting down on the stools at his kitchen island. Her laugh trailed off slightly as her heart clenched again, realising how comfortable and how right this felt between them. Why couldn’t this be easy? Why couldn’t things just be easy for her for once?

“Hey, what’s going on?”

She looked over to Tyson as his soft question brought her out of her thoughts.

“What do you mean?” she asked, forcing a smile onto her lips.

“There,” he frowned, “That. That fake smile, you’ve been doing it all night,”

Ouch.

“Have not,” she muttered.

“Yes, you have! You were fine when I first met you but as soon as I came back with a drink, something had changed. What’s wrong?”

Why did he have to be so perceptive? He was a hockey player for fuck’s sake. Why did he have to notice this now?

“It’s nothing Tys. I’m fine,” she said firmly.

Tyson rolled his eyes, making her purse her lips together. “I can tell when you’re lying, Sof. You’re clearly not fine. What happened? Was it something I said?”

“No, it wasn’t something you said,” she said sharply.

“Then what’s wrong? Because it’s clearly something!” he asked, his voice raising louder in frustration.

Ugh, for fuck’s sake.

“Why can’t you just drop it?” she snapped.

“Why won’t you just tell me?” he shot back.

Sofia groaned, throwing her head back. “Maybe it’s personal and maybe I don’t want to tell you,”

“What did I do to make you not trust me? We tell each other everything and now there’s something you can’t say? Won’t say? What the hell Sof-”

“I like you!”

Oh god.

Oh no.

As Sofia tried to breathe, there was one thing she noticed more than anything. Tyson was frozen, his mouth open in shock – and he hadn’t said a word. Sofia laughed at his silence, a little wet with imminent tears, a lot broken, and shook her head. What was a little more heartbreak, right? It’s not like she could take it back now.

“No, you know what? I’m pretty sure I love you. But that doesn’t matter, right? Because you haven’t said a damn thing a-and I knew this was going to be the reaction you gave me, which is exactly why I haven’t said anything before. So now you know – I have feelings for you, and…and you clearly don’t have feelings for me. I think I’m just going to go,”

She still hesitated though, as she pulled her phone out to order an uber. 2 minutes away. But Tyson opened and closed his mouth, eyes frantic but voice silent. And that was all she needed to know. Uber booked. Goodbye Tyson. Sofia left his apartment with a heavy heart, slamming the door closed behind her, tears prickling at her eyes as she ran to the elevator, but she pressed her lips together in an attempt to control herself. She’d told him how she felt, and he hadn’t returned her feelings. She’d put herself out there, all for nothing. And that’s all there is to it.

She could wait until she was home to cry.

If nothing else, she was lucky enough that by the time she reached the bottom of his apartment building, her uber had arrived, so she hurried in quietly, resting her head against the window. The driver seemed to realise that she wasn’t in the mood to chat and just put on some soft music, making her heart clench even more as her mind replayed the last 10 minutes.

She’d finally told Tyson how she felt.

Tyson hadn’t said anything.

Nothing at all.

And he definitely hadn’t tried to stop her leaving.

What more of an answer did she need?

*

Sofia woke up with a heavy heart, feeling like every part of her body was aching. She felt empty, completely drained, just as she feared she would if...no, when she lost Tyson. There was no going back now. There was nothing else she could do. Her friendship with Tyson was over, and fuck that hurt so much. He was such a big part of her life…what was she supposed to do without him?

She barely managed to shuffle from her bed to her kitchen before she started crying, hands shaky as she made her morning coffee. This was her own fault, she knew that. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. So she just let the tears fall, the pain of her heart breaking flooding through her body. It couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes until she finished her coffee, but it felt like hours, her head throbbing and her eyes stinging, her cheeks tacky with tears. She couldn’t carry on like this. She couldn’t waste her day, her life, like this. What was the point in that?

Sofia hated feeling pathetic, feeling weak, especially over a guy (even if that guy was Tyson), so she took a deep breath, wiping her cheeks dry with her fingers. “No more. Suck it up,” she muttered to herself.

Her breath shook as she left her coffee mug in the sink for later, her hands still shaking a little too, but she stood a little taller, trying to convince herself that everything was going to be okay. Because it had to be okay. It had to. There wasn’t any other option.

But as she went to walk towards the bathroom to take a shower, the door buzzer rang. What the hell?

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,”

Holy shit. Oh god. Tyson?!

“What are you doing here?” she asked shakily, her voice cracking.

“Please will you just buzz me up?”

Oh god. Should she? She couldn’t just leave him outside, right? This couldn’t be happening. What the hell was he doing here, after last night?

“Please Sof? We need to talk,”

Well, fuck.

She bit her lip, before pressing the buzzer, allowing the building’s front door to open. She knew she had less than minute before he would climb all the stairs and knock on her front door, so she quickly ran to her bedroom, scrubbing her face with a make-up wipe and running a brush through her hair. That was better than nothing. She whipped off her ratty old pyjamas and quickly pulled on some clean panties, some sweatpants and a baggy sweater, at least making herself look casual rather than like a slob.

Then she heard three knocks on the door. Damn it.

Sofia quickly shoved her glasses on her face, taking one last glance at herself in the mirror before walking as calmly as she could to open the front door. Sure enough, Tyson was standing there, looking the most nervous she’d ever seen him. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one feeling affected.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

She just nodded, letting him walk past her before shutting the door behind him. Sofia bit her bottom lip, wringing her hands together, before she took a deep breath. This was her home. She was in control here.

“So, you didn’t answer my question,” she said simply, “what are you doing here?”

Tyson let out a whoosh of breath, running a hand through his messy curls. He looked…well, he looked exhausted, if nothing else. Like he’d barely slept. Much like her. Wow. What was he…

“I came here to apologise, Sofia,” he finally admitted.

“Apologise? For what?” she asked, forcing a smile.

“Stop. Please stop,” Tyson said, his eyes full of sadness as he stared her down, “you know you don’t have to pretend with me,”

Well, fuck.

“What do you want me to say, Tys? I’m trying to patch together a broken heart here,” she said, her smile now wobbly. Damn it. She wasn’t going to cry again. She wasn’t!

“But I don’t want you to patch up a broken heart!” he blurted.

Sofia’s breath caught in her throat, her mouth going dry. What was he saying?

Tyson swallowed heavily, looking down at the ground before looking back at her, his eyes shiny but steady.

“You make me a fool, Sofia,” Tyson murmured, “every time I think I’ve got my head on straight, you spin me around. I always feel like such an idiot around you, always messing up. Just like last night, when I just froze up like a fucking statue instead of telling you how I feel. The thought of you not being in my life, even just overnight, is too much to bear. I can’t be without you,”

What?

He…what?

Tyson saw her hesitation, but didn’t dare stop talking now that he’d started. And Sofia couldn’t find any words to say at all. So Tyson licked his bottom lip nervously, before taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“I should never have let you walk out of my front door last night. I should never have let you go without telling you that I love you too,”

Sofia whimpered, hand flying up to cover her mouth as tears filled her eyes. He loves her too? He…loves her? Tyson bit his bottom lip, stepping forward to rest his hands on her shoulders, desperate for the contact.

“Please tell me you still love me? Even though I acted like a fool? Even though I hurt you?” he said softly.

She immediately nodded, tears finally trickling down her cheeks. “Of course I still love you. These feelings aren’t just going to disappear overnight,”

Tyson smiled, his eyes a little watery too, but he leant down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, making Sofia whimper again before slumping into his arms. He slid his hands from her shoulders to wrap his arms fully around her, her hands rising up his back to clutch at his t-shirt.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” Tyson whispered.

“It’s okay,” Sofia said, her voice muffled into his chest.

“No, it isn’t. You weren’t okay last night and I pushed you and pushed you, and then acted like a complete asshole,” Tyson muttered.

“You weren’t an asshole! I…I was so sad last night, before we left the bar for dinner. It killed me to see you flirting with her, that beautiful blonde woman while you ordered your drink,”

There. There it was.

But Tyson just huffed a laugh.

“That was nothing. She meant nothing. And now you know how I feel every time you went out on a date with one of those stupid guys,” Tyson mused, “you go out on so many dates!”

Sofia blushed slightly, thunking her head down on Tyson’s collarbone, making him laugh.

“I haven’t been out on any dates at all since we fell asleep on the sofa,” she grumbled.

“Yeah,” Tyson said, his voice much more serious now, “I noticed that. And it gave me hope,”

“Hope?” she asked softly, looking up at him.

“Hope that maybe it wasn’t just me that had feelings,” he explained, smiling.

Sofia smiled shyly back at him, before biting her bottom lip. Tyson noticed her hesitation, and unwrapped his arms from her, leaving one hand linked with hers. Sofia blushed slightly at the contact, as silly and simple as it was, making Tyson smile again.

“C’mon,” he urged, tugging her towards him lightly.

She followed Tyson through her own apartment until they reached the sofa in the living room, the two of them sitting down next to each other. Her heart beat a little faster as he turned to face her properly, but she tucked up her legs to face him too, her knees brushing his thighs. This felt different. This felt so different.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey,” she laughed.

Sofia looked down at where there hands were still joined, Tyson just running his thumb over her knuckles in response. Why were they being so weird about this? No, she needed to know what he wanted. It couldn’t be any worse than last night, that was certain. She could do this.

“So what do you want here, Tys?” she asked softly.

Tyson smiled. She was so much braver than him, twice now. “I want to call you mine, Sofia. And I want you to call me yours,”

Sofia’s breath caught in her throat, but her lips spread into a brilliant smile. Yes. That was…that was everything she wanted. And he was just offering it to her on a silver platter? Really? Well, she wasn’t turning this done, no way in hell.

“I think I could get used to calling you my boyfriend,” she said, not hiding an ounce of her happiness.

Boyfriend. Wow.

Tyson’s smile spread into a grin, the giddiness spreading through his face, making her laugh. “I can’t wait to tell Nate that you’re finally my girlfriend,”

Sofia snorted. Of course Nate would come first before his family. “Is there going to be an I-told-you-so in there?” she mused. She wouldn’t put it past Nate to do so.

“Oh yeah he’s never going to let me live this down,” Tyson nodded, “especially with how I treated you last night,”

Hey, no.

“Water under the bridge, Tys. We’re sorted now, right?” she said firmly.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Tyson grinned, giving her hand a squeeze.

He was finally hers. And she was finally his. Fuck that felt so good.

“There is one thing though,” Tyson said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Oh yeah?” she said, frowning.

What?

“Can I kiss you?” he asked shyly.

Her frown melted into a smile, earning a smile back. Instead of answering, Sofia leant her head up, Tyson meeting her in the middle to press their lips together in a gentle kiss. Oh wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. She pulled away with her lips tingling, Tyson looking just as dazed as her.

“Kiss me again?” Sofia asked breathlessly.

Tyson grinned.

#my writing #tyson barrie #tyson barrie fic #meet cute to just friends to lovers #all the pining you could ever want #tyson barrie x reader #tyson barrie imagine #tyson barrie fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl imagine

[pearl-blue-musings]

Hi!! Can I order spaghetti (msby) with mashed potatoes and green beans split between me and atsumu?

YES AHHHHH thank you for giving me my first haikyuu ask!!!! This was so much fun to write and think about!

ALSO I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE MANY MANY APOLOGIES 

A/n: I wrote this with some ideas I got from @cestcirque and her smau (which you absolutely must check out!) for this soulmate au, when you look into the eyes of your soulmate your world changes from black and whites to bursting with color. This is also post time skip so Atsumu is a wonderful black jackal

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x photographer!fem!reader

once again I got carried away what else did you expect from me

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy calling, biting, slight edging, oral (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration, relatively tame!

