#i’m getting clean again and life is boring sober someone distract me

[multifandomgurl]

The Unusual

   A/N- In my opinion, this was the best smut I’ve ever written and I hope you like it too :) We are such a simp for Ellie Williams ya’ll :)  You also can send me requests, don’t be shy <3 I’m sorry If there are any grammar mistakes, I’ll try to come back and correct them.

   Warnings- SMUT, Modern!Ellie, drink of alcohol, fingering, dirty talking.

   Request from- Anonymous

   Summary- After their meeting at the bar, what is usual for Reader and Ellie gets boring after a while and they decide to do something a little unusual.

   A blinding light from the window shone into the room where you slept. The pain between your legs was enough to bother you more than ever, but you laid still and let the morning sun hit your face. You turned your head in that direction with the rustle coming from your side and you couldn't help your grin both because you saw the person you saw and because you remembered that wonderful moment you had last night.

         A WEEK AGO

   Again, when you went to the bar you always go to, this time there was a little movement in it. In this place where you went to clear your mind, you met a lot of people and learned more stories than you wanted to know. Sometimes you had to choose between many people, but you could not find the right one for you.   Could such a thing have happened that day?

  When you entered the bar, you laughed inwardly as the familiar smell hit your nose. Maybe it was a little silly, but everyone had different ways of distracting them. Yours wasn't a one night stand. You had never even tried this. You thought the important thing was to find someone you could feel safe with.

  You stood in the bar chair to get a drink, stood out from the crowd, and looked around as you couldn't quite decide what you wanted to get. Everyone was having their own fun. When you looked a little more carefully, you saw that no one came here alone. You would give anything to come with your friends, but they had more important things to do. At least that's what they told you.

 “Hey. Ready to order yet? “Y ou turned your head towards the sound and you were almost speechless by that perfect face you saw. Your hands tangled, and you accidentally knocked the finished glass which the man beside you had. You silently cursed yourself. The red-haired girl laughed at you. You looked at her and saw that she was busy cleaning the glass in her hand. You laughed embarrassingly and decided to have your usual drink so you wouldn't keep her waiting any longer.

 " What. Uhm the usual, please? “ There was a problem that this girl had just started a job here and she didn't know what drink you were talking about. She frowned, but didn't seem to mind at all, as she immediately grinned and leaned over the table. “What about I give you my usual?”  You nodded your head and watched in surprise as she took the drink . You have never seen a girl as attractive as this girl in all your life.

  She placed the drink in front of you and, winking at you, moved to the side to take her next customer's order. When you looked at the drink, it was clear that you were not going to spend the night alone anymore. The girl, who hadn't even told you her name yet, looked at you from time to time, checking how you got the drink out of the corner of her eye. When you caught her staring at you, she smiled shyly with her perfect dimple and went back to her work. Your night was going to be great. You were sure of that.

     LAST NIGHT

   You tried to go to the bar almost every day after meeting the red-haired girl, but all this college stuff was throwing you off. It was getting harder for you to do the assignment given to you without being sober, but luckily, you somehow finished them all, or rather you had them done, and the only thing left was that you owed a meal to the people you had them do. It wasn't much of a problem either, you weren't really interested in school anyway. If there' was one thing you were really into right then, it was that bartender whose name you finally learned. Ellie.

   You had a more than good relationship with Ellie. After the bar closed, you or she were always so busy telling each other things that you didn't even know how the time passed. Sometimes one of you said something embarrassing and you blushed up your ass, but you got used to it. Ellie was a really nice person. Although what he's been through isn't very good. You loved her. You actually thought there was something more than something. Maybe love?

  You drank as you spoke , even drank to the hilt, and didn't hesitate to do silly things. It's like you were made for each other. The way Ellie looked at you in those eyes was so deep, longing and eager that you couldn't help yourself. She had no intention of keeping it to her either.

 That evening, you happily entered the bar again, with the comfort of finishing your homework. Before you walk right in, you take a look at yourself in the mirror and rejoice at how sexy you look. Impressing Ellie was easier than you thought.   It had already been so easy for her to influence you, which was an indisputable issue. Since the moment you saw the girl, or rather every time you saw her, your palms were sweating madly and you were trying hard not to jump on her.

  Sensual and insane.

  You quickened your steps towards where she was, but it wasn't that easy from the people dancing around you. You wanted to go to her right away and explain why you didn't come yesterday. You sat down on the chair in disappointment when you looked to the side where she always stood and saw that she wasn't even there, that there was no one in her place. However, you wanted this evening to be different from other evenings. You looked around with hope.

  "Lookin' for me, babe? “ Your eyes widened at her voice and you almost jumped on her, but that was not possible because of the table in front of you. If you had done something like that, you would probably have gone to the ground with embarrassment. “ Where were you? “ He shrugged his shoulders and waved her hand as saying never mind.

   “ Usual? “ “ Yeah, but your usual. I- I want yours. “ She nodded and quickly prepared the drink and placed it in front of you. This attraction between you was driving you crazy, you wanted it more and more each time. You wanted to explain yourself. “ I had some work to do yesterday, so- “ “ It's okay. You don't have to explain yourself to me.” 

  You took a sip of your drink and nodded at her understanding. You didn't even know exactly what was going on between you guys, and what was this willingness to explain yourself? You may have been nothing more than a friend to her, but at the same time, it didn't feel that way at all. Maybe you were having such thoughts in your head. You couldn't even taste the drink you were drinking properly anymore because of the tingling in your stomach. With a grimace, you pushed the drink away from you. “Hey. What- what about doing something different tonight? I mean If you want to. “ She smiled and nodded as her beautiful dimples came out.

  “Yeah, of course babe. “ You were used to her calling you babe, it didn't seem like anything different anymore. She started saying this word the day after you met, but each time it aroused different feelings in you. It's like the pain you feel in your lower side. Every time you tried to ignore it,  was difficult as Ellie talked or touched somewhere on you. You didn't want this night to be the usual. You wanted tonight to be different.

  “ Well, let's not drink the usual one then If we're doing the different things.”

 In a sexy stride that makes you feel like it's slow motion ,she leaned in front of the table, leaned close to your ear, and in a sexy voice, she said "Let our bodies talk If we're doing the unusual, baby. " . She bit your earlobe without pulling back. You shuddered and your eyes opened wide at what he said. That's when you realized that your feelings were not reciprocated. You were happy about this and with the excitement and some joy inside you started to wait for the closing of the bar with excitement.

  After a few hours of waiting, it was finally the closing time of the bar and almost everyone had left. Ellie had taken you and herself to her apartment above the bar to change, and you were watching her take off her clothes on the edge of her bed. She was moving slowly again, but you couldn't really stand it anymore.   The pain under you was growing more and more, it was making you squirm badly.

 Just as she was taking off her pants, you jumped on her and quickly pushed her onto the bed. You pulled off the trousers that she had taken off in half and took them off her feet and immediately started to take off your own top. She put her hands on top of your, tooking off your shirt, tossed it aside to be not found in the morning. Her eyes lit up when she saw your breasts overflowing from the edge of your bra. She lifted her head from the bed and  sucked on there, turning you into a whirlwind with little kisses. “ Fuck baby you're so fuckin' beautiful and you're mine, right? “ You nooded your head and kissed her as you leaned down on her and moaned to her lips. Your kiss was soft but sensual. It was almost unbearable, and you both knew it.

 “ I want to fuck you, Ellie. “ “You and me both , babygirl. “ You groaned against her word. You split both of Ellie's legs, kissing both of them separately before coming to her clit. It was like she was writhing on you. You are satisfied. You quickly peeled off her panties from her leg and buried your mouth there in no time. “Fuck, baby your mouth. Fuck it's so good. “ She ran her fingers through your hair and made you press yourself against her. You pulled your mouth out of there and spit on your fingers and stuck two fingers in her hole without practice.    Although she cried out in pain, she got used to it later and this time she started to moan with pleasure.

  “Y/N, I don't wanna come yet. Please let me fuck you too. “ Without raising your mouth too much, you said ” Me first, Ellie. I want to devour you. You're so tasty. “

 “ I want to know how you taste too, baby. Please. “ You groaned and let her lay you on your back.

  You can't remember when you got so undressed and came close to having an orgasm, but the best orgasm of your life was about to await you.

   She sat with her legs spread out and took you in her lap. You brought your hands to her beautiful little face and deepened your kiss. You took your place by her leg and started rubbing yourself on her. “Yes babygirl, keep goin'. Good girl. “   Saying these things only made you go faster. Her leg was terribly wet, but she didn’t even care.

  When she least expected it, you stuck your fingers in her hole as you continued to kiss her. She groaned and thrust her hips against your fingers, which also made your leg wobble, making it even easier for you to rub. You were so close. Your moans and pleasure screams filled the room.

   “Fuck baby. Yess. Come on. Cum for me. “

   “Ellie!” you shouted, mixed with a moan. “I can't no more. “

   “I know baby. Cu-Cum for me. “

  After that, you both came convulsively. Your legs were sore and cramped from too much rubbing. Ellie had already thrown herself  into bed and she was out of breath. You laughed and got on top of her. After placing one last small kiss on her lips, you wrapped your arms around each other and surrendered yourself to sleep.

#the last of us remake #the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagine #ellie williams #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie the last of us #tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou part ii #tlou modern au #modern au #smut #tlou remake #joel miller #joel miller x reader #request #joel x reader #joel x you #ellie x dina #tlou imagine #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #x reader

[illegal-spiegel]

smoky ink

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader Genre: fluff, crack?, vague smut Warnings: drunken tattoos w Denki, groping Summary: Playing truth or dare with Denki while you were drunk ends up being a huge mistake when you get a tattoo of something from one of your favorite heroes on your ass.  Word Count: 4k words A/N: Happy birthday, boom boom boy!!🥳❤️

1k Followers Event prompt #34 “Do I have to pull down my pants to show you?”

In hindsight, you should’ve known better than to play truth or dare with Denki while you were both drunk. Honestly, it’s your fault for giving in and playing the dumb game with him, again, while you’re drunk. 

“Truth or dare?” he asks, a sly smirk on his face. You’ve been picking truth this whole time, but you can only do truths five times before you’re out of truths. 

Deciding to just go ahead and get it over with, you sigh and give him a bored look as you say in the blandest voice possible, “Dare.”

He pretends to think about it as if he didn’t already know what he was going to dare you to do since he first asked you to play. “Tell Bakugou that you like him or get a tattoo with me. A tattoo of my choosing,” he offers, the smirk getting worse the more he speaks. 

You should’ve known. You honestly would’ve texted him, told him, and then lied, and said Denki did it, but you didn’t like the idea of him even wondering if you actually liked him, that there was a possibility of it. What if he reacted badly before you could even explain what had happened? 

Yeah, no thanks. 

“Let’s go get a tattoo then,” you state boldly as you stand up off your bed, already slipping on your shoes, albeit very slowly thanks to the alcohol in your system. He pouts at you as he lets out a long groan, his body flopping back onto your bed. 

“You’re so boring!” he whines, slowly bringing himself up to glare at you. 

“Oh, so should I dare you to tell a certain someone that you like them?” you challenge, a smirk of your own coming to your face. His face goes pink at your words, his head shaking left and right rapidly after a moment. 

“No,” he mumbles, getting off your bed and putting on his own shoes. Once you two are ready to go, you open up your door and step out into the hallway. Just as you’re shutting your door behind you both, Bakugou emerges from the door down the hall that leads to the stairwell. You make eye contact with him before his eyes shift to Denki who is standing behind you. 

Just as your door clicks shut, Denki wraps his arm around your shoulders and starts leading you down the hall towards him. Bakugou doesn’t wait a moment longer before walking down the opposite hall towards his bedroom. You let out a soft sigh as you reach the top of the stairs, slowly starting to climb down them. 

“Don’t look so down! Midoriya probably just pissed him off again or something,” he reassures, bumping his shoulder into yours. You force a smile to your face and direct it at him, bumping him back. 

“Race ya!” you shout before taking off down the steps, almost tripping several times. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Denki roars, swiftly following after you. You laugh loudly as you take two steps at a time, trying to beat him to the bottom. You both jump at the end, landing on the floor almost at the same time. 

You’re not sure who won though. 

“Ha! I won!” Denki boasts loudly, throwing his arms into the air. This makes you scoff, your hands finding their way to your hips while you try to regain some of the air you lost into your lungs. 

“As if! I clearly won that!” you claim, unsure if you’re even right or not. You both go back and forth the entire way out of the building, only waving to people you pass as a greeting since you’re so involved in your argument. 

Once you’re outside, you wrap your arm around Denki’s neck and tug him down to give him a noogie. He shouts and tries to pull away, but you keep a strong hold on him. “I yield! I yield!” he shouts, finally making you let him go with a satisfied grin on your face. 

“That’s what I thought.”

You two walk to the closest tattoo and piercing parlor, both of you bubbling with nerves and excitement. As you walk in, you take in the place with innocent, round eyes. 

“Alright! I’ll pick out your tattoo and you can pick out mine!” Denki informs before taking off to the opposite end of the shop. You chuckle softly as you watch him go, starting to walk around to look for available tattoos.

You end up choosing a Pikachu one for him, feeling satisfied with your choice. You just hope he is serious about this and doesn’t choose something completely ridiculous. 

Once you both have your tattoos, you each hide the tattoo you picked out from the other as you meet back in the middle. “I found the perfect one,” you say confidently. He chuckles as he secretly looks down at his phone. 

“Oh, I think mine is much better,” he chirps. You squint your eyes at him in suspicion but ultimately let it go, walking over to the artist that will be tattooing you both. 

“You’re first,” you tell him, wanting to make sure that he’s going to actually go through with this instead of just making you get one on your own. After arguing back and forth a couple of minutes, he eventually gives in. 

“Fine, coward,” he jabs, slowly taking his seat. You decide to let him pick where he wants it, knowing that if you don’t, he’ll choose a terrible spot for you in return. He ends up getting it on his chest, deciding to put it right on his right pec. 

“No peeking,” you declare as you show the artist what he’s getting. Denki huffs as he peels his shirt off, laying back in the chair and tilting his head back to make sure he doesn’t peek. 

To your surprise, Denki doesn’t nearly complain as much as you thought he would. Sure, he grunts and flinches every once in a while but all in all, he just quietly sits there, quietly looking up at the ceiling as the mechanical sound of the needle thrumming fills the room. Well, that is until the tattoo is completed. “Jesus! That hurt more than a buttcheek on a stick!” he exhales dramatically, quoting a video that he saw forever and a half ago. 

“Alright, no peeking until mine is done,” you remind, laughing lightly at his words while you take your seat. Denki playfully salutes you before pulling out his phone to show the artist what you’re getting as they clean up the equipment, and you can’t help the nerves that start spiking out of nowhere. 

“Where do you want it?” 

“Um, how big is it?” you tentatively ask, hoping Denki wouldn’t do something extreme. The artist looks over to Denki, silently asking him how big he wanted the piece to be. Denki furrowed his eyebrows as he thought over it for a moment, before lifting his hand and making a circle with his thumb and index finger. 

“About this big, I’d say,” he ultimately says. The circle is about as big around as the diameter of his wrist. You let out an audible sigh as you try to figure out what the tattoo he planned for you was going to be. You wanted to have a little more faith in your friend, you really did, but it was hard when that friend was a total jokester like Denki.

“Can I just get it on my ass?” you ask softly, letting out an awkward laugh to mask just how nervous you truly felt, but it doesn’t quite give the effect you hoped it would. The artist simply nods as Denki starts cackling in response. 

“Seriously, (Y/n)? Have some faith in me!” he teases between chuckles, knowing you only wanted it there to hide it. You glare over at him, slowly taking off your pants before folding them up and placing them off to the side to be out of the way. You turn to lay on your stomach, trying to ignore how warm your cheeks were getting out of the embarrassment of the situation.

“Damn, (Y/n)! What you doin’ out here with all that ass?” Denki jokes, making your blush worsen as you quickly whip your head around to shoot him a hard stare.

“Stop being such a pig and come hold my hand!” you hiss, the look you’re give him turning to one of pure ice when he just laughs and rounds the table to come sit in front of you. He finally takes your hand with a smirk, kissing the back of it. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes at him as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the pain that you were about to endure. When the needle first makes contact with your skin, you jump a bit and tighten your grip on Denki’s hand. You fight villains almost every day of your life and have almost died on numerous occasions, and yet, this seemed to hurt worse in comparison. Though, this definitely helps you sober up somewhat. After a while, you start to get used to the pain of the needle making passes over your skin and start to feel your muscles relax a bit, Denki further helping you relax as he distracts you by talking away. 

Once your tattoo is finally done, you slowly stand up and waddle over to the mirror with Denki. “On three. One, two, three!” You count down before turning to look over your shoulder at the tattoo. 

“Woah! It looks so good! Thanks, (Y/n)!” Denki cheers. You can’t bring your eyes away from your left ass cheek though, your mouth not cooperating with your brain. 

Sitting there, on your skin forever, might you add, is a tattoo of Bakugou’s green gauntlets surrounded by tiny explosions and smoke. You’re not sure how to react at first but it comes to you quickly. 

“I’m going to kill you!” you shout, noticing that he is already running away. You chase after him, without pants, by the way, for a moment before the tattoo artist asks you both to calm down. You clench your jaw together while walking back over to the artist, letting them properly wrap up both your and Denki’s tattoos. The entire time you were glaring at Denki though, swearing to yourself that you’ll really kill him this time. 

“You must be a big fan of Dynamight’s,” the artist comments as he finishes wrapping up your tattoo, your face heating further at his comment while Denki does his best to hide his laughter, and failing miserably.

Once you both pay and are good to go, Denki rushes out of the shop with you trailing not too far behind as you start to chase after him again, both of you having a lot of pent-up energy from sitting down for so long. Once you finally catch up to him, you grab him by the collar of his shirt so he can’t escape while you prepare yourself to clobber him. But before you can get a good swing in, he lifts his hands up in surrender, offering to take you out for food in exchange for not hurting his precious face. You shove him with a scoff, his hand coming up to rub the spot where you grabbed his collar from. 

“Fine. You’re paying for everything though.” 

Humming contently as you lead the way to find a good place to eat nearby.

After getting a fill of some food, the both of you start walking back to the dorms, before realizing that it’s been long enough for you to take off the plastic wrap covering your tattoo. You’ll ignore it for now though, deciding that you’ll do it once you get back into your room. You’ll probably cover it up again after getting a picture of it just to make sure it doesn’t get infected though.

“I can’t wait for Bakubro to see your tattoo. He’ll finally know how much of a fan you are,” Denki teases you as you two near the dorms. Your face warms as you raise your hand to hit him with a shout, making him yelp and take off again. 

“Come back here, you gremlin!”

You chase him all the way back, cursing and shouting at him the entire time as you try to catch him. You’re panting for air by the time you come inside, trying to ignore the stares everyone is giving you. Denki is breathless from running but somehow still manages to laugh at your angry face. He crashes down into a seat beside Kirishima and leans against him for support. You glare daggers at him while you stomp on over, ready to throw hands with him. 

“What’s going on with you two?” Jiro asks with a raised brow, looking between you and the electric blonde.  

“Nothing!” You answer quickly, your face flaming with heat. No one can find out about your new tattoo. No one. 

“Awe come on, don’t be shy, (Y/n)!” Denki teases, wiping tears of joy away from his eyes. 

“Shut it, Denki!” you shout back, hitting his shoulder with as much force as you can muster. 

“Ow! Hey! Quit it!” he shouts before flicking your forehead. 

“No, you quit it!” you retort, flicking him right back. 

You two go back and forth until Bakugou, who you failed to notice until now, directs a glare at you both with a shout.

“Will the two of you extras shut up? Why are you even arguing in the first place?” he roars, making you both fall quiet. You, obviously, didn’t plan on answering that but you should’ve known that Denki would. 

“(Y/n) got a tattoo!” Denki screeches out before you can stop him, gathering everyone’s attention. 

“Did not! He did!” You shout right back, hoping no one can tell how flustered you are. 

“What? No way! You got a tattoo? Let me see it!” Mina gasps before clambering up to tug at your shirt collar and sleeves to try and find where it’s at. 

“I can’t!” 

“Yes, you can!” 

“I can’t, Mina!”

“Why not?” she whines, tugging on your shirt like a toddler now. You go quiet at that, trying to think of a good lie to tell her. 

“Because she got it on her ass!” Denki declares, making you whip around to glare at him. 

“Why you—” you start as you jump for him, his eyes widening as he quickly hops up to run away again. You can’t even chase after him either thanks to Mina grabbing your arm and dragging you towards your room with a few of the others you’re close with in tow. 

“I want to see it right now!” she shouts, almost making you trip from how fast she’s walking. Once in the safety of your room, you tug your pants down enough to show them your new tattoo. 

“Oh my god…”

“(Y/n)!”

“I can’t believe it!”

“I know. It’s terrib—” you start to say before someone else cuts you off.

“It’s so good!” 

“Yeah, it looks great!”

“What?” you ask in shock, feeling your jaw drop in surprise. Are they serious right now? It’s embarrassing! 

“It looks so good! I want to get one now!”

“Where did you go?” You can’t even take any of them seriously right now. 

“Guys, it’s a disaster!” Mina rolls her eyes at you, moving to sit on your bed as she looks at your tattoo again. 

“It is not. Stop being so dramatic.”

“I’m not! What if Bakugou finds out? He might kill me!” 

“If, (Y/n), if he finds out,” she replies with a smirk, leaning back on her hands. You stare at her for a long moment before slowly nodding your head back at her, your shoulders starting to relax. 

“Right, yeah, if he finds out,” you reply with a sigh, pulling your pants back up and laying down onto your bed with a sigh. 

What you all forgot about was a crucial detail though. That detail is a loudmouth blond who is one for drama and pranks. 

You don’t even realize you fell asleep until you hear swift knocking at your door. You groggily sit up and rub at your eyes, finding everyone is already gone. You must’ve fallen asleep sometime after laying down and they let themselves out. 