Enjoy your meal

~~~~~~~~

With sweat dripping down his face, Miya Atsumu was bursting with energy. It was down to the final point of the match and he was itching to win. It’s already been over a month since Hinata joined MSBY and their chemistry on the court has been proven a formidable force. First against the Adlers, and now with his former high school teammates team, EJP. His eyes are alight with a fire and desire to win. He can feel the rush of winning cloud over him as he keeps his eye on his teammates, setting the ball perfectly to the man everyone describes as an orange haired ball of sunshine in order to score the final set point. The yell of victory leaves his throat before he can process everything. His eyes scans the crowd of fans that have come to watch him, being excited but also a pang of emptiness hits him.

If only he could see the colors everyone talks about around him. 

Everything is greyscale for the man, who he’s been told has a strange yellow hue to his hair. Atsumu didn’t know what the color would look like but liked how it would be marked as different and easy to see when you get to see color. He resents the fact that his twin Osamu laughs freely at his hair color. The normal haired twin, to him, had met his soulmate in one of his business classes and demanded a facetime with his twin. Atsumu was angry at first, but on the inside was happy his brother had met his soulmate and his life bursting with color. 

Surely, he’d meet his soon right?

Atsumu is pulled from his thoughts when Bokuto wraps his arm around his shoulder to pull him into a hug and briefly chat.

“Hey hey hey! Why didn’t you set it to me at the end, huh? You can’t keep giving Hinata all the glory!”

“They were expectin’ ya. I couldn’t Bo. ‘Sides, we won that’s all that matters.”

The flash of cameras after games were very common. With different sports magazines and editors showing up to cover the game, it was something the team was used to. As per usual, a camera-person came up to him and Bokuto, completely ignoring who was taking the picture focusing on the lens. Once his eyes meet the lens, he puts on his signature smile and puts a thumbs up with his teammate for the photo op.

It had all happened so fast. 

You had been called to fill in at the last minute to take photos for the MSBY Black Jackals volleyball game. You didn’t think anything of it other than doing a favor for a friend. And this was an incredible opportunity for you, an amazing way to expand your sprouting portfolio. In this world of soulmates you live in, it was unheard of. Your pictures and photos always came out with the utmost care and perfection, despite not being able to see any of the colors to truly work the right lighting and angles. Even though touching and editing required the use of being able to see colors, somehow your eyes went beyond that and captured everything in a natural way that everyone could understand the message and point of all your photos.  

It was absolutely exquisite and breathtaking.

You had never been to a volleyball game before and you were hit with how exciting it was. The energy from the players and the fast fed into your blood as you began and continued to capture pictures of the game. It wasn’t just a regular game, it was an experience and you figured it was different for everyone. And as you felt that, you knew you wanted to capture it.

It was in moments like these you envied those around you who were able to see color. You yearned for the day you would be able to see all the colors that your peers and employers have paraded you for. Hopefully when you finally meet the one, you’ll be able to do your job even better. 

Before you knew it, the game had ended and you were doing what all the other photographers were doing by taking pictures of the tired and sweaty players as they interact with each other and their fans. You slowly walk toward the court, fixing and switching your lenses for up close pictures. You happen to place your camera right at your eye, seeing two players not looking your way yet as they were engaged in their own private conversation. Once you get their attention, you make eye contact with both before snapping the picture.

You had almost dropped your camera, lucky for the strap around your neck holding it together. You don’t even check your camera, knowing the picture came out horrible. But as you hold the black camera in your hands with your jaw slack-

Wait, black? That’s right it’s black.

And one of the two players in front of you had a matched expression on his face.

Atsumu should have asked his brother what it would be like when he meets his soulmate in order to prepare himself. He’s seriously kicking himself now as the bright white lights bounce of the beige and tan floor of the wooden court. He looks down to see his black and white jersey, the streaks of red and green on certain parts of the floor, the blues, yellows, and whites of the volleyball...

And the all encasing beauty that was you. 

Everything about you was stunning, he wasn’t sure where to look next. However his thoughts were interrupted by a boisterous yell next to him.

“Hey ‘Tsumu! Why’d you stop?”

The blond haired man turns to his friend and gives him a new look over. “Did ya know yer hair is two diff’rent colors?”

Bokuto freezes and attempts to look up at his hair and smiles widely. “Yeah! Yukie keeps it nice for me and- No way! Where are they?”

The owl like man quickly shakes his head back and forth throughout the crowd looking for his teammates soulmate is! He’s interrupted with a tap on the shoulder from the man in question.

Atsumu points to where you’re still starstruck, taking in everything around you.

“Her.”

You felt as if time had lost all meaning as the colors all around you began to come to life, being as lively and vibrant as everyone above you had described. You had zero expectations of ever meeting your soulmate, let alone at a randomly assigned job. You’re unaware of what your body is doing, but your feet are moving across the plane as you walk closer to the man who’s staring at you in a way you’d always hoped to be gazed at.

He’s taller than you thought he’d be up close, but you can smell his musk and sweat and you’re not turned off like you’d always been. The way his bright yellow hair matches his personality, from what you’ve seen, on the court makes your heart melt. It’s almost like everything about him is perfect. The way his eyes are tired but full of vitality isn’t lost on you, and he seems to see the same thing in yours. 

Atsumu for once is at a loss for words. There’s so many ways he had pictured this going but surely not like this. He opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes catch a gathering crowd. 

“Aw, shoot. There’s for sure gonna be a crowd comin’. Meet me after by the exit? I promise I’ll make it quick...”

“(Y-y/n).”

He chuckles and places one hand on his hip and the other in his hair. “Heh, cute name for a cutie like ya self. Name’s Atsumu. Wait for me will ya?”

You merely nod and watch him smirk at you before he meets up with his teammates to celebrate their win. You’re left standing there trying to process what just happened as he turns around one more time to wink at you. If you could melt, you would. You gather your yourself, pick up your camera and try to stealthily avoid any reporters and the like. Since this was your first volleyball match, you had no idea the power just being in the presence of Miya Atsumu held.

Fan girls and other photographers began to swarm you as you attempted to blend in the crowd. All these women had beautiful hair, beautiful complexions; you couldn’t wait to start taking photos in color. Not the right thought to have as you’re getting bombarded but what can you do?

Luckily you’re swept away by another photographer who saw your pain and helped you out. You thanked her and followed her to where the media had access. She wished you luck as she led you to where Atsumu wanted you to meet him.

About 30 minutes later, he comes out with a few of his teammates, laughing gleefully and somehow that made your heart flutter. How did you get paired up with a man like this? The soulmate gods must have really been looking out for you.

Once his beautiful deep eyes meet yours, his gaze softens as he walks toward you. His teammates tell him goodbye and that they’ll message him later. As he approaches you, he has to pinch himself to realize that this is real and it’s happening to him.

He speaks up first again, eager to hear your voice again. “Hiya.”

You giggle at his intro. To him, it sounded like heaven opened up and the angels were singing all around him. He gets to have this laugh to himself? Call himself blessed. 

“I never thought I’d actually meet ma soulmate. And yet, here ya are.”

He extends his hand out to you and you take it, noticing how warm and calloused it is against yours. There’s no way life could be this perfect. You rub your thumb on the back of his palm and stare into his eyes.

“Here we are.”

************

You’d think you’d be used to hosting events for his teammates at your shared place after almost a couple years of being together. but something always surprises you. This time, it turned out fate was working in mysterious ways today. On the way to your place, Hinata had met his soulmate and brought them to the gathering! Needless to say they were overwhelmed but in a good way. Sakusa was slightly concerned over the presence of someone new whom he didn’t know very well, but tolerated it for his friend’s happiness.

You’ve just finished washing the dishes as Atsumu dries whatever is left. You wipe your brow and sigh heavily. Your boyfriend looks over to you and smirks. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout baby?”

You smirk at him before leaning your head on his shoulder, “just, life I guess.”

The young man sighs contentedly, places the dried dishes in the rack, and kisses your forehead. “Care to elaborate? Or am I gonna have to tickle the info outta ya?”

You hear the smirk in his tone as he wraps his arms around your waist, pinching and tickling your sides. Your laugh bubbles in the air as you squeal and squirm against Atsumu’s grip. His tout body keeps you against him, holding you tight so you can’t escape his embrace. “’Tsumu! I give, I give!”

“Nuh uh babycakes,” he growls in your ear, “I’m not done with ya.”

You laugh harder as you feel him lift you off the ground, turn you around, and sit you on the counter. With his hands firmly on your waist, he surprises you with a small yet passionate kiss on the lips. Your hands fall onto his neck and face to pull him closer to you. 

You pull away and notice him bite his lip. “What was that for?” You don’t miss the way his eyes glaze over as you question him. 

“I just love ya so much. I never thought life would be s’ fulfilling once I got some color into it. Thought it was all mumbo jumbo, whatever.” He places his body in between your legs, letting your breaths intermingle. “Ya love my team, my friends, my family, and most importantly,” he trails off brushing your noses together. 

“Ya love me.” 

“You’re such a sap.”

“Hah?! But that’s why ya love me, right?”

You keep teasing him as you continue to touch along his broad shoulders. “Nah, I’m mostly in it for the money.” You peck his nose and grin at his pouting features.

“Aw c’mon (Y/n)! Yer making almost as much as me with all yer photos,” he argues back, missing your teasing tone. You can’t help but laugh at the pout your soulmate is giving you. It’s almost too easy to fake argue with him to get him riled up. 

You lay your head on his shoulder and can’t hold back your laughs. “Baby,” you coo, “you know I’m teasing you right?”

Since you can’t see his face, you don’t see the ever growing smirk as he nods into you. The blond tightens his grip on your hips, pulling you into his crotch so your neck is free for him to attack with his lips. He starts to kiss and suck lightly on your open neck, catching you off guard.

“Oh I know baby,” he lightly grinds his clothed erection against you, “I was just messin’ with ya.”

You lift your head in fake anger, but it dissolves when the lust in his eyes matches yours. He steals your lips before you could protest or bite back a response. The burning desire within you begins to rise as you feel his cock against your core, causing you to moan lowly into his mouth. 

“Mmm, feel my cock baby? Feels good, yeah? Been wantin to touch ya all evenin’.” He then brings your legs to wrap around his waist and continues to kiss you seductively. You feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip before entering your mouth. His deep groan into went straight to your core and you move your hips into him. Atsumu lifts an eyebrow before pulling away, loving the connection of saliva between your lips. 

“I can already feel how wet ya are fer me, baby. Ya really want daddy that bad, huh?”

You can’t help but shiver at his voice when he says daddy to you and wiggle your hips, knowing what you’re in for. A whine leaves your lips as you pull him into your chest to feel him against you and so you can whisper in his ear how much you want him, your daddy.

Atsumu bites his lip and rolls his hips into yours at hearing and feeling your breath on his ear. He then promptly lifts you up, rest thing his lips to yours as his hands grope and fondle your ass. You can’t help but shift around as he carries you to your shared bedroom, seeking friction in any capacity. Atsumu chuckles darkly feeling you struggle against him, breaking the kiss to suck on your neck. If there was something he loved more than volleyball or you, it was leaving marks and traces of him all over you. Satisfied with the mark he left he growls out,

“I can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy you, princess.”

With that, you’re dropped onto the bed, awaiting orders from your love. His whole aura switched from teasing and playful in the kitchen to a sexual dom and you were living for it. 

“Take off yer shirt off, I wanna see all of ya.”

You lick your lips and nod, slowly removing your shirt and making a show of it. You don’t miss the way he bites his lip and whispers out a low “fuck” as you undress. You leave your bra on knowing that’s one of Atsumu’s favorite things to take off of you. You place your hands on the hem of your leggings and look to him, as if to ask him if it’s okay. He nods and you slowly remove them from your body, leaving you in your bra and thong ready for him on the bed.

The tall blond stalks toward the bed and situates himself in-between your legs. He brings his lips to your inner thigh, his brown eyes on you to watch for your reactions. His lips trail up the sensitive skin, kissing and biting as he gets closer to your awaiting heat. But he doesn’t give you what you want, not yet. He hears you whine as he moves to your other thigh and repeats the same actions. He can feel the heat your pussy is emanating, already seeing your juices leak out.

You whimper out, “fuck, please just do it!”

He sniffs, enjoying your smell as he slowly pushes your thong to the side. “Please what baby? Ya gotta use yer words.”

You hips roll as his fingertips graze over where you want him the most. You hate his teasing nature, but you love the reward you get after. “P-please just put your tongue in me!”

Atsumu snickers before enticingly putting his tongue into your slit, making you gasp out and grab at his hair. He hums happily as he laps at you greedily. His tongue swirls inside of you in the best way. Your hips move off the mattress as your voice lets curses and whines escape. 

“Nuh uh baby girl. Ya gotta stay still fer daddy.” At that you feel a weight on your pelvis, realizing its his arm to hold you steady. With you unable to move, the need for release bubbles faster. Your breathing gets deeper and your voice rises an octave. Atsumu was always a king with his tongue, and for some reason tonight he was pulling out all the stops. Once you think you can catch your breath, he sucks hard on your clit and inserts a finger into you.

“Haah, fuck daddy!”

He laughs into your cunt and you moan at the vibrations. His tongue directly on your clit is making you see stars. He slyly inserts a second finger, already feeling you clench and tighten around him. That won’t do. He can’t have you cumming on just his fingers, but he does need to prep you. Before putting a third finger in, he sucks on your swollen nub to have you screaming in pleasure. His fingers scissor and stretch you out and it takes everything in him to not add a fourth. He knows you two haven’t discussed it so he knew to table it for another time.

“Shit, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum. Please daddy can I cum?”

That makes him take his eyes off his fingers and to look at you directly and ceases his actions. He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and crawls on top of you. “Suck,” he commands and you do as you’re told. You’re a little miffed at not being able to cum as your pussy clenches at nothing while you suck his fingers. You know you’re doing a good job when you hear him groan and lose eye contact with you. You get into the valleys of his fingers and he moans, “yeah ya like daddy’s fingers? I know ya do. Now kiss me.”

He tilts your head up and you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself again but on his lips. You feel him align his warm dick with your slick entrance and whine into the kiss. You break away from the kiss to tap his shoulder. 

“Wait ‘Tsumu,” you pant, “condom?”

He stops everything before frantically reaching for the nightstand. Atsumu knows he can get carried away when he’s in the moment, so he knows that when he gets tapped on the shoulder he’s forgotten something or needs to slow down. 

“Ah sorry, baby.” His voice sinks as he sucks his teeth feeling the rubber cover his dick. “Are we okay ta keep goin’?” 

You smile and nod at him, placing your hands on his chest in reassurance. He meets your smile and kisses your lips softly. “You ready ta take daddy’s hard cock?”

“Fuck,” you moan, “just fuck me already-Ah!”

He didn’t need anymore goading as he slides himself inside you. Your walls tighten around him and he has to control himself from wanting to pound into you. He waits for you to adjust to him before he pulls out almost all the way before your hips meet again.

“Ya feel so good, princess. Ya like the way daddy fucks ya?”

You nod aimlessly. “Yes! Please, I want more!”

His smile is evil as he grabs one of your legs and hoists it on his shoulder. “Be careful what ya wish fer,” he growls before snapping his hips forward. The two of you whine and moan together, unable to hear the sound of your juices and his hips squelching. “Aw fuck, baby ya feel too good.” He’s got one hand on your leg to hold it against his chest and the other rests lazily on your hip. He continues to fuck you into the mattress, your hands holding onto the head board behind you. Atsumu catches this and is displeased. He abruptly stops and places your leg down and around his waist, doing the same to your other leg, You look at him confused, “why, what are you doing?”

“I didn’t like the way you were grabbin’ the headboard, so you’re gonna grab onta me.”

With that he keeps pounding into you, now with your arms around his back. He’s never admitted it, but he loves the way you scratch and grip at his back when you two have sex. It drives him wild. “That’s it, baby. Hold on ta daddy as he fucks ya.”

Your garble out something as you hold him harder, realizing a free hand had escaped your upper body and has snaked its way to your clit. He begins to rub small and fast circles on the swollen nub, grinning at your reactions. He’s never sure which part he loves best: the way your voice gets incredibly lewd or how tight you get around him. This time he thinks it’s both. He continues to rub at your clit vigorously while pounding you all the same.

Sweat clings to each of your bodies as the rush of release is evident. Your eyebrows are scrunched tightly as you feel your orgasm coming. With a shaky breath you whimper, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Please lemme cum daddy. I’ve been so good!” 

His hips rut into you as he chases his own release. “Yeah ya have. Been such a good girl fer me. Fuck baby ya feel amazin’! I’m gonna cum so hard. Cum with me baby girl.” His body moves faster the closer he gets to climax. Your legs are shaking and your toes curled as you feel the coil within you come undone.

You scream out, “I’m cumming baby, I’m cum-ah fuck!”

You tighten around him, causing him to curse and whine as he loses his rhythm. “Shit baby girl, I hnng,” he feels the condom fill with his seed as he humps the both of you through your orgasms. His grip on you loosens as he comes down from his high, rubbing them with comfort. He stays on top of you but not pressing down into you. The afterglow the two of you bask in is always something he looks forward to. His breathing returns to normal after a couple minutes of the two of you just laying with each other. 

“Fuck ‘Tsumu,” you croak out, “that was s-so good. Could you pull out?”

Atsumu lazily nods and slowly pulls out of you, not wanting to cause you any pain. Once he’s out, he gets off the bed and takes off the condom, tying it up and placing it in the trash can. He returns to the bed to place a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “You were so good ta me. Lemme grab us some water and towels, yeah? Do ya want a shower or a bath?”

You groan and roll to your side. “Some water.”

“Baby, I know, but a bath or shower?”

“I can barely move, Atsumu, what do you think?”

He chuckles before leaving the room and announcing, “I’ll get tha bath started.” He’s gone for a few minutes, but returns with two water bottles and a towel as you hear the bathtub being filled with water. He sits down next to you and places the bottles down. He opens one and hands it to you. You thank him and drink down about half of the bottle. He drinks from his own and uses his empty hand to trace the curve of your face. 

“Hey (Y/n)”

You lift your eyebrow at him, giving him your attention.

“Ya know I love ya, right?”

You hum and nod, sitting up to wrap your arms around his shoulders and give his cheek a kiss. “I love you so much, Atsumu. No one is gonna break our bond okay? We’re soulmates.”

He takes one of your hands into his gently, leaning into your touch. “I know I’m not here a lot cause of volleyball. But I do love ya. Yer my baby girl.”

You chuckle lightly and kiss his cheek again. “Sap.”

“Ya know ya love it. Now let’s go take a bath, yeah?”

~~~~~~~~

The diner is closed

#the diner #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x female reader #miya atsumu x reader #msby atsumu #msby x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x black reader #atsumu x female reader #my writing #i did the thing

[3pirouette]

Fic: Fighting Doesn't Make You a Hero (2/?)

Title: Fighting Doesn't Make You a Hero

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: StuntCoordinator!Steve meets Actress!Peggy, who is an absolute menace when it comes to stunts.

Chapter Summary: Steve falls hard for Peggy (figuratively) while Peggy falls hard (literally).

A/N: Here’s some more of the story I tried so hard to write last year when I put this little AU out. Also, this is the “more” that I think only one person actually asked for. Hope you like it, anyway. I’ve always loved this idea, the rest of the story has just alluded me until now. For Steggy Week ’21 Day 3: Favorite AU.

Apparently, there will be more of this, because my brain has FINALLY figured out how this is supposed to go, and it’s not just one chapter’s worth. Sheesh.

Also, if it is not clear (it should be…) I know nothing about stunts or stage fighting. Completely made up. Please enjoy.

~*~

Chapter 2: Thrust and Parry

It was hard to be nice to her when he was waiting for the next injury to occur. He was professional, clear, and concise. They rehearsed for hours straight on Wednesday for a long, single shot of her moving through a room full of stunt men for one of the climatic battles.

Though no one got seriously hurt, there were a few bumps and bruises that shouldn’t have happened.

It was hard not to be harsh with her, not to be demanding. He could see moments of beauty in how she moved, but then she’d go too far and make contact. He had to find a way of breaking her of it, if not for his own safety, for that of the stuntmen around him.

~*~

It was an early call for the shot they’d spent the entire previous day rehearsing. He was bleary and chugging coffee as quick as he could stomach it. Peggy was already on her way out of hair and make-up as he passed the trailer. She gave him a shy half smile as she passed him, being ushered from one trailer to the next to be slid into her ridiculously tight costume.

On one hand, he got it. He couldn’t deny that she looked absolutely gorgeous in that costume. (How long he’d spent thinking last night about her in that costume and what she might be able to do with that Lasso of Truth absolutely was not relevant…) But from a practical standpoint the costume wasn’t realistic at all, and she wobbled horribly on the stilettos. They had to stop rolling often to keep her taped into the thing.

The stuntmen around him were warming up, and he even heard a few near him joking about wearing cups. He gave them a sharp look, waiting until everyone was quiet before he reviewed timing and patterns while they waited for her to come out to set.

The director wasted no time once Peggy was on set. They made minor adjustments to the cameras and rolled on the first run through. He was proud as he watched them all, every move was timed right and it looked fantastic. He waited, with a smile, for the director to give his notes.

There wasn’t much for his team, but the director took Peggy aside and gave her quite notes and reset the scene quickly. He shot it over and over, from new angles and with different lenses, and by the time it was over, there were three black eyes and a cracked camera lens.

Peggy’s assistant ushered her off set as soon as they cut the last take, the star unable to look him in the eyes as she walked past.

~*~

The director decided, after a short break, he wanted another go at the capturing the pattern. Steve reluctantly went off in search of Peggy, hoping to figure out where she’d gone wrong that morning. He couldn’t find her in her trailer, and her assistant only pointed vaguely towards the parking lot.

He found her in a far hidden corner of the lot, sitting on the edge of a flower pot, crying. He was startled by a side of her he wasn’t prepared to see. He thought maybe he’d be coming out here to find her sneaking a smoke or a flask of rum. He’d heard she was dangerous, a bitch, a tough broad who didn’t care about the stunt men that she hurt. This didn’t really fit with all the stories he’d heard. “Peggy?”

She moved to wipe away her tears, manicured fingers moving swiftly and carefully around the fake lashes and caked on make-up. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right there. He wants another take, right?”

Steve crouched down next to her. “Are you… are you ok?”

She laughed, watery and weary. “Oh, good lord, no, but I’ll be there in a minute.” She waved her hand at him. “I’ll have to stop in make-up first.”

Steve stood hesitantly, astonished at how she pulled herself together so quickly. “Is there… is there anything I can do?”

She looked up at him, taking a deep breath. “I don’t mean to hurt anyone, I promise. I mean, I know I have a reputation, but… I’m not an action hero. I’ve never been physical. I’m not good at it.” She shook her head. “I’m a Shakespearean actress.” She stood, wiping at her mouth and pacing. “Give me Ophelia or Bianca or Beatrice. Hell, even give me a sword fight. I can fence, you know. But one time I get a tiny part in an action film and all of a sudden, I’m being type cast as some action hero and no one ever even taught me how to do any of this!” She was pacing quickly now, the rant spilling from her lips like a waterfall of words she couldn’t stop if she tried, her weariness evident with each syllable. “Not once was I instructed on the how, just, ‘punch here’ and ‘kick there.’ And it was fun so I kept doing it. I thought it was worth it, you know? But I should be saying no. The sane thing to do would be to say no to all of this but I mean, who says no to Wonder Woman?!” Peggy stopped, her face morphing as she realized all she’d said, her hands coving her mouth for a moment before she forced herself back into a stoic, hard shell. Her chin wobbled, betraying her hidden emotion as she pushed past him towards the make-up trailer. “Just know I don’t mean it. And I’m sorry.”

He watched her move away, stunned in her wake. He didn’t quite know what to do with that information, but he was quickly starting to feel a soft spot for her forming. He moved quickly back to set, relaying that she would be there soon and watching the team of stuntmen around him stretch to perform the scene once more.

She was back on set, looking fresh and happy, in just minutes. He ran them through the pattern again, and watched closer this time.

Once he’s shed himself of expectations, it was easy to see that she really didn’t have any idea what she was doing. She was a natural mover, to the point where he figured she was probably a good dancer, and that went a long way to hiding the technical flaws. But she was jerky when she tried to pull her punches and she wobbled off balance when she held back power in her kicks. She misjudged force when blocking constantly, and it put her on her heels, literally.

She was on her back in a blink when she shouldn’t be, coughing and sputtering. She had the air torn from her lungs with the impact, and everyone froze in place.

Steve bounded over, pushing through his stunt team to kneel by her side. Her eyes were closed, pressed tight. “Peggy, are you ok?” She was gasping, trying to get the rhythm of breathing back. “Slow in through your nose, slow out through your mouth, ok?”

He lifted her hand in his as she nodded, sputtering once more before slowly getting a deep breath in, and then another. He squeezed her hand tight. “Good, good.” He smiled when she blinked her eyes open, her breath starting to come back. “Better?”

She nodded, but he could see the frustration and fear in her eyes, welling tears following quickly.

“Let’s get her checked out,” the director called. “We got what we needed anyway.”

Peggy tried to sit her up, but Steve pushed her back down. “Wait until the medic gets here, ok?”

“I’m fine,” she argued, having tamed the tears quickly.

“Be that as it may,” he smiled, whispering, “You know what the protocol is.”

It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was the closest he saw to one today as her hand held tight to his. “Fine. Just this once.”

He moved away mindlessly when the medic came in and started talking to her, checking for a concussion or cervical injury, eyes still on her face.

Forget about the Lasso of Truth, her smile would be what was haunting his dreams tonight.

~*~

He met her in the rehearsal gym, bright and early the next day. He was on the floor, warming up, when she came in, hair pulled back messily and no make-up on, thermos of coffee in her hands. She was pretty much the exact opposite of the made-up, costumed bombshell from yesterday, but he was no less enthralled with her.

He couldn’t help it: he smiled.

Her smile back was half hidden behind another sip of coffee. “Good morning,” she said softly in her lilting English accent that she covered up for her movie appearances.

“Morning,” he stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit of a headache,” she replied, setting her coffee down and pulling off her jacket. “Are the rest of the team coming?”

Steve hung his head, bashful. “Uh, no. I had them stay last night and run through tomorrow’s scene with your double.”

“Oh.” Peggy froze, the word slipping out softly. She started putting her jacket back on, trying to hide her disappointment. “I didn’t get the message. I thought I was doing the scene.”

“You are!” Steve corrected quickly, holding his hand out. “I just thought…” He sniffed and cleared his throat, trying to sound as professional as he could. “After I found you yesterday, I watched you do the scene again. I mean, really watched you. And you’re right. You’re missing a lot of the basics.”

Peggy wrapped her jacket back around her, crossing her arms. “Yes, well, like I said—”

“You weren’t taught,” he supplied quickly and gently, eyes kind and open. He shrugged and tried to smile. “I thought we could spend some time on that this morning. You already know the scene, so if we go back in and fill in some of those blanks you have…” He trailed off, hoping she’d understand.

She licked her lip slowly, thinking. “And you told the other stuntmen to stay home because…”

He wasn’t sure what she thought he was going to say, but he could imagine how some of his collogues might have treated her and couldn’t say that he almost expected her surprise. “I don’t want you to feel like they were watching you, or judging you. It’s not your fault no one taught you this, or that whoever you’ve worked with before didn’t take the time to make sure you were doing it right.”

She bent, grabbing her coffee to try to hide the shock he saw. She took a long swing and then nodded, pulling her jacket off again. “Alright then.”

He waved his hand, signaling her to follow him to the middle of the cushioned floor.

She was a quick study, and he’d been right as she eventually reveled somewhere in their discussions of balance and force, that she’d been a dancer before she became an actress.

“ACL surgery,” she replied, pulling up the leg of her legging and showing him the scar on her knee that he was sure must have been covered by make-up every other time he’d seen her. “Retore after the first surgery, and I never danced the same after.”

The melancholy that had started to disappear as they’d been going through their first few lessons returned, and Steve swore he’d do anything to see a smile on her face again. After a moment, he pulled up the sleeve on his t-shirt and showed her the crisscrossing pattern on his shoulder. “Cool scar, but I think this one wins.”

“Ohhh,” Peggy reached out, her fingertips lightly brushing over the flattened lines. “What happened?”

“IED just outside of Fallujah. Caught our caravan off guard.” He turned, pulling the shirt back more to show her the back of the shoulder. “Two bullets, six pieces of shrapnel, three torn tendons and almost a year of physical therapy.”

She let her hand run down his arm in a gentle way that made his heart pound. “Is that why you got out?”

He shrugged, stepping away and pulling his sleeve down. “It’s why they wouldn’t let me back in, so yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Do you miss it?” Peggy asked, truly interested.

He paused. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever asked him that before. He must have been quiet long enough that she took his lack of an answer as not wanting to answer, because she started rambling, stepping over to get more coffee.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I only asked because,” she paused to sip, taking a deep breath. “Well, because I didn’t really get to choose to stop dancing, my body chose for me. And as much as I love this…” she paused, her voice growing quieter as she looked down at her coffee, “sometimes I miss it.”

Steve softly stepped towards her. “This can be a lot like dancing, you know.” He held out his hand.

Peggy set her coffee down and took it, a smile on her face. “Really?”

He nodded, giving her a gentle pull that pulled her towards his body. “Think of it less like moves and add beats to it.” He started counting softly in fours, walking them through the pattern they’d just practiced: step forward, step back, parry, swing and miss, swing and block, swing, connect, turn under and sweep the leg.

Peggy laughed with delight as they stopped, standing. “That was… so much easier!”

Steve couldn’t help but smile back, she looked like an excited child on Christmas morning and he wanted more of that. “See? I told you. You just needed to understand it a little more. To figure out how to make it make sense to you.”

She bounced on the balls of her feet, excited. “Can we try the second pass?”

He nodded, stepping in front of her. He started counting again as she squeaked with happiness behind him. Push, pull, drop, jump, punch, punch… they moved through with the fluidity he knew she possessed but had somehow never understood or tapped into before. He smiled at her as they finished the set: her wrists in his hands, held over her head as they stood face to face.

They both smiled, but didn’t move. Steve could feel his heart pounding, and if the look on her face was any indication, the moment wasn’t one sided.

But he was here professionally, and it did no good to lean in and kiss her breathless like he wanted. He started to pull away quickly, but Peggy grabbed his hands, keeping him close. “Thank you,” she whispered, eyes shining with an emotion he didn’t want to think too hard about.

He didn’t understand. “For what?”

“For this.” She shrugged, twining her fingers with his. “For not just believing I’m a dangerous bitch who doesn’t care who she hurts. For taking the time to actually teach me,” she smiled, “and get to know me.”

It was still between them, and he could tell what they both wanted, but he couldn’t give in. Not while they were in the middle of the movie and he knew she’d still need so much more help if she was going to make it to the end of all of the complicated fight scenes and wire work. Instead, he redirected, smiling wide. “Don’t thank me yet. We’ve got to do all that again, but this time, in the heels.”

Peggy frowned, but didn’t let go of his hands. “Bloody hell, I hate those fucking things.”

#steggyweek21 #Steggy Fic #3P's Fic

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You  Chapter 1 ~Sparks Will Fly~

Notes

Hey guys, I'm back with a Christmas Ficlet, "All I Want For Christmas Is You," starring our favourite couple, Jamie and Claire.

It won't be my usual long story, but it's my wee gift to my readership who'd been following my journey in writing and always encouraging me with their insightful comments and kudos. 

Please don't be disheartened when I don't always reply back to your comments, as I spend every spare time I have writing. When I'm not writing, I'm dealing with this thing called life and taking care of my loves. But I promise you, I always look forward to reading your feedback, and if you have any questions of any sorts, I will answer them. If you see any mistakes or you wish to impart something I'm doing wrong or give me some ideas, please bear in mind I welcome constructive criticism, and I welcome opinions. I would even thank you for it, and I promise you I won't take it personally. The reason I say this is because I wholeheartedly wish to improve my writing and what a better way when my readers can share their thoughts with me. 

Without further ado, I wish you all happy reading.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

James Fraser stepped into the pub followed by his older brother Willie. Although it was still early evening, there was already a small crowd all hyped up into a party mode. The multiple flat TV screens on the walls were showing world championship darts without the sounds. Instead, the speakers blared with Wham's Last Christmas song with the random interference from the resident DJ. While a handful of men milled around the bar holding their pints, the women sat at the table chattering animatedly and sipping long drinks and port. With Christmas Eve only two days away, there was a sense of excitement and goodwill in the air, typical of the festive season.

"Check out those birds at three o'clock."

Jamie cocked his head at Willie's words.

Two wide-eyed bonnie lassies stood next to the pool table sipping cocktails as if awaiting their turn for a game. Living in a tight community where everyone knew everybody and their business, Jamie immediately discerned the girls were visitors.

Willie unzipped his jacket. "I saw blondie first."

Jamie followed his brother's line of sight, but his eyes darted back to the dark-haired lass with the palest skin he'd ever seen, her tresses done up in a messy bun. Her long legs, accentuated by tight black jeans, grabbed his complete attention. She had a cropped red cable-knit sweater on and boots caked with mud which meant she must have been watching the shinty game earlier along with the rest of the village folks.

"Bloody hell, look at her," Willie murmured.

Blondie wore a purple turtle neck top that showed off her nice breasts, and jeans that hugged her hips snuggly. Jamie grinned. "Och, ye like 'em curvy, but I like her mate more. Shall we talk to them?"

"Aye, let's do that before one of those lads get there first." 

Jamie made a move forward.

"Hang on a minute," Willie's hand slapped across Jamie's chest, stopping him mid-saunter. "Yer ex ... she's back here for the holidays. She's sat at the bar with her mates. Are ye sure ye're ready for this?"

"Aye, aye. It's been over between us for ages," Jamie replied, not taking his eyes off the dark-haired lass. He hadn't thought about his ex for a long time and whatever he thought he'd felt for her back then, was nothing but a distant memory.

"This is just a bit of fun, alright? Dinnae get to attached. Blondie and her mate are probably tourists."

Willie had seen him go through hell over a year ago with his ex, who he thought had been the one for him. She had turned his life upside down, affecting his job, and his ability to stay sober after she'd cheated on him. Once Jamie got his act together, he'd sworn off serious relationships and decided to concentrate on work.

"Fun. Fun sounds good," Jamie muttered. When Willie didn't release him, he looked at his brother square in the eyes. "How about ye?"

"What about me?"

"Ye haven't chatted up a lass in a very long time. Are ye sure you still know how to?" Jamie asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Willie shoved his shoulder and feigned offence. "Ye cheeky git! Cannae chat any lass up when I know everyone here, now, can I?" 

Jamie nodded toward the two girls. "Weel, what are we waiting for?" He took a deep breath and kinked his head sideways to the left and then to the right. "If we're just gonnae stand here like a couple of numpties and discuss, we'd be too late by the time we get there."

"Mmm, never seen ye this eager to meet a lass before," Willie grinned.

Jamie looked back at the women and noticed they were beginning to garner attention from the lads nearby. The dark-haired one made a move around the pool table followed by her mate, and he was powerless to stop his gaze wandering down to the gentle curve of her arse.

Willie straightened his posture. "Let's go," he exhaled as he made a move.

Jamie followed suit and lined up next to his brother. As they got closer, he watched as the dark-haired lass skirted past a group of pool players with a polite smile, then wrote her initials in chalk on a blackboard mounted to the wall, claiming the next game. CB, she scrawled.

She wrinkled her nose and laughed at something her friend said as she started moving towards the bar. Jamie's frown deepened when the lass didn't see the sports bag put into her path. A few steps more, and she would trip and fall flat on her face. But not if he could help it.

"Hey!" Jamie shouted, abandoning Willie's side. "Hey, ye!"

She took another step, looking over her shoulder to acknowledge what her friend was shouting at her.

"Ah, fuck!" Jamie gritted his teeth and hurried towards her in quick long strides. He had no choice but to jostle a couple of bodies out of his way as she showed no signs of hearing him. He caught her as her foot connected with the bulky bag, his arms sliding under hers and pulling her up.

Her forehead bounced off his chin. "Oh, Lordy, Lordy." She let out a lungful of air and dug her fingernails into his forearms, her breath on his neck feeling like a double shot of heat warming his insides. "I'm such a clumsy oaf."

"Hey mate, shoved that bag under the table will ye, before someone breaks their neck," Jamie shouted over the top of her head at the owner of the bag, his voice sounding a tad harsh. With her front plastered against him, Jamie could almost feel her shock subside, giving way to the vibration of her laughter. Still holding her close, he puffed out a sigh and whispered into her ears. "Next time, ye should look at where ye're going. Ye could have landed on yer face, and that wouldn't have been a pretty sight."

Still laughing, her shoulders shook, presumably finding the situation hilarious. "We left our Airbnb earlier in a hurry, and my contact lenses are at the bottom of my suitcase. I'm farsighted, you see, but I'm too vain to wear my specs."

"Enough to fall flat on yer face? "

A few heartbeats passed. "If I say yes, are you going to start yelling again?"

"Aye."

"Alright then ...no."

Realising he still held the lass in a firm grip, Jamie let her go slowly to reassure himself she was steady on her feet. She kept her head down as she took a step back to rummage through the handbag slung on her shoulder. When she got hold of what she was looking for, she put on a pair of specs and blinked up at him through round, black-rimmed eyeglasses. As their eyes met, he felt something crank in his chest. He must still be wound up from the shinty game earlier because, on a sucked-in breath, an uneven sound passed through his mouth. A Dhia. She had the most beautiful amber eyes, and they reminded him of the colour of the finest heavily peated single malt whisky, Islay had to offer. 

"Oooh!" she whispered. 

Aye, tell me about it. "What's yer name?"

"You're one of the shinty players from earlier."

"Uh-huh." He tamped down the urge to laugh. "Yer name?" he repeated.

If the spellbound look in her eyes meant she was stunned by what she saw, she wasn't the only one. "Oh, yes. Sorry. I'm Claire. Beauchamp. Claire Beauchamp."

"Claire." For some reason, colour bloomed in her face when he said her name. "I'm Jamie Fraser."

"Hi." After a few seconds of just staring at each other, she recovered first and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh, shoot, where are my manners? Thank you. Thank you for saving me from an undignified fall." Her lips twitched, and her eyes twinkled. "If I had died of embarrassment, at least no one would care since nobody knows me here."

"I would care." Someone collided into him from behind, making him close the distance between them and her head tilt back to maintain eye contact. She was a tall lass, but still, he was a head taller than her. "So ... ye're here on holiday?" he asked.

"Yes, I am ...until Boxing Day. And then we're going to Edinburgh for Hogmanay. And then flying back to London on Three Kings from Glasgow." He heard her swallow. "I have a thing for Christmas in Scotland, you see."

"Is that so? What else do ye have a thing for?"

"Probably a lot of other stuff," she whispered, clutching her handbag in front of her. "But I'm having difficulty thinking of them right this minute."

"And why is that?" God, she's breathtakingly beautiful.

"I guess I'm still rattled by that near fall." She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Or have you forgotten all about that already?"

Jamie couldn't stop his grin. "No, not at all." In his periphery, he saw his brother and Claire's friend chatting. He wondered if he could whisk Claire away. This lass is something else. She wasn't staying here for very long, and he wanted to get to know her and make every second count.

He cleared his throat. "Look, Sassenach ..." 

"Sassenach?"

He felt heat glid at the back of his neck. "Sorry ... it's a Gaelic word. It means an outsider or someone from not around here. In case ye misunderstood, it's not my intention to make it sound like ye're not welcome here. Let's just say I meant it as a pet name. Endearment, if ye will."

He regarded her as her eyes searched his face, and she made no effort at all to hide her perusal of his lips. When a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes lit up into a wicked glint, his chest expanded a hundred-fold. "I like the sound of that ...Sassenach," she breathed as she rolled the Gaelic word in her tongue.

"Mmm, so, you're from London, huh?"

She shoved her hands in the back pocket of her jeans and rocked back on her heels. "Yeah. I'm originally from Oxford. But I live and work in London as an editorial assistant for a publishing company. How about you? What do you do, besides playing shinty?"

"I'm a tree surgeon. My brother and I run an arboricultural business."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, wow! I've never met a tree surgeon before. So I guess you must love your job to make it into a business?"

"Aye, I do," he smiled, basking in her open interest in his life. "I love the outdoors and the fresh air, whatever the weather. How about ye? Do ye like yer job?"

She paused and frowned in contemplation. "It's alright," she shrugged. "It's a job that will bring me closer to fulfilling a dream, I guess. I want to be a fulltime writer one day ..."

It was his turn to be surprised. "Maybe ye should move to the countryside if ye want to be a writer. Far too many distractions in London, don't ye think?"

She grinned. "Yeah, I suppose so. But I'm enjoying London at the moment, and I'm not quite ready to give up the city life. Just yet. Maybe one day." She glanced at her watch. "Umm ...you must have somewhere to go."

He wasn't ready to let her walk away, so he forced a worried cast into his face. "Eh, ye look still shaken up. We should probably get ye something stiff to drink ...and my phone number."

Her eyes widened, and after a tense split second, laughter burst out of her lips, loud enough to turn heads in their vicinity. She brought her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle but failed. The sound was so infectious, his own low rumble accompanied it, and he couldn't help but think, there's never been a time he felt such a powerful connection with another person. 

"Actually I'm with my mate here," Claire said finally, jerking a thumb over her shoulder and twisting around to the direction of where her friend stood. "She's my French flatmate. But it looks like she's already found someone to talk to." She paused and squinted her eyes. "Oh ...I recognise that bloke she's with. He played shinty too, didn't he?"

He waved at Willie and signalled him and Claire's friend to come over. "Aye, that's my older brother." 

Claire's gaze shot right back to him. "Really?" With a smile that showed off perfect teeth, she pushed her specs higher on her nose. "I wouldn't have thought. I don't have a sibling, and I just presumed your whole family would have the same gorgeous auburn hair like yours. Well, alright ..." She crimsoned to her hairline as she looked at his approaching brother. "I see some similarities now ...height, broad shoulders and the colour of your eyes."