You bring yourself out of your short daze when the knocking swiftly returns much louder this time. “Yeah, I heard you the first time!” you quip as you climb out of bed, mad that you’ve been woken up from such a nice sleep. 

When you open the door, Bakugou is the last one you would’ve thought to be on the other side. You silently gape at him for a second, having trouble finding what to say. A simple ‘hello’ would’ve been fine, but you couldn’t even muster that up. 

Your eyes widen further when he pushes past you into your room, your eyes finally blinking. “Sure, come on in,” you mumble sarcastically and close the door, turning to face him only to find him already staring at you. 

“Is it true?” he asks vaguely, your half-asleep brain still trying to fully wake up and process what’s going on. 

“What?” is all you can find to say in response. 

“Is it true you got a tattoo of me?” he further asks, his eyes staring deeply into yours to gouge your reaction. All at once, you become a blushing and stuttering mess. 

“What? No! Of course not! Who gave you that crazy idea?” you sputter, pressing yourself back against the door. 

“Denki did. He told me that you two went to go get them earlier,” Bakugou further explains, taking a step closer to you. The room suddenly feels too warm for your liking, the air becoming dry in your lungs. 

“Well, Denki is a liar…” you mumble, looking away from him. You make a mental note to literally kill Denki later. 

“Show me.”

“What?” you ask, your eyes snapping back to his face to find that he is quite serious. 

“Show me the tattoo,” he demands, his voice becoming a tad bit softer than before. You gulp at his commanding voice, starting to shake your head and press yourself further into the door. 

“No.”

“Why not?” he asks, his brows knitting together. Why does he seem surprised?

“Because I can’t,” you explain, watching his brows now furrow downward. 

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Bakugou, I can’t. Just let it go,” you reply with a sigh, looking away from his eyes once more to look down at his shoes. 

“No, I’m not letting it go. It’s of me anyway, isn’t it? You’re required to show me,” he pushes, taking another step towards you and getting into your personal bubble. 

You place your hands onto your hips with a huff and shift your gaze to his, glaring up at him. “Do I have to pull down my pants to show you to get you to shut up?” you hiss, feeling your face become as hot as an inferno. 

He crosses his arms over his chest and glares down at you. “I guess you have to,” he sasses, making you angrily frown at him. 

“Fine!” you snap before turning around and tugging your pants just far enough to reveal your tattoo. You don’t hear him say anything or even gasp, your heartbeat in your ears the only sound that you can hear. You wearily look over your shoulder to look at him, your breath catching in your throat when you see the look on his face.

His eyes have drooped and become half-lidded as he stares down at it, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You don’t dare speak, afraid that if he turns that look onto you, you won’t be able to control yourself. 

You don’t have to speak though since he can feel your heavy gaze on him. When his eyes shift up to meet yours, you wonder if he actually stopped breathing or if your mind is playing tricks on you. His eyes go back down though and a gasp rips out of you when his warm fingers gently graze over the tattoo. 

“Why?” he suddenly asks, your frazzled mind barely catching what he said. Your brain is deciding to focus more on how his fingers don’t seem to be leaving your ass anytime soon. 

“Why what?” you stutter out, followed by a gulp when his other hand moves to gently clasp your hip. 

“Why do you have a tattoo of me on your ass?” he whispers into your ear, his body heat radiating through you to your very core. You shiver and turn your head forward again, pressing your forehead to the wall to help ground yourself. 

“Denki picked it out,” you explain, sucking your lip into your mouth. He grunts at your answer and pulls away from you, making you turn around to face him in search of his touch again. 

“Denki? That’s it? No other reason?” he asks, his eyes not meeting yours. Your brows knit together at his question, your mind racing at what he could have possibly wanted to hear. It couldn’t be-

“Well, he’s technically not the only reason,” you mumble, distracting yourself by looking off to the side where a picture of the gang rests on your bedside table. You remember that day like it was yesterday. You all had decided to go to the beach and the picture was taken right as the sun hit the water on the horizon. You got a stranger to take the photo for you and Denki had shoved you and Bakugou together. By looking at the picture, you can just remember how warm your face had gotten being pressed against his side like that. It only got hotter when he had wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“So what’s the other reason then?” he asks, stepping to the side to block your vision from whatever you were staring at. 

“Why do you think?” you quip. 

“I’m guessing it’s because you have a fat crush on Dynamight,” he teases, his usual smirk finding its way onto his lips. 

“Maybe I do, what about it?” you sass, giving him your own smirk, even though you’re secretly dying on the inside from embarrassment.

“Well, it’s a good thing he likes you back, seeing as how you got a tattoo of him on your ass,” he bluntly replies, forcing his way into your personal space once more, but this time he presses his front against yours. 

You both stare into the other’s eyes, trying to decipher what the other’s next move is going to be. Almost at the same time, you both surge forward and smash your mouths together. The kiss unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, a new fire igniting in both of you. It’s quite sloppy, your teeth gnashing together and angrily biting the other’s bottom lip. 

His rough hands squeeze your hips as he pulls you closer to his body, grinding himself into you. One hand wanders and immediately heads for the tattoo that you hid from him after he first touched it. He aggressively kneads the cheek without the tattoo, tracing over the image under your jeans with his other hand. 

“Mind if I get a better look at it?” he breathlessly inquires, his hooded eyes meeting yours. Instead of verbally responding, you connect your lips together once more, urging his hands to the front of your jeans to tug them back down your legs again. He does so with ease, only pulling away from your hips to peel them down your legs. He cups you through your underwear, giving a low chuckle when you let out a whimper.

“More,” you beg, impatiently tugging your underwear down just enough for him to see how ready you are for him. He lets out a satisfied hum and brings his hands down to your bare ass to give each cheek a firm squeeze, being mindful of the tattoo that’s towards the top. A loud whine escapes you before you can trap it, his lips finding their way to your neck. 

“Why don’t you lie down on the bed on your hands and knees to give me a better view of that tattoo?” he mumbles against your skin, his ears being met by a complying moan in response.

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[foxghost]

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 109

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 24 (Part 4)

Lang Junxia swings his leg over the horse’s back in the dark, and hurriedly leaves as the rest of them stare off after him.

Out of the four, Zheng Yan is the only one looking battered and exhausted. He’s plainly the least involved, yet he’s spent all night running around, swimming one moment and getting injured the next, even jumping into the river twice.

“Come over to my house and let’s get you bandaged,” Duan Ling says.

Zheng Yan hums an agreement absentmindedly, clearly still thinking about something. Duan Ling notices that all of them are out of sorts, though the one who really ought to be preoccupied has to be himself. Wu Du still seems pretty normal, but Chang Liujun and Zheng Yan look like they’re sleepwalking. Duan Ling gives Chang Liujun a pat on the back. “Hey, Chang Liujun? You alright?”

“Just leave me alone!” Chang Liujun flies off the handle.

Chang Liujun has clearly had one too many surprises, and he can’t even walk straight anymore. First it’s Mu Qing getting kidnapped, and him spending most of the night on edge over it, then it’s the crown prince being taken hostage, and finally right before Amga left, he threw them a bolt out of the blue. All this has left him in a state of extreme shock.

But he doesn’t ask any questions at all. As soon as he returns to the estate, he leaves them to report to Mu Kuangda. Duan Ling had been drunk earlier, and the situation changed too quickly; it took him almost an hour of getting windblown by the river before he sobered up and began to feel terrified about the evening well after the fact. He must sort out everything he has learned as soon as possible, for too much has happened this evening.

Once they step through the door, Duan Ling goes looking for an ointment while Zheng Yan ignores them and sits down. “Bring me some wine.”

Meanwhile, Duan Ling gives Wu Du’s chest a pat, and Wu Du nods back at him to let him know he still has the stuff. “I’ll head over to the estate and find him some wine to drink.”

Zheng Yan strips himself down to the waist, leaving his robe bundled up around his waist, revealing an expanse of pale muscle; he’s still deep in thought.

Duan Ling gets the ointment ready and kneels down at his side, planning to apply it to his wounds. “How did you get hurt?”

“Got hit with a sabre underwater,” Zheng Yan replies absentmindedly. He seems rather distracted.

Out of the four assassins, Wu Du held back and bided his time through the entire affair, Chang Liujun didn’t draw his sword, while Lang Junxia dallied over how Cai Yan was on one side and Duan Ling was on the other. Only Zheng Yan threw all his strength behind saving this “crown prince” as though his life depended on it. Why did you work so hard to save him? What did Cai Yan ever give you?

Of course he wasn’t given anything; Zheng Yan had merely fulfilled his duty. Duan Ling did think that the first to jump into the river when Cai Yan fell in would be Lang Junxia; he never thought Zheng Yan would be the one to jump in without any hesitation. As he thinks about this Duan Ling can’t help but feel a bit moved; it may have seemed like the one Zheng Yan saved was Cai Yan, but in reality the one he carried out of the water was actually Duan Ling himself.

Zheng Yan is immersed in his thoughts, a deep furrow forming between his brows. Duan Ling knows that he must have heard what Amga said before he left, and he’s meditating on it now. Has he had some inkling that something isn’t quite right? Duan Ling isn’t sure whether Zheng Yan knows his dad or not, and whose side he’s really on.

Before Duan Ling does anything else, he cleans Zheng Yan’s wound, swollen and pale from all the time it spent in the water. Then he grabs a plate and dissolves the medicinal powder in the ointment. Finally pulling himself back to the present, Zheng Yan turns and stares unblinkingly at Duan Ling.

“What did Amga say in the end?” Zheng Yan says suddenly, “When I came out of the water all I heard was splashing water and I didn’t quite catch it.”

Duan Ling falls silent for a moment before he says, “I didn’t quite catch it either. Let’s take off your glove.”

Zheng Yan puts his hand on the table, and Duan Ling slides his finger under the edge of the glove to take it off. It’s woven with thin silk-like strands of metal, presumably for catching concealed weapons and fighting hand-to-hand against a blade. There’s a black-inked white tiger tattoo in ancient script on the back of Zheng Yan’s hand.

It’s this tattoo again; Lang Junxia’s tattoo is on his arm, Wu Du’s tattoo is on his neck, while Chang Liujun’s tattoo is on his face.

Noticing that Duan Ling has caught sight of his tattoo, Zheng Yan gives him another look.

“It’s the same as Wu Du’s.” Duan Ling leaves the glove in a wooden basin to dry, and cleans Zheng Yan’s arm and palm with a dry cloth before applying ointment.

“Did Chang Liujun catch what he said?” As though he’s turned into someone else, Zheng Yan says coldly.

“I think … he may have caught it.”

And thus Zheng Yan stops talking, and they both fall silent for a bit. Duan Ling finishes applying ointment, wraps Zheng Yan’s arm in bandages, and Zheng Yan’s gaze turns to Duan Ling’s face again.

“You’re rather pretty,” Zheng Yan murmurs, then putting one hand against Duan Ling’s chin to make him look up a little, his eyes focused on Duan Ling’s lips. As he does so his expression changes as though he has a mind to try something. Duan Ling’s heart is drawn all the way to his throat in an instant.

It all happens in the blink of an eye; the corner of Duan Ling’s mouth curls into a half smile, and raising a hand against Zheng Yan’s, he moves it aside. Zheng Yan’s eyebrow draws together in a frown again.

“What are you trying to do?” Duan Ling backs away from him. He wonders if Zheng Yan has discovered anything in that brief moment earlier. He still remembers his father telling him before that the shape of his lips is hereditary. Zheng Yan is familiar with the Marquess of Yao’s family, so he must have met Duan Ling’s aunt as well — would he ever associate Duan Ling’s features to hers?

“Being with Wu Du is boring.” Zheng Yan is back to his usual self, smiling roguishly at him. “Why don’t you come have some fun with me? Let me take good care of you for three days and three nights and you’ll never be able to leave me, I guarantee.”

“Did you teach His Highness how to have fun? I noticed that you were quite ready to jump into the water earlier.”

“Now that’s not something you can just say. You think your head’s attached to your shoulder too securely, I’m afraid?”

Duan Ling wants to change the subject to Cai Yan to get a handle on Zheng Yan’s attitude towards him. “Who was the one that was with him today?”

“That guy’s name is Feng Duo. Treacherous as hell. Don’t get on his bad side.”

Wu Du has come back, and he puts a jar of wine on the table. “Drink it, then hurry up and go. We’re damn sleepy.” Then he starts stripping and changing into the casual clothes he wears at home as if Zheng Yan isn’t even there. As it occurs to him, he says to Duan Ling, “Get Zheng Yan a clean suit of clothes.”

Zheng Yan waves to tell him there’s no need. He picks up the jar, takes a mouthful, and promptly spits out the whole lot.

“What is this? Your piss?” Zheng Yan says with his face contorted.

Wu Du has finished changing his clothes, and folding up those sheets of paper, he puts it in his sword case. “Why do you talk so much? It’s the middle of the night. Where am I supposed to find you good wine? I got that from the kitchen.”

Duan Ling has a headache from the wind, and so he goes to lie down on the bed to listen to their conversation. Wu Du asks Duan Ling, “You asleep?”

“I’m awake.” Duan Ling turns over, facing Wu Du and Zheng Yan. “Who’s Feng Duo?”

“A criminal,” Zheng Yan replies. “He colluded with a foreign power. He was sentenced to death and scheduled to be executed after autumn, but the capital was relocated in autumn so he relocated along with us to Jiangzhou.”

“What was the crime he committed?” Wu Du isn’t really informed about stuff that happened at court either.

Zheng Yan replies languidly, “Thirteen years ago, Southern Chen set up a plan to sow dissension in Liao. Fei Hongde lobbied the Yelü family to accuse the Liao capital’s literati Cai clan of ‘awaiting an opportunity to commit treason’. Before he joined the Shadow Guard, Feng Duo’s older sister married a Cai, and in order to save his sister he leaked this information to Cai Ye. After that he was sold out by someone in the shadow guard and off to jail he went …”

Duan Ling and Wu Du exchange a look, communicating silently that they’re both aware of why Cai Yan chose Feng Duo now. And seemingly not paying any attention, Zheng Yan drinks another mouthful of wine.

At the same time, candle flames flicker in the darkened palace.

As though he’s scared out his wits, Cai Yan keeps gasping for breath. Even after he’s changed his clothes, there’s still nothing but fear in his eyes. His lips have gone pale; he couldn’t calm down.

Lang Junxia is sitting before the table, quietly pondering over his tea.

Cai Yan finally calms himself down, and with a few steps he’s already in front of Lang Junxia. The very moment he reaches out, it’s to slap Lang Junxia across the face in one ringing, clean smack.

“How … How dare you …”

Lang Junxia doesn’t say anything at all, and the next thing Cai Yan does is to kick with all his might, turning over the table in front of him, sending it crashing against the floor.

“Say something!” As though he’s gone mad, Cai Yan howls at Lang Junxia, “Say something —!”

“It’s gotten quite late,” Lang Junxia replies, “you should get some sleep, Your Highness.”

“You traitor!” Cai Yan howls. “You double-crossing turncoat! You scoundrel!”

In a flash, a sword shimmering with cold light is up against Cai Yan’s throat; he hasn’t even noticed when the sword actually left its sheath, and Lang Junxia is already gripping firmly onto the other end of the sword.

He realises then, that he’s dismissed all of his attendants, and Lang Junxia can at any given time run through his throat with a light touch of his blade.

Cai Yan takes a half step back, but the Qingfengjian follows him the same distance, as though it’s his shadow.

“Your Highness mustn’t make so much noise.” Lang Junxia lowers his voice and says solemnly, “Otherwise all that’s going to happen is get us both killed for no good reason.”

Cai Yan calms himself and backs away another half step. This time, the blade does not follow him.

“It’s too late … It’s too late.” Cai Yan says, trembling. “They all heard what he said. Especially Zheng Yan. He’ll definitely tell my uncle.”

“That’s not your uncle.” Lang Junxia sheathes his sword casually, and his tone is without emotion. “That’s someone else’s uncle.”

“You’ll kill him for me, won’t you?” Cai Yan says, gasping. “He got lucky and managed to escape, so you’ll help me kill him again, and then kill everyone who heard those words. Lang Junxia, just like what you promised me — as long as I’m in this position, no living person will ever know.”

“Humans can only do so much,” Lang Junxia says thus, “I’ll try my best. Drink some calming soup and get some sleep. Once you fall asleep you won’t be scared anymore.”

“Kill him. Go kill him now. I’m begging you! Lang Junxia!”

Cai Yan throws himself at him, but Lang Junxia spins around, grabs Cai Yan by the collar, and pushes him to the edge of the bed. He whispers in Cai Yan’s ear, “Your Highness, killing a random person who has nothing to do with you will only make Mu Kuangda suspicious. Don’t forget, Chang Liujun also heard what was said tonight.”

With some difficulty, Cai Yan swallows. Lang Junxia doesn’t say anything else, and he turns to leave the room.

Over and over again, Cai Yan is thinking about how Duan Ling is still alive one moment and the thought fills him with unimaginable fear, then the next moment he’s thinking about how Amga has yelled the truth at them, and how he’s going to have to answer if Li Yanqiu asks him about it. Amga is just trying to throw confusion into the mix! Slander! It’s clearly slander!

On his initial return to court the rumours had been flying as well, and ultimately it was Wu Du who made the final judgement and verified his identity. Yet how has Duan Ling made it to Wu Du’s side?! Wu Du called him “Wang Shan” … Is Wu Du aware of who he is?

Wu Du had never met him before, and Duan Ling also had no way of proving his own identity, so how on earth did he manage to survive?

Cai Yan sits up again, and says to the attendant standing outside, “Send for Feng. Hurry. Send him in.”

Feng comes in, and he’s come in such a hurry that he hasn’t even had a chance to change his clothes. He stands outside the bed curtains and asks, “What does Your Highness require?”

Cai Yan thinks it over for a long time. The words are at the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t know where to begin. Finally he can only say with exhaustion, “Sit over there. Just sit down.”

And so Feng sits down nearby. Cai Yan heaves a long sigh, leaning against the pillow, pale and wan, staring weakly at the ceiling of the bed.

“Does Your Highness need to summon the imperial physician to take a look?”

“No.”

He’s already thinking about how he can escape from the palace and leave it all behind, but where can he ever go? Zheng Yan, Wu Du, Chang Liujun … every one of them are experts in the martial arts. Without Lang Junxia’s protection, chasing him down would be child’s play. He has violated the oath he made before Li Jianhong, and it torments him as though he will live in a raging fire for eternity, never shall he find peace.

And even so, he never once thinks about begging for Duan Ling’s forgiveness. He knows that Duan Ling won’t forgive him — even if Duan Ling acquiesces, Li Yanqiu would definitely make mincemeat out of him. Worst comes to worst, he can always poison Li Yanqiu … kill him too … kill everyone … An extremely hideous thought flashes across the recesses of Cai Yan’s mind, and the thought seems to drain him of all his strength, making him fall asleep in a daze.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

[excelsi-or]

your type (pt. 1)

Hello friends! I have retuuuuurned. I decided we’d go with the ‘dating you because of a date’ trope story (mostly because I’ve suddenly started OVERHAULING the shit out of the other story I’d proposed to you). It’s a decent-lengthen fic, a little more story-based than snapshot like my past two series. 

w.c. 2.6k (LOL, enjoy the set up. We hit the ground running pretty quick after this one.)

pt. 2

note 1: I’ve tried to make all the characters/idols in this one, so if you see a name and recognize it, yeah, it’s probably the idol you’re thinking of. I haven’t done this in my last two fics because I usually prefer not to, but I needed so many side characters to bring this story to life and I doubted you guys would be interested in me creating a bunch of random names and people you didn’t know. 

note 2: I don’t ship any of the idols that are ‘together’ in this fic or wind up ‘together’ in this fic.

When love is a game on a university campus, the question is always how many people can you get into your bed?

Her girls are all about this game. Between studying for exams, hobbies, volunteering and hanging out; they are swiping left and right, going on dates, meeting new boys on campus that they’ve never interacted with before.

To be systematic about it—because these are science majors—they’ve been working through varying departments. And they’ve left a specific department for their last year at school: the music department. For two reasons.

1)    The hottest boys come out of the music department.

2)    The fuck boys come from the music department.

If her girls are all about meeting and bedding various men, the boys in the music department are playing the same game. And she has heard various stories about girls trying to change these music department fuck boys.

She’s dabbled in the dating scene, but has quickly learned that the boys on campus just tend not to be her cup of tea.

“Party at Jackson’s tonight,” Jihyo tells her as she slips into the seat across from her at their dining room table.

“And who are you chasing after tonight?” she asks simply, erasing the subscript 2 she’d put down next to her carbon.

“Do you know Choi Seungcheol?”

She snorts. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“We’ve been flirting a little.”

Before she can respond properly, the answer to her chemistry question suddenly comes to her. She grumbles under her breath as she proceeds to erase half a page of work. “Did you go for your testing this morning?”

“Still clean,” Jihyo hums. The woman takes the chemistry homework distraction and uses it to her advantage. “How was that boy you met last week?”

“Eh.” She slowly starts over. “He was whatever. Little too handsy, little too spitty. Kinda boring.”

Jihyo laughs. “I still don’t think you’re giving these boys a chance.”

“Boy’s gotta meet my standard or fuck off,” she chuckles. She tosses her pencil into her notebook and closes it. She props her chin in her hands. “I’m guessing since you’re going to distract me from homework until I say I’m going to get ready that you have someone you want me to meet tonight.”

Jihyo shrugs. “No promises, but Cheol did say to bring my friends tonight so we can play card games at Jackson’s tonight.”

She gets to her feet. “We can do that at someone’s house and not at Jackson’s party.” She heads to her bedroom. “But fine. I’m always down to beat new people at cards.”

Having dabbled in a few music classes, she does actually recognize a few of Seungcheol’s friends. Seungkwan and Hansol come as a pair and don’t date around as much as the others do, likely why she’d taken a liking to them. When Jihyo drags her through the crowd at Jackson’s front door and into the living room, those two boys tackle her first.

She winds up on Hansol’s knee, his hand at her waist to balance her there. “How are you? We haven’t seen you since theory class.”

“I’ve been in the research lab,” she laughs. “You said you’d come visit me.”

“Not all of us are graduating, noona,” Seungkwan argues. “You’re done this year, but we have two years left.”

She ruffles his hair. “Excuses, excuses.”

“Have you met everyone else before?” Seungkwan asks when one of his friends returns with a few beers in his hands.

“Briefly.” She shakes her head when Hansol offers the beer.

Proper introductions are made, and conversation is easy. Jihyo is already in Seungcheol’s lap. His hand strokes her bare legs, likely ‘warming’ them. That excuse always makes her laugh.

Momo walks into the room, a little tipsy already, and scans the room. When the taller woman’s eyes land on her, she breaks out into a smile. “I need you to meet someone.” Without a response, Momo grabs her hand and lifts her off Hansol’s knee, pulling her back through the house.

“You good?” she asks Momo once they’re out of the room and entangled in the sea of people.

Suddenly, Momo stops them before an older looking man who looks incredible uncomfortable to be surrounded by university students. 

She stares up at this man and looks between him and Momo. “Who is this?”

“My boyfriend, Heechul.”

Her eyes widen. Momo had been going on about some older man she’d met at a café nearby. And Momo has been asking her to meet Heechul for a while, mostly for approval. Her girls think since she’s picky that she knows how to judge good men. She can’t confirm or deny that.

She holds a hand out. “Nice to MEET YOU!” She has to start yelling, because the music has picked up now that the party’s in full swing.

“Oppa was just dropping Sana and me off and Jihyo said that you were going to be here!” Momo gives her a little push towards Heechul. “Talk to him!”

She tilts her head. “Where are you going?”

“To find Sana and Jihyo!”

Momo pecks Heechul on the cheek and tells him that someone will call to be picked up.

Once his girlfriend wanders off, Heechul looks down at her. She motions towards the door. The man seems confused as to why a little girl is bossing him around, but he leads the way out of the house.

She stands on the front porch, leaning against the beam near the steps. “How old are you?”

“36.”

She almost chokes on her tongue. That is a very apparent 13-year age difference. “Right. Momo said you met in a café.”

“I spilled my drink on her by accident.” Heechul seems hesitant to say more. He leans up and squints at her. “Who are you again?”

“My name doesn’t matter, but I know I have some weight as to whether you and Momo continue to date.” She tilts her head. “Why Momo?”

“Why not Momo? She’s gorgeous, sweet, adorable.”

“What is Momo studying?”

“Something in science, but she’s a dancer at heart.”

She mulls that thought over in her mind. “And what do you do?”

The name is technical, which suggests that his job isn’t CEO. But it sounds stable.

“Kids?”

“None.”

“Married?”

“Never.”

She nods her head and then smiles sweetly. “Nice to meet you.”

Heechul doesn’t call after her like the other boys tend to do when she abruptly ends her weird interview, which reflects his age. But she knows he’s definitely confused by the way he lingers in the walkway.

Inside, her ears need to readjust to the volume. She weaves her way back through the house, the bass trying to alter her heartbeat in her chest. Just as she’s about to join her friends in the living room, she gets stopped by Jeon Jungkook. They’d dated for nearly a year during her second year of university. He’s dating his roommate now, but they’re still close. Jungkook picks her up around the waist and spins her.

“I haven’t seen you in ages! Why does it feel like you disappeared off the face of the planet?” Jungkook demands.

“I’m in hiding!”

“Hiding?”

“Don’t want you to suddenly fall back in love with me and leave Taehyung!” she teases. “Where is he anyway?”

Jungkook pecks her cheek. “Somewhere here! I had to drag him out from under his chemistry thesis!” Kim Taehyung wound up joining the chemistry graduate program at the university. His brain is legendary in the chemistry department.

“Tell him I say hi!”

“Where you going?”

She points to the living room over his shoulder. Jungkook’s brows rise, impressed. When they used to come to parties, they’d spend most of the time in whatever game room existed. Many of the houses they visited owned a pool table, and if people weren’t having sex on it, she, Jungkook, and a few of their friends would play rounds of pool until everyone else was too drunk to shoot straight.

“Aren’t Mingyu and his friends in there?”

She rolls her eyes, a smirk on her face. “Wish me luck!”

Jungkook laughs. “You don’t need it! Those guys would be insane to tangle with you!” He gives her a quick kiss on the forehead and pats her lower back. “I would know!”

They promise to meet up for a late lunch the following day after he’s nursed his hangover, and she rejoins her friends in the living room. Momo drags her to the floor. “What did you think of Heechulie?”

She gauges Momo’s expression. Her eyes are out of focus, which suggests intoxication thus suggesting more emotional responses. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

“Yo.” She looks over at Hansol’s voice and catches the Coke can he tosses at her. The boys all ‘oh’ loudly, and she furrows her brow at the overreaction.

Suddenly, someone is leaning towards her and whispering, “He promised that one of you would be sober.”

She turns and finds herself face-to-face with Mingyu. “Okay…”

“It makes Stress a little more challenging,” Mingyu clarifies.

Stress is a speed-based card game, one that Jihyo had taught her last week. Now that she knows the boys love to play it, she understands where Jihyo learned it. When the woman had taught it to her, Jihyo had said, “I can’t wait until you get to play them!”

It had been such an odd comment at the time, but now that there’s a Stress tourney happening in the living room with 8 decks of cards, she gets it.

And here she is, after three rounds of Stress with various people, sat across from a man she only met properly about ten minutes ago: Jihoon. He’s flushed in the face from the heat of the party, the alcohol, or the anxiety of all the people who have been cycling through the room to watch.

“How drunk are you?” she asks as she shuffles.

Jihoon tips his head both ways. “I’ve had two.”

“Shots? Or beers?”

“Shots.”

She nods her head as she begins dealing.

“Noona, it’s not fair!” Chan whines, leaning into her. They’d played each other in the first round, and even with her going slow, she’d still won. “You’re not as drunk as us.”

Gently, she eases him into Seokmin. “I don’t drink. You guys wanted to play, so we’re playing.” She catches Jihoon’s gaze. “Do you care?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Nah. Easy win regardless.”

Jihyo’s laugh is short and loud to prove a point. “Even if you were sober, Jihoon, she’d smoke you.”

Jihoon gives his head another shake as Seungcheol shouts go.

And she wins.

She has to squirm out of all the grabby hands that try to toss her into the air in victory. “I’ll be back.” She gets up and starts towards the kitchen. She feels someone following her and finds Jihoon there.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” he states.

She doesn’t question it. It is a house party. Guys she doesn’t know will try anything. She ducks around arms and around hands that try to grab her when they call out to her in greeting. She, however, pounces on Min Yoongi who is standing in the kitchen talking with someone.

“Hey kid,” Yoongi says once he gets over the surprise. “Haven’t seen you in eons.”

She digs around in one of the coolers for a Coke. Her drink had spilled four minutes into the tournament when Seokmin had lost and flailed his arms around, promptly knocking her drink off the table. “Jungkookie and I are going for lunch tomorrow. You should come if you aren’t busy.”

Yoongi hums. “Sure, kid.” He glances at someone over shoulder. “I can move some stuff around.”

She gives his arm a squeeze before venturing back through the mass of humans. When someone bumps into her, causing her to topple backwards, she falls back into Jihoon. His cool hands and broad chest keep her steady and guide her back to the living room. He releases her and returns to his spot at the opposite end of the room.

A beer she hadn’t noticed Jihoon take is passed off to Jeonghan. The boys all have someone in their lap or someone trying to get into it, and a few of her girls have disappeared.

She glances at the clock. Jihyo catches her doing this. “You can go,” Jihyo mouths.

She juts her chin their direction. “You going home with Cheol?” she mouths back.

Jihyo glances down at Seungcheol who is talking to Joshua, and then meets her eye again with a nod.

Immediately, she gets to her feet again and begins saying her goodbyes.

“You heading out?” Jihoon asks from his spot on the floor next to two girls and Wonwoo.

“Yeah. Music’s making my head pound.” She squeezes Wonwoo’s outstretched hand and runs a hand through Seungkwan’s hair as she passes.

Once again, when she glances over her shoulder, she finds Jihoon behind her.

“What?”

“Walking you home.” He’s already grabbing his jacket from the overstuffed hall closet. Some people’s jackets have landed on the floor.

She smirks. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re gonna walk home alone at night?” He shrugs his jacket on.

“You’re tipsy,” she snorts. “You should stay here.” She slips past him to find her own coat. It’s tangled in the back. Jihoon nudges her out of the way to grab it. He helps her into it.

“Are you going to say goodbye to say bye to Jackson first?” he asks.

“I don’t actually know him.” She zips up her coat and meets his eye. “You go say bye.”

“Come on.” Jihoon motions with his head for her to follow.

“No, I’m good.”

Jihoon somehow knows that if he leaves her for a second, she’ll be out the door without him. “Let’s go then.”

She doesn’t question him. As they walk back to her apartment, she pops open the Coke can still in her hand. “Just so you know, the walk is twenty minutes.”

“You were going to walk twenty minutes on your own?” Jihoon demands.

She glances over at him. “I didn’t realize you were so chivalrous.”

“And I didn’t realize you were an idiot.”

She snorts. “The walk’s well-lit and I find it’s more comfortable than taking the bus or a taxi.”

“Any walk is nice until it’s not.”

Instead, this walk is almost awkward. With anyone else, it definitely would have been. They say next to nothing the entire twenty minutes, though he does sip the soft drink when offered. At her lobby door, she turns and smiles. “It was nice to meet you. Thanks for walking me home.”

Jihoon studies her for a while. She wonders if this is one of his moves. She’s heard of Jihoon’s reputation through the grapevine. And if this is one of his moves, does this really get the ladies going?

Eventually, the scrutinizing goes on for so long that she slowly backs towards the door to go inside.

“Do you want to go for breakfast?” he calls after her.

“Breakfast?”

“I heard you say you were busy at lunch. How about breakfast?” Jihoon asks.

She glances over her shoulder as she unlocks the door. She lets herself into the apartment and stands half in and half out. “Sure. Goodnight.”

“What? You’re not going to give me a number to call you? You could just say no.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “Not as drunk as I thought. 9 AM here then.”

His brow furrows. “You want me to pick you up?”

She glances up towards the lights above the doorway that name her building. “You know where I live. 9 AM.”

Jihoon nods. “Okay.”

pt. 2

#woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #woozi #Lee Jihoon #lee jihoon scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #Seventeen #svt

[tobesobri]

𝓞nly one more chapter to go after this omg!!!! Honestly, I considered giving up on posting this story so many times, but I’m really glad I didn’t because it’s been such an incredible experience thanks to all of you guys! This chapter is my personal favorite out of the entire series so I really hope you guys like it!

If you’d like a preview of Chapter 13 right now, you can join my patreon here! All current proceeds will be donated to the Marsha P. Johnson Institute. Thank you so much for all the love and support with this story ❤️

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER TWELVE: SLAVE TO THE WAY YOU MOVE (6.2K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

When her phone rang the next morning, she didn’t exactly get to it very easily. Not when she tried to roll away from Harry and he groaned, holding onto her even tighter.

“Leave it,” he whispered in a raspy version of his voice, eyes still closed, arm still firmly curled around her waist.

“It’s probably Will,” she reminded him, attempting once again to move away from Harry.

But he just groaned again like he was some kind of possessive dog. She huffed, falling against his chest when he showed no signs of giving up. Which remained true until she dug her hands into his side and tickled him away from her.

“Oi! Stop it!” He whined, finally letting go and pushing her away from him until he rolled over on his side and she was free to answer her phone.

“You cheating fucker,” he mumbled half into his pillow while she sat on the edge of the bed and took care of Will’s call before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you're still at Harry’s right?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m out front. Sorry I didn’t call before I got here, it’s just been hectic.”

She immediately shot up from her spot on his bed and Harry opened his eyes again, turning onto his back to watch her as she raced to retrieve her clothes.

“Oh, um... I was just going to get an uber or something.” She held her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she grabbed her bra and then her dress from Harry’s floor. 

“It’s no big deal. I’m headed back to pick up a few things anyways because I’m going to stay with Sasha the rest of the weekend.”

Y/N had been too lost in her panicking that she forgot why she’d ended up where she did last night in the first place. “Is she alright? Her mom I mean.”

Will sighed through the receiver, “Yeah. She was having chest pains yesterday. They kept her overnight for observation. I just got them home about an hour ago, but I’m literally still in my clothes from last night.”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Harry, who stared at her concerned, waiting himself to know what was going on and why it seemed like she was leaving him already.

“Okay, um, I’ll be there in a minute.”

And then Harry shut his eyes tight and wished they could just rewind and go back to sleep.

“He’s waiting outside.” She spoke softly and Harry opened his eyes to her, finding her phone in her hand instead of at her ear.

Harry nodded, knowing she didn’t have any other options. She stared at him for a moment, growing sadder by the second, before she reluctantly took her clothes to his bathroom with her and changed back into them.

When the bathroom door shut behind her, he rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face into his hands because her leaving was not at all in his plans for the morning. He had so much more to say to her, more kisses to give her. 

He didn’t want her to go home and never come back again because, in his experience, saying I love you wasn’t always enough to get someone to stay. 

She crawled onto the bed behind him once she was changed, placing his t-shirt onto his bare shoulder to get his attention. Once he looked at her, she smiled apologetically.

“I’ll be back, I promise.” She leaned down, pressing her lips to his. She pulled away quicker than he would have liked her to and she looked at him almost like she was about to cry when he pouted and reached for more. She hated leaving him like she was, with so many words hanging above them still, but Will left her no choice. 

“Sorry for bailing on you like that.” Will said while he drove in a hurry, breaking the speed limit on every street it took to get back to their building. She couldn’t blame him though.

Shaking her head, she quickly shot him down. “Don’t worry about it.” And she really wished he wouldn’t. After the night she had, she should be thanking him for leaving her at the party. 

“Guess Harry owed you anyways for that one time he got drunk and you let him sleep in your bed.” Will smiled, glancing over at her while she nodded in agreement. Her heart fluttered thinking back to that time and how far she and Harry had come since then. She wondered if he’d liked her back then too, in the same way she had liked him, and just how long she was blind to it. 

Will explained everything that happened with Sasha the rest of the way and she listened quietly, respecting his need to release all the anxious thoughts even though she sometimes found herself getting distracted. It was Harry’s fault, she figured, he’d said he was in love with her, and kissed her when he was sober, and she didn't get the chance to say a single word to him yet.

Y/N and Will split ways when he rushed to his room to pack a bag and she sat on the edge of her bed, waiting until he left again before she called Harry. A text might have sufficed, asking what time she could come back, but she wanted to hear his voice again. Desperately.

Her phone dinged in her hands before she got the chance, however.

(Harry, 10:03 a.m.)

Just got called to a meeting until five. I can pick you up afterwards?

Her shoulders dropped and a frown pulled on her lips. Five o’clock was so far away she had no clue what she was going to do until then. She had no plans for the day besides spending the entire thing with Harry. 

(Y/N, 10:03 a.m.)

Okay.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night.” Will poked his head in her room and she tried to pretend like she didn’t just get the worst news of her entire life. 

She nodded and he hesitated a moment before he left, wanting to ask if she’d be alright by herself in the apartment all weekend, but he refrained. She wasn’t a baby and he needed to stop worrying so much. His lips fell into another apologetic smile just before he took off. She listened to his footsteps and then eventually the front door as he shut it behind him.

Falling back on her bed, she already wished she was in Harry’s again. She still felt his arms around her, his lips on hers, his breath as he said those words. 

When it was nearing five, she was just about ready. Harry had texted that he got out early and was on his way right as she got out of the shower. With her towel wrapped around her, she walked over to her dresser to figure out what to wear and put her focus on that, which calmed her nerves about seeing Harry again.

She dug through her underwear drawer first, realizing she hadn’t done laundry in a while when she only had a couple clean pairs left.  But in her attempts to choose between the bright purple pair with pictures of cats on them or the stripey one with ‘Wednesday’ printed on the back, her eyes fell to something much more appealing at the bottom of her drawer that she hadn’t seen or thought of in a long time. 

She’d never had a need for a nice set of lingerie, not even when she’d bought it just after graduating college. No one was going to see it besides her, but that really hadn’t mattered because it was for her. Picking the lace bra and panty set up in her hands now, it reminded her of when she’d first saw it online and then opened it up in person. When she tried it on and looked at herself in the mirror with all the hope in the world that it would make her see her body differently. It didn’t quite work out that way, however. It wasn’t an instant fix to her problems as she dreamed it would be, but even though she didn’t care for how she looked in it, it still made her feel better about herself, so she hung onto them. 

And she was glad for that because if something were to happen with Harry, she was not doing it in kitty cat undies and a bra she owned since freshman year. 

She had no clue if they would even get to the point of Harry seeing what was underneath her clothes, but just the thought of it made her restless in the passenger seat of his car. Then there was just being in his car at all that had her in a fit of butterflies as well because it was the first time they’d been out in public like this together. They weren’t around friends, not in the comfort of either of their homes anymore and while it used to scare her to potentially be caught with Harry, now she was wishing someone would. It would make telling her roommates, and especially Will, that much easier. 

In order to keep her thoughts and her body under control, she focused on the mundane things instead. Everything she wanted to say to him was going to have to wait until they were at his house because that was the only place she felt comfortable enough to be completely vulnerable with him. 

“How was your meeting?” She asked after he pulled back onto the streets again and although it was a boring question, it still made her just as nervous, possibly because she knew it was just her stalling until they walked through his front doors.

“Alright,” he mumbled, “would have rather spent the day with you.”

Looking out her window instead of at him, she quickly hid the blush on her cheeks. The lingerie on her skin under her long-sleeve and jeans became all-too apparent again. She needed to calm down, that much she knew, because she didn't even know what Harry wanted yet and she definitely wasn’t doing anything until she’d said what she needed to say. 

She sighed shakily, “Well you can have me for the rest of the weekend.”

He grinned at her words, not sure if she was hiding an innuendo in them or not, but he didn’t risk asking. She was staying, at least until the weekend was over, and that’s all he cared about.

Once they’d reached his house, and she glared at the stupid For Sale sign again, she realized why she hated it so much. It wasn’t just a house to her anymore, it wasn’t some place that made her feel like a stranger. It held her most personal objects and most precious memories. It had become home to her, way more than her apartment ever did.

She placed her things down on the island in the kitchen and it was clear he had hired someone to clean up while he’d been gone. There was no chocolate cake smeared into the countertops and no empty bottles of beer laying around anymore. It was clean again with absolutely no telling if a party had even happened last night. She’d almost forgotten, too, since the only part of last night on her mind was when they’d gone upstairs together.

Watching him pour two glasses of water, it took her right back to their first night together. So much had changed since then. She wasn’t even the same person anymore, she was sure of that. 

Although she was possibly the most nervous she’d ever been, she knew she had to just spit it out. Rip the band-aid off and tell him everything she felt about him. She cleared her throat and hoped for the best.

“I liked you all this time too, you know.” Her confession wasn't nearly up to par with his, but he’d take it anyways. Grinning, he glanced at her sideways while closing the fridge.

“Could’ve fooled me.” He slipped her one of the glasses across the counter, knowing very well that she did, in fact, fool him into thinking otherwise. Until she kissed him this morning and promised she’d be back, he still hadn’t been convinced.

A slew of apologies rested on her face, in her furrowed brows and flared nostrils, “I didn’t think you liked me so it was easier for me to just push you away.”

He leaned onto the counter, facing her but not looking at her. His mind went in all different directions then. First to the time he told Will he thought he’d made his feelings for her obvious and now realized Will had been right. Then, and most prominently, his mind snapped to quite possibly the worst day of his life, or at least since he’d known her. His heart broke all over again when her previous words rang in his head as clear as they had several weeks ago. When she told him she didn’t care if he saw other people. When he cried in the exact same spot he was standing in now because he thought she didn’t have a single feeling for him at all. He never thought she just might be pushing him away in order to protect herself and he felt stupid for not realizing that.

But… hiding her emotions seemed to be Y/N’s specialty.

“You were really good at that… pushing me away.”

She sighed again and all the words in her brain finally just spilled out for him to hear and for the kitchen walls to absorb. “I’m really sorry about that Harry, I think I was just too afraid of you rejecting me… and you never really said anything either so I assumed… But I was heartbroken when I found out what you did in New York, I just,” she paused for a moment to look into his eyes again and the way he looked at her with so much care gave her enough confidence to continue, “I didn’t want you to think I liked you, or that I was jealous, because I didn’t think you would ever feel the same about me.”

Harry remained quiet when it was written all over her face that she still had more to say and all he wanted to do was listen. “But then, um,” she began once more, “then I didn't really want you to like me or for that song to be about me or any of it because I felt like you would be better off with someone else who could be more open with you.” Her next words came out in a whisper, “I just thought it was best to leave you alone.”

He nodded, averting his eyes to where he ran his fingertip over the edge of his glass, figuring out everything he wanted to say first but when he looked at her again, he realized that was part of their problem. Not just saying how they really felt without thinking of the consequences.

He took the two steps needed to stand right in front of her, to be able to reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear and fill his senses with everything he loved about her. Her soft skin when his thumb brushed past her cheek, her coconut-scented shampoo, and especially her eyes that cared about him and trusted him.

“That’s not what was best, I hope you know that.” He began softly and she nodded before he continued. “Also hope you know how sorry I am that it took me so long to say anything to you… but I realized I was falling in love with you after you told me about your past. So when you said you didn’t like relationships, I didn’t want to hurt you so I kept it to myself. But I still foolishly fell for you anyways, didn’t I?” He glanced between her eyes, watching the crinkles appear on the outside of them as she smiled.

“But Y/N?” He started up again and her smile faded when his did too, “There was never anyone else I wanted. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am for making you think that and upsetting you. That was never my intention.”