Jamie felt a pinch of unease. Even though her vivacity was endearing, he wasn't ready to feel drawn to anyone this deeply or to care at such an alarming rate and intensity. After his last relationship broke down, there hadn't been anyone that piqued his interest ...until now. And she would be leaving in a few days. Chatting to her was only meant to be a night of enjoying the company of a beautiful lass or perhaps a diversion in whom he could lose himself into for a short time. But the moment he'd looked into her eyes, warm feelings drove into his heart while burning urges grew low in his tummy. This lass was a breath of fresh air and sexy and exactly what he needed. He mentally shook his head to clear his brain. Looking beyond the top of her head, he blurred the image of seeing this as something more. The long-distance relationship was a no-go. He was a country lad at heart, and she belonged to the city.

"Jamie?" She was staring at him as if he'd lost some of his ability to think clearly.

"I'm sorry ...still listening. It's just that I'm not used to a beautiful lass pointing out my physical attributes," he reassured her with a smile.

That beautiful blush blew across her face again. Jamie found it adorable. How could she be direct and shy at the same time? "I didn't mean to sound so bold. It must have something to do with me living in the city for so long ...you know, us Londoners tend to have no filters."

He winked at her. "Dinnae fash, lass. I kinda like it." And he meant it. 

She was about to respond when Willie and Claire's friend reached them, huge smiles painted across their faces like they'd hit it off.

The blonde girl took a step forward towards Jamie. "Hi! Claire and I enjoyed watching you guys play shinty earlier. I didn't realise it would be so aggressively physical. By the way, I'm Annalise," she smiled warmly, holding out her hand.

Jamie took it. "Aye, that it is and difficult to play when the grounds are too soggy. It could get pretty messy in this dreich weather." He shook her hand. "I'm Jamie ...please to meet ye."

"Likewise," Annalise replied, glancing at her friend.

Willie introduced himself to Claire, then brought his attention to their situation. "Looks like yer glasses are empty, ladies. Can we invite ye both to join us for a drink?"

Jamie saw Annalise elbow Claire with a conspiratorial look. When Claire nodded, Annalise batted her eyes at his brother. "Sure. That would be nice. I'd like a vodka and tonic please."

Willie grinned like he'd just received an early Christmas present and Jamie understood the feeling.

"Sassenach, what would ye like to drink?" 

Before Claire could reply, Hugh, one of the lads in his shinty team, tapped her on the shoulder. "It's ye against me now, lass."

Claire swung around and looked at the cue stick being handed to her, and her eyes lit. Turning back to Jamie, she grinned. "This won't take long, but I'll have a single malt, neat, please." Then she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "This is for good luck."

He froze. It was an innocent kiss, but it packed quite a punch.

"Oh ...and yeah, it's a belated thank you again for breaking my fall," she quickly added, suddenly, appearing unsure like she doubted the gesture.

A slow grin roused to form on his lips. "Ye can thank me by going out with me ...tonight," he said, without thinking.

She blinked.

"I'd like to show ye something."

Her brows wrinkled as she studied his face.

"I'd really like to get to know ye better and take ye out," he said. "Please allow me." If she said no, he was quite certain he was going to beg.

"Alright."

He smiled as relief surged through him. "I'll wait for you until ye finish yer game," he said. "We'll leave after we've had a drink with my brother and yer friend."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere Christmassy."

She gave him a wary look, and he laughed. 

"Listen." He leaned in close. "I'll get yer friend to take a picture of my driving licence if that will make ye feel better."

He was about to pull out his wallet to retrieve it when she stopped him with a wave of a hand. "I trust you."

"That's a good start."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

Slowly backing away from him, she smiled. "Let me play this one game first, and then I'll be with you."

With his heart in his throat, he watched her progress as she walked towards the pool table and swapped a few quick words with her opponent, who seemed to be humouring her. After the lively exchange, Claire pulled up the sleeves of her sweater to her elbow and rubbed her hands together. Before she began chalking the cuestick, she gave him a wink. That mere display made the muscles in his belly clench, literally whooshing the breath out of him. 

A slap on his back tore his gaze away from Claire. "Easy now lad," Willie said in a low, amused voice. "Ye look like ye could use the same drink as her."

Jamie glanced back at the subject of their conversation. "Aye, but make mine a double," he whispered.

"On it," Willie replied, laughing as he walked off.

What the bloody hell? He should be withdrawing himself away from this attraction because this mad instant bond between them was like an overloaded electrical fuse, capable of incinerating him alive. He'd already learnt his lesson from his last relationship. He'd been there and done that, but yet he didn't have the will to stop himself from finding out how their connection would play out.

Oh, Christ, this is bad. So, so bad, I'm in so much big trouble. Taking a huge sigh, he found himself a stool nearest to the pool table and watched Claire steal the show from the best snooker player in Broch Mordha.

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH137 (Extra)

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents ]

-----

Chapter 137: Extra

Introduction to Extra: When a high school student idol girl encounters an exorcist of the Holy See who transferred to her school, the original scientific world seems to suddenly become unscientific...

Beautiful idol girl: A lovely and beautiful girl like me, of course, only likes handsome girls!

Handsome girl: Hmm!

Agent: Excuse me?

　　&&&

Note: This story is an AU (Alternative Universe) story, that is, a parallel universe, not a story within the same timeline as the main text. There is no Nightmare Game in this story. Everyone is living in modern times, including fantastic creatures such as supernatural ghosts, demons, and blood cults, but they are not widely known. The story involves the locations and characters from the Castle Cry copy, but it is different from the story in the text. Please refer to the text.

Genders are different, genders are different, and genders are different (important things are said three times). Because of gender differences and different experiences growing up, the characters are slightly different from the text.

Qi Leren entered the entertainment industry from an early age while attending high school, filming and singing, and was a famous idol and beautiful girl; Ning Zhou is the royal elder sister* mixed-race exorcist who transferred from abroad for some reason.

*{E/N: yujie, like the Japanese onee-sama character type}

　　&&&

The sunshine outside the window was too good, and there wasn’t even a cloud in the blue sky.

Qi Leren looked out of the window with her cheeks propped up, a little absent-minded.

The teacher was giving a lecture on the podium and the students around her were all keeping their heads down and taking notes carefully. Qi Leren’s eyes quietly drifted to the black-haired and blue-eyed student by the window. She sat upright and looked at the teacher on the podium, looking serious and earnest.

Her blue eyes were really beautiful.

Qi Leren's thoughts suddenly returned to the day a month ago.

On that day, she’d flown back to X City overnight the previous night. It was already after midnight when she’d gotten home, so she’d unfortunately overslept the next day and rushed into the lecture building as the school bell rang. Although the school was tolerant of her frequent leave, Qi Leren didn't want to be treated specially because of her idol status, so she would try her best to observe the school rules.

The bell was drawing to a close, and she was still a corridor away from the classroom. Qi Leren ran at the speed of the 800-meter women's champion in the school sports meet. As she ran, she thought she might not be late this time. As a result, at the corner at the end of the corridor, she ran head-on into someone.

"Ow!" The bump was really strong. Qi Leren raised her head angrily, covering her nose, and glared at the person.

The blue-eyed girl who was hit: "...Sorry."

Who is this? I've never seen her before. Is she wearing fashion contact lenses? So tall and beautiful!

Qi Leren stared at the person and for a long time she apologized until the class teacher coughed: "I'm sorry, I ran into you, I'm sorry!"

The class teacher accompanying the blue-eyed girl smiled and said, "Xiao-Qi, what are you hurrying for?"

Qi Leren immediately wore a bitter expression: "...Sorry teacher, I'm late."

"It doesn't matter, you’re busy with your work, the teacher understands it, go back to the classroom quickly," the teacher in charge said, taking the two people with her to the classroom.

Qi Leren walked on the left side of the head teacher and slowed down after two steps. She secretly looked at the girl walking on the right side of the head teacher. She looked only ahead of her, and she could see that her facial features were more three-dimensional than the average person. With those sapphire eyes, Qi Leren boldly guessed that she should be mixed-race.

"Hey hey, I’m Qi Leren, what's your name? Why haven't I seen you before? Did you transfer to this school?" Qi Leren put on her trademark smile photogenic smile and smiled sweetly at her, and spoke without any of her idol baggage.

The blue-eyed girl gave her a look, turned her face quickly, and fell silent.

Qi Leren, who’d failed to strike up a conversation, froze for a second. What? Someone ignored her? This was not scientific!

Qi Leren debuted at the age of seven, playing the sister of the self-improving poor hero in a drama set in the Republic of China. Because the story required crying from beginning to end, crying deeply and emotionally, and because of her lovable role and outstanding acting skills, she played the clever and poor little girl vividly and immediately became the little daughter in the eyes of the aunties and became a national sweetheart.

Since then, Qi Leren, who was still a young girl, relied on her mother's contacts as an actress and her own outstanding acting skills - and probably also her well-proportioned face - and after ten years, her development route had been well planned by the management company. From the age of thirteen, she had changed from the role of poor and lovely sister and daughter to the route of a youth idol and beautiful girl, acting on one hand and singing on the other, busy enough that she needed 48 hours per day. If it wasn't for her mother's insistence that she should continue her studies and at least finish college, she probably wouldn't even have the chance to experience normal school life.

It can be imagined that the campus life of this popular idol, this beautiful girl, was full of stars, yet Qi Leren had never met anyone who was nice to her.

To paraphrase the lines of the hero of her recent idol drama: Very good, woman, you have successfully caught my attention!

"Ning Zhou is a new transfer student. She was in Italy before, and her Chinese isn’t very good. Xiao-Qi, you should help her more and let her integrate into the group as soon as possible," the teacher in charge said.

"Oh, no problem, leave it to me!" Qi Leren smartly saluted the class teacher, which attracted the class teacher's tight smile.

The girl named Ning Zhou unnaturally turned away from her gaze, staying silent as she looked at the distant scenery.

It had been a month, and she was still like this.

Qi Leren, who was pulled away from her memories, sighed softly and looked at Ning Zhou with increasingly melancholy eyes.

Ning Zhou was really beautiful and cold, and she exuded an aura of staying away from strangers. Qi Leren heard that her classmates would also talk about her privately, saying that she wasn’t easy to get along with, and the amount of time she normally took as leave was comparable to Qi Leren.

Hey, why was she so cold? She had spoken up many times explicitly and implicitly, but Ning Zhou always ended the conversation with a "hm" which made the idol girl frustrated. If it weren't for Ning Zhou's eyes that were clear of disgust, she would have almost thought Ning Zhou really hated her.

Qi Leren was resting on her arm and looking sideways at Ning Zhou. The side of her face seemed to be glowing in the warm sunshine. It was really beautiful...

Suddenly Ning Zhou turned to look up, and Qi Leren who was peeking was caught red-handed as their eyes collided in the air... What happened with ordinary people? Were they embarrassed and looked away? Qi Leren didn't. She kept her head pillowed on her arm and smiled generously at Ning Zhou, especially sweetly.

Ning Zhou quickly withdrew her sight, not looking out the window.

In the warm sunshine, her earlobe was red.

Qi Leren blinked and repeatedly confirmed that she was not mistaken.

So, in fact, Ning Zhou wasn’t cold but just shy? Qi Leren was stunned by this idea and screamed in her heart for a long time, Ning Zhou! Lovely! She's shy! Super cute!

Qi Leren's heart was filled with an unprecedented impulse. She should try harder to strike up a conversation with Ning Zhou and make good friends with her! The kind where she could bury herself in her breasts!

When the bell rang, Qi Leren immediately sat up straight, and the students around them stood up and walked around the classroom. Several nice classmates gathered around Qi Leren and chatted with her twitteringly.

"Qi Leren, I heard that you’re going to release a single again. Have you recorded it?"

"When will your new show be released?"

"Qi Leren, help me ask Su Ying for a signature! The news said that you’ll be acting in that show, right!"

"Are XX and XXX really in love? I think it’s all just a rumor!"

All kinds of questions surrounded Qi Leren, these curious baby girls racing against time to inquire about the entertainment industry. Qi Leren patiently answered them one by one, and some inconvenient words had to be vaguely taken out. Fortunately, the girls were just curious, not asking why. Compared with them, it was obvious that the students in other classes and even other grades outside the window gave her a headache. If she wanted to go out to the toilet now, she couldn't do it without two students because she would be overwhelmed by the crowd...

This was also the trouble of being a popular and beautiful idol girl.

Until after school in the afternoon, Qi Leren didn't find a chance to get closer to Ning Zhou. She walked too fast. Qi Leren didn't find a chance to leave school with her, so she had to instead leave the school with several girls. In the afternoon, the driver who was in charge of picking her up asked for leave. She thought about whether to take a taxi home or to walk home. After thinking about it, the school wasn’t far from home anyway. It was currently rush hour, so the road would be too blocked. It was better to walk.

So Qi Leren put on a mask and walked towards home with her school bags.

Since the beginning of primary school, Qi Leren had had only a handful of opportunities to go home by herself. She looked at the cars blocking the street from one end to the other and the motorbikes occupying the sidewalk, gave an annoyed tut, and turned her head and walked into the alley.

Through this alley, one could reach the neighbourhood her house was in. Qi Leren was happily humming the tune of her upcoming single that she would be shooting the music video for tomorrow...

At dusk, the orange-red light fell on the corner of the lane, which shrouded the scenery in a decadent golden splendor. A cold wind blew, and the coolness was a little unsettling. Qi Leren instinctively had a feeling of foreboding. She hesitantly stopped and looked around - the sunset’s sudden dimness was only caused by the shadow of a building, and everything seemed ordinary.

The exit was just ahead. With an uneasiness in her heart, Qi Leren strode forward.

There was a cold wind, and the wind mixed with the foul smell and decay. Qi Leren held her breath and took three steps in two strides, but the accident did not let her go. Just less than ten meters away from the corner, the golden sunset was suddenly swallowed up by a strange darkness, and Qileren stopped suddenly and looked ahead in amazement.

The residential buildings on both sides of the alley echoed with the shrill cries of crows, and the daylight around her suddenly darkened as if she had stepped into an instant night. Qi Leren looked back in panic, but the road that she had originally come from had been submerged in the darkness.

What was happening? Was this some strange joke?

Qi Leren panicked and took out her cellphone to make a call. As soon as she unlocked it, there was no signal at all!

Qi Lered was flustered, using her cellphone to illuminate ahead as she walked faster and faster, but no matter how far she went, there was no end to the road ahead. Only the light of the cellphone illuminated a small section of the concrete ahead, and there was a mottled blood on the ground...

There was a strange movement in the darkness ahead. Qi Leren stopped and looked toward it with bated breath. The flashlight lit up the darkness. In this faint light, there was a rickety and distorted shadow coming towards her, step by step, slowly and heavy, as if a cold corpse had been forcibly fished out of the morgue was posing strangely and stumbling forward.

It entered the range of the flashlight’s beam and Qi Leren breathed in a gasp - Was that alive? The limbs were stiff, the skin was gray, and the eyes were glowing red. It paused for a second, its head lowered, and the red eyes looked straight in Qi Leren’s direction.

The next moment, it opened its closed mouth, showing a whole row of sharp teeth, and growled at her!

Qi Leren gave a cry and ran away. She bet that hadn’t tried so hard when she’d ran 800 meters in the school sports meet, but even still the monster that had suddenly become agile got closer and closer as it chased her, and with a swoop forward it grabbed Qi Leren's calf.

"Ah-" Qi Leren fell to the ground, and the monster opened its mouth and bit her throat.

At this critical juncture, Qi Leren, who had closed her eyes tightly, heard a gunshot, but the expected pain did not come. She opened her eyes carefully. The monster holding her down was covered with frost and the cold seeped into her body. She shivered, struggling out of the monster's hold by rolling and crawling, brushing the dirt off her clothes while looking in all directions for the source of the gunshot.

The darkness around her was fading gradually and the sunset came back from the end of the world, spilling its afterglow on the earth.

And in the direction of the sunset, there was a tall and slender figure with a silver shotgun pistol in her hand, looking at her from a distance.

That figure...

Qi Leren suddenly opened her eyes wide and ran to her without thinking. The girl took a step back and seemed to want to leave, but Qi Leren had already cried her name: "Ning Zhou! Wait!"

Ning Zhou didn't go away after all. Instead, she was pulled by the arm by Qi Leren: "What happened just now? What was that monster?"

"...Low-level magic," Ning Zhou said, and went to the monster who had been shot dead by her gun. She bent over to check it and confirmed that it was dead. Then she took out a bottle of a liquid flashing with silver luster from her bag and dumped it on the body. The body instantly turned into black and dissipated in the air.

Qi Leren was still immersed in the absurdity of the thrilling adventure just now, and her mind was full of strange questions. However, when Ning Zhou was about to leave, she quickly caught up and held onto her: "Don't go, where did that monster come from? Why did it suddenly get dark just now? What’s the silver liquid in your bottle? Corpse water? Who the hell are you? Certainly not an ordinary person?"

Ning Zhou, whose arm was being clung to, looked at the curious girl with a depressed face. At that time, she didn't know what to do. She could tell her, of course, but it would hurt her, involving her in something she couldn’t escape from... What should she do?

"Oh, please talk to me, I'm scared to death, can you walk me back? My house is just a little way away, it’s very close! Just be good enough to walk me there." Seeing that Ningzhou seemed to be shaken, Qi Leren immediately switched to acting mode and watched Ning Zhou, trying to impress this mysterious transfer student with what are known as "puppy eyes".

"...Let's go," Ning Zhou gave in.

Qi Leren silently made a victory gesture in her heart and took Ning Zhou's arm happily and naturally - at that moment, she felt Ning Zhou stiffen: "Thank you for saving me, Ning Zhou, you’re so handsome! I upgrade you to my goddess!"

And then? Then she succeeded in seeing Ning Zhou's ears turn red again.

It's so lovely, Qi Leren chuckled in her heart.

On the way home, Qi Leren played the rare dead-end part of the idol beautiful girl and pulled a lot of information out of Ning Zhou's mouth, which was sparing in words and inaccurate in pronunciation. What had happened just now was she had walked into the Nightmare World at dusk, a projection of the real world that existed in hell. Whenever night fell its power would become strong, and occasionally someone would go into the Nightmare World and be attacked by monsters.