She hesitated a moment before swiping a few stray strands of hair from his forehead. “It’s okay. I know that now.”

There was still a look of uncertainty in his eyes, like he didn’t deserve to be forgiven and like he still wasn’t sure she was actually going to stay, and he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to.

“I’m not going to leave again, Harry…” she assured, practically reading his mind in a way she had never been able to. “Not unless you want me to of course.” 

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he grew closer, close enough to press his forehead to hers and swipe his thumb along her cheekbone, “No, I don’t want that. I never wanted that.”

Although he was still smiling, sadness fell over his eyes that he quickly hid by flicking them down to her lips. She had already been in love with the way he looked at her mouth, but if it was even possible, she liked it more now. Now that they weren’t being idiots and wasting time. Now that both of their mouths had said things they’d been meaning to for a long time now.

He glanced back to her yes, all sadness stripped from his face now, “S'alright if I--”

She cut him off, already nodding before he had a chance to ask. She didn’t want him to ask that question ever again. She didn’t want him to worry about being too forward, about hurting her, about crossing a line. There was no line for him to cross. She just wanted him to kiss her without thinking about it.

And he did. It took him another few moments, but his lips were on hers again and it felt just as amazing as it did last night and then again this morning. She hated that she could have been kissing him for a long time now, but she tried not to dwell on her mistakes too heavily. Not when he was kissing her the way he was and all she wanted to focus on was his lips and his tongue and his hands.

His hands that fled from her face moments after she brushed her tongue against his and things took a turn from innocent kissing in his kitchen to needy hands sliding up the back of her shirt and wet moans from his lips when she pressed into him. It helped her confidence knowing his fingertips were inching closer to her bra, the one she was grateful she had on right now.

And then she wrapped her hands around his forearms and backed away before he got any further. But when she saw the look on his face, she wasn’t sure that was the right move. He was absolutely terrified. He pulled his arms from her grasp quickly and put an inch or two of space between them again.

“I’m so sorry.”

Again, she put a halt to his train of thought with a simple gesture. She shook her head and reached her hand up to his face, wrapping it around the back of his neck and pressing her thumb where his dimple should be. 

“Don’t be… just meet me upstairs in ten minutes.” Her voice was soft, but her eyes might as well have been undressing him right there in the middle of his kitchen. Although that would have been nice, she really didn’t want him to see her in her lacy underwear in his fucking kitchen. The lights were too bright for her liking and she never got the chance to warm up to the space as much as she did his bedroom. 

His body eased and then he nodded slowly, never looking away from her while she pulled her hand from his face, grabbed her bag and walked away from him. 

Ten minutes was way too much time to be away from her and he spent the whole spanse of time staring at the clock, wishing it would go faster but also wishing it wouldn’t. He had no idea what she was up to and even though his mind went crazy with all the endless possibilities, he just hoped that whatever it was, she knew what she was doing. 

She squeezed her hands around the arms of his chair when she heard him heading up the stairs. She didn’t move, however, just focused on her breathing as she convinced herself not to run into his bathroom and hide before he made it to her.

Ten minutes was four minutes too long. She sat down and realized that once every piece of her body was set aflame with anticipation. She knew what she wanted, but she still wasn’t sure about him. What if he didn’t want her? 

The events from last night flew past her eyelids. He kissed you because he wanted to, not because he was drunk, she reminded herself. And he kissed you again, moments ago in the kitchen, also not because he was drunk. She thought about his touch on her skin, slowly inching up her back. She thought about his words from last night and they settled her nerves down to a minimum.

That was until he appeared in the doorway to his bedroom.

He sucked in a breath of air seeing her in that familiar spot in the middle of his room. Sitting on her throne and looking out over Los Angeles like she owned it. But it was hardly what he expected when she told him to meet her here. Especially when she didn’t even look at him, just tensed up her shoulders and her grip on the chair when she noticed his presence.

“Everything alright?” He asked and she continued to just stare out the windows, nodding and trying to regain whatever courage she had in order to ask him to do this in the first place.

He furrowed his brows, confused as he walked over to his bedside table and removed his phone and wallet from his back pockets and then each of his rings from his fingers, knowing that whatever she was planning, he didn’t want anything weighing him down. It also gave them both a moment to relax.

Right when he began removing his watch, the last thing on him besides his shirt and jeans, she stood and took a few steps in his direction. He froze and looked at her while she hugged her arms around herself. He realized then that she was wearing a robe which looked an awful lot like one of his. If the lighting was better, he’d be able to make out the stitching on the left breast of his last name and confirm that she had, in fact, slipped into his robe while she made him wait downstairs.

“What are you--?”

He stopped talking, and stopped thinking and probably stopped breathing when she untied the belt around her waist and let both halves of the robe fall open to reveal what she’d been hiding underneath. His watch hit the floor instead of the table. 

He swallowed thickly, not sure how long was too long to stare at her like he currently was with his jaw slightly ajar and his eyes refusing to blink in case he might miss something. 

When he snapped out of it, he walked over to her finally, not giving a single shit about his watch.  He stood in front of her and kept his hands to himself even though it was painful to do so. Instead, his eyes flickered to the embroidery on the silky fabric draped over her shoulders and he grinned, “S’that my robe?” 

It was a dumb question, because of course it was his. It had his name stitched into it. 

“Hope it’s okay that I borrowed it.” She ran her fingers up the hem and made him light-headed. Her matching pink lace underwear was one thing, but the robe was almost too much for him to process.  

He dragged his eyes reluctantly from her breasts, the transparent material showing off more of her than he’d ever seen, and back up to her eyes. “If I say it isn’t, will you take it off?”

She smiled at him and then took one step closer. “Why don’t you,” she began, grabbing his hands and placing them on her bare hips, “take it off yourself?”

Her voice was shaky and even though her actions exuded confidence, he knew her anxiety must be through the roof. He knew her too well. He knew she didn’t like being touched, didn’t like being seen when she wasn’t covered. Didn’t like being open. It soothed his own nerves to know that all of the things she didn’t like became things she did, as long as it was with him. The only thing on his radar now was making her as comfortable as he possibly could.

When she let go of his hands, he kept them there, pulling her in to close the gap she’d left between them until his mouth found hers again. He’d daydreamed through his entire meeting about kissing her the entire rest of the night, but that was no match to the reality of it. Never in his wildest dreams did he expect her to be standing in front of him like she was, putting his hands on her body in a whole new way than ever before.

His fingers slid gently up to her shoulders where he slipped them under the silk until it fell right off her skin and gathered into a pool at her feet. He pulled away for a moment, resting his forehead on hers when she reached for more. He smirked at the way she pouted impatiently. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, bringing a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear and he didn’t give her much of a chance to respond, but the blush on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes said more than enough. 

Once his lips were on hers again, he backed her up slowly, stepping right on top of his, now irrelevant, robe until they reached the chair. 

She pulled away from him this time and when she spoke next, there wasn’t a stitch of hesitation in her voice, “I want you.”

Swallowing, he nodded in understanding. She knew exactly what she was doing and she wanted him. His hands were back on her hips as he gently coerced her into the chair.

“Sit,” he whispered and she did exactly what he said without a second thought. 

She was back in her chair in front of him, her hands gripping the armrests while she looked up into his eyes eagerly because she had no clue what he was planning but she trusted him to know that whatever it was, he wouldn’t hurt her. He was Harry and he’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. 

He sunk to his knees then and she already felt the pool between her legs before he even touched her. He never took his eyes off of her when he lifted his hands to her knees and slowly slid them apart to fit himself in the middle. He waited for any signs that he should stop, but when she glanced down at his hands that sat idly on her thighs, he figured it was a good time to move them.

“Is this alright?” He asked after he’d hooked his fingers under what little fabric there was of her panties and paused to make sure. When she nodded, he proceeded and began pulling them off. He went slow, almost painfully for her, but she was appreciative of it. If he went much faster she wasn’t sure how she’d respond and ruining everything right now was not on her agenda.

Again, his eyes stayed planted on hers as he tugged the lace over her hips when she adjusted slightly to give him room to do so. They went the rest of the way down her legs with ease until they, too, were on his bedroom floor. Her legs fell back into place around him as he slotted into his previous position. She focused on everything physically here and now as best she could, whether it was the way he looked at her, or the way the fabric of his shirt felt on her knees, the rough texture of his jeans on her calves. Just knowing that it was Harry sitting in front of her like this, while she was this exposed, calmed her right back down. Well, at least, it calmed the nerves, but she still felt the surge of butterflies in her stomach every time he made a slight movement and she could nearly puke with excitement.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, and her eyes bounced from his down to where their bodies connected and then back up and she nodded. It reassured him because even though she had said she wanted him, she had every right to change her mind.

“Let me know if you want me to stop.”

She nodded again, positive that if she opened her mouth to say something nothing would even come out. Her lack of ability to speak made him smile, though, as he slowly descended down her body. 

He kissed her from her collarbone down to her belly, pulling her legs out around his waist so that she slouched in the chair and gave him better access by the time he reached his destination. His hands gripped her thighs tight as he sat back on his knees and let his mouth do the talking.

She tensed up the second he licked the tip of his tongue into her and he immediately backed away staring up at her in shock that he’d already done something to hurt her.

Instead, she finally opened her own mouth, “I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just… didn’t expect… you can keep going.” 

He fell back into place hesitantly, but this time he kissed his way up her inner thigh, making sure to keep at least one eye on her at all times. When he had his tongue on her again, though, she sunk into her seat with a sigh and he wasn’t as worried. 

When he spread her open with both his hands planted on her inner thighs, his tongue explored even more to the point of finally managing a moan out of her. She didn’t give him a whole lot, but he didn’t really need it the way he watched her like a hawk to make absolutely sure she was really okay. 

And she did seem that way, she seemed more than okay, in fact. Everytime he flicked his tongue over just the right spot, her eyes rolled back into her head and so he made mental notes of everything she liked best. Even though she never closed her eyes completely, never looked away from him for more than a second, what she did do was more than enough. Although he normally got off on verbal praise, just the way her body reacted to him seemed to do all the tricks he needed it to. The way she moved against him, the way her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pouted and she sucked in shaky breaths, he didn’t need anything more than that.

What she did next had him moaning, however. She dug her fingernails into his scalp and tugged his curls, leaving him in stinging pain that felt so fucking incredible. It was just another reminder from her that what he was doing was good and that he made her feel good enough to have her hands at the back of his head trying to get more from him. He fidgeted and shifted his weight just to get some relief himself while he looked at her with darkened green eyes and his tongue suddenly picked up the pace.

She gasped and leaned back into the chair, her eyes fluttering shut. He let her do it for a moment until he slowed to a stop and pulled his mouth away just far enough to speak. 

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, catching his breath, and she felt the heat of it on the sensitive bits his tongue had just been getting to know. She, again, did as he asked without question. His voice wasn’t filled with anything but care for her so no matter what he asked, she’d probably do it.

“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?” 

She agreed, nonverbally, before he even considered continuing where he left off. It wasn’t that he needed to see her face, although that had been a huge factor in telling him what he needed to do. It was mostly that he didn’t want her to close her eyes and have a single stitch of an intrusive thought leak into her brain. He didn’t want her to see anything besides him, not the trauma she’d been through or the face of the asshole who had done it. He wanted her to see him; his green eyes, his dimples, his curly brown hair that tickled her skin and framed his sweaty forehead. He wanted her to see that it was him on his hands and knees in front of her and that his touches would not make her hate her body. They wouldn’t betray her or disrespect her. Her body was safe in his hands and he wanted her to see that.

When he knew she was close, he found her hands digging into the cushion below her and slipped his fingers through hers instead, letting her squeeze the life out of them and dig crescent shapes into his skin. By this point, he’d become obsessed with her body, in love with the way it said everything her mouth didn’t. He didn’t need her to say anything, though, he never really did. Just being near her had always been more than enough. The only thing he would need her to say now though, was if she wanted him to stop.

But those words never left her lips and he stopped expecting them to as he watched her face contort with pleasure. He wondered if anyone had ever made her feel as good as he was and it made him sad to think she’d gone so long never being treated the way she deserved. He adjusted again and gave her everything he was capable of.

Her body moved against him like a tidal wave and he’d probably let her drown him if it meant feeling her buck her hips up into his mouth the way she was and he’d most definitely die at the hands of her body if it meant feeling her heels dig into his back for an ounce of mercy. He didn’t give her very much though, mostly because the look on her face told him that if he stopped now, she might actually kill him. 

Even so, he worshiped the fuck out of her in every sense of the word. He never looked away, he watched her mouth as it fell open. He watched her eyebrows as they furrowed. And most importantly, he watched her eyes until she couldn’t take it anymore and they crossed back into her head, while her whole body shivered against him. He felt her coming more than he heard anything about it at first. 

But then she whispered and he completely forgot what he was doing. 

“I love you so much, Harry.”

He blinked, looking up at her so much more in love than he ever had been before. He wanted to kiss her, to hear her say it again ten more times at least. When her hips shifted upwards again, he snapped out of it and scooted closer to her to gain some control while she was losing it, using his forearms on her hips to keep her in place. That had only led her to squeeze his hands tighter than ever before while her thighs got him in a choke hold, but he loved every single second of it, which is why he didn’t take his tongue away from her until she settled down. 

She breathed heavily for a few moments while he watched her come down from her high as he rested his cheek against her thigh and stared up at her, still holding onto her hands and rubbing his thumb across the back of one of them. He heard her words over in his head again and they became his most favorite words ever.

“So you do love me?” He asked quietly, not wanting to miss too much of the sounds of her catching her breath because of what he’d just done to her body.

She laughed and fluttered her eyes shut again. After a moment, she shook her head and changed the subject, “Please don't ever leave this house.”

He chuckled, sending cool air against her core again while he leaned over to kiss her thigh softly, “Whatever you say.”

Taglist: @afterstylesmadeit​ @cxnyon-moon-deactivated20200417​  @chrryblsms​ @whydontharry​ @harryinsweatersandbandanas​ @idkthisisjustforfanfic​ @teddysoldbird​ @shawnsblue​ @thurhomish​ @theasstour​ @hufflepuff-always-and-forever​ @staceystoleyourheart​ @granolagrannie​ @defineharry​ @iambabyharry​ @1142590m​ @ashtondene​ @smokeinherperfume​ @cherryyharryy​ @mellamolayla​ @chrryblsms​ @cassiopeiaskies​ @sunflowerjens​ @detroitkiwis​ @brwnskin-bunnyteeth​  @meetmeinfleetwood​ @harriesgolden​ @rachkon​ @caritocp​ @sspidermanss​ @forestliz​ @grandfunnyemopainter​ @metalmerida  @httpsmoony​ @iconicharry​ @cheesecakebagels​ @cronias13​ @dontyoucallhimbabby​  @brassharry​ @whothefudgeisharrystyles​ @damnigotadime​ if you’d like to be added, go here :)

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #onlyhuman

[lycanlupins]

Chapter 4 - Twin Together, Win Together

i have to put a disclaimer cause this chapter is filthy!! pack your bags y’all, your headed to paris 😉 

It was your final night before going back and starting your final year of Hogwarts. You had planned and mulled over every thought to get revenge on the twins but nothing sat right with you. Why couldn't you just do something? You were growing frustrated in more ways than one. Being with the Weasley's was always a delight until you realized you had pretty much no privacy. Paper thin walls, Fred and George coming and going from your room, it was a constant stream of attention and that meant you couldn't even get yourself off when you wanted to. 

The closest you had gotten was the previous night. You were edging yourself to see just how long you could go without getting interrupted and the thought hit you. What if the boys were the ones touching you? That thought alone almost finished you off then and there and you quickly stopped your movements.

"This is wrong...so wrong..." you bit your lip and closed your eyes. What if Fred and George were your boyfriends? What if they were using you like their little plaything, using every hole on your body, caressing every curve.

You let out a breathy moan, covering your mouth with your free hand. Your eyes rolled back as you used the thoughts of them to get you closer and closer to your orgasm. Then you hear a loud whoosh.

"Y/N? You up?" You heard Fred's voice at a whisper. Fuck. You stopped moving, not wanting to alert them.

"Y/N, come on we're bored." George whined, approaching your bed. Shit, shit shit. You rolled over, pretending you weren't just about to finish yourself off.

"What time is it?" You rubbed your eyes and looked at the both of them. Fuck they were hot at night. Y'know, as friends are.

"Who cares, let’s go out and drink." And thats what you did. Except the only thing you could think of was how good they looked under the misty moonlit night. The way their shirtless torsos looked soft to the touch and their matching flannel pants hugged them in the right areas.

In a drunken stupor you hummed a tune to yourself, knowing the exact implications of the song. The twins looked at you, bottle of fire whiskey between them, tilting their heads.

"What are you on about?" Fred scooted closer. The cinnamon on his breath was so tantalizing, you wanted to taste him and then George afterwards. God, why were you thinking of them that way?

"Nothing, I need to head to bed. My head is killing me..." You shook your head, sobering up in a flash. "I'll see you guys tomorrow night. We can have a toast to our final year."

You knew what you needed to do. You couldn't keep thinking about them and not acting on it, even if for one night. You marched up to their bedroom door, opening it and standing in the middle of the room.

"George, Fred, I need to know something." You were feeling particularly bold. You pulled your wand out, flicking it and shutting the door immediately.

"What's that?" They asked in unison, genuinely confused for once.

"How do you feel about taking me to Paris?" You smirked.

"Paris? What kind of money do you think--"

"Not that kind of trip you idiots." You rolled your eyes, sauntering over to George, straddling his lap as he laid on the bed. You motioned for Fred to walk over which he did, fixated on you.

"You guys and I, tonight by the lake. We see where things go and if they go in our favor...we take a one way trip to Paris." You ghosted your lips against George's, then leaned in to do the same to Fred.

"Y/N..." George whispered, grinding his hips against you.

"Deal. We'll see you at sunset." Fred was clearly more composed than his brother. You got off of George's lap, hearing him groan was a bit rewarding. You took one glance at their pants and giggled, skipping out of the room.

It was a few minutes till sunset, you were out by the large lake and pacing. Where were they, did they forget? Maybe they thought it over and decided against it. You began to panic until you heard two voices in the distance.

"...And we'll take turns." Fred stopped once he was in view.

"Oh look at what the cat dragged in. Early to our little date tonight? Are you that eager to be with us?" He teased, strutting toward you, George following suit.

"You can't blame me for being curious can you? I..." you looked away, not wanting to admit the obvious feelings that you had. At least not yet. "Never mind, we'll just do this once, yeah?"

They looked at each other, giving a look that you hadn't seen before. They turned back to you and George smirked.

"Well come on now Y/N, you were being so bold earlier, don't tell me you've chickened out now." He teased. You took that as a challenge, pulling him down to your level for a kiss. One that was full of passion, it was soft and sweet and reminded you of George's personality. You felt a tap on your shoulder after a few moments, a jealous Fred pouting with his arms crossed.

"What am I to you, chopped liver? Don't I get a kiss love?" He grabbed your chin, kissing you harder than imagined. His kiss was rough, needy, it perfectly matched his hot-headed and chaotic nature. While he distracted you, George made quick work of your bra from under your shirt. You hadn't even felt his hands until he pinched your nipples and chuckled when you jumped.

"Aw, did that feel good princess?" He whispered in your ear, nipping at it. You pulled away from Fred for a second just to nod and he growled.

"Did I say you could stop kissing me? I thought you'd be able to double task better than this baby...tsk tsk. Guess we'll have to show you how hm?" Fred shook his head, giving George a nod. Within moments you were being swept off your feet and scooped up into the arms of George. You held on for dear life as you heard wind rushing by and then silence.

"Don't worry darling, we've cast a silencing charm and locked our door, no need to worry about being too loud. We want to hear that pretty little voice. Well...when your mouth isn't preoccupied." George set you down and you stood in front of them both. They were staring you down, smirks on their faces.

"Strip darling, can't very well get much done with you in your clothes." George eyed you up and down. While you stripped nervously, they pushed their beds together to make a double bed for the occasion.

"Its not much but it'll do for our trip to the Eiffel tower eh?" Fred ushered you toward the bed. You sat at the edge of it, stark naked, looking at their expressions.

"God you look good enough to eat Y/N..." George licked his lips. "Good thing I'm hungry. Freddie, you take care of her while I'm enjoying my dessert yeah?" George positioned you on your back, legs spread wide for him. He gave you one experimental lick, groaning and laughing.

"Bloody hell you taste divine." He went straight to work, leaving you with your mouth open. You couldn't think straight, not with one of them between your legs eating you out like it was his last meal. He seemed to savor every last drop of your essence and while you were thinking about his skilled tongue, his brother was stripping down behind you.

Fred pulled your hair, your face now inches from his cock. God it was thick, there was no way you could take that all in your mouth, or in any hole honestly.

"Shy love? Don't be, you've already gotten this far, we won't hurt you. Open up for me alright, if you need a moment just tap my thigh." For someone so ready to fuck he was being mighty gentle. That eased you into it, sliding his cock into your mouth as far as it would go. You glanced at him, his head thrown back, hand in his hair. It was almost angelic, and you were sure George looked just as good while buried between your thighs.

"Such a good girl...look at how well you're taking my cock. Pretty little thing, just waiting to get ruined aren't you?" Fred dragged a finger along your throat as he slowly thrusted in and out. Your legs began to shake as George sucked on your clit, making obscene noises to get your attention.

"I think she's close, should I give her what she wants?" George pulled away, leaving you with an ache in your lower belly. Fred mulled it over, grabbing your throat with his hand as he began to move faster.

"Give her what she wants, I bet she'd lover to be full of cum, wouldn't she?" Fred smacked your cheek lightly, earning a groan and slight nod from you. George slid two fingers inside of you, stretching you and rubbing your clit with his thumb. You arched your back off the bed but he pushed you right back down.

"No no, you don't get to move baby, not until we're done with you." George growled, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean. He quickly took off his pants and boxers, positioning himself at your entrance.

"No turning back now love, by the end of tonight you'll need help getting around the train station tomorrow." He slid inside of you, burying himself deep until your hips met his. You grabbed the bed sheets, tapping on Fred's thigh. Fred pulled out leaning down to make sure you were alright.

"Oh fuck! Fuck that feels good!" You moaned immediately, the both of them chuckling.

"You want a moment with George love? I know you're probably feeling a lot of things right now." He caressed your face. You nodded and reached up to give him a kiss. Fred sat back, stroking himself to the rhythm of your breathing as George held you close and pounded into you.

You were empty of any thoughts for once, the only thing going through your head was how much you adored these two. How good they made you feel and how they treated you so gently despite how needy they were to be deep inside you. You loved them, you knew you did but you pretended it was purely platonic. Then it hit, he hit. Hit that bundle of nerves inside of you that made your toes curl.

"George! Please, oh please do that again. I'm so close." You could see stars forming at the edges of your vision, the core inside you was winding up tighter and tighter until it snapped and you felt pure bliss. You came, riding out your first orgasm as George buried himself deep inside of you, releasing thick strands of cum that coated your walls. You fell limp for a moment before you heard a laugh from behind. Oh shit. You were left with the rougher of the two to finish off with and you weren't prepared.

"Come here little minx, come ride daddy's lap." He shifted and you crawled to him, sitting straight down on his lap. You missed the full feeling more than you realized and rested your head against his chest.

"Don't worry love, I've got you." He cooed, grabbing your hips gently before he started to drive into you at a relentless pace. After having just come down from one orgasm you could feel this one creeping up much faster, much harder than the last.

"Fred please i-it's..." You threw your head back, not able to get your words out before you felt the pressure almost snap. Fred grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to lock eyes with him.

"You better cum nice and hard for me princess, got it? Make sure you squeeze around my cock, tell me how good I make you feel." You nodded and came as he thrusted one last time and came inside of you. You got up off of him and fell onto the bed, your legs feeling like complete and utter jelly.

"That was..." you sighed and closed your eyes with a smile.

"Amazing? Fantastic? Best you've ever had?" Fred teased. You giggled and felt something warm and wet against your still throbbing cunt. You looked down and smiled at George who was wiping you clean with a warm cloth.

"Couldn't just leave you hanging sweetheart, you can stay the night here if you need. We can all cuddle on the beds." You nodded slowly as you dozed off. He finished cleaning you and picked you up, putting you into one of his shirts.

"She looks like a little angel doesn't she?" Fred smiled down at your sleeping frame, curled up in the middle of the two beds.

"Yeah she does, maybe we'll tell her about how we feel soon." George replied, nudging his brother.

"Maybe, but for now we'll just play along with her little game. Let’s head to bed." They each laid on one side of you, arms draped over you protectively. One of these days you'll tell them, and maybe they'll reciprocate those feelings, you thought. But today is not that day.

Tag List: @dropdeaddeadass @theweasleyslut @darthwheezely

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #finally updated this shit im so sorry lmao

[reogou]

Promise || bakugou.k

→ pairing: merman!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff

→ warning/s: swear words

→ word count: 5K+

→ A/N: This is my contribution to the Just Add Water || Mermay Event of @bnhabookclub​ . Lmao I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written asdfsdggk. Was really frustrated at this cuz I was taking way too long to finish this. And this went to so many edits ajfjfjg. A very big thank you to @writeiolite​ @clauclaustar​ @b0kuto​ and @lcaita​ for beta reading and for helping me edit this! Credits for @dailydoseofanimescenery​ for permitting me to edit their gif! Anyways, I hope you liked this! Enjoy!

→ prompts: “I’m trying really hard not to freak out right now.” 

“That’s just an urban legend.”

→ tagging: @pretty-settersquad​ @t-amajiki​

The full moon was in a full view as you sat by the shore of the beach, the calming sounds of the sea clearing your mind for a bit. The wind was somewhat cold, but it didn't faze you as you sat by the seashore, feet buried in the sand as you played with them. You could say that today was a great day to relax from all the stress and problems in your life. Your family decided to go on a trip to the Philippines, which was the reason why you're here. It was a great trip, you could say. The people were welcoming and the food here was great. One of your favorites was a street food delicacy called 'Isaw'. It's a barbecued pig or chicken intestines. At first you really didn’t want to try it, but after your mother encouraged you to eat it, you were surprised at how tasty it was. 

The tourist spots were also majestic and beautiful. The beach was clean. You get to visit the falls too, which was one of the tourist spots you loved. The view was breathtaking, almost magical. Even though you didn't get to swim in the falls, the place itself was enough to astonish you. You also enjoyed singing karaoke together with the locals. It never bored you since they were all so lovely and always engaged in conversations with you. 

This trip was not so bad, you enjoyed it. Really. It's just that something felt like a piece was missing. Something that’s somehow stuck in your head. Or rather, someone. Particularly Bakugou. The ash-blonde had always been in your mind for the past days, lingering and distracting you. You just missed him, very much. 

Bakugou had been your crush ever since middle school. Though you only got to hang out with Izuku, the angry boy had always captured your attention. Ever since you had started attending UA, you had been given the chance to become closer to him. Despite his aggressive stance and obnoxious behavior, you never backed out and had always reached out to him. Now that you two had finally become friends, it filled your heart with joy. 

Hanging out with Bakugou and the squad was one of the highlights in your week. But being away from them now, the sense of longing had built up inside you, making your heart feel like it had been longing for a particular emotion. You missed them so much. Not just Bakugou, but the whole class.

You trembled as a chill crawled down your spine. Perhaps it was the cold breeze, or the muted eeriness in the vicinity, but you felt like someone was watching your every move. You gripped your jacket close to your body to protect you from the cold, but the unsettling/disturbing feeling had remained; as if it had a diverse intent to make you feel anxious with your situation right now. You were certain that someone was staring at you. Fear crept inside you, but you merely shrugged it off. There's no way that an intruder could be here, lurking in the shadows. The resort was private and your family had exclusive access to it. Maybe it was just some workers or the night guards and maybe it was only your thoughts that had been bothering you to no ends.

Just as your nerves began to calm down, you almost jumped when a hand appeared in front of you making you scream. A loud laugh filled your ears. You turned around, glaring at Sero who was laughing at your reaction. He only laughed harder when you slapped his shoulders.

"Sero! I'm gonna fucking kill you! I almost had a heart attack because of you!" Your dark haired cousin just continued cackling, annoying you even more. How dare he ridicule you when you were genuinely scared by the unnerving feeling you felt just now?! It didn't even help when he surprised you like that! If you were holding a knife right now, you would've stabbed him already! 

Out of annoyance, you gripped onto his hair. Sero immediately shouted out in pain but he was still laughing. Goodness, he even had the audacity to cry out of laughter! 

"Ouch! Ouch!" He chuckled again, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I promise I won't do it again! Just please let go of my hair!" 

You growled at him, still annoyed at his actions. "Stop laughing, you idiot! Or I will really pull your hair out!" 

You gave him another slap on the shoulders before letting go of his hair. Sero massaged his aching scalp before chuckling again. He was quick to jump out of your reach before you could lunge at him again. You returned your attention back to the calming sea and hugged your knees, turning away from the pesky prick behind you. Of course, Sero had to annoy you more by sitting beside you. In retaliation, you found yourself admiring the moon from above in hopes of regaining your own composure.

"You're really scary when you get angry you know," he snorted, making you glare at his direction. "You always get so violent. I'm starting to think that Bakugou's attitude have influenced you." 

You tensed, just a mention of the ash-blonde made you miss him even more. Sero noticed your change of attitude from earlier. 

"You okay?" The dark-haired boy stared at you with curious eyes, his features softening. It was not a secret from the Bakusquad that you had feelings for that angry boy. Not because you were open about it, but your actions were enough for them to know who it is.

Your gaze shifted to your toes. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just missing someone." 

Sero gave out a sigh and looked over the moon in front of you. "I miss them too." 

You turned your head towards the black-haired boy, resting your cheeks on your knees. 

"By now, we should be going back to the dorms after a drink in the bar. We would probably be dragging a drunk Kaminari while Bakugou would lecture him for being a dumbass and drinking too much even though Aizawa-sensei will check on us in the morning." 

You chuckled at his words, already imagining the scenario. It's not far from reality, though, but you wouldn’t be sober enough to remember the details since you would be a drunken mess too. 

"Yup. It would happen." 

As you two talked about the Bakusquad, your memories of UA and Class A crossed your mind. You tried to shake off those thoughts and forget all the problems you left in Japan, just for today. You wanted to break free from all that chaos right now. Someone might question your decisions because you were aiming to be a hero, but then all you did was run away from your problems. But you couldn’t help it. If you let it get to your mind, you will surely lose control of yourself. And you don’t want that.  

"Well, enough of that. We'll only miss them more." Sero looked over to you, a glint of excitement slowly flashing in his eyes. "Have you heard of the legend about the Mermaids?" 

A mischievous grin was plastered on his face, making you roll your eyes. “That’s just an urban legend.”

"But what if it's true? They say that mermaids of the modern era hide in the deepest part of the sea, some also hide amongst the people to protect their identity. Since they bring fortune and luck, pirates and yakuzas always hunt them down and capture them, the reason why numerous numbers of them are killed due to pain and from the tortures." 

"Sero, you're too old for that crap. Do you really believe that mermaids are still alive nowadays? They're probably extinct already." 

"You never know! Besides, I also learned from the locals that mermaids often gather in the oceans of the Philippines because they're one of the few countries who don't kill mermaids." 

You scoffed at him, not buying his theories. "Even if the Filipinos didn't kill them, they would probably be killed by other countries already." 

"But-" Just when Sero was about to defend his theory, your grandmother called you back for dinner, interrupting your conversation. As you walked back towards the resort's lounge, both of you were oblivious of the vermilion eyes gleaming in the dark, staring at your figure.

-

The sounds of crashing waves filled your ears as you stared at the sea in front of you. The waves were a little rougher today. The moon was still in view, but partially hidden by the clouds. Nevertheless, gazing at the moon could always calm you down. Regardless of where you were, or whether the moon could be seen that night, you always took comfort in knowing that the moon was there to guide you.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when soft murmurs reached your ears. Out of curiosity, you peeked at the other side of the rock formations. The whispers were still a little indistinguishable, so you decided to inch closer. You knew you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but there's just something inside you telling you to find out who was behind those rocks. 

“...shouting, Y/N wouldn't notice us! If we ever get caught, it's your damn fault!"

Your eyes widened at the mention of your name. Your heartbeat halted momentarily as you felt your mind go blank. Why were you being mentioned? And more importantly, who the hell were they? Determined to find out, you tip-toed towards them, only to find a familiar head of ash blonde hair in front of you.

Katsuki?

-

Katsuki scoffed under his breath as he swam towards the shore of Palawan, a Filipino beach that doubled as their hideout. He just came back from Japan after a mission to send some supplies to the western groups. The trip was pretty short since mermaids and mermen were able to swim faster than any other sea creature. 

If anyone knew of Bakugou being a merman, they would've laughed their asses off and think that the idea was ridiculous and impossible. But the world is filled with surprises, and one of those is Bakugou being a merman. If Shitty Hair and the other's were to see him in his merman form, they would most likely freak out. 

"Bakugou, have you already sent the supplies to the western groups?" One of the leaders of the eastern group greeted him. With a face void of emotions, Bakugou stopped swimming and nodded at the leader, his ash-blonde hair floating with the waters. The leader looked at him in the eyes, examining his expression.

"You know you don't have to do this, Bakugou." The leader spoke, his expression softening. Bakugou only scoffed and turned away, clicking his tongue in the insides of his cheeks.

"Shut up." The leader heaved out a sigh. Bakugou growled as the leader patted his shoulders. He only chuckled at Bakugou's reaction and smiled warmly at the young merman.

"If you really want to see her, she's just by your reach. She's the reason why you're here at the headquarters, right? You did that again yesterday. What's the difference if you do it again?" 

Bakugou clicked his tongue once more and glared at the man in front of him. "The hell are you saying, old man?" 

Shaking his head, the leader just let the rudeness of the young merman go. After all, the whole clan was used to Bakugou’s attitude ever since he was a child. Even though Bakugou always made snarky comments and pushed them away, they know what he's going through on the lands, and still understand where he's coming from. 

"Anyways, I'm gonna head out. You can visit her again if you want. She's at The Coast right now." Bakugou's body tensed after realizing that you were so near. Just a few miles from his reach. 

Although he doesn't openly portray his feelings well, he does miss you. A lot. His world just doesn't feel the same when you’re gone. Every time he has to go back to the ocean and leave you, the feeling of loneliness clung to him. It felt like he couldn't live without you in his reach. And it was painful. So painful that all he wants is to come back and be with you, even though you don't know his feelings for you.

"Good luck, young man." Was the leader's last words before he swam away, the pressure from his tail and speed making Bakugou lose balance. He clicked his tongue in exasperation and began to swim towards the headquarters. But it felt like something was pulling him off course, tugging him towards the direction of The Coast, where you were. He tried to ignore it and continue his way towards the headquarters, but the force was too powerful to fight with. The more he struggled, the more he was being dragged towards you. Shutting his eyes closed in frustration, Bakugou heaved out a sigh.

"Ah...fuck it."

-

As soon as Bakugou's head emerged from the waters, the calming lights from the resort greeted him. He scanned his surroundings, searching for your silhouette. And there you were, sitting by the rocks, your serene face gazing at the moon above you. His eyes softened at your appearance, but he immediately shook his head to empty his thoughts. Careful to not alert your sense, he started swimming towards your direction slowly. Just when he was about a few inches from you, a hand shot out and pulled his arm down the ocean. Bakugou’s brows immediately furrowed at the sudden tug, and he turned around to glare at the culprit, Awase, who was scowling at Bakugou as well. 

"What the fuck, Bakugou? Do you want to get caught or something? What the hell was that?" 

"Oi, what the fuck, extra?! Who the hell told you to drag me down so easily, huh?! You wanna fight?!" Bakugou's deep voice echoed in the waters, making Awase's eyes widened in fear.

"Shut the hell up man! She could hear you!" Awase hissed at him, tightening his grip on Bakugou's shoulders.

"Let go of me, you asshole!" Bakugou shrugged the other merman's arms off of him, growling. 

"Bakugou, this is not the right time to fight! Let's get out of here before she notices us!" Awase tried to pull him away from the rock formations, but Bakugou was persistent and refused to leave, glaring at the merman.

"No fucking way, asshole. You don't have the right to boss me around. And stop following me, will you?!" Before Awase could stop Bakugou, but the ash-blonde was already swimming back to the surface. When Bakugou emerged from the waters, he noticed that you were still staring at the sky above. Bakugou attempted to swim closer towards you, but Awase had already caught up and tried to stop Bakugou yet again. Out of irritation, Bakugou growled at him, making Awase flinch a little.

"Bakugou, I swear to god, let's go before she sees us!" Awase was getting more and more desperate. Why can't Bakugou understand him? If Bakugou got caught, he would face grave consequences. Why was Bakugou acting so reckless?

"What the fuck are you even fussing about?" Bakugou was boiling with anger, and his fury was evident on his face. "If you just stop shouting, Y/N wouldn't notice us! It would be your damn fault if we got caught!"

Suddenly, a small yelp interrupted their heated argument. Awase flinched at the unexpected noise; horror could be seen on his face as he slowly looked at the young girl behind him, who was trying to peek at the two mermen. In shock, you smiled nervously at them, subtly shifting backward for fear that they would harm you.

"Uh... hi?" 

"What the fuck?!"

Out of panic, you lost your balance, a loud shriek escaping your lips as you fell into the water. While underwater, you saw their tails as you struggled to reach for air. Thankfully, Bakugou immediately caught you and brought you back to the surface. Your heart was beating erratically as you caught your breath. Preventing yourself from falling again, you grabbed onto Bakugou’s shoulders for support, your florid face buried in the crook of his neck as you desperately reinforced yourself to regain your composure. Once your breathing became steady, you came face-to-face with Bakugou.

What the heck? Your eyes widened as you took in the view in front of you. Why does this man have to be so hot? You watched as the water cascaded down from his soft hair onto his nose, to his plump lips, and to his chiseled jaw. You couldn’t help but gulp at his appearance - he looked like the Greek God of the ocean, Poseidon. While checking him out, your gaze lowered to his biceps, onto his exposed chest and abs. Ohlala~ Can someone bring in some coffee? The bread is already here.

"Done checking me out, Shitty woman?" His sharp words caught you by surprise, as you blushed at the realization that you were checking him out so openly. Out of embarrassment, you buried your head on his shoulders again to hide the blush painted on your cheeks. You wished the waters below you would cut you in half and swallow you alive. 

"Now, don't be shy. You can stare all you want." Bakugou chuckled, making you whine and punch him playfully on the chest. 

"Shut up." 

-

“I’m trying really hard not to freak out right now.”

Bakugou sighed. Getting caught was not part of his plan. But there's nothing he could do about it. You already found out his secret. 

"Y/N." Bakugou started, his voice a lot gentler than usual, causing you to flinch when he called out your attention. Not only is Bakugou a lot softer than he usually is, this was also the first time he addressed you with your real name, and not those stupid nicknames of his. Something inside you tingled at how your name rolled out of his tongue. You never thought that Bakugou calling your name would have an effect on you.

"Oi, are you listening?" Bakugou frowned.

"Oh, sorry." You chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of your head. "I was not listening. What did you say again?"

Bakugou heaved out a sigh. "I said, now that you already know what I am, you should not tell anyone about this. You understand that?" 

You nodded in his direction, understanding his words. 

There was a long silence as both of you stared at the moon, sitting on the rock formations once again. Bakugou had moved you here, after the incident a while ago. Awase excused himself after informing Bakugou that he has to take care of this mess before the leaders find out. You couldn't comprehend what was happening even until now. Seeing him sitting beside you, his gorgeous, golden tail in full view, all this felt like a dream. Not to mention the fact that you and Sero were just arguing yesterday about how mermaids and mermen are not real. But here you are, coming face-to-face with one of them. And out of all the mermen out there, Bakugou was one of them. 

"Hey, Bakugou. I wanna ask something." You locked eyes with him, your eyes full of curiosity as they stared into his vermilion orbs. Bakugou raised both of his brows in your direction, awaiting your next words.

"What?" The unsettling feeling of anticipation and fear slowly crept up on Bakugou. He may not have shown it, but he was terrified for your reaction when he saw you staring at him with eyes wide in shock. What if you freak out and get scared of him? And now that you're starting to question him, all the emotions that he felt before unwillingly came crashing back. What were you gonna say? Would you ask him about being a merman? Would you ask him to stay away from you? Would you-

"What shampoo do you use?" You felt Bakugou freeze on the spot, an unexplainable expression plastered in his face.

"Hah?!" Out of all the things he was expecting you to ask, the shampoo that he uses was not one of them. Heck, it didn't even cross his mind!

"What did you say?!" You flinched at his shouting, starting to regret that you asked him about his shampoo.

"Is it...is it a secret?" As you spit out the words from your lips, your voice got smaller and smaller too. You backed out slightly, scared of what he might do to you. At this rate, you looked like a puppy who was about to get beat by it’s master. A Chihuahua, on that note.

"What?!" The ash-blonde merman stared dumbfounded at you. In disbelief, he couldn’t help but laugh at your ridiculous question. Meanwhile, you stared at him in awe. His face while laughing was so ethereal that it almost made you cry. Why the fuck does he have to be so beautiful?! Why? Shortly after, Bakugou stopped laughing but was still holding his stomach while wiping the tears away from his eyes.

"Ahh… that was a good laugh after ages." He chuckled at himself and looked over your direction. "This is why I admire you." 

At this point, it was your turn to be frozen in place as his words slowly sank down your brain. Seems like Bakugou also realized what he said and froze too. Oh god. He gulped. A blush started to emerge on his cheeks as your face became red too. Trying to hide his embarrassment, Bakugou cleared his throat and focused on the moon hanging above the both of you, hiding his face from your line of sight.

"W-what I mean is that I-I just like your personality. It's not like I l-like you in a romantic way or whatever crap." 

You snickered at his pathetic excuse. Even though Bakugou tries to hide it, the redness on his neck and ears didn't go unnoticed by you. You bet that if he turned around right now, his face would be as red as a tomato. You chuckled at that thought which made Bakugou glare at you.

"Stop laughing!" Ignoring his complaints, your laugh got louder when he turned to face you. Your assumptions was correct - Bakugou’s looks did resemble a tomato due to the intense redness on his face. 

"You're so cute!" You were laughing so hard, your stomach started to hurt and tears started to well up at the corner of your eyes. The ash-blonde man hissed at you once more, the scowl on his face making it obvious of how annoyed he is right now.

"I said stop laughing! If you don't stop right now, I'm gonna throw you to the water." Despite his threatening words, Bakugou was actually enjoying this moment, seeing your cheerful face in front of him. All of this is just perfect. You're actually cute when you laugh, but there's no way in hell would he say that to your face.

"Ok, ok! I'm gonna stop now." However, you couldn’t stop chuckling. No matter how hard you tried, stopping was not an option right now. Bakugou clicked his tongue in irritation but didn't say anything. Once you've calmed down, you grinned at him, eyes shining with happiness.

"Bakugou…" You started, "I'm happy to see you right now." 

Your words struck through Bakugou's heart. He was glad to know that you were content about seeing him. His heart skipped a beat at that thought and the blush on his face was tinted with a shade of crimson yet again. At this point, he was already sure of his feelings for you.

"Y-you should be, Shitty woman." He clicked his tongue again, hiding the smile that started to form. Chuckling, you gazed up at the moon, the stars surrounding it making the scenery even more beautiful. You could just sit here with him all day and you wouldn’t get bored. After all, this was what you wanted, to be with him even for just a bit.

"By the way..." Your brows shot up when Bakugou spoke, his eyes still glued at the moon. When he felt you staring at him, he turned towards you, brows arched. 

"Aren't you cold?"

Now that he mentioned it, you were practically freezing right on your spot. The cold gust of wind didn’t help either and only added on to the chilly sensation.