She also learned that Ning Zhou is not from Italy, but from the Vatican. The Vatican was not only responsible for religious beliefs as she had imagined. There was also a very complex and huge underground Holy See beneath the surface. Since the Middle Ages, they had fought with the dark forces. Exorcists were not simply characters in novels and movies, but really existed.

At this moment, the person whose arm she was holding was an exorcist of the Holy See.

It sounded really cool. It sounded cooler than an idol girl!

On the short walk home, Qi Leren's worldview had been scrubbed clean. Sadly, she still wanted to continue to be washed, but she had already returned to her doorstep. Still holding onto the girl: "Eat with me, my parents aren’t at home these days. I have no appetite when I eat alone, and I’ve lost a few pounds!"

Saying this, Qi Leren pinched her arm and looked at Ning Zhou pitifully.

Ning Zhou compromised again.

Qi Leren felt that she had found the trick to deal with Ning Zhou, she just had to play up this charm and act as the cute coquettish girl. Ning Zhou was shy and soft-hearted, and had no idea what to do with this kind of girl.

"Let me see what's in the refrigerator. When the auntie comes to clean the house in the morning, she leaves something for me to eat later. I just take it out and heat it up at night." Qi Leren opened the refrigerator and studied it for a while. She smiled back and reported the name of the dishes present. "...What would you like to eat?"

"Whatever."

"There’s no food called whatever! I’ll tell you what, shall I make you spaghetti and steak? I'm good at that! Okay, it's a deal! Go and do some homework and I'll cook." Qi Leren kicked Ning Zhou out of the kitchen, turned on the stereo, and played the songs off her last album, which were all youthful and relaxed and made people feel happy when they listened to them - although Qi Leren was not interested in her own songs at all. When she heard the melody, she would recall collapsing while singing and having to leave the recording studio to vomit, but out of some unspeakably subtle mood, she especially wanted to play it in front of Ning Zhou now.

This careful choice really caught Ning Zhou's attention. She picked up the album case that Qi Leren "inadvertently" put on the coffee table. The girl on the cover was wearing a sailor suit and full of energy, with her hair that was tied into a pair of ponytails floating up as she jumped. Her pitiable and lovely drooping eyes became glowing because of her happy smile.

Ning Zhou looked at it for a long time, but she didn't even notice that Qi Leren, who was busy in the kitchen, looked back at her frequently. She picked up the remote control and turned on the TV. The image of the song’s music video immediately appeared in front of her eyes. The girl wearing sportswear in the music video was participating in a sports meet and fell down as she ran, suffering from a cold sweat, but stood up stubbornly and limped to the end regardless of her bleeding knee.

That stubborn and tough look... Ning Zhou's heart was suddenly hit, and then she woke up. It was just a music video.

When she looked into the kitchen, she happened to collide with Qi Leren who was secretly peeking at her. Their eyes were separated by the transparent glass door. Caught red handed, Qi Leren covered her eyes with one hand. After a long time, she opened the glass door and blushed and as she said, "That music video was shot blindly! I didn't fall when I was running. Last year I won the 800-meter women's championship in the school sports meet!"

Of course, winning the championship was due to the fact that special sports students couldn't participate in the school sports meet.

At the sports meet, Qi Leren was photographed from beginning to end and made headlines with her win of the 800-meter championship, so when this music video came out, it was ridiculed in good faith - Le-mei, you won this 800-meter championship by beating the previous player, right?

Qi Leren really wanted to promote herself in front of Ning Zhou. It was naturally a bit depressing to be seen in the music video, and for Ning Zhou to take it so seriously...

Inexplicably ashamed and resentful Qi Leren pulled Ning Zhou away from watching the TV: "Give me a hand, you cook the spaghetti and I'll make the steak! If you don’t know how, I can teach you."

So one person's kitchen became two people’s, and the sunset outside the window stretched the shadows of the two people until they collided with each other unconsciously. When an elbow touched another person, the two people would stiffen and casually pretend it hadn’t happened.

The living room outside the kitchen echoed with the familiar melody, full of youth and love.

After dinner, Qi Leren invited Ning Zhou to work on homework together. Whenever she did homework, she always complained that she could earn money to support herself yet she still had to study hard and do homework. With how often she took leave, it wasn’t easy to stay in the middle ranking. The price was that she often had to study hard on the set with her textbooks, and she was so tired that she would never get up until she was hungry in the afternoon.

When doing homework, Qi Leren's mouth didn't stop. She talked to Ning Zhou who didn’t say a word. Ning Zhou said too little, and she was almost always chattering: "My mother has been very busy recently. She’s the busiest person in my family. It’s normal for her to fly to three cities in a day on press tours when a movie’s released. She acts so tired even at her age. I think she’ll struggle until she’s 80 years old. My dad’s fine, he isn’t too busy working at the university. I don’t see him very often, even though we’re his wife and daughter. When my mother’s resting, he is not busy. I really want to cover over his face." At some point, Qi Leren casually asked, "Where are your parents? Did they come to X City with you?"

Ning Zhou's writing hand kept moving as she said faintly, "They’ve passed away."

"Ah..." Qi Leren froze, "I'm sorry..."

Ning Zhou stopped writing and looked up at her: "It doesn't matter, it’s been a long time."

Her blue eyes were so calm, almost empty, as if talking about something irrelevant, but… why did she feel sad?

No, you haven't let it go at all, Qi Leren retorted in her heart. You’re obviously sad, but you don't want to admit it. Do you feel that you’re weak? It’s lovely that people have such strong emotions. They laugh when they’re happy, cry when they’re sad, and pursue bravely when they like someone. Because of these feelings, people are able to become real.

A bell came from somewhere far away. Qi Leren took a look at the time, strengthened her heart to keep Ning Zhou here, and pretended to learn the time casually as she said, "Ah, it's late, why do you have to leave? I am alone at home, and with what happened before... I’m a little scared." With that, Qi Leren blushed and asked, "Can you stay with me?"

In the face of such a person, such a request, Ning Zhou couldn't refuse. Receiving a positive answer, Qi Leren happily went to help her find a change of clothes: "I haven't worn these pajamas yet, the underwear is new, a toothbrush and towel are ready, and I put them in the bathroom on the second floor. I’ll go wash on the first floor."

Finished saying that, Qi Leren trotted down the stairs, brushed her teeth and washed her face quickly, and took a bath while humming. After washing, she looked at herself in front of the mirror for a while. After hesitating repeatedly, she picked up a bottle of girls’ perfume with a fresh scent from the washstand, sprayed it twice in the air, and then walked through the mist.

Qi Leren, who walked out of the bathroom, also sniffed her body nervously. It was light, and it wasn’t obvious after being mixed with shower gel. It should be... It should seem quite natural.

The fragrant Qi Leren walked to the piano in the living room, pressed it twice, then sat down and played the piano skillfully.

Ning Zhou, who had finished washing, came down the curved staircase. Qi Leren looked up at her and smiled as she said, "I'll sing you the song from my new single."

Ning Zhou nodded silently.

Qi Leren coughed twice: "This song ‘I like you’ is dedicated to the goddess Ning Zhou who is willing to accompany me through this frightening night. Your blue eyes are as beautiful as sapphires, I like them very much.

"Everything became incredible, I fell in love with you at first sight, and the world was instantly sweet. Your smile and your voice linger in my mind. My eyes only follow you in the crowd, and my first love suddenly comes... I want to take you out of your lonely world, I want to accompany you to see all the beautiful sights, and I am inseparable from you from now on... La la la la, just like you so much, la la la la, I like you."

In the brightly lit living room, the girl who played the piano and sang presented her a song with countless sweet smiles. When being watched by brown eyes, the heart always lost its rhythm, and the heat surging in her chest was so strange and difficult to control. She was afraid of this uncontrollable thing, but she just wanted to let it go.

As she finished playing, Qi Leren looked at her eagerly: "Is it good?"

Ning Zhou hard nodded her head.

So Qi Leren smiled: "I hoped you’d like it! When I have a new song next time, I’ll sing it to you again!"

Ning Zhou looked at her deeply, and her deep blue eyes seemed to become gentle under the light.

Qi Leren, who despite not having a teacher had learned how to pick up a hot chick, jumped with excitement and tried to calm down, saying, "It's late, let's go to sleep."

With this said, she took Ning Zhou to the bedroom: "My bed’s quite big, it’s no problem for two people to sleep in it. If you’re not used to it, we can each have a quilt."

Anyway, there was no such option as sleeping next door.

Ning Zhou was not used to it. Girls here went to the toilet in droves and walked in the street hand in hand. Kissing and touching were commonplace. When she first came, she thought the girls here were all gay, but later found out that this was a difference of national customs.

"My friends have told me about having sleepovers with their girlfriends, but I entered the entertainment industry too early and the agents are very strict, and I haven’t had any friends close enough to sleep with." Qi Leren seemed to be a little hesitant to look at Ning Zhou, and quickly tried to act cute to disguise it. "I’ll definitely have nightmares tonight..."

Ning Zhou compromised again, and she found herself frustrated that she was always easily persuaded in matters relating with Qi Leren, without any bottom line.

Qi Leren, successful in being allowed to share the same bed as the goddess, got under the quilt and snickered, so happy that she couldn't wait to roll a few times in bed. But in the face of the goddess, she had to be careful and reserved!

The dim bedside lamp lit up this square inch. Qi Leren got out from under the blanket and leaned against the pillow. She looked at Ning Zhou sideways and said with a smile, "Let's chat."

"..." They had agreed to go to bed since it was late. Ning Zhou felt unbearable condescension, but nodded her head.

Qi Leren was quite good at chatting. She couldn't help it, it was also the actor's professional quality to be eloquent. Otherwise, they would be tongue-tied when being interviewed by reporters and the other party will be embarrassed. When she was on talk shows, the atmosphere would be stagnant, and the lethality of the silence would be huge.

Seeing that the goddess agreed, Qi Leren chatted with her in a garrulous way, getting closer and closer, and in the end she had cocked her head and leaned on the other's shoulder to show her her photos.

"This photo was taken when I was seven years old. At that time, I cried and didn't want to go to school. My mother threatened to make me go to her film set with her if I didn't go to school. Every day, I had to crawl in the mud and hang from a wire. I cried and said that I would rather go to the shoot, so my mother took me to her film studio to teach me a lesson. At that time, she was filming a drama set in the Republic of China. It was scary watching them shoot a war scene. I was scared. I thought that the actor brother was really dead and started crying. The director of the studio next door had just come to chat with an old friend, looked at me crying pitifully, and said that the actress who was meant to play the little girl next door had broken her leg and couldn't come, and he discussed with my mother whether he could borrow me the show. At that time, I was so naive that I thought I really didn't have to go to school anymore if I did it, so I happily went away with the director and embarked on the road of no return. The worst thing is that I have to go to school while I’m shooting a show. If I don't do well on an exam, I have to ask my tutor to make up the missed lessons! It’s mad, there’s no humanity." Qi Leren chattered at Ning Zhou, talking about her mother and making angry gesticulations as she went on.

From the tip of her nose came the sweet smell of girls, mixed with shower gel and an unknown fragrance, which was pure and fresh and sweet. Ning Zhou, who was almost never so close to anyone, instinctively felt her body stiffen and repeatedly stressed to herself that she was harmless, that she needn’t be so on guard or have to fight back. On several occasions, her line of sight had habitually fallen on her slender neck, which was so soft that a gentle push would be enough to stop her from ever singing well again. It turned out that she was flawed, and she didn't have any precautions about showing them. This naive innocence made Ning Zhou anxious and subconsciously worried.

"...And you? What was it like when you were a child?" Qi Leren asked in a low voice, she was a little uneasy for fear that such a question would be too abrupt, but she couldn't help but want to know more about Ning Zhou.

That isn’t a happy memory, she doesn't want to know, Ning Zhou thought.

She didn't want to know of the endless bloody killings at the border between the Nightmare World and the human world, and what it was like to hunt demons alone at the border of hell since the age of thirteen, and she didn't want to know how painful it was when she ran out of food and fell into the demon forest and her intestines slipped out of an abdominal wound. Even when they were sitting side by side, the worlds they lived in were never the same.

She didn't want her to see the filth and darkness hidden behind the peaceful world.

Ning Zhou was silent for too long, and Qi Leren lowered his eyes in frustration and realized that her questions had troubled Ning Zhou: "I'm sorry... I'm too curious..."

"When I was thirteen years old, I went to the Vatican..." Ning Zhou interrupted her apology and said quietly, "I’ve never seen my father. After my mother died that year, I had no other relatives who could serve as guardians. Her friends followed her will and sent me to the Vatican, where a senior who respected her was my guardian.

"Living in the Vatican was very happy. I’ve learned a lot of things and I am determined to be an exorcist like my mother, fighting demons hidden in the dark. In recent years, the scope of the Nightmare World is expanding, and the number of demon attacks around the world is increasing... I was commissioned by a descendent of a German noble to investigate the history of his past relative who had lived in China with her family."

Ning Zhou saw Qi Leren looking eagerly at her and wanting to hear more, so she talked about some modified hunting demons. Qi Leren listened to her carefully. Ning Zhou said many words very carefully, with a little accent, but it sounded so lovely to Qi Leren. The more she listened, the more absorbed she became, and when she heard some thrilling thing she would gasp and hold Ning Zhou's hand nervously.

The girl's hand was small and soft, and the veins were clear. She found that Ning Zhou's hand was different from hers. She took her palm and looked left and right. She also curiously touched the thin veins that ran from her palm to her wrist, and touched Ning Zhou's left hand. There was a scar in the center that looked like a thorn, and she said with distress: "This must have been painful."

The palm of her hand felt crisp and numb, and Ning Zhou breathed slowly and withdrew her hand quietly: "It's time to sleep."

Qi Leren was a little regretful but she had to turn off the lights, depressed at the thought of having to shoot the music video tomorrow on her day off classes.

The room was dark and the balcony off the bedroom was open. The wind blew in from outside the screen window, together with the moonlight. Qi Leren lowered her breathing and listened carefully. She couldn't hear Ning Zhou's breathing at such a close distance. If it wasn't for the other person's temperature, she wouldn't even feel someone sleeping beside her.

The hand hidden under the quilt sneaked over and grabbed Ning Zhou's hand. She looked at her with her tilted face that was turned away from the moonlight. Her facial features were immersed in the darkness, yet her sapphire eyes were shining.

A smile appeared on Qi Leren’s moonlit face. She held Ning Zhou's hand, leaned over, and kissed her on the cheek: "Thank you for saving me today. Goodnight, Ning Zhou."

It was too close. When she had neared, Ning Zhou had almost turned over and stopped her, but the sweet smell of the girl puzzled her and she didn't move until her soft lips pressed to her cheek.

Qi Leren, who had kissed the goddess, lied back, and the quilt covered the lower half of her face, which also covered her hand clutching Ning Zhou’s.

Strange joy and pain haunted her at the same time. In such a complicated mood, she breathed another person's breath and gradually fell asleep.

The night was silent and long, but Qi Leren, who had always slept well, suddenly woke up. She hesitated, rubbed her eyes, and got out of bed to go to the toilet without realizing that she was the only one in the big bed.

When she walked to the bathroom, she looked at the mirror with a yawn. She looked sleepy in her reflection. Just when she was about to go out of the bathroom, she suddenly looked back with a start - the toothbrush cup on the washstand wasn’t hers!

The sleepiness was washed away at once and Qi Leren recalled, because the bathroom on the second floor had been lent to Ning Zhou, she had moved her things to the bathroom on the first floor, but... Where was Ning Zhou?!

Qi Leren ran out of the bathroom, shouting Ning Zhou's name and searching everywhere. There was no one in the bedroom, no one in the bathroom downstairs, no one in the living room, no one anywhere! A slipper fell off as she ran and Qi Leren suddenly thought of something, running to look at the shoe cabinet by the front door with one foot bare - Ning Zhou's shoes were gone.

She was gone?

Qi Leren sat down in front of the piano, angry and wronged. Why did Ning Zhou quietly leave in the middle of the night without saying a word? Why?

Maybe it was something urgent, Qi Leren thought sullenly, picked up the slippers she had dropped as she ran, and walked slowly back to her bedroom.

Once again back to the warm bed, Qi Leren sleeplessly rolled back and forth. When she was finished shooting the music video tomorrow, she would have to ask Ning Zhou.

Suddenly, an idea came to Qi Leren’s mind: Wait, was it because she snored and grinded her teeth when she slept, so Ning Zhou left because she couldn’t bear it?

Qi Leren held her face on both hands, like the frightened figure in "The Scream". After all that effort to convince the goddess to sleep in the same bed as her, she had made it unbearable for her to stay!

Qi Leren, who was on the verge of collapse, tearfully wanted to pick up her cellphone and turn on the camera. She wanted to record herself sleeping. How could a beautiful girl who was an idol sleep so badly? No, she refused!

With the cellphone set to record, Qi Leren lied back in bed, pulled the quilt up to cover half of her face, and the moonlight outside the balcony window was still clear. She still remembered that she had looked at Ning Zhou's face against the moonlight a few hours ago, and she was so curious about her, but when the tip of the iceberg of her past was uncovered, she couldn't help but feel distressed for her. She knew that the past Ning Zhou had told her of had been modified. She was not as relaxed and happy as she’d said. When she approached her, the stiff and cold alertness of her body could not deceive people.

Qi Leren didn't know what kind of experiences would make her develop these habits. Unlike her, this little princess who was brought up in the greenhouse from childhood and grew up like a star, Ning Zhou's wounds, cold eyes, and precise marksmanship... All the details implied that she is not a person of that world at all.

But so what? Couldn't different people be friends? She just liked Ningzhou, loved her dearly, and wanted to make her happy. She wanted to give her the most beautiful songs and show her all the bright, warm, and happy feelings. As long as she could get a little bit of happiness and a little bit of the world under the sun, she would feel it was worthwhile.

Since childhood, Qi Leren had received a lot of love. Now she wanted to give her love to Ning Zhou. She wanted her to feel that being loved was a very happy thing.

Thinking about this, sleepiness surged up again, and Qi Leren yawned and glanced at the moonlight on the balcony before closing his eyes.