"You should go and change first before you catch a cold." His calloused hands ran through his damp hair, the tiny droplets of water only made him look more handsome to the eye.

"I don't want to…" 

"Huh? Why? Aren't you freezing? You wanna die or something?" 

You grinned, a small giggle escaping your lips. Heaving out a sigh, you looked back at the moon above you, stars twinkling around the celestial body. You pulled your knees up to your chest as you gazed back at Bakugou, who was eyeing your every movement.

"I don't want this to end."

"What?"

"This," You pointed at him. "You and me." And then to your chest. "Us, conversing peacefully. I don't wanna stop or ruin this perfect moment by going back to my room to change, while knowing that by the time I'm done, you'll be gone." 

Bakugou’s heart broke into pieces when he noticed the pain that crossed your crystalline eyes. He knows that you have feelings for him. And he knows he feels the same. He knows what you want, what you need. But he can’t give it to you right now. All he can give you now is assurance. That one day, after all of this comes to an end, he will come back to you.

A heavy sigh came out from his own lips as he shifted his weight to his arms and placed them behind him. There was an emotion that was plastered on his face you couldn’t name. "Go. Change. I won't be leaving." Bakugou glanced over his shoulders, eyes lingering on your face with that soft look of his, his vermilion eyes mirroring your own. 

"I'll stay. Just trust me.”

Two sentences. Those five words were enough for your tears to drop one by one, your heart filling with joy and love for the man in front of you. You could genuinely feel the emotion behind his words. The assurance. The promise. His feelings. All of them embraced you as Bakugou stared at you with that emotion close to yours, an emotion you can finally name. The emotion called love. 

"...wait."

A splash startled you when Bakugou jumped towards the waters. You waited for him to appear from the waters. You waited. And waited. But nothing. Minutes have passed but there was still no sign from him. Disappointment filled your heart at the thought that he already left. Didn’t he promised to stay? He didn't even wait for you to leave. You tried to think if it as a logical explanation. Maybe he had some errands to do. But would it hurt to say a simple goodbye to you? Was that really hard to do? A sigh escaped your lips as you fumbled with your fingers, distracting yourself from the aching pain growing in your heart. You thought that maybe, your relationship with him somewhat grew. You were certain, so sure that he feels the same way about you too. It may not be the same level as your feelings, but you know that he’s starting to like you too. The blush on his face, the stark emotions on his face, and his softness a while ago were enough clues for you to connect the dots. Bakugou was never that soft to anyone, only to you.

"Hey." You looked over your shoulders when you heard a voice coming from behind you. Seeing the familiar smooth ash-blonde hair of his, the feeling of euphoria and excitement filled your heart when you saw Bakugou below you, hair damp from the waters. He was holding a plastic bag with jeans inside it. You closed your eyes when a light appeared around his body, hurting you a bit. As soon as the blinding light disappeared, you came face-to-face with Bakugou's chest. You shrieked out of shock and moved backwards, your face turning red once more at the realization that the ash-blonde male was naked in front of you.

"What the hell, Bakugou!" You immediately shielded your eyes to prevent seeing something you will regret. “Get dressed!” 

Bakugou snorted at your reaction, amusement dancing in his red orbs. “It’s not like you don’t want to see my body.”

“Bakugou!” Bakugou only laughed and got dressed. When he was done, you felt a piece of warm cloth placed around your shoulders, the comfort making you purr a little. He pulled your hands away from your face and handed you a white, glowing pearl. It was so beautiful you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. 

You looked up at him with your eyes filled with curiosity, “What’s this?” 

“It’s a pearl, dumbass.” His cheeks started growing red and he averted his eyes from you. “It’s a...a p-promise pearl for us...mermen…”

“Oh…” Your cheeks heated up, as a tinge of red hue began to dust it as you blinked at the information he gave, gripping at the blanket wrapped around you. What does he mean by that? Is he...giving you hints? Or what?

"Uh...why would you give this to me?"

"Don't you understand, dumbass? I'm giving that to you as a promise that I will claim you when the day comes. So take that shit and put it in your forehead."

"Huh?!" You felt like your world was spinning. You don't understand why Bakugou was saying this all to you. You felt utterly bewildered by all that’s happening right now.

"Bakugou-," Bakugou clicked his tongue before snatching the white pearl from you. He kissed the pearl and placed it on your lips. Your cheeks burned even more when you realized that you had just kissed Bakugou indirectly. His calloused pads grazed on your soft cheeks as he pulled the pearl away from you, the pearl now flat on his hands. You were amazed at how he did that, but the pain on your forehead distracted you.

"Ouch! Bakugou, it hurts!" You tried to back away from him, but Bakugou placed his hands firmly on the back of your head to stop your struggling.

"Shhh...don't worry, just endure it a little bit more. The pain will go away." He cooed, his hot breath fanning the top of your head, sending butterflies into your stomach. When the pain subsided, you stared at Bakugou's features.

"Bakugou..." He arched his brows while still looking at the pearl on your forehead.

"What?"

"Why are you so...I don't know, soft right now?"

Bakugou stilled at your words. "W-what? I'm not, idiot."

You just smiled at him.

"You promised, ok?"

A long silence fell between the both of you. You thought Bakugou wouldn't answer, but his hands dropped on your shoulders, his grip tightening as he raised your chin up, making you look directly at his eyes.

"I know." He whispered, just enough to reach your ears. "But I wouldn't call that as a promise. I don't want to break that. So I will do all of my best to make you mine. You understand? So don't let any other man get close to you. Especially Tape Face." He gritted his teeth at the memory of you and Sero talking last night.

"What? But he's just my cousin!" You laughed.

"I don't care. Tsk. Now go and change your clothes or you'll catch a cold."

"Ok." You stood up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheeks before running away from him, giggling at yourself. "I'll be back, Bakugou!" You couldn't believe that you just kissed Bakugou on the cheeks. You felt like a highschool teenager at that moment, gushing over her crush.

"Y/N!" You stopped on your tracks and turned around, facing Bakugou whose face was once again red.

"It's Katsuki."

Your heartbeat raced 10 times faster. It was like you ran 3 kilometers in just a minute at how fast your heart raced inside your ribcage. A genuine smile appeared on your lips, smiling cheerfully at the ash blonde just a few meters away from you. At that moment, everything felt so right, everything felt so surreal. Like a happy ending in a disney movie, with the two main characters starting a new journey together. A new chapter in a book, the book that contains the story of you and Bakugou's. Of you and Katsuki's.

"Okay, Katsuki."

#bnhabookclub #mermay #reogou #reogou library #bnha #mha #bnha fluff #bnha x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha mermaid au #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou #bnha bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader

[queen-scribbles]

OC Interview-- Trick

Tagged again by @actualanxiousswampwitch​, going with Trick this time. (art’s by commander-sarah)

► Name ➔ “Trick.” She bites her lip, then nods. ► Are you single ➔ “Yeah, at the moment.”  ► Are you happy? ➔ She laughs. “Yeah, I’d say I am.”  ► Are you angry? ➔ “Nah, and it takes a lot to rile me.” ► Are your parents still married? ➔ “They might be, if they were alive.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth place ➔ “I grew up in Maj.” She plays with the end of her braid, her thumb rubbing over the streak of white hair. ► Hair color ➔ "Um, I guess you’d call it coppery brown? I’ve never really thought about how I’d describe it. ‘Cept for the stripe, of course.” She jerks her thumb at the narrow streak of white that runs through her hair.  ► Eye color ➔ “Hazel.” She grins. “Which means sometimes they look brown, sometimes they look green, and sometimes I have no idea what color they’re tryin’ to be.” ► Birthday ➔ “18 Coppersun, far as I know.” Her brows arch playfully.  “Guess it’s fitting, with my hair.” ► Mood ➔ “Pretty happy, most of the time.”   ► Gender ➔  “I’m female.” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Oh, I like summer. It’s fun to go swimmin’ and not wear shoes.” She winks. ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Early bird,” she grins cheerfully. “Especially when there’s khav.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love? ➔ She cocks her head, then shakes it. “Nah, haven’t found anyone y-” She’s distracted by someone walking by outside the window and waves. “Hey, Trouble!”  ► Do you believe in love at first sight? ➔ “Huh? Oh, um.” She tugs on her braid. “Nah, don’t think it works like that.” ► Who ended your last relationship? ➔ “Never had any,” she says blithely, shrugging with one shoulder. ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart? ➔ “Not that I know of.” She wrinkles her nose. “I hope not.” ► Are you afraid of commitments? ➔ “What’s there to be scared of?” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Oh, lots of people.” She laughs. “Trouble, mostly. Briony, Red, Caine....” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer? ➔ She shakes her head. “I move around too much. Well, til joinin’ the Shepherds, I guess.” Another grin. clearly a familiar expression for her, “Maybe I’ll get one now. Since I’m gettin’ famous an’ all.” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Nope.” 

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Love.” ► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Ooooh. Lemonade. Lemonade is delicious.” ► Cats or dogs ➔ “I gotta pick just one?” She pouts briefly, then laughs. “I guess I’d say dogs, in that case.” ► A few best friends or many regular friends? ➔ “However many I wind up with; I don’t try to control the number.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in? ➔ “Hmmm. I do like to go out an’ do things with my friends, but there are times you just feel like stayin’ in, y’know?” She laughs sheepishly. “Or sometimes you hafta stay in, but company makes it fun. Like a couple nights ago, me an’ Trouble had to stay back to clean the guns’cause we’d been puttin’ it off all sennight and Blade finally called us on it. Shoulda been boring, sittin’ there cleanin’ guns, but having company made it not so bad.” She smiles. “It was actually pretty fun.” ► Day or night ➔ “I like the day a whole lot better.” Something uneasy flickers briefly through her eyes. “Night’s... night’s not my favorite.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ She snorts and shakes her head. “Stealth ain’t really my thing. I never even bothered tryin’ to sneak out.” ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Couple times, yeah.” She taps her leg.  “Cramps’ll do that.”  ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ She sighs and huffs loose wisps of hair out her eyes with another sheepish smile. “Yeah. I do right now, actually. Chandry has this gun at his shop, really cool and totally badass. I’m savin’ up for it, but I’m not quite there yet.” ► Wanted to disappear? ➔ She shakes her head. “Why would I want that? “

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “Hmm.” She tips her head a moment, shrugs. “I guess smile, but eyes are pretty great, too.” ► Shorter or taller ➔ “Don’t really care. I’m not picky,” she laughs. ► Intelligence or attraction ➔ “Attraction. I’m not gonna go with a guy for bein’ smart, I’d go with him ‘cause I like him. Y’know. Like him, like him.” ► Hook-up or relationship ➔ “Relationship for me, though I can see how some would prefer not havin’ strings.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “We did, but my parents died a good while ago.” Her briefly sober expression brightens. “But I guess I could call the Shepherds my family, and we do mostly get along.” ► Would you say you have a ‘messed up life’? ➔ She laughs so hard she almost falls off her chair. “Other people probably would, lookin’ at it,” she allows. “But I wouldn’t call it messed up, no.”  ► Have you ever ran away from home? ➔ “Nope.” ► Have you ever gotten kicked out? ➔ “Also nope.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends? ➔ “Wouldn’t keep ‘em as my friend if I did. Some of ‘em annoy a little on occasion, sure, but I wouldn’t say I hate any of them.” ► Do you consider all your friends good friends? ➔ “Oh, yeah.” She rocks the chair back on two legs and sets it back with a thud. “Anyone I wanna be friends with eventually gets to bein’ a good friend.”  ► Who is your best friend? ➔ “In the Shepherds? Definitely Trouble, by a long shot.” She grins gleefully as she flips her braid back over her shoulder. “Get it? ‘Long shot’? ‘Cause we’re both gunslingers? Anyway..” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ That same briefly uneasy something flicks in her eyes before she smiles and shrugs. “Nobody, technically, ‘cause I don’t even know everything about me. But Trouble and Briony are both pretty close.”

#tagged #elyana trick #god she got to make a gun pun she is a HAPPY woman #shoh

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon VII

Jason is a CEO: Part VII

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

The next two parts are hella long. Enjoy my loves!

i want to

tangle with you

and fall into you

and feel all of you

your breath, your skin,

your hands, your heart,

your everything...

all of it, all of you

all around me

-butterflies rising

“Good morning Frank, why does it feel like I haven’t seen you in forever?”

“It’s only been a week,” He laughed, “Are you having withdrawal symptoms?”

“I think so,” He nodded gravely, “Heart ache, constant longing, and inability to stop thinking about cars.”

“Sounds like a terrible case.” Frank grinned, pulling the car into the road.

“Shall we grab some coffee to mend our gaped days?” He pouted.

“Reedpipes it is,” Dark eyes sparkled.

“How’s your grandmother?”

“She’s alright, thank you. Stubborn as a mule about going to the old age home but I told her I can’t be worrying about her while she’s alone in that big house. She says if I forget about her she’ll come back to haunt me and make my life miserable.”

Jason giggled and then quickly sobered at his friends look, “Oh she’s serious?”

“As the plague. My grandmother has never been the type to shower you in cookies and sweet hopes. I have no doubt she’ll be pouring river water in my shoes if I even think to forget about her.”

“Well then I better make sure you get as many days off as you need. She may haunt me for working you too hard.”

His friend shoved his shoulder a laugh rasping in his throat.

“What are the plans this week?” He held the door open to allow Frank to pass as they walked into the café.

“Nothing exciting,” He shrugged his shoulders, but Jason noticed the small blush.

“Looks like nothing,” He grinned.

The man stealthily ignored him, saddling up to the counter and engaging in a conversation with their friend.

“Jason Grace,” Grover Underwood greeted brightly, as he did every morning, “You do look much more this morning.”

“Much more what?” He frowned.

The barista gave him a warm, knowing smile, “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a chai,” He muttered, still puzzling over those words.

“And I’ll have a mocha,” Frank mumbled, excusing himself to take a phone call.

“What did you mean by more?”

“These past few months you have looked duller, like someone has taken the wind out of your lungs, the light from your eyes, the storm that sits in your chest. But now you look more. You look alive again.”

Words were a scarce commodity on his tongue, his brain a blunt rock trying to whittle broken toothpicks. Before he could conjure any coherent answer, Frank returned, grabbing their coffees and nudging him to a table.

“I know I haven’t been all that engaged these last few months,” He began, collapsing into his chair and taking in the man across from him. “I’m sorry for that. How are you?”

“We’ve got lives Grace, it happens sometimes.” His friend shrugged, tipping his cup in acknowledgement, “But I’m good thank you. We do need to talk though.”

“This sounds like a breakup. I swear to the gods Frank if you tell me you’re moving across the country or something I am going to murder you.” He narrowed his eyes, body tensing.

Black eyes danced with laughter, “It’s nothing bad, I uh– the thing is Hazel and I are….dating?”

“Oh,” He smiled, “Well that’s great! It’s about time honestly.”

“What?” He blinked in surprise.

“You’ve been pining over her ever since she came to work for me. I may have been preoccupied but I’m not oblivious.” He giggled.

“So you aren’t mad?”

“Mad?” He reeled, “At what? Of course I’m not mad. You are both consenting adults who know how to be professional and more importantly you guys are my friends. I trust you completely.”

“Wow,” Relief flooded through his face, “Thanks Jase.”

“You never have to be afraid to tell me something you know that, right?”

Frank nodded, black hair flopping, “Shall we get to work then?”

Grover’s words were still circling in his mind when they got to work and stayed with him through the day. He had always thought in his days since him and Luke broke up, he had hidden his feelings well enough from the rest of the world. It was a flinching realisation that he had not done as good a job as he had thought, especially if a barista could pick up on it. What had his friends and family known all these months?

***

That evening he walked into his building feeling a mix of conflicting emotions he wasn’t ready to unpack. He gave a distracted nod to the concierge and stepped into the elevator, sending off a final email to end a blissfully productive work week. Leo’s friend Harley was happy to meet and discuss the project and Jason prayed it would all go well. Working with Octavian felt like poison injected into his bloodstream. It left a vile taste in his mouth.

Shaking the thoughts, he walked into his apartment, chucking the keys on the counter and tugging off his tie. This evening he was going to sit down in front of the fire with a book, feet wrapped in fuzzy socks, and a finger of whiskey to savour.

“Jason,”

“FUCK!” He clutched his chest, whipping around “Holy Hades you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” The voice was soft, tired.

“What the fuck are you doing here Piper?”

“Please, please just hear me out.”

“How did you even get in?”

“They let me up. They think we’re still dating.”

He scoffed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “I told you I need some space. Time. I just need time.”

“I understand. I know this is probably creepy, but you weren’t taking my calls and none of our– your friends will help me get a hold of you. I just need to know if you’ll ever hear me out?” She sighed, and then quickly added, “It doesn’t have to be today. I just want to know if you’re willing to listen?”

He didn’t know how to tell her he would rather drown himself in tar than watch her justify their actions. He didn’t know how to tell himself that wasn’t true. He wanted to know why. That question burned like an SOS signal in his brain. Why did they do it? Why did they hurt him?

“I–“ He didn’t know what he wanted. He did. He wanted to sleep, to run away, to throw his name into the wind and let the flowers sing it till it was unrecognisable. He wanted to disappear. “I will hear you out. But I’ll reach out to you, when I’m ready.” He collapsed onto the couch.

She nodded, opened her mouth, and then snapped it shut.

“Is that all?”

She nodded again, turned to leave. “For what it’s worth Jason, I never intended to hurt you and I’m sorry that I did.” Before he had time to formulate a response, she had shut the door quietly behind her. He didn’t hear the soft sob that left his ex-girlfriend as she walked down the passage and out of his life.

He scrambled into the shower, scrubbing off the day with brutal force. He wasn’t sure when his life had turned into a mess of emotions and risks, but he didn’t like it. He wanted his order and discipline back. Wanted to wake up with a run, sign a beneficial contract with a business who cares, and collapse into a warm bed with the feeling of accomplishment and calm that had once followed him. He turned on some music, drowned out the voice in his head that says the life he remembers wasn’t calm it was safe, and it was boring. Some days he felt he’d rather take boring over this. He felt like someone had taken a battering ram to his nerves. But he’s pulled from his spiral by his phone, which dinged softly on the nightstand. Rubbing the towel through his wet hair he picked up the device to see one new message.

Zoe: Hey, was just thinking about you.

He smiled at the screen, thinking about the lady in question. It was too early to say where all this may lead but the butterflies in his stomach and the blush in his cheeks gave him hope.

Jason: All bad things, I hope?

Zoe: You Mr summa cum laude? Mr one party day per two study days? Mr we can’t go into that garden cause it’s private property? ;)

He laughed, half regretting telling her all the goody-two shoes ideals he maintained in college.

Jason: I never should have let you drag that out of me

She sent a laughing emoji back and he fell into bed, holding his phone to his chest. Maybe one day when he runs away to live in the woods he’ll ask if she wants to come. Maybe one day they’ll call the forest home. He almost pitched the idea, almost called her and lets it all rush into the air but at the last minute he chickened out. Finger hovering over the call button, but never quite reaching it. His plans for the evening were demolished when minutes later his eyes drooped closed, phone slipping out of his grasp and onto the pillow. 

He dreamt of trees, the wind, sunshine made cloth, sparkling black eyes. He dreamt of life.

***

Jason was bubbling with happiness as he finished draining the pasta and drizzling some olive oil over it. He glanced around his apartment making sure the pillows were straight- as if they ever had the chance to get scrunched under his eagle eye- and the furniture was in its designated spots on the grid of tile. Zoe was coming over and although his apartment was generally immaculate the universe had a bad habit of stirring things up just when you think you’ve got it handled.

A knock at his door set off the zoo of nerves in his stomach but more than that it made him grin with overwhelming happiness.

“Miss Nightshade,” He opened the door.

“Mr Grace. You do look dashing.”

He scrunched his nose at her a gleam in his eyes, “Oh this old thing.” He pulled at the panda onesie she had made him order.

Her laugh was bright and beautiful.

“So what are we having for dinner? And is white wine okay?” She set the bottle on the counter along with her miniature backpack.

“Perfect, and we’re having pasta.”

She lit up at that running to hug him, “You do know the way to a woman’s heart don’t you?”

“I think it’s just to yours,” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to him.

“Fine by me. I’m not a big sharer anyway.” She winked.

He giggled into her neck, relishing in her clean spicy smell, and the warmth of her body.

“We have to take a selfie before we sit down to it. I want us in matching onesies documented for all eternity.”

“Me too, Leo says he’s never going to believe me unless I send him a picture.”

An hour, one photoshoot, two Instagram posts and a lock-screen change later they finally settled in to eat supper and watch whatever movie they could find on Netflix. He poured the wine and handed her a glass, tipping his own in her direction.

With a soft clink he brushed their lips together, “Happy three months my stella.”

She sucked in a breath, “My mom used to call me that. She said it rivaled my–“

“Your eyes,”

She nodded, looking at him as if he had read every page of the book that made up her, “Happy three months my thyella.”

He smiled into her, putting their wine down and cupping her face.

“The storm and the stars?” He breathed, “Sounds cosmic.”

“Sounds like magic,” Her eyes fluttered.

He closed the minuscule distance between them, capturing her lips softly. She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged him impossibly closer. There was electricity and light pouring into their souls as they explored each, as they found life bubbling between them. He broke away for a split second before kissing across her jaw and down her neck. She moaned when his teeth nipped her collar bone and his lips soothed it over. He grabbed the shoulder of her onesie gently and looked up at her,

“Can I?”

She nodded, half breathless with need, “Please.”

So he tugged down the fleecy pyjamas, both of them giggling.

“Why pandas?”

“It was between this and sheep,” She laughed.

He kissed her shoulder with a smile and tugged the zip down fully.

“You sure?”

She cupped his cheeks and pulled him up, so they were eye to eye, “I’m sure, if I want to stop, I’ll tell you.”

He kissed her again, overwhelmed by his feelings, his happiness.

“And Jase?” She rested her forehead against his, “If you want to stop you tell me.”

He beamed at her, brilliant and unrestrained, “We are never getting to dinner.”

Pasta for breakfast, it turns out, is just as good as pasta for supper.

***

His shoes against the marbled floor of his office building clacked in time with his heart as he walked through the lobby on Monday morning, a week later.  His thoughts spun with the things he had to do today and the people he had to make nice with. As much as he’s loved Project Hestia this last stretch has given him more trouble than the whole venture together. Him and the community were agitated to get it finished.

“Hazel Levesque, please tell me you have a cappuccino for me?” He groaned, stepping into his office.

“Good morning Boss,” A bright smile and bouncing curls greeted him, “Cappa is on your desk, and one Miss Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano is waiting for you,”

“You’re a gem,” He blew her a kiss and disappeared behind his glass door.

“Jason Grace,” Reyna smirked, a coffee cup dangling from her manicured fingers.

He narrowed his eyes at her, “Is that my cappuccino?”

“If you can prove it,”

“Lawyers,” He grumbled, “How are you?”

“Great thank you,” And she was. He peered at her, his lawyer of many years. She was glowing.

“You look great,” He smiled softly.

“Now, now pretty boy, don’t get all sappy on me,” She scrunched her nose, “I hear we’re meeting new contractors today.”

“Yea Valdez sent them my way. I’m hoping we click because Titan gives me bad vibes.”

“Well me too. I looked through their updated contract and there’s still some things I’m not comfortable with.”

“Let’s get through this meeting with Harley and then bitch about contracts.”

Harley Davids was a small man with infinite energy and the spark of life glittering in his warm brown eyes. He was full of ideas and enthusiasm and listened intently to everything Jason wanted for this project. By the time the meeting was over, a rough draft of an incredible contract was drafted. They had been in the meeting room for two hours, but it had felt like mere minutes and when Harley left, whistling down the hallway and into the elevator Jason had turned to Reyna and hugged her for all she was worth. She laughed at him but squished his ribs back.

“I think we deserve to celebrate that!” He cheered, as they walked back into his office where Hazel was having an animated conversation with someone.

“Percy!” Reyna squealed, slamming into his open arms.

He mumbled something into her hair, arms wrapped around her torso. Jason looked away, hating the pang that hit his chest. He longed for something that easy, that welcoming.

“Jason,” A velvety voice said, “How are you?”

He snapped himself to the present, “Wonderful, thank you. It’s good to see you again.”

“Oh you two know each other?” Reyna smiled curiously.

“Know is a strong word,” He laughed, “We met at the university dinner a few months ago,”

“Well I think we should all go out this weekend. We have something to celebrate after all!” She smiled, looking between them.

“Absolutely, everyone has been waiting for this project to close and it finally is. Haze, you and Frank? And I’ll invite Valdez and Annabeth.” He turned to his lawyer, “You get the word to Nico and Will?”

“Sounds like a party, send me the details. Oh, and we are not going to the disco bar again! I refuse to dress up in neon pink and striped socks.” Reyna gave him a warning look.

“This sounds like a story for the books?” Percy’s eyes danced.

“They are all evil, and I spent a good two months getting glitter out of everywhere.”

A golden laugh burst from the black-haired man, “My only question is how did glitter get everywhere?”

“I have pictures,” Hazel winked.

“Hazel, don’t you dare!”

“I mean I feel he has the right to know what you look like with pink pigtails, blazing yellow thigh-high socks, and about twenty tons of glitter plastered to your body.”

“Oh babe,” Percy gasped, “You cannot deny me this.”

“I hate all of you,” She grumbled, pulling the middle finger up.

“So Friday?” Jason laughed.

“Until then Grace!”

When he finally made it back to his office to do the last few things for the day, he felt for the first time in many a moon, hopeful. He let his mind wander on the quiet car ride home; thoughts were abstract and unimportant as they flitted in and out. Flashes of blueprints, the cool metal of an arrow, laughter, gold chandeliers, earthy skin wrapped in silk, the rush of water, shining green eyes…. green eyes?

Fuck.

“Everything okay Boss?”

“What? Yes, sorry, just remembering some admin I forgot to do.” He covered up quickly.

“Well we’re here.” Frank nodded to his apartment building.

“Thank you, see you tomorrow.”

He pulled up his text conversation with Zoe, already frantically trying to occupy his brain. If you can keep busy, you don’t have time to think.

Jason: hey, having a celebration night cause we finally sealed a contract for my big project. Friday? Can you make it?

She replied almost instantly: Be there! Send me deets.

And then he was throwing his phone on the couch, shoving his earphones in, and running until he couldn’t feel his heart beating. Running until his mind was white noise, till his legs gave out, until velvet words and ocean gazes were obsolete. That night his dreams consisted of nothing at all.

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

Sorry edit real quick: if you didn’t catch it in the fic: Stella means star and thyella means storm

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open): @lesbian-peanuts​​​

@leydiangelo​​​​

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#empires on the horizon #jason is a ceo #jason grace #zoe nightshade #reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna #percy jackson #harley #hazel levesque #jason #grace #jercy #it's a slow burn y'all #PJSSG fanfic #PJSSG series #baby fanfic #baby fanfic series #mini fanfic #mini fanfiction #PJO fanfic #part 7

[d3-iseefire]

Through A Glass Darkly Chapter Two

Bilba sat curled in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the corner of the common room, arm draped across a knee as her eyes scanned the file in her hand. A large stack of nearly identical folders, along with two smaller piles, sat on the table in front of her, all stuffed to the brim with paperwork.

Beyond that, the room opened into a wide airy space, lined with windows to allow in natural light. Tables and chairs were scattered throughout, many occupied with other patients reading, doing puzzles or quietly talking. Orderlies and staff moved about them, sometimes stopping to talk to a patient or escort them to and from the room. A few of them looked her way, but none attempted to approach. Dr. Chambers had made it clear she was to be left alone.

She returned her gaze to the chart she’d been reading, but had barely managed to read the same line four more times when someone slid into a chair across from her. Irritated, she looked up, prepared to send the clear, and concise, message that whoever was bothering her was deeply unwanted.

It was Blondie, and the sight of him caused her brain to short circuit.

He’d taken her advice. He was clean shaven, hair neat and trimmed, and wore a freshly laundered t-shirt along with the requisite sweats and slippers. On anyone else, they looked non-descript but, on him, they became a fashion statement.  

“So, Celeste,” he started. “I wanted –”

He trailed off as she raised her fingers and pressed them together along with a sharp, “shush! Masterpieces don’t talk, they exist to be admired.”

The corner of his lip twitched, and he shook his head in exasperation. Then he folded his hands in front of him and proceeded to stare at her, in silence.  

This time, it was Bilba fighting back a smile, even as she bemoaned the discovery that he had a sense of humor. She didn’t want him to have a sense of humor. It was bad enough that he was unfairly attractive.

“I changed my mind,” she stated flatly. “Don’t shower. You’re distracting.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re so busy in here you can’t afford to be distracted?”

“Exactly.” He reached for one of the folders, only to pause as she slapped a hand onto them. “Anyone ever teach you that nosiness is a vice?”

He didn’t pull his hand back. “Anyone ever teach you that sharing is a virtue?”

Confident, and very self-assured. If asked, Bilba would have insisted she didn’t have a so-called perfect man in mind, or list of traits she considered desirable in a partner. She had no time for such things. Now she was quickly realizing that not only did she apparently have a list, but Blondie was rapidly checking every box.  

“What are you doing?” he asked, nodding at the graveyard of dead trees.

“Reading,” Bilba said dryly. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not at present,” he said easily as if she’d just asked him about the weather. “What are you reading?”

Bilba sighed. She knew she should get rid of him. Insult him until he left, or give him the silent treatment, or just threaten to track down his car once she got out and set it on fire. Instead, against her better judgement, intelligence, and all sane reason, she found herself shutting the folder she was reading and offering it to him.

She wasn’t sure who was more surprised by her actions, her or him.

Granted, she was really bored. She’d always been more of a “shoot the thing in the face until it stops trying to kill you,” and less of a “risk death by a thousand paper cuts doing research” type of person.

Blondie flipped the folder open and frowned at the contents. “Patient records? Isn’t this a violation of privacy?”

“They’re all old, and dead.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I like history,” Bilba lied. The upper floor had been shut down for decades following a fire, and it was only recently that the hospital had started renovating it. Whatever the construction had awakened must have predated the fire, or been killed by it. It narrowed her search down a little but, given the place was one of the oldest operating asylums in the country, it was still looking for a needle in a haystack.

Blondie frowned. “Haven’t they ever heard of digitizing?”

Bilba wholeheartedly agreed. Her life would be so much easier if someone had thought to transfer the paper files to electronic media and added a search function. As it was, she was left to scour boxes of crumbling, records with next to nothing to go on. Later, she’d head out to see what she could find about the four teen victims but, until this, it was doing her best to not die from pure boredom.

Blondie pointed at the folders she’d separated out into smaller piles. “What are those?”

Bilba studied him for a few seconds and then leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Figure it out yourself.

That should keep him busy for a bit and give her time to continue her own research.

His eyes narrowed. “Are you treating me like an irritating child right now?”

Bilba shrugged. “Are you acting like one right now?”  

He grumbled something unflattering under his breath, before dragging some of the records she’d organized over to start flipping through. He finished surprisingly quickly and moved onto the other group. Once he was through them, he leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “You’ve separated them based on whether or not they died at the hospital. You also appear to have some interest in any record of violence, either done by them or to them.”

Bilba scowled. “You’re not allowed to be smart.”

He crossed his arms, which caused his biceps to bulge in a way that almost derailed her brain again. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Bilba crossed her own arms to mock—mimic him, and glared at him. “You’re not allowed to be pretty, and funny, and smart, get it? You can have one, maybe two, but not all three.”

This time, he pursed his lips and looked away for a second to poorly hide a smile. When he looked back, his face was sober, but his eyes still showed clear amusement. “You’re in luck.” He spread his arms out to encompass the common room. “If I had any intelligence at all I wouldn’t have ended up here, would I?”

There was a hint of bitterness in his voice that Bilba found relatable. The life of a hunter hadn’t exactly been what she’d wanted, but sometimes life chose for you and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You weren’t stupid,” she said, surprising herself. “You were resourceful. You’re lucky you weren’t murdered yourself.”

He leaned forward, eyes suddenly alight with some unknown emotion. “You see there?” he said. “That’s the second time you’ve acted like you know something about me, about my case.”

Bilba rolled her eyes. “You’re reaching.”

“I’m not.” His voice was intense, and it really shouldn’t be giving her butterflies in her stomach, but there it was.

Bilba bit back a sigh and reluctantly admitted the truth. She was wildly attracted to him and didn’t see it calming down anytime soon.

“You asked about what I saw in the sewers.”

“Curiosity,” Bilba said, her tone bored.

He shook his head. “No. You asked if I saw anything unusual, out of the ordinary, and when I described those puddles you didn’t seem surprised.”

“You’re basing this off my not being surprised by their being giant piles of disgusting in the sewers?” Bilba asked, incredulously. Blondie was like a bloodhound on a scent for heaven’s sake.

“And now, today,” he continued, ignoring her, “you say I’m lucky I didn’t die along with my father. Why?”

“Because it’s common sense,” Bilba said sharply, irritation setting in at his refusal to just let it go. “Someone knocked you out, tied you up and murdered your father. I doubt they were planning to pat you on the head and let you go afterward.”

“I don’t believe you,” he challenged.” What do you—"

He cut off as Bilba got to her feet and gathered up the folders. “I get it. You’re stuck here, and it sucks, but grasping at straws isn’t going to help. You’re making something out of nothing. You need to let it go.”

The light in his eyes dimmed, and Bilba wished the sight didn’t send a shard right through her. It went against everything she was and believed in. She existed to help people, not hurt them.

Problem was, she’d already hurt him. She’d given him hope, or some semblance of it, when there was none to be had. It was already over for him. She couldn’t save him because there was no longer anything to save him from.

“If you did know something, would you tell me?”

Bilba sighed in exasperation. She curled her fingers into the manilla folders she held until they crumpled under the pressure and then went and stood over him where he sat.  

“What good would it do?” she asked quietly, looking down at him. “I can’t help you. Nothing I know, or don’t know, can help you, do you understand? There’s no magic password, no key that’s going to open the gates and let you out. I can’t help you.”

“At least tell me I’m not crazy.”

The words were low, and edged in exhaustion, and despair.

Bilba hesitated, and then shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

He frowned. “For what?”

For not being here, Bilba thought. For not being able to save you, for a whole host of things that weren’t her fault but that she’d carry the guilt for anyway.

She shook her head again and left him sitting behind her.  

It was better this way, she told herself firmly.

Better to kill the hope now before it had a chance to grow any further.

He’d been lost long before she ever arrived, and there was nothing she or anyone else could do about it.

 ***

Fili skipped dinner.

He just…couldn’t do it somedays. Every day, it was the same. Same clothes, the same food, same useless therapy sessions where no one believed a word he had to say. The same white walls, the same people, and the knowledge that no matter what he did or said…it would never change.

Not unless he was suddenly declared competent to stand trial, and then he’d be sent to prison to start it all over again, just in a different place.

He wasn’t insane, but the endless repetitiveness might well drive him to it one day. There were days he couldn’t bear to stand at the window, looking out at the world he’d been locked away from, picturing his family and friends going about their lives while his was just…stopped.

Permanently.

He wandered the halls, trying not to think of what he’d lost. People had described him as dedicated, driven. Busy. There had been scholarships. College. A bright future with a career he’d been looking forward to.

A fiancée.

All of it gone in the blink of an eye.

It made him want to scream sometimes, in anger, in desperation.

In despair.

Fili rounded a corner and stopped with a frown as he realized he didn’t know where he was. In front of him, the hall was lined on both sides by doors into what he assumed were offices. He swore under his breath. Patients weren’t allowed in staff areas without permission. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to get here without being seen.

He started to backpedal, hoping to get back without being caught. He’d just rounded the corner when, behind him, a loud explosion rang out. Instinctively, Fili dropped to a crouch, heart racing in his chest.

He spun around and leaned forward onto his hands to peer around the corner.

At the far end of the hall, one of the office doors appeared to have exploded from within, showering the hall with bits of broken wood and debris.

He heard a low groan, and a dark shape he’d dismissed as part of the debris moved against the opposite wall. It resolved itself into a person, pushing up shakily onto their hands and knees.

Dark hair and a slim figure registered, and recognition hit.

Celeste.

She was wearing jeans, a dark t-shirt and a leather jacket. She pushed up to her knees, swaying in place, and Fili’s eyes went back to the door. Had it exploded as she’d passed it?

He got to his feet, and started to go to her, only to slow as a large figure stepped into the doorway of the office. Fili vaguely recognized him as one of the doctors at the hospital, an older, graying man with a formidable presence. Fili had never interacted with him personally but had heard from others that he had a reputation for being hardnosed and no nonsense. He wasn’t the most well-liked doctor, but he was apparently well respected.

As he watched, the man strode across the narrow hall, yanked Celeste up and completely off her feet as if she weighed nothing and began to strangle her.

“Hey!” Fili broke into a run toward the two.

The doctor’s face turned toward him, and Fili froze mid-stride without making the conscious choice to do so, as if some primal force had yanked him to a stop.

The doctor’s face was…wrong. An ashen, sickly gray with dark splotches as if mold had started to grow on his skin. His eyes were a dull white, no pupil or iris visible, and he had some sort of thick, black liquid dribbling from the corners of his mouth.

Without warning, he released Celeste. She dropped to her hands and knees, gasping for air.

The doctor made a strangely jerky turn and stumbled back into his office. Behind him, Celeste struggled to her feet, only to immediately buckle again and start to fall again.

Snapped out of his paralysis, Fili lunged forward the last few feet and barely managed to catch her before she slammed into the laminate tiles. This close he could see wood chips and dust coating her body and several small scrapes dotting her skin where it was exposed. He looked at the shattered door incredulously. Had she been thrown through it?

“Help me up,” she mumbled, words slurred. “I have to--”

She grabbed onto him, struggling to get back up. Her eyes were unfocused, and her legs kept buckling so much that Fili ended up dragging her arm around his neck and sliding his around her waist to support her.

He looked into the office, just in time to see the doctor open a window and, without so much as a second of hesitation, leap out.

Fili gaped, and a chill ran over him. He didn’t remember taking stairs in his wanderings, but he knew that offices were on the upper floors of the building. Fourth and fifth at least.

Celeste struggled to get out of his grasp, but he held her easily and lowered her to the floor as her legs gave out. “It’s too late,” he told her. “There’s no way he survived that.”

Celeste swore, her words slurred. Then her eyes suddenly rolled back in her head and she slumped in his arms, head lolling back against his shoulder.

Footsteps pounded along the hall and several staff members rounded the corner before skidding to a stop. Fili saw their eyes dart to him, Celeste and the broken door and a sinking feeling settled in.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he said weakly.

He could see they didn’t believe him, just like they hadn’t believed him the last time. Cold washed over him as he realized that he was most likely about to be falsely accused of murder.

Again.

Follow on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765585/chapters/54399856

#fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #writing #horror #scary #romance #happy ending #Hobbit AU #female bilbo baggins #fili #fembilbo/fili #fantasy #supernatural

[gravityfissure]

All Good Things End : Deirdre & Otto

Summary: Deirdre summons her mushroom husband for his final sacrifice. TW: Blood, Injury, Mushroom Manipulation PARTIES: @deathduty & Otto

"We're all gathered here today to witness a truly beautiful event: the death of Otto." Deirdre, host, waved her ceremonial toaster around. The rest of the fae in attendance, mostly pixies and leprechauns, lifted—or attempted to lift—their own toasters. She'd forgotten what the toasters were supposed to represent exactly, other than their triumph and humanity's inferiority, but most things usually represented that. She turned to her husband, and smirked at him. She recalled their dalliance in the cemetery, their wedding in the woods and the escapades that followed. She was almost sad to be rid of him now. He was, perhaps, the funnest human she'd ever ensnared. Out of fondness, or nostalgia, or something else entirely, she gestured to him and her gaze softened. "Do you have anything you'd like to say, Otto? You're allowed some words before you die." The pixies gasped in unison; it was customary to get the humans to be as silent as possible, during these things—their voices were largely annoying. Deirdre shook her head and quickly explained to them, "Otto is my guest, and my human. He represents me, too. I want him to speak." And so she allowed it.

How the hell had this become his life? It was a thought that crossed his mind rather often and one that crossed his mind right now as he made his way up to the spot that Deirdre had ordered him to come along to. She’d instructed him to clean up, wear a nice nose piercing (for he’d gotten a selection from the store with his punishment) explaining the black steel ring that pierced his right nostril and not tell anyone about what he was doing. Things had not been good of late. Whatever the hell had happened at the bar, the fact he’d been forced to live as nothing more than a mundane human. Wash the dishes. Brush his hair. Empty the trash. No snap of his fingers and things took care of themselves. Worry had kept him up for several nights, waiting for any hint of it to come back. It had to come back didn’t it? Hells there was no way this could be his life. No way he could live without the essence of his very being. The toll was clear, even with the effort he’d taken to make himself look presentable.

Admittedly a loophole he’d found in that instruction was that he hadn’t been told not to tell anyone where he was going, explaining the google-maps pin he’d dropped Mercy, Jane and Cece for good measure. If someone did need to do corpse collection… Well, at least they had a start on where to find him he supposed. The phone had been tucked away and forgotten as the new ceremony began. Different this time and Otto truly wasn’t sure what to expect he couldn’t see any knives that Deirdre had claimed to be fond of in the past so maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The myriad of thoughts running through his mind was distracting, and when he was finally invited to speak and say someone Otto was at a loss for words; a rare occurrence on any normal day. “I guess-- Actually yeah, are there drinks? I’m way too sober for this shit,” maybe he could stall for a bit, though a drink also didn’t sound like a bad idea either right now. “Honestly, I’d kill for a cocktail before I kick the bucket… It’s a personal nightmare to go out stone cold sober ‘cause that’s absolutely not what my life’s about.”

“Drinks?” Deirdre glanced around, regarding the fae in attendance. “Did we bring drinks?” The fae murmured to each other, pixies fluttered about until a leprechaun hobbled forward, offering solem clicks and whistles of disappointment. She turned to Otto. “No drinks.” Which was suddenly very unfortunate, because she was craving some too. “But I like your spirit, Otto! Is that all the last words you have to offer? Usually the humans start begging now. They tell me all about how much money they can offer, about any children or lovers. They get very desperate, I love to see it on their faces.” She turned to Otto, smiling. He seemed...okay, strangely enough. Not that Deirdre was any expert on reading human’s facial expressions, they all looked mostly the same, and were too ugly to pay attention to. But this man, fun and carefree, gave her no sobbing or begging. Suddenly, she boiled with anger. “BEG FOR YOUR LIFE!” She threw her toaster down at his feet, snarling. “GIVE US ENTERTAINMENT! You think this is a game, human? I gathered my friends here to watch something good, and your smart quips are getting us—“ a Leprechaun whistles at her. Deirdre snapped around. He swished a half-empty bottle of wine. “Never mind, I’m being informed we do have some drinks.” She took the bottle and offered it to Otto. “Here, now you can die slightly tipsy.”

“Oh come on,” he protested at the shakes of multiple little heads in every direction “I thought this was meant to be a celebration of your totalitarian toaster termination techniques on full unadulterated display… That you guys knew how to party.” The clarification that normally this was the point people started begging for their lives was met with a twist of his mouth and mildly distasteful look. “Well, I mean I can’t really do that because I don’t have any of those things. Kids suck they’re so whiny and really who has the commitment for a partner when people just end up letting you down in the end, you know?” he glanced at a wizened old leprechaun who seemed to mull on this statement and nod in agreement before taking a puff on his pipe “see? This dude, he gets it.” It’s so much effort for so little reward.” Perhaps now was not the time for philosophical questioning but it was what came to mind. - if it’s a time for confession guess there’s no better time to say thanks for the motorcycle I conned you into buying for me. Really was swell of you.” But any further smartass remarks were put on hold as he dodged the toaster lobbed in his general direction and found his knees giving out as he threw himself on the floor against his will. “No- NO PLEASE!” tears welled unbidden to his eyes as he clasped at Deirdre’s boots the sobs rising against his will “I’LL DO ANYTHING, I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT! PLEASE JUST-- DON’T KILL ME! IT’S NOT A GAME! I SWEAR. PLEASE I-” he hiccuped, swallowing air “ Pleasepleaseplease.” The sobbing at her feet continued despite the profference of booze for the command to stop had not yet been given.