When she was beginning to drift, Qi Leren felt that there seemed to be some movement by the bed. She opened her eyes in a daze and saw Ning Zhou lying down softly with her back to her.

"Where have you been?" Qi Leren murmured dreamily.

"...The bathroom."

Liar.

Qi Leren suddenly woke up, but she didn't open her mouth to confront her. Instead, she pretended to answer in a daze, stretched out her hand and continued to close her eyes. She could smell that the shower gel on Ning Zhou's body had changed, which wasn’t the smell of her family's shower gel.

Recalling the scene in which she had shot and killed the monster in the Nightmare World at dusk, Qi Leren knew her whereabouts well.

The fragrance couldn’t deceive her of the smell of iron and blood it masked.

Let's not expose her, Qi Leren thought. She took Ningzhou's hand and interlocked their fingers. Either way, this time she won't loosen her hand again.

When she was about to fall into a deep sleep again, Qi Leren felt vaguely as if someone had leaned over and said something to her, but she was too tired to fully register it before she lost consciousness.

Ning Zhou should have gotten up at dawn, but her hand was clasped tightly. As soon as she turned her face she could see Qi Leren sleeping soundly, with long eyelashes, red cheeks, and slightly open lips. What do you think is so lovely about me? Ning Zhou watched quietly for a long time, letting the sun rise higher and higher.

There was the sound of opening the door downstairs and someone came in. Ning Zhou, who had excellent five senses, frowned. These were a woman's footsteps. Was it Qi Leren's mother? Was it better for her to avoid them?

But Qi Leren also said that it was normal for girls here to sleep together...

The bedroom door was pushed open rudely and the woman with slender eyebrows and a good figure stood outside the open door and angrily knocked on it: "What time is it, is your cellphone not on, do you remember that you have to go shoot the music video today? Hurry and get up!"

Chen Baiqi, the agent who killed people in Qi Leren's family*, was about to rush in and pull her up. But when she looked at it from a distance, there were two people in the bed!

*{E/N: metaphorically, in case that wasn’t clear}　　

At this moment, Chen Baiqi, a senior agent, was about to collapse: Qi Leren! Do you still remember that you’re an idol acting as a role model for young and beautiful girls? Why is there a wild man! You can't fall in love before changing your image! How have you already developed to this step!

The "wild man" sat up from the bed and looked at Chen Baiqi coldly.

Oh, it's not a wild man. That's great... Like hell! Who is this woman!

With her hair a mess, Qi Leren yawned as she sat up in bed, looked back at Ning Zhou, and kissed her on the cheek naturally: "Good morning, Ning Zhou."

Chen Baiqi: "..."

"Oh, Chen-jie, this is my classmate. I’m a little scared of sleeping alone, so I let her accompany me," Qi Leren talked nonsense without a hint of shame.

"...Hehe." Chen Baiqi thought: Don't smile, your parents aren’t home half the time. How did you sleep before?

The girl named Ning Zhou nodded to her and went to wash up. Qi Leren took Chen Baiqi to the bathroom downstairs and explained the situation to her while brushing her teeth and washing her face. Paranormal, met yesterday, couldn't be spoken of. She had to say that there had been a small incident with a mugger as she had been walking home yesterday, and she was just saved by her classmate Ning Zhou. Since she was a little afraid, she had asked her to please stay for one night.

Chen Baiqi was skeptical but she couldn't say anything, so she let her quickly wash up so they could go to the studio.

Qi Leren remembered that her cellphone was recording her last night, and it should have automatically shut down when the battery had been depleted. No wonder Chen Baiqi came to her house in such a hurry to catch her in person.

After washing, Qi Leren, who had forgotten to eat breakfast, told Ning Zhou that there was food in the refrigerator. The auntie will come to clean up later and she could leave a note for her. She should just say what she wanted for the evening.

Ning Zhou had the illusion that she lived here.

After telling Qi Leren that she had something to go do, Qi Leren let out a "oh" in frustration and reluctantly followed Chen Baiqi to get in the car that would drive them to the shooting location.

Chen Baiqi inquired about Ning Zhou from beginning to end along the way, and Qi Leren said all the things that should be said, but didn't say a word that shouldn't be said. Chen Baiqi's intuition was that Ning Zhou wasn't so simple, but without evidence she couldn't rashly make Qi Leren stay away from her.

Finally, she sighed: "Your identity is unusual. You should be very careful when making friends. If you meet someone with ulterior motives who enters your room, secretly films you, eavesdrops on you, and reveals your privacy to the media, it will be a great blow to your image, especially as your current image is very sensitive to negative news."

Qi Leren knew that Chen Baiqi is good for her and obediently listened to her instructions.

"Although your last transformation was very successful and you got rid of the image of a little girl, this transformation is the key. If you can't jump out of the image of a young girl now, your journey will only get narrower and narrower. You’ll find that as you grow older you’ll be hired for fewer and fewer roles, and there are always young new faces to replace you. The audience doesn't want to see a 30-year-old actress playing a 17- or 18-year-old girl. Your mother's train of thought is very clear, she will take the time to find a drama for you where she can play mother and daughter with you - your mother also fights for you, she never promised to play such an age-exposing role before - this stunt can drive your popularity, if you play well, you’ll play the leading role in the next show, and when the small screen stands firm, it will develop like your mother to the big screen. The company is already discussing your new image and route. When you go to college it will begin, and then you won’t be as leisurely as you are now." Chen Baiqi couldn't help rubbing her temples when she thought of how busy she would be in the future.

"I’ll try my best, Chen-jie, thank you for taking so much trouble for me." Qi Leren cleverly said that although she was the one standing in front of the audience, there were countless people worried about her behind the scenes/ She had gone too far today and Chen Baiqi had helped her block trouble she didn’t know about.

It wasn’t easy to be an actress. Qi Leren looked at the passing scenery outside the window and sighed softly.

But it was no harder than being an exorcist. As Qi Leren thought again, she couldn't help smiling at the thought of Ning Zhou. They would have many opportunities to get along with each other in the future.

-----

Editor’s Notes: To be continued...? (don’t hold your breath)

Phew, this was a longer chapter than I remembered, but this completely caps off Nightmare Game part 1! I have one more little bonus of funny things from the mtl, which can be found [here] if you’re interested.  

Thank you once again to everyone for reading and I’ll see you again in part 2! :)

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#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏

[mrfeenysmustache]

Cold

Written for @sesskag monthly prompts.

January's prompt: cold

Summary: Inspired by a tumblr post theorizing that Sesshomaru may be wearing makeup. I can’t find that post anymore or I would link it.

Can also be read on AO3 and FFN

The air in the cave was dry and warm despite the storm raging outside, but Kagome still felt stiff.

The sky had been dark and heavy all day, threatening at any moment to break open over their heads. A cool wind sliced through the hot summer humidity, whipping their hair into their faces and chilling their skin. They watched with wariness as the clouds churned above them, laced through with lightening and the distant rumbles of thunder.

They’d agreed to continue their journey as they were in a mountainous region with plenty of little caves to shelter in, but they were all on edge thanks to the charged atmosphere.

And then chaos struck.

A band of demons attacked for the shards and their group was quickly split up in the fighting. Kagome was shocked to find herself fighting alone with Sesshomaru when she’d previously been walking with Sango, but he’d long since proven himself a trustworthy ally so she did her best to offer support with her own powers and watched in awe as he took care of their opponents with quick, efficient ease.

And then the rain started.

Thick sheets of freezing rain dumped from the sky and soaked them through to the bone. Kagome panicked for just a moment when she couldn’t see through the downpour, but then a strong arm closed around her waist and she was airborne. She immediately relaxed upon recognizing the aura of her previous battle partner, and he quickly found them a suitable cave for hiding from the rain.

Her relief soon gave way to awkwardness.

She was completely alone... with Sesshomaru. They’d all joined forces some time ago in their seemingly endless search for Naraku, and in that time Sesshomaru had gone from enemy, to reluctant ally, to steady companion. They had what she considered, and hoped he did as well, a tentative friendship. They spoke here and there of things from her time, his life outside of the spider hunt, and even asked each other for advice and clarification on the children they’d adopted from each other’s respective species.

But Kagome was still nervous to be too casual with him, afraid of offending his aristocratic sensibilities by lowering anymore formality than she already had.

She was regretting that right about now as she stood and fidgeted with her hands while he gathered sticks from the dusty cave floor for a fire.

“If you have dry clothing to change into in that pack, you should change into them now. There is a small chamber in the back of the cave you can use for privacy.”

She said a quick prayer of thanks that he wasn’t looking at her to see they way she startled at the sound of his voice. She pressed a hand to her racing heart and looked around, spotting her overly stuffed bag against the cave wall. She snatched it up and scurried into the little stone alcove that was just deep enough to grant her the necessary privacy to change. Once dry and free of her wet clothes she felt much more comfortable, especially at the sight of the crackling fire in the center of the cave. It chased away the rest of the chill and lit the tiny shelter up with warm, golden light.

She sat down near the flames and relaxed further as warmth and comfort suffer her entire being, then she looked up at Sesshomaru sitting on the other side, intent on thanking him for helping her to shelter and building a fire when the words died in a garbled mess in her throat.

“What are you doing?!” She screeched, and he lifted one brow in question, but continued to remove the top half of his clothing.

“Would you rather I sat in my wet clothing?”

“I... I... uh-“ she clapped her hands over her flaming cheeks and looked pointedly away from his bare chest. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that he wouldn’t be as fortunate as she was to have so many extra clothes on hand. It would be really rude to ask him to sit there in wet clothing just because she was embarrassed.

‘Get it together Kagome, you’re an adult now, you can handle sharing a cave with a naked male.’

But when he started on removing his hakama she panicked again.

“WAIT!”

She rummaged through her bag and pulled out the fluffy robe she’d added in sometime in the last two years to wear after bathtimes during the colder months and handed it to him. He sniffed at it and then raised a brow at her in question.

“Its... kind of like a Yukata? People wear them after baths and things.”

He nodded and slipped the robe on, tying the belt around his waist before divesting himself of the rest of his clothes and Kagome breathed a little easier, though he did look a little funny in her fuzzy bathrobe.

He sat down in front of the fire and began ringing his soaking hair out. She felt a pang of guilt that she’d allowed her nerves to keep her from seeing that he was still absolutely dripping in rain water.

‘He killed those Youkai, grabbed my bag, got me to safety, AND built a fire. I’m not being a very good friend right now...’

“Here Sesshomaru-sama, I have a towel you can use. It’ll work better than just ringing it out.”

She met his gaze bravely despite her still pink cheeks as she offered him her towel and he nodded gratefully, pulling it over his head and rubbing it through his hair.

Kagome returned to her place on the other side of the fire and contemplated getting her books out to do some studying, but then Sesshomaru’s hand entered her field of vision holding out her now damp towel.

She took it and smiled up at him, but then his face made her gasp in alarm.

“Sesshomaru-sama! Your stripes!”

He blinked and his hand raised to his cheek.

“My stripes? What about my-“

“No not those, the ones on your eyes.. they’re gone!”

His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment and his head tilted just barely to the side.

“You speak nonsense miko. I do not have stripes on my eyes.”

Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him a moment.

“No eye stripes? How can you say that? They’re the same color as your cheek stripes! They go just across your eyelid!”

“Ah, those. Those are not stripes.”

“Then what are they? Where did they go?”

“They must have come off on the towel. They are much the same as what the slayer has on her eyes.”

Kagome stared blankly at him for several seconds, and then shook out her towel, examining both sides thoroughly until she found what she was looking for.

Two red splotches streaked across the white fabric in a way so familiar she couldn’t deny it no matter how incredible the whole incident seemed.

“Makeup?! Sesshomaru-Sama, you wear eyeliner? This whole time it’s been eyeliner?”

“I have never heard it called thus, but it is an apt enough description.”

“Huh.” She stared at him in disbelief for a moment before simply sinking back to the cave floor.

She eyed him and he looked very strange with nothing on his eyelids. She snorted at that thought.

‘He’s sitting across from me naked in a bathrobe and it’s his lack of eyeshadow that’s making this so weird. Go figure.’

“Do you.... need a mirror to put more on?”

“Thank you miko, but my supply is with Ah-Un.”

“I see. Does it... mean anything? The makeup, I mean.”

She had a hard time looking into his eyes as she spoke to him. It was like a classmate getting contact lenses after wearing glasses their whole life; it looked like him... but wrong.

He shrugged elegantly and spread his clothing a little closer to the fire to dry faster.

“It is not uncommon for those in my station to wear such facial adornments. My father inherited the practice from his father. My mother adopted it when they married. They both passed it on to me.”

“Oh... is it always the same color?”

“It does not have to be, but that’s the color my mother prefers. It is she who supplies it to me.”

“Oh interesting...” Kagome replied, once again eyeing her bag. Somewhere in there was a set of colorful eyeliner pencils she’d bought, intending to gift them to Sango. She’d known the red on her slayer friend's eyes was some sort of makeup, and she was going to ask if the new colors would be something sango would like, but the opportunity presenting itself to her now was too good to pass up.

‘And I can always buy more next time I go through the well.’

“Would Uh... would you be open to trying some new colors tonight then?”

“Come again, Miko?”

Instead of explaining, she dug through her bag until she found the pencils and held them up triumphantly, expecting that to be sufficient explanation. She was rewarded with a flat look of annoyance.

“Am I supposed to know what this is?”

She giggled and then moved around the fire to sit nearer to him, taking out one of the pencils and handing it over for his inspection.

“They’re eyeliner pencils. This is how people in my time would color our eyelids like you do. I have several colors in here if you want to try! I can even do it for you the first time!” She chirped happily, confident he would not take her up on that particular offer.

Her world fell out from under her when he handed the pencil back.

“Very well. I will allow it.”

“S-say What?!”

“I have never used such a device before miko, so I will allow you to demonstrate.”

“Uh.. Okay, that’s fair enough. Any particular color you’d prefer?”

She held out the package and he looked it over carefully before using his claws to gingerly pull one out and hand it to her.

“Green? That’s unexpected. But okay, I can do it. I’ll need you to stay seated and close your eyes, okay Sesshomaru-sama?”

“Hn.” He responded and tilted his face up, and Kagome had to take a deep breath to calm her once again racing heart.

She was struck by the realization that she’d never seen him this close before. She’d always found him beautiful in a very distant sort of way, but this close up he was positively stunning. His face was relaxed and trusting, and she felt touched that she’d made herself someone he could let his guard down around; his lashes were long and dark against his cheeks, and his chiseled jaw and nose were softened by skin that seemed too perfect and unmarred for such a battle hardened warrior.

Her hands fluttered around his face a moment before she found the nerve to force herself to touch him, resting one hand against his cheek to steady his face while she poised the other over his eyes. With as steady a hand as she could manage she pressed the tip of the pencil to his lid and pulled it across. A green line followed behind until she reached the end of his eye.

She switched sides and finished off the other eye, making sure they matched and that one line wasn’t longer or thicker than the other, and then she smiled in accomplishment that this whole thing hadn’t turned out to be a disaster.

“Alright Sesshomaru-Sama, I’m done.”

His eyes opened and her breath caught. The firelight reflected back at her, illuminating the otherworldly gold of them in a way that left her stunned. They looked just like a diamond she’d seen once during a trip to the mall as a child, it was large, clear and yellow, and it reflected a million pinpoints of rainbow light just the way his eyes were doing now. They shimmered and swirled and the only thought they left in her head was that she can’t believe she’d ever thought of these eyes as cold.

She cleared her throat and took a step back to give herself some space to breath, turning away to pull her mirror from her bag.

“H-here you go, you can use this to see. It’s very, very different from usual, but I have to say, the green look really nice with your eyes.”

Her cheeks warmed again but she met his gaze resolutely before he looked into the mirror at his reflection. He turned his head from side to side and examined her work then hummed under his breath in approval.

“This color is pleasing.”

“You can keep the pencil then. You can have all of them if you like.”

He took the package again and looked them over, drawing out another one.

“Your turn.” He said, gesturing for her to sit in front of him.

“Uh, pardon?”

“Sit Kagome, this Sesshomaru will return the favor.”

“Oh, you don’t have-“

“Sit.”

She did as told, swallowing down the explosion of butterflies that threatened to swarm up her throat and choke her.

She’d spent far too long isolated with the inhumanly beautiful Lord of the West, she desperately needed to rain to stop so she could get some fresh air.

He tilted her chin up gently and her eyes fluttered closed. She felt him press the pencil to her forehead, and in just a few moments he bid her open her eyes and look in her mirror.

She gasped again when she found that he’d drawn on her brow a purple moon that matched his own perfectly.

She looked back up at him in confusion, and found him staring back with a small but soft smile.

‘Oh my...’

She had a feeling that there was a meaning she was missing, but she decided she wouldn’t worry too much about that for now, this day had already been too much.

She looked back at the reflection of her new moon and grinned.

“Thank you Sesshomaru-sama.”

They relaxed into comfortable conversation, shared some travel rations from her bag, and then finally the storm broke just after Sesshomaru was able to redress.

Mere moments after the last drop fell from the sky, Inuyasha and the others came racing through the entrance, a million questions about what had happened and if they were safe. “What the hell happened to your face?!” Inuyasha shouted incredulously at his first look at his brother, but when Sesshomaru simply stared at him he huffed and rushed them all outside to hurry on their way.

She hugged her friends in greeting, shouldered her bag, and slipped the package of makeup pencils into Ah-Un’s saddle bag.

They were set to go, a few last rays of sun to spend finding a camping spot, and Kagome was ready to set off with an extra spring in her step.

#skmpjan21 #sesskag monthly prompt #SessKag #sesskagfanfic #sesskag oneshot #sesshoumaru #sesshomaru x kagome #Kagome

[preciousthingsareprecious]

With a Heart of Scars Chapter 9

The biggest thanks to @dreamer-247re for creating incredible art for this chapter. It’s stunning and gorgeous and still takes my breath away every time I look at it! 

This one’s Damian’s POV again, and I hope you guys enjoy it <3

AO3 Link 

~

The moment Grayson dropped into the building the connection to his comm went silent, and nothing Damian tried could get it to turn back on. He suspected some kind of interference, if people had been trapped in that building for hours, something was blocking their phone signals, and that same something was probably interrupting their comm line as well. Not that either of them had thought of that before Grayson entered.

A stupid miscalculation on Damian's part. One he would not repeat again. 

Damian found an external camera he could hack, and caught sight of a hooded figure whose shape was roughly the same as that of one of the people who had set up the strange twister game. The person was fiddling with something blocky that Damian couldn’t quite make out, before pressing it to the side of the building. 

Could it be a bomb? A listening device of some sort? He wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t hail Grayson. But, perhaps he could send backup Batman’s way. 

“Oracle, I need your assistance.” 

“Hey Lil’ D, what’s up?” Gordon asked, sounding far too bright for this hour, and curious. 

He ignored the outrageous nickname usage, “Are the Birds close to the downtown shopping district?” 

“Batgirl and Black Bat are currently stowed away on a ship, getting ready to turn it around. Why?” 

“Tt, Batman is in need of backup. There are unknown hostiles approaching him and a possible bomb threat, but I cannot contact him.” 

“I’ll give it a shot on my end. Is Tim home yet? Can he head out?” 

Damian ground his teeth. No his brother, and Grayson’s supposed partner, had not returned yet. If he had, he had not made it known to any of them. There was no one to back Batman up. No one but Damian himself. 

He shoved aside all thoughts of possible punishment for going out without permission, and pushed his chair away from the desk. 

“No. He is not.” Damian stood, “It seems it is up to me to handle the situation. Oracle, stay on this line so that when Pennyworth comes down you can inform him of the situation.” 

He looked down at himself and frowned. He was wearing a brightly colored shirt Pennyworth had purchased him, featuring a cartoon dog on the front. There was no way he could rescue Batman in that. 

He hurried to the lockers and grabbed the first dark thing he could find, a black hoodie. It turned out to not be solid, but had a Nightwing emblem splashed across the front. The sleeves were also too long, but Damian easily rolled those up, before tugging the hood over his hair. Then he grabbed an extra domino mask and affixed it to his face. Lastly, he grabbed one of Drake’s Robin belts. Grayson had made Damian take inventory of the belt a number of times to get familiar with its contents, and he was confident it was small enough to fit him. It also would have medical supplies and weapons to defend himself if the situation called for it. He didn’t bother changing out of his black jeans or tennis shoes, both would do fine for the rescue mission. 

Through his quick change, he ignored Oracle’s requests for more information, and demands that he stay right there and send Alfred instead. Damian respected Pennyworth, but he didn’t want to waste time. 

Besides, this was partially his fault, and he was the only one who really knew how to fly the Batmobile. It would be the fastest way to reach Grayson. 

Damian was quite proud of his achievement. After growing bored of exploring the cave systems, and discovered some of Father’s schematics and future plans to make his car fly and had taken to making those plans a reality. He had even gotten permission to work on it. Grayson had happily supplied not only permission, but any supplies he needed when Damian had asked. He was further encouraged by the fact that the man had come downstairs to sit with him a few times. However, it was Damian's project and he was most familiar with the systems. He had not even had time to tell anyone that he’d actually managed to get it to fly. 

Gordon must have called Pennyworth, because Damian spotted the man hurrying down the stairs as he climbed into the car.

“Master Damian, wait!” he called. 

Damian ignored the request, closing the door, and starting the engine. He felt a little bad for ignoring Pennyworth, but time was of the essence and he needed to get to Grayson. He hoped Pennyworth would not be too upset with him as he raced past the man and out the exit, but he would have to understand just how important this was. There was no time left to dally if he were to stop something bad from happening to the man he was beginning to consider family.

A few meters out of the cave, Damian hit the button to begin the car’s flying sequence. After a brief moment of panic that it would not work, slowly but surely it lifted off, and Damian's shoulders relaxed minutely. Soon he was zooming over trees and streets, and obstacles that would have cut into the time it took to get to Grayson’s location. 

He fretted as he flew, his mind coming up with every terrible thing that could happen, his stomach growing sicker at each thought. Most of all, he couldn't stop thinking about why he was betraying every house rule to rush out and save Grayson. 

When had he really started to care about him? When had it become more than his just using the man to learn more about his Father? He’d come to respect Grayson quickly, that was certain. But this sick feeling of worry was one Damian had only held for his mother on the rare occasion she was late returning from a dangerous mission. 

Damian tolerated Brown and Todd and Cain, but Grayson? He looked forward to seeing the man. Had come to enjoy his smiles, and even put up with his nicknames. They were warm, like a blanket wrapped around his shoulders when he was tired, or a coat on a cold day. 

It was stupid. And weak. And foolish. Feelings like this were compromising, they would get him killed. Make him run headlong into danger without a thought for himself, much like he was doing now. But Damian found he didn’t care about being weak in that sense. It hurt to imagine  not  caring about Grayson. And so he fretted. He fretted and worried and ignored the pinging of a message from Oracle. 

That sick feeling in Damian’s chest exploded into awful panic as Main Street finally came into view and he caught sight of what used to be Wonderland, now a smoking wreck, collapsed in on itself. 

He held his emotions in check long enough to take the car down, right onto the street and bolt out of it. 

“Batman!” he yelled, bolting for the wreckage “Where are you?” 

Damian should not be panicking. Panic made one miss things, it made them sloppy. But Batman had been in the building. It had blown up. He could be--Grayson might be--

No. Grayson would be fine. Damian would find him, and get him home, and he would be fine. 

He scanned the rubble of the building, and yelled for Batman again, his voice raspy in the smoke billowing around. Belatedly he remembered the domino was equipped with some basic alternate vision options, Damian poked at it until it showed heat signatures. 

It didn’t look like the building had caught fire, thank goodness, but there was a large area of warmth towards where the back would have been that radiated out into other areas. 

“Batman!” he called again, vision slowly creeping across rubble. 

He had no idea how deep the lenses would penetrate. Some parts of the rubble were raised higher than others, like they’d all fallen in that direction, while others were spars, bits and pieces here and there still showing the floor that had once been inside.

“Here.” the word was faint, and trailing at the end, but it gave Damian hope. 

He jerked his attention towards the sound, and there! A figure, the heat registering as cooler than Damian wanted it to be, but that could have been the weather or injury or just rubble blocking it. Whatever it was, he bolted in it’s direction, only turning off the filter when he was close enough to clearly see Batman. 

He was on his back, partially trapped under fallen drywall. Damian had missed him on his first glance due to the drywall’s angle, tilted up and slightly against Grayson to block him from proper view. 

“Batman!” He called again, and started climbing over the rubble as carefully as he could without risking dislodging something and shifting the whole pile, “I am on my way.” 

His heart was racing. He was terrified, he realized. Afraid of what he’d find. Afraid of what had happened. Afraid to be too late, even now. 

When he reached Batman, he dropped to his knees to examine him. The most obvious injury was the blood that seeped out from under his cowl. Everything else was hidden under the fallen drywall.

“Batman, I am going to have to lift this, brace yourself.” he said. 

“Nightwing?” Grayson asked, the word slurring, “What?”

Damian looked down at his hoodie and the Nightwing emblem emblazoned on it, “Oh. No, you idiot. It is me. Now hold still while I lift this.”

He leaned forward, and gripped the drywall to lift it. It was lighter than Damian imagined it to be, but still quite heavy. When he got it up high enough, he shifted to shove his shoulder under it to help him leverage it even higher and then away, angled just far enough that his brother’s body was revealed. 

“Scoot back.” Damian grunted.

Thankfully, Grayson seemed to have enough sense to listen. He dragged himself back from Damian and the drywall, moving just far enough that after a moment, Damian let the whole thing drop again with a crash. 

His shoulder ached, but he had more important things to worry about than it. He quickly examined Batman, the suit on Grayson’s right thigh had been torn open by something, and his leg was slowly oozing blood. The wound did not seem to be serious enough for Damian to stop and take care of it now, so instead he focused on getting the man home for a full check up and proper medical attention. 

He leaned over to take Grayson by the arm, “Come, we are leaving.” 

He hauled his brother up onto unsteady legs. Grayson stood for a few seconds before slumping. He would have fallen if Damian hadn’t caught him, still the man was much taller than him, and carrying him was going to be difficult. 

“This is not going to be comfortable, Batman.” Damian said, “But we will make it work.” 

He tugged one of Grayson’s arms over his shoulder, and gripped the back of Batman's utility belt as tightly as he could under the cape to help hoist him up, and then started forward. He was basically dragging Grayson as they moved, and because of that he could not be as careful moving across the rubble. Thankfully, he was not worried about further crushing his brother, so the only real obstacle was tripping or dislodging something so that he fell into a hole. 

Grayson seemed to come a bit back to himself, at least enough to speak, “But  I’m  Nightwing?”  

Damian shook his head, “No, as I explained, you are Batman, I am--” he dreaded having to use the nickname, “Lil’ D.”

His brother shook his head, “No, no, I’m Nightwing. Batman is--Bruce is--”

“Grayson, Father is-- he is gone.” Damian said, “You are Batman now.” 

That was the wrong thing to say because it made Grayson try to pull away from his grip. He was confused, and hurting, which added some strength to his attempts and threatened to topple them both. 

“No!” Grayson cried, “I don’t want to be Batman. I never-- I don’t have to because Bruce is.” 

His attempts to get away from Damian finally succeeded in making Damian slip, a stone dislodged from under his foot, and then the ground disappeared and Damian fell down, then to the side. He lost his grip on Grayson, and landed hard on his already aching shoulder. 

Behind him, he heard rumbling as the structure shifted. He felt the vibrations under his palms as he pushed himself up, to spin and search for his brother. 

Grayson had landed on his knees, and was staring down at the bat on his chest, one hand brushing over it.

“Father is dead, Grayson.” Damian snapped, as he stepped over to lift Grayson again. 

“That is why you are Batman, now act like it and pull yourself together for a moment.” 

Normally, he would not have cared about being so brusque, but even with the cowl covering most of his face the effect of Damian’s words on Grayson was obvious. He looked like a kicked puppy. It twisted Damian’s heart, but he couldn’t waste time on feelings. He needed to get Grayson home, first and foremost. Then worry about the hurt his words caused. 

He managed to drag Grayson off the rubble and back to the car. It took some work to get him settled in the passenger’s seat, but Grayson had stopped fighting him, and was mostly responsive to directions.

It did not take long for Grayson to pass out once they were moving. Damian tried to wake him, but there was no autopilot function build into the flying portion of the car yet --he had that on his list of activities for next week-- so he had to focus on getting them home, and hoping that Grayson would be fine. 

He did phone the Batcave to update Pennyworth on their status. The butler’s anger was quickly set aside for worry, and a flood of questions about Grayson’s condition. Damian did his best to describe it, and estimate an arrival time. 

Pennyworth took over when Damian finally parked. He went from being in command of the situation to following whatever directions were aimed at him, and he did so happily. Grayson had woken again when they moved him from the car, and was now babbling about Father. He was alternating between asking where he was and crying over losing him. 

The guilt Damian had been able to ignore earlier came back at those words, and he felt terrible for snapping at his brother. He felt even worse that he could not seem to muster any grief over his father. Not in the same way Grayson was feeling it now. He was too concerned about his brother. His not quite partner who he’d almost lost tonight. Who had been out because of a Father who was not there. Who was alone because of a father Drake was still searching for. Who was now crying out for that same father. 

He did his best to ignore the strange twist of emotions in his chest and help Pennyworth instead. He collected blankets, lifted Grayson’s head, and handed over bandages as they were requested. 

Damian finally stopped moving when Grayson was at last sleeping and settled into a medical cot. He could not leave Grayson, no matter how conflicted looking at the man made him. So Damian settled in a chair and declared he’d keep an eye on him while Pennyworth got some rest. 

He tugged his legs up, onto the chair, so he could wrap his arms around them, and rested his chin on his knees. Somewhere in all the chaos, the sleeves of his borrowed hoodie had slipped down, and fallen over his hands to flop. Damian didn’t bother re-rolling them, but instead enjoyed the way they gave him a feeling of being further wrapped up, snuggled in something tight and comforting.

Sitting there, his odd feelings from earlier returned. He called them odd because he had not had time to pick at the strange ball of emotion in his chest and sort out what it all meant. 

There was irritation with himself over this attachment. He could hear mother’s voice in his head, chiding him and reminding him that love was a weakness. That caring about others only held one back. She was right of course, Damian had thrown all caution to the wind, disobeyed Pennyworth, and Oracle and run headlong after Grayson over a hunch. It had been correct, but even that was neither here nor there in consideration of the danger it had posed. 

The caring itself was another factor Damian turned over in his head, like he had turned the batarangs Grayson had shown him how to sharpen in his hands. Love, or at the very least, like, was dangerous. It was sharp, like the ends of the batarang, and would cut him if he was not careful, but it was also warm, like Grayson’s words had been. Gentle like his hands had felt in adjusting Damian’s grip. Something soft and happy like Damian’s heart had felt at Grayson’s praise. 

Damian looked back down at his brother. Grayson’s arms were laid out on top of the light blanket covering him. One hand was already showing bruising, ugly black and blue splotches where he must have raised them in defense. The bruises flowed down his forearm, and ended in a bullseye on his elbow. It made Damian wince just imagining it.

He released his hold on his legs and brushed a hand across the back of Grayson's palm, considering taking it in his own. Then the man groaned, and shifted, his hand slipping away from Damian's feather light grasp. He swallowed, and wrapped his arm back around his legs to grab his other hand, before resting his chin on his knees to continue his vigil. 

#Damian Wayne #Dick Grayson #fanfiction #with a heart of scars #chapter 9 #precious posts

[knittingdreams]

Fireheart - Chapter 23

Sorry for the wait! Here’s another chapter for y’all <3

If you’re following the story on Ao3, I uploaded the newest chapter there last night!! It’s a good oneee :D

If you’re not up to date, here’s the Masterlist

Tiny tag list: @tillyrubes10

CHAPTER 23

Owning the title

As Aelin got her gown out of the plastic bag from the dry cleaners, she found herself still thinking about the night before. She had stayed with Sam at the beach long into the night, and they had talked about the past few years, about everything they knew about Arobynn and their secret dreams of wishing he was out of the picture.

Sam explained he wasn’t scared about himself, but about her when he had made the deal with Arobynn; and after a lot of convincing, Sam had agreed to stop passing information to him, and only give him the information they would agree on. He also told her Arobynn had been oddly distant, traveling all the time and having secret meetings Sam wasn’t invited to. 

Aelin had even confided in Sam that she was gutted to have lost Nehemia and that it sucked not to be able to be herself with people. She was tired of lying and hiding all the time, and Sam was the only other person who could understand that. But what other option did she have? He had suggested for her to try again, to give Nehemia the chance to get closer, to get a glimpse of the real Aelin, and she had almost told him to fuck off for it. But she had promised herself to try and be the sister Sam had always seen her as, so she had just punched him in the shoulder for being obnoxious and unrealistic instead. 

She had woken up that morning feeling so much lighter, so relieved to have let such a huge weight off her shoulders. She might have fucked things up with Nehemia, but at least she had Sam back. 

A knock on the door startled her, and she went to open up.

“Since when do you knock?” She raised her brows at Sam and made sure her dressing gown was properly closed.

“Well, after our chat last night, I thought you’ve earned it.”

“You’re such a weirdo, Cortland. Come in before anybody sees you lurking around.”

She pushed Sam into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Everything good and ready for tonight?”

“Actually, I heard Arobynn talking on the phone today,” Sam said as he followed her into the bedroom. “And he’s going to that gala.”

Celaena turned around swiftly. “He, what?”

“I think he’s someone’s plus one, but I’m not sure I got that right. I just thought you ought to know.”

“Well, that sucks.”

She paced up and down the room, considering what she could do about it. Did it change anything?

“It’s a masquerade though, isn’t it? He might not even recognize you.”

“No chance of that,” she said, showing him the dress she was about to put on. “It’s one of the dresses he gifted me, and I was going to wear Fireheart’s mask because it matches it perfectly. He will know it’s me.”

The dress was a red long gown, with a low V neck that went down almost to her navel and a closed-back, all embroidered with silver and gold stones. It had short sleeves that hugged her shoulders nicely, a tight bodice that accentuated her curves, and a flowy skirt that seemed to dance around her every time she walked.

“Well, you have an excuse to be there, it’s not a big deal. I just wanted you to be mentally prepared to run into him.” Sam grabbed the dress off her hands and took it out of the hanger. He ran his fingers across the stones in the back and started opening up the hidden zip on the side. “What shoes are you wearing?”

Feeling a bit weirded out, Celaena grabbed the shoes off the side of the bed and lifted them for Sam to see them. They were high heels that wrapped up halfway through her calves.

“You’re going to give Dorian a heart attack,” Sam said laughingly. “Want a hand getting into it?” he asked as he passed her the gown.

“Oh, fuck off, Cortland, we’re not that kind of friends!” She set the gown down on the bed and started pushing Sam out of the room. “Now, come on, get out of here, I need to get ready.”

“We could be that kind of friends, you know.”

“Out, now!”

Sam laughed out loud as he was shoved all the way down the hall, and walked the rest of the way towards the front door. He grabbed the duffel bag by the entrance and turned around to smile at her before heading out the door.

“See you later!” he chanted as he closed the door between them.

“Fuck sakes, I give him a fingertip and he grabs my whole damn arm.” Celaena walked back to her room biting her lip, the laughter stuck on her chest as she tried too hard to keep it down.

An hour later, she walked down the hall, hit the call down button, and jumped into an empty elevator. When the doors opened up at the lobby, Dorian was already waiting for her, leaning against the front desk casually while talking with one of the receptionists. As she walked out, he straightened up and walked over, meeting her in the middle of the lobby.

“Wow,” he said as he offered her an arm. “You look stunning tonight, not like you don’t usually look stunning.”

“Thanks.” She hooked her elbow on his, and they turned towards the exit. “You look pretty okay yourself.”

“Okay? Wouldn’t you say… dazzling? Marvelous? Splendid?” He smiled broadly at her, and Celaena stifled a laugh.

“I’ll stick with okay.” 

It was a lie, Dorian was wearing a dark blue tuxedo with a red bowtie that matched her dress perfectly, and he did look indeed dazzling. He had a dark blue mask that covered only his eyes, making them seem a lighter shade of blue if that was even possible. They would have matched so much better if Celaena wasn’t wearing those damned contact lenses. His dark hair was the perfect contrast to her ash-blond curls, and as she caught a glimpse of themselves in the mirror by the entrance, she realized heads would be turning their way all night... And there was no way Arobynn wouldn’t notice her.

They rode alone in a limousine, Dorian trying to make small talk and convince her to stay till later the whole time. Walking into the venue, heads did turn their way, and Dorian greeted absolutely everybody, introducing her to other businessmen, female entrepreneurs, and even a few family members. He was polite and kind to everybody, and Celaena was surprised to see a side of him she hadn’t seen at school. 

The stuck-up guy was gone, and a more formal but caring Dorian was showing instead.

“Celaena, would you like a drink before we head towards the dining room?” he asked her once they had greeted everybody.

“Uhm, sure, just a glass of water would be fine.”

“Really?” He scowled.

“Yes, that’s all I want for now. Get them to pour it in a flute if it makes you happier. You can even make it sparkling water. Fancier, you know.”

Dorian shook his head before walking away and leaving her in the middle of the room by herself. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Arobynn found his way to her side as fast as he did once Dorian was gone.

“Funny to see you here,” he whispered into her ear, casually standing next to her with a drink in his hand. 

“I could say the same,” she replied politely.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for a fight? I have a lot of money on tonight,” he said as he looked to the front, pretending he wasn’t talking to her.

“Don’t worry, you won’t lose a dime.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at him sideways. 

Arobynn was wearing a black tuxedo with a black shirt and black bowtie. He was freshly shaved, and his hair was shorter than the last time she had seen him, which meant he was probably trying to impress someone; but who?

“Let’s just hope things don’t go sour like last time.”

Celaena turned to look at him nimbly, but Arobynn was already walking away, getting lost between the crowd.

“Are you okay?” Dorian asked, reaching her at that moment, and passing her a flute of sparkling water with a slice of lemon inside. “Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yes, fine. Let’s go find our table, my feet are sore already.”

“Sure thing, this way.”

Dorian guided her between the crowd, saying a few words here and there to people she didn’t pay any attention to. Plates came and went, and she cut food up and shoved it into her mouth without really tasting it. She said her piece when people talked to her, and stared at the stage as strangers gave out speeches. But the whole time, Arobynn’s words were playing back in her mind.

Sam couldn’t have told him anything; Sam hadn’t even known.

And Arobynn had acted like he didn’t know anything about it during the weekend, so what had changed? Had anything even changed, or was Arobynn playing with her? He was seated on a table towards the back, and she could barely see his figure from so far away. She had glanced his way a few times, but all she could see was his profile, and the long dark hair from the lady sitting next to him.

Once the time for her to leave came, she purposely walked past his table and caught the lady as she was standing up and walking out of the room. She was wearing a silver gown that hugged her curves nicely and watching her from behind, she could have been anywhere between 20 and 40 years old. Celaena tried to follow the woman but lost her in the lobby as she walked into the women's bathroom. She considered going into the bathroom for a fraction of a second, but she was running out of time and she couldn’t afford to be late. 

She walked out of the venue and found her motorbike parked at the back, where Sam had left it for her. She lifted the seat and pulled out her black leggings, then put them on under the dress, and folded the dress up as much as she could manage. She closed her jacket over the dress covering most of it and pulled her hair up in a low ponytail. She rode over to the fighting pit, where Sam would be waiting for her with the full change of clothes. At least, she already had her mask on and didn’t need to worry about makeup or hiding her identity any further. 

The Fossa was already packed when she arrived, and the crowd was going wild. Celaena nodded at Connall as she walked through the back door, who barely nodded back. She didn’t see either Rowan nor Fenrys as she made her way to the backroom; not like she was looking for them anyway.

Sam handed her the duffle bag as soon as she walked in and she sneaked into the changing rooms. Luckily, there was a women’s changing room that was always empty, where she got rid of the dress and put on a short-sleeved red top. She was done with black, she was out of the shadows, she was fire, and she would live up to the name.

“Ready?” Sam asked as she walked back into the room and scanned the small crowd. To her surprise -and delight- Cain was nowhere to be seen.

“Always.” 

“Good, because I think you’re up first.”

“Great. By the way, the mask suits you.” She laughed at Sam’s annoyed look; the black mask was similar to hers and looked hilarious on Sam. But it was a necessary measure now that they knew someone from school was lurking around the pits too. If Lorcan recognized either of them, they could potentially get into a lot of shit. It was better if neither of them could be traced back to the school and stayed anonymous. The masks didn’t conceal the whole of their faces, but it was enough to make them harder to recognize to strangers. Or so she hoped.

Fenrys poked into the back room as Celaena was still laughing at Sam’s expression, and looked straight at her with a serious look on his eyes. 

“Fireheart, you’re up.” He turned his gaze towards Sam for a moment, and then turned around and was out of the room. She followed him out, and they walked the short hall towards the stage.

“Missed me?” Fenrys whisper-yelled as they walked, the crowd roaring around them.

“Not at all.” She kept her eyes on the stage, her chin up, not looking at the crowd.

“Was that your mysterious boyfriend?”

“None of your business.”

“So sassy, I love it. Good luck, girl.”

They reached the stage, and she looked at him for a fraction of a second. “I’m not your girl, and I don’t need luck.” She finished with a wink and jumped onto the platform. 

While her rival jumped onto the stage too, she looked around the crowd quickly. No woman was lurking in the shadows, and there was no sign of Rowan anywhere around the venue either. She spotted Lorcan far away, minding the crowd close to the customer’s entrance; and then the fight started.

She was back to her usual self, and she felt fast and confident as she danced around the stage, giving the crowd the show they had paid for. After the suffering she had endured after the last fight, she wasn’t looking for a clean and quick fight, she was eager to get her hands dirty, to make someone suffer. She was merciless, she was ash, and smoke, and embers. She was blazing, and no one could beat her. Fireheart punched and kicked, sidestepped and twirled, blocked and jabbed. She was unstoppable, and by the time the fight was over, there wasn’t a single new bruise on her body.

“That was impressive,” Fenrys said as she jumped down, the crowd roaring so loud that she could barely hear him. She scoffed as she walked right past him, and kept walking towards the back room.

“I was just warming up.”

#throne of glass fanfic #tog fanfic #fireheart #chapter twenty three #aelin #nehemia #sam cortland #fenrys moonbeam

[ashley-ghuleh]

Chapter 1: A Friend

(Little note, this is waaaay longer then I thought it would be. But I’m pretty happy with it, here’s to just writing to have fun~<3)

In which a Phoenix befriends a Crow. And the roaring Fire is to meet the Icy Sea.

High school for the rich, some think it would be nicer than a middle class school. Nice kids from prestigious families with good standing reputations. Those people are wrong, rich schools are just as bad if not worse than those of anything lower than them.

Rude kids who were living either spoiled lives with parents who gave them everything they’ve ever wanted.

Or kids coming from homes where they feel smothered by the ‘charitable acts’ their family was known for, or how controlling their parents could be.

And then the kids who didn’t have it so rough who rebelled no matter, just wanting to cause trouble for fun, showing up for school properly dressed and disheveling themselves once in the building without a care if a teacher scolded them, though most teachers have given up on this type of student and their stubborness.

But not all students who acted or dressed this way came from a household that was normal or standard for a rich family. Some who did this came from a place like, The Kohle family.

When it came to higher power in a society of nothing but fake suits and dresses.

The Kohle’

A house made of a mother and father like most were, Elizabeth Grace Kohle Heiress to the original bloodline of Kohle, and James Kohle, formally James McKnight though when he married into the family he had taken the Kohle name in place for his given name as to gain further power from the title. This family on the outside looks picture perfect. Seven kids, six boys and one girl, blessed with many children to continue on the family name. Two loving parents to care for the kids and bring their family to greatness. But under the picture of a ‘perfect’ family portrait lies the full unedited truth. Seven kids, six boys and one girl, six prodigal children and one black sheep. It wasn’t easy being the disappointment, but it was a dirty job and somebody had to do it, and that somebody was Marcus Kohle, born fourth before the twins, his father’s only hated child and his mother’s favorite. 

Being babied and spoiled by his mother and disregarded or shunned by his father and other siblings his father has turned against him, happened to be what shaped this tiny rebel.

Marcus looked like any normal teenager going into school, but these students wouldn’t know this was his fifth transfer for fighting and being an all around troublemaker. 

He walked through the halls remembering the short tour, his school uniform tidy and neat, his hair nicely styled as his mother had done for him before he left that morning, everything in its place. 

Until he stepped through the doors, heading right to the locker rooms. Changing into black beat up combat boots and then ruffling up his hair so it hung perfectly a mess, while undoing the buttons on his uniform dress shirt and loosening his tie to hang lazily around his neck. Walking out he strolled with his bag to his locker ready to cause some chaos.

Those feeling suffocated by the bosom of their parent’s cloaked public affection were like Ashley Carter.

The Carter’

This home was built on a steady arranged marriage of two high school sweethearts, David Carter and Adela Guilani now Adela Guilani-Carter. She kept her maiden name so if things got ugly she could easily drop the hyphenated last name of her husband. Two ‘loving’ parents of course, who were blessed with a single gifted daughter. 

Being born with birth defects that stunned the two parents had been such a reputation concern, that they announced the birth of their daughter without showing her face. The doctor had said Ocular Albinism didn’t run in the family lineage as far as they could find, it just happened to be a rare occurrence.

Rare she was, Ashley Carter was an oddity in a world of normalcy that her parents tried to force upon her. Once she had hit 14 she didn’t care much anymore.

She was the family disappointment, a disgrace to the family name and she would never be what her parents wanted for an heir or a child.

This torn family dynamic wasn’t lost on most other families, some of them were sympathetic, giving the pale eyed girl a safe place to decompress and feel as though nothing or no one could do anything to her, they couldn’t touch her in these safe havens.

Walking into school, she was in her school uniform of course. Hair tied up in high ponytail and her uniform skirt pulled up some to show off her knees as well as her top two blouse buttons undone and her cherry red converse squeaked softly as she trudged to her locker, another day of torture was all she could think.

But she didn’t know that she was about to make the friend that would fight for her till the end.

Some of her friends met up with her to walk to the lockers, chatting softly as she would adjust her sunglasses, the indoor/outdoor lenses for these ones taking a little longer than usual to switch over.

Ashley looked the same as she did the year prior, but with this new year and being a year older, she had changed her looks a bit, having decided she was done hiding she no longer wore her colored contacts to hide her eyes and the most outrageous part of her new look was her new hair color.

Kids from other classes and her own watched her walk by, chest length hair that was now a bold fiery red, Ashley was tired of hiding, wanting to be seen for the girl she could and would be. This new color caused her ‘poor’ mother to faint and her father to demand her to “Wash it out! Now!” Only for the recently rebellious teen to reply with, “ It’s permanent. And no~”

The colors resembled the many hidden within a burning flame, reds, oranges and even some soft pinks, yellowy oranges, all laid out with the best strategies to make her unnatural hair color look.. Well natural. It made her skin seem paler but brought out the color of her freckles, her eyes though always milky crystal seemed to be brighter in a sense.

Closing in on their destination, Ashley and her friends slowed to see a new student being cornered by the lockers, the red haired girl’s happened to be the one this boy’s back was pressed to. “ Hey! I said to say something funny, you're the new foreign kid right? I bet you got a fucking hilarious voice and accent! Go on skinny, say something!” This teasing voice, that was oh so grating on Ashley’s ears made her groan, it belonged to a boy she hasn’t been able to stand since they met at the age of 10, “ Tommy. Fucking. Wilson.” She grumbled now standing before said boy, a born jock through and through. It was like in the dna for that family or something. He would’ve been handsome if he didn’t act so ugly.

“Ashley Carter~ Finally ready to submit to me and become my girlfriend.” The new student against the locker, snorted with a sharp inhale before snickering. “ She’s way out of your league.” His voice was soft, masculine for a 14 year old boy and oddly feminine in an angelic satisfying way. 

The two girls that had been walking with Ashley giggled at the remark and not so much the strange European accent he had and tried to fight around.

Tommy and his two friends looked confused and then shrugged it off. “ I changed my mind, totally thought that you would sound funny but you don’t and honestly..” He narrowed his eyes at the new boy. “ The sound of your voice makes me wanna punch you.” He brought his fist up and Ashley stepped in, smacking Tommy on the back of the head, while he reacted she spoke, glaring down at him. “ If you lay a finger on him, I’ll remind you of what I did when you messed with Cecilia’s lunch and fed her meat. Knowing full well she went vegetarian.” The young jock’s eyes widened at the idea and he straightened himself out and dusted his shirt off. “ Well.. I guess-” “ You're just going to let a girl scare you?” Came the squeaky voice of another boy in Tommy’s little friend group.

Ashley stepped forward putting more heat into her gaze while taking her sunglasses off to show fully the anger in her murky eyes. “ Test your luck punk.” She hissed before the small gaggle of boys and Tommy became legitimately scared and ran off down the hall pushing passed students as they went.

The new boy stood up and sighed, running his hand through his messy hair, “ They didn’t hurt you did they?” Came a sweet soft voice belonging to a beautiful girl only describable as looking like a picture of a blond bombshell girl, the little accessories she wore and her vintage looking makeup were perfect replicas of most early war propaganda posters from the 50s. “ I’m fine thanks..” He said softly trying to not talk too loud, any louder than he was his accent would slip.

“I’m Cecilia, you can call me Cici~” She held out her hand, cocking a brow. He took it and shook it weirdly, clearly uncomfortable.

A tall raven haired girl on Ashley’s other side grinned and gave a tiny two finger wave. “ I’m Lilith. Call me Lili or Li'l.” He nodded at her before looking at Ashley whole nodded at him. “ I’m Ashley. Also the girl who just saved your little tush. What’s your name, new kid?” She asked while getting into her locker and arranging her things and grabbing what she’d need for her class.

He grumbled something under his breath and then sighed through his nose. “ Marcus.. Kohle..” Cecilia jumped and gasped. “ Holy shit! Like the Kohle family from Germany that owns and operates a huge oil rig branch?!?” Groaning the new kid, Marcus, nodded and rubbed his forehead.

“Don’t remind me please.” He sighed, Lilith and Ashley both nudged Cici who shrugged and flailed a bit, “ S-sorry sugar.. Didn’t mean to upset you. So! You guys just moved here right? You're gonna need some friends!” She giggled, smiling brightly. Ashley nodded, “ Yea, and it might as well be us if you're gonna survive in this jungle. Especially if you want to avoid conflict with Tommy.” Marcus grinned and laughed coldly. “ I was doing my best.. Not to hit him.” Lilith nodded.

“Steer clear of him if you can kid, he packs a punch..” Ashley snorted and shut her locker, “ When he can land one. My depth perception is clinically off by birth and can aim a hit better. Tommy couldn’t hit the broad side of a cow with a banjo.” She quipped while looking down slightly at Marcus. “ What class do you have first?” The german boy looked at his curriculum list. “ English li-....” He frowned at the word he was obviously having a hard time with. Cecilia peeked over his shoulder and saw it, “ English literature.. Not to be rude, hun, but I’m guessing your English reading is..” She raised a worried brow and Marcus frowned deeper and flapped his hand back and forth, the three girls looked at each other and nodded. “ It's okay, we’re all in that class with you, so we’ll help you. We’re friends now! So we’re gonna do what friends do best and help each other~” Cecilia giggled, her giggles were infectious and Marcus smiled softly, Ashley looked down at him taking him in for a moment, small and thin as a whip. His hair was messy and was a rich, dark black, it was so dark it had a soft tint of an iridescent shine like crow feathers. His face was sharp, feminine. His skin was almost sickly pale, but his eyes were what stood out to her.

Deep, blue oceanic eyes. They looked tired, obvious by the deep set circles under them, but she found herself feeling like she was falling into a dark blue void, swirling through an angry whirlpool in the temperamental sea. Even with how emotionally exhausted he looked, his eyes held this intense energy to them.

Ripped from her thoughts by her friends, she looked to see if they noticed she had spaced out, Marcus didn’t notice, neither did the girls, Lilith was running her fingers through Marcus’ messy tresses. “ Your hair is so cool.. It reminds me of a crow~” She grinned, the foreign boy nodded his thanks softly. “Oh! Oh! Our little friend group is complete! We’ve got the sassy Italian’s,” She giggled, waving at herself and Lilith, “ I’m Italian too..” Ashley pouted, “ Yes, but now we also have.” She sang that ‘a’ to draw it out while shoving Marcus and Ashley shoulder to shoulder, “ The phoenix and the crow~” The blond bubbled and grinned brightly.

The two looked at each other and then shrugged, “ Works for me. Just don’t be calling me that around others.” He grumbled though wasn’t actually grumpy about it, Ashley nodded, “ I mean I like it but it's a little… Stage name-y? How about something more subtle for general use?”

Marcus looked up at her and immediately spoke before anyone else could. “ Ash.” He stated plainly. “ Phoenix's rise from ashes, reborn into the world. Becoming greater with every rebirth.” He said with a bored tone almost like it was so obvious before adding on, “ Plus it's her name but shortened.. I am foreign but not dumb.”

The girls all laughed and smiled at the boy’s antics, he was going to be a lot of fun to get to know and hang out with. Already each girl held special places in their hearts for this precious kid and wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

“Well gang.. We better get to class before Professor Davidson comes searching for us.” Groaning at the idea they made sure they all had everything including Marcus and went onto class.

Walking down the hallway were four new best friends, and two who would stand up for the other no matter the scenario. Beautiful bonds were made between the Phoenix, and the Crow. 

But the two thought, how would the intense Fire handle meeting the Freezing Sea, that’s been raging for centuries?

That’s something they’ll find out together. As they would do so, with many things to come.

#AshleyGhulehWriting #my original characters #Unedited writing I'm just going for it #writing for fun