Deirdre frowned as Otto spoke, she reached a hand out to lay gingerly on his shoulder. “Otto...are you sad and lonely?” The fae looked at her pointedly. She flushed and withdrew both her concern and her hand, but thought to elaborate. “Having a partner is great. I love my girlfriend. I don’t believe people let you down always, sometimes they surprise you.” The leprechaun clicked his disagreement, and Deirdre waved the conversation away. “You conned me into buying you a motorcycle?” She thought about it, and expected anger or pride to come to her. Anger for the audacity of a human to think to trick her, and pride that her subordinate had tried at all. Mostly she was just...disappointed. “Why didn’t you con me out of more than just a motorcycle?” She asked, “I mean, I have the money to give you more. What’s a motorcycle worth? Like a measly few thousand dollars?” It was good then, that he started to beg, and her mood lifted. “Yes, you pathetic urchin.” She hissed and snapped her feet away from him. “I think we’re good to begin now, don’t you?” She smiled and turned to her fellow fae, careful to keep herself out of the ring again. “Stop your begging and be quiet, Otto. Now it’s time--” The pixies struggled to play their flute, leaving the air with a discordant whittling that stung Deirdre’s ears. A leprechaun banged his toaster to create a drum beat, as horrible as it was earnest. Deirdre hissed again and picked Otto off the floor and shoved him into the circle. “Go impale yourself on the tree branch there.” She pointed at the one that had been sharpened for this purpose. “Take your time though, I do like a slow death. And you may do whatever you like before you’re impaled, so long as you stay in the circle, and it doesn’t take too long.” She waved her hand in the air. “Or if I find it boring.”

Otto’s eyes widened for a moment before he laughed, well and truly laughed deeply at the notion. “Oh hells, me? Lonely? No. Lonely’s pathetic, I’m definitely not pathetic.” But then again, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder. Would anyone ever notice? Would Mercy, Cece or anyone else in his rather truncated list of acquaintances even bother to come out and look for him? “Sure did, was fun watching you bend over backwards to save your friend’s face. Can’t say it worked but it was fun to watch either way.”

But then the wet mud was soaking into his knees, immaculate nails clawing for purchase on Deirdre’s shoe that soon retracted leaving him falling facefirst into a pile of moss. As the urge to beg rescinded, he lay there for a moment gathering what little remained of his dignity and pushed himself up to his feet. Spotting the leprechaun nearby about to drain the wine he snatched the bottle out of its tiny hands and gulped it down, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. Deirdre was speaking again though and the horrible irony of everything he’d been told dawned on him.

You’re not dead.

It was this thought that drifted through his mind as Otto walked with purposeful steps towards the sharpened bark. A haze of strange determination silencing all questions or thoughts that this was wrong. That he needed to run. No matter how much his mind screamed, rending itself apart.

The sharpened tip pierced the soft flesh of his abdomen, a slow progression as steps faltered and blood began to trickle in a cascade, staining the front of his shirt. A second and third followed, and as the crimson rivulets flowed their course twin tears glistened in hazel eyes. The dawning revelation of a truth Otto had always denied.

Perhaps he was lonely indeed.

Too late to do anything about it now though.

Delight spread across the fae like wildfire, infectious and brighter the longer it burned. Deirdre watched curiously. She waited for the same delight to reach her. And she waited. And she watched, and she waited. And yet, the only feeling that entered her as she watched Otto impale himself was something cold, and then sharp; something she wouldn’t dare put a name to. Emma’s eyes flashed in her mind, the look of desperation that gleamed there, and the hope that sat on her lips that Deirdre might free her. She couldn’t see Otto’s face now, and she felt all the better for it. “Stop,” she told him, “stop that. S-stop doing that.” Her command was barely a whisper above the din of celebration, fae poured into the circle, ready to party--dancing progressed around Otto’s limp body, and the music grew louder and further away from any pleasurable tune. The mushroom drums in her own head grew silent, and she left to watch the fae as an outsider to their delight. Once, she had been a child peeking from behind old trees, watching the fae with their wings and wondering when it would be her turn to be like them. The feeling she had chased for so long fluttered around her, it was cheered on by the congratulatory clicks and whistles of the leprechauns, but it could not find her heart. An organ she had long since suspected she’d lost sometime ago, some many deaths before.

She turned her back to Otto, to the mushrooms and fae surrounding him, and she walked. “I want to be good,” she told the trees as she stumbled around them. “I want to be good.” She willed the feeling to reach her. She willed herself to feel anything at all. But where she fell to the ground, staring at her unstained hands, she found nothing.

Nothing inside of her.

Eventually Otto reached a point that his feet could no longer find purchase enough to continue walking. Or perhaps it was simply the gradual weakening that came with the blood-loss. Blood-loss that left him feeling cold and tired. Tired in a way that was bone deep. There was no method to question on his lips to implore them to stop and let him go so that he might live his life. The feelings that swirled in his chest were those of anguish and an aching loneliness for which words were inadequate to describe. Loneliness he'd laughed so heartily at not five minutes prior. So maybe Deirdre was right. Perhaps he was… But too little too late.

I thought this was meant to hurt less. It always sounded like it would hurt less .

Where the voice in his mind came from he couldn’t rightly say. No warm embrace, no bright light or whatever the hell you were meant to get if this truly was the end. Just empty darkness. Even as he reached for his magic, gone since that night at the bar. Just an echo, but that’s all he was now wasn’t he? An echo of what he should’ve been. The breath rattled in his throat, life slipping away in the trickle of his lifesblood as the cold grasp of darkness coiled tighter around him; his life served forth by fate's own servant to the overture of cheerful clicks and whistles.

Perhaps someone will remember me.

#p: deirdre #all good things end #para

[justatiredghost]

Living for the Moment Ch9 A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other?

-

Kaus shifted, making himself comfortable in the old shopping cart. He felt lucky for finding one abandoned out here in this back alley. He wanted to close his eyes and rest a bit, but there were memories and nightmares waiting for him that he didn’t want to relive, so instead he popped another pill and lit a joint for good measure, watching the smoke curl up into the dark sky. He was just so tired. Why did everything have to be so difficult? 

“What’s been up with you lately?” Ben asked, looking down at him from a fire escape he was sitting on.

“Shhh, Ben, it’s quiet time,” Klaus said, closing his eyes. 

“It’s just,” Ben continued anyway. “You haven’t been going to any of the sketchier bars or clubs like you usually do.” 

“Just haven’t been in the mood,” Klaus said airily. “Why, are you complaining?”

“Of course not, it means you’ve been bored enough to take all my suggestions for things to do.  You even went to that movie I've been wanting to see.”

“What can I say? I was craving popcorn and it’s so easy to steal there,” Klaus said, hoping he’d give up soon. 

“If you’re trying to get sober—”

“Yeah,” Klaus laughed out loud, interrupting him. “No way that’s gonna happen. 

“I’m serious, Klaus,” Ben persisted, a little overeager. “This is really good!”

“Oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Klaus groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Just because I haven’t been in the mood to get absolutely wrecked, doesn’t mean I’m gonna ‘change my ways,’ or whatever. Quite the opposite. In fact, I might be feeling a bender coming on now.”

Ben’s expression didn’t look convinced and that alone made Klaus want to go out and take every drug he could get his hands on because, really, Ben should know better by now than to hold out on that kind of hope. Why was he still on his case about this when he saw firsthand what being sober did to him? 

“Does this have anything to do with that Dave guy you got beat up a few days ago?” Ben suddenly asked. 

“No,” Klaus said pointedly, probably too quickly. That was one of the things he was trying so hard not to think about. He still didn’t understand why Dave bothered after he’d seen how he lived his life. But it made it harder to want to indulge in his regular recklessness, especially since there hadn’t been any expectation for him to get clean like there was with anyone else he’d ever had that sort of conversation with. Maybe that could still happen, but Dave did drugs too, so Klaus really had no idea what to think. He just didn’t understand Dave. 

“Whatever,” Ben said. “If it’s brooding hours, I’m gonna go. At least you’ve been more fun lately.”

“You take that back, I’m always fun,” Klaus joked, cracking one eye open to grin at Ben, who shook his head, but was smiling too as he disappeared. 

Klaus leaned back in the grocery cart, breathing a heavy sigh as he closed his eyes again, settling in. He wasn’t sure how much time had gone by when he heard a group passing down the street. He must have been higher than he realized, though, because he thought he heard Dave’s voice among them. 

“You guys go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” 

He hadn’t realized he’d had the guy on his mind so much. He took a long drag of the joint as he heard footsteps approaching, trying to just enjoy the high before he was interrupted, feeling the cool night air on his face. He wondered what it was going to be this time. A cop? A mugging or a hate crime? Did he get a prize if he guessed right?

“Well, you look comfy.”

Klaus opened his eyes and had to do a double take when he saw that it really was Dave standing there, big smile on his face. Thankfully the split lip and black eye were beginning to heal. 

“Sorry about that, didn’t mean to startle you,” Dave chuckled, leaning on the edge of the cart. 

“Hey,” Klaus said, offering him his joint. “What are you up to?”

“Just seeing what parties are out and about,” Dave said, taking a drag before passing it back. 

“Anything good?”

“Nah, not really. What about you?”

“Making my own party,” Klaus said, gesturing to the cart as if it were obvious. 

“Sweet, any chance I can get past the bouncer?” Dave asked and Klaus couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, I might be able to swing that,” Klaus said. “But you gotta push me.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Dave said, moving to stand on the bar on the back, using one foot to push it along.

“Oh, hell yeah, it’s definitely a party, now,” Klaus said, sitting up to get a better grip, legs still hanging over the front. 

Dave brought them to a sudden stop when they passed a skate park, the two of them turning to each other. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Dave asked. 

“You better be ‘cause I need to do this immediately!” Klaus exclaimed. 

“Uh, you’re not talking about needing to pee, are you?”

“No!”

“Okay, good!” Dave broke into a run, speeding towards the nearest ramp. 

It didn’t take long at all for Dave to lose his footing and nearly faceplant on the pavement, leaving Klaus to careen along, cheering at the top of his lungs, wind in his hair, until it reached the peak of the ramp and tipped to the side, spilling Klaus onto the ground. Thankfully, besides some scraped up elbows and knees, he wasn’t hurt. Dave sprinted over and dropped to his knees at his side, but as soon as he realized that he was more or less unhurt, he collapsed to the ground beside him, the two of them giggling. 

“Next time, we should do that sober, we might last longer” Dave said. “And you should push me.”

“Sounds like taking some of the fun out of it,” Klaus said. “But fine. Then we can take turns nearly killing each other.” As if Klaus ever did anything sober.

“Sounds like the perfect evening to me,” Dave said with a heavy sigh as he caught his breath. After a moment, he rummaged around in his coat and pulled out a joint and lit it. He took a drag before bumping Klaus’ arm, offering it up. “So, how’ve you been?” 

“Fantastic,” Klaus said, accepting the joint eagerly.

“That bad, huh?”

“Nah, it’s been great, really.” Klaus said, waving a hand dismissively before passing the joint back. “What about you? Your face looks better. Sorry you're not gonna get a badass scar though.”

“Aw, maybe next time,” Dave laughed. 

“Really?” Klaus asked skeptically. “Do you actually want a scar? Because I can definitely help with that.”

“What? You can respond with deflective humor and I can’t?” Dave asked innocently.

“And here I was trying to be all sincere and apologize,” Klaus said, snatching the joint back, turning his eyes back to the sky above them because it was easier than looking at Dave. “I don’t even know why I went looking for you that night.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but he supposed curiosity got the better of him. 

“I’m glad you did. I already told you, you don’t have to apologize,” Dave said. “I’d rather get into a little fight if it means I can help out a friend.”

“Ugh, were you always this sappy?” Klaus groaned, because he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that. He wasn’t supposed to have friends. Acquaintances, sure, people he could party with, but they weren’t meant to stick around. Klaus wasn’t meant to stick around. So why was he still here?

“Yes,” Dave said with a giant shit eating grin that showed no shame whatsoever. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s been bothering you? I guess we can dance around it instead, but I have to warn you, I can be very annoying.” 

“Can be?” Klaus asked, shooting him a look.

“Okay, I am very annoying,” Dave chuckled, but then, like the considerate bastard he was, he hurried to add, “Unless you genuinely don’t want to talk about it. Boundaries, and all that.”

He glanced at Dave again, at his too-blue eyes that were always so sincere and soft, and he had to look away again, turning his gaze up to the harsh streetlights and the millions of stars staring through him. He sighed. Why the fuck not? Why not just jump in and share all the crazy bullshit that was his life? It wasn’t like any of this really mattered. 

And besides, Dave was bound to find out sooner or later. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t heard the gossip yet. Or he had but wanted to see him squirm instead. No, that wasn’t like Dave. Klaus just wanted everything to go back to normal so he could stop feeling so much all the time. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

“My sister wrote a book about the fam,” Klaus said, taking another long drag of the joint before passing it back, watching the smoke swirl above him as he exhaled into the night. “I’m impressed, really. Didn’t know she had it in her. And dear old Daddy was a bastard, someone needed to knock him down a peg or two.”

“Do you and your sister get along?” Dave asked.

Klaus couldn’t help but laugh which he supposed was answer enough. 

“Then I’m guessing her portrayal of you wasn’t exactly positive,” Dave said, voice sympathetic and Klaus hated how serious all of this had gotten. 

“Bingo, right on the money. But, I mean, look at me. It’s not like there’s much good to say, either. I’m just mad she told the world I was the one who dyed my brother’s mask pink. That was supposed to be our little secret.”

“That’s not true, you— wait, what do you mean ‘mask?’” Dave asked, distracted as Klaus hoped he would be. 

“Well, yeah. Any good child superhero has to wear a mask.” 

“Child superhero?” Dave exclaimed, choking on smoke as he sat up to stare at him. 

“What, did you seriously not put it together?” Klaus asked, finally turning to grin at him, crossing his arms behind his head, getting comfortable. 

“Put what together? I am so incredibly lost. What are you talking about?”

“Really?” Klaus said, holding up his hands for him to see. “Klaus Hargreeves? Ouija board inspired tattoos on my hands, umbrella tattoo on my wrist; you really have no clue who I am?” 

He’d honestly thought Dave would have at least suspected by now, but it had been too nice pretending someone didn’t know his past, that he could want to get to know him for him and not the fame. Maybe Dave truly didn’t know, though, as surprising as that would be. He regretted losing that, but honestly it was worth it to see Dave’s baffled expression as he tried to piece it all together. 

“I don’t—“ Dave began, but then the realization seemed to hit him. “Wait, you’re-- what was it?-- the Seance!” 

“Now he gets it,” Klaus chuckled, snagging the joint from Dave’s unresisting hand. “I seriously can’t believe you didn’t put it together sooner.”

“I’m sorry, I just haven’t thought about the Umbrella Academy in years,” Dave said, looking as if his world had just changed completely. Klaus didn’t like it. “It didn’t really occur to me how fucked up it must have been until I was older.”

“Nah, it was all sunshine and roses,” Klaus said. “Just read Vanya’s book for proof.”

“Or you could fill me in,” Dave said, and Klaus had to turn to look at him, surprised. “I don’t really like hearing things second-hand, especially from someone you weren’t even that close to.”

“I am not one to share my secrets,” Klaus said. “And I said she got it pretty much right.” 

He wasn’t really sure why he was trying to talk Dave into reading it. Maybe it would just make things easier. Especially because there were some things he didn’t want to share with him directly. It would be easier if Dave just stopped hanging around him so he didn’t have to see the exact moment he stopped being able to look him in the eye.

“I think I’m good,” Dave said. “We all got fucked up one way or another as kids. Some worse than others. We’re all just trying to get through life as best we can. You should be able to keep those secrets.”

“Your loss,” Klaus shrugged, not really sure why his throat was suddenly tight, even though the idea that he should have any privacy made him want to laugh. “It might explain some things.”

It shouldn’t matter what Dave did. He could be lying now and was going to look up the book the moment they went their separate ways. And even if he didn’t, if he was telling the truth, it shouldn’t mean anything to Klaus. He was already used to strangers who knew too much about him, people who only thought of him as Number Four and just wanted the bragging rights of being able to claim they knew him. He wondered how things were going to change now between the two of them. 

“I’m not sure anything could explain you,” Dave laughed, and it was strange, it was almost like he was joking to deflect for Klaus. 

“I’m going to pretend that was a compliment,” Klaus sniffed indignantly, barely managing to hide his grin, all too willing and relieved for the change in subject. 

“I meant it as one, I swear,” Dave said. “I never know what to expect with you, but I’m having a great time trying to figure you out.”

“What’s to figure out?” Klaus asked, striking a pose. “I’m just a fabulous dumpster fire.”

“Pretend all you like, that doesn’t change how great you are.”

Klaus couldn’t help but stare at him, taken aback. He wasn’t really used to genuine compliments. Sure, he’d had people find him attractive and he knew the things he was good at and how to use them to impress or gain the upper hand, but he wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to anything even close to this without some sort of ulterior motive. 

He had to put up with all sorts of unsavory types in order to get by, living on the streets. Then again, he’d done his own fair share of lying and stealing, so maybe he deserves to be among them. There wasn’t much he was proud of himself for, but then pride was the first thing to go if you wanted to last out here. Maybe Dave had just forgotten, he had been gone for a month, after all. That didn’t stop Klaus from wanting to be selfish, so he didn’t remind him. 

“Well, that’s enough of that,” Klaus said, jumping to his feet, because as much as he liked being the center of attention, he wasn't sure how he felt about all this. Besides, being fun was what he was good at, so he might as well play to his strengths. Keep Dave from realizing the truth just a little bit longer. “Come on, then. The night is young and we’ve got havoc to cause.” 

He threw his arm across Dave’s shoulders as he stood to join him, tightening his grip briefly as if threatening to put him in a headlock. Dave did the same and suddenly they were in a playful scuffle as they headed off into the night. 

#klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klave #klaus x dave #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #fanfic #living for the moment #klaus: i don't open up to anyone #dave: pleeeaaase? #klaus: fuck #my fic

[ubernoxa]

The Groupie: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 4: A Closed Door

Masterlist

Story Summary: Even when I was younger, I knew I wanted to be in music. I had a hunger for it that could never be satisfied. I wanted to be where the music played. I was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. At first it was a rush of pure adrenalin that would fill me as I tuned their guitars and partied with them after the gigs (sometimes even more), but just like all adrenalin rushes you eventually have to come down.

Chapter Summary: Celi realizes that she was a fool.

Celi wandered around backstage looking for something to do. She continued to rub her neck hoping to ease the sharp pain that had settle there last night. She was originally spending time with the other girls backstage , but quickly grew bored of the questions about Izzy. So here she was wondering backstage looking for something to distract herself, looking to help setup for the show. She missed helping setup and tune the instruments. She felt disconnected, like something was missing. Celi couldn’t help but laugh at herself looking for work, if she told herself last month that she would go out of her way to find work she would have laughed in her own face. Back when she was with the Hempers she wished, no prayed, that she wouldn’t have to work. She prayed for a day where she could sit around and do nothing. Funny how quickly things had changed.

The hotel rooms still felt foreign to her. Each hotel room would always make her jaw drop. Granted these hotels were barely a step above the Motel 6s, but compared to the tents and busses she was used to they were immaculate. Some were nicer than other, but the beds always felt like clouds. The first couple of days Izzy would teach her to play guitar, but it was clear to her that he must have forgotten his promise or just wasn’t in the mood for it. He had been playing in a show every other night, and it was definitely taking a toll on the guitarist. He wouldn’t admit it, but Celi knew. She wasn’t sure how she could help, but instead of playing she would try to talk with him after they had sex. She quickly picked up that he was always the sweetest and protective after sex. Their conversations would range from music to the beauty of the setting sun. He would always comment how the rising and setting sun was the second most beautiful thing he had ever seen, her being the first. The first time he told her that he wasn’t sober, so she brushed it off. Once he said it the following morning, and every morning after that, she believed him. One of the many things she loved about Izzy is that he was poetic. His poetic ness clearly showed itself in the songs he wrote, but he would only truly show that side of him to her when they were alone.

“Why don’t you go off with the other groupies, and wait with them for the guys to finish sound check,” one of the stage hands responded not wanting to take part in whatever game Celi was playing. In his mind all of the groupies were the same. He believed that all of them wanted to fuck one of the band members hoping that they get married and she doesn’t have to work for the rest of their life. Freeloaders, a bunch of damn freeloaders. He took a quick second and looked the girl up and down. She was young, and with her bright red hair he knew exactly who she was. He had heard stories about the redhead that had caught Izzy’s attention..at least for now.., and didn’t want to be apart of one of the stories. The worst part about stories was that most of them weren’t true.

“Wow..okay...I’m not here to ‘worship’ some guy. I’m here to be with the music, and the music is here backstage, setting up this shit. I used to do it all the time before with the Hempers, so just give me something to do. I’ll sweep the stage or clean lenses,” Celi shot back. Much to her dismay there was a slight adjustment between being a groupie for the Hempers vs being a groupie for Guns, the female groupies were there to keep the guys entertained.

“Now you listen here bitch,” before the guy who stood in front of Celi could continue his growling, a guy no older than Celi interrupted their discussion.

“Hey Mark, I’m running behind schedule, can you help me with tuning Steven’s drums?” The brunette turned to Celi and asked, “Celi right? You used to tune guitars for the Hempers?”

“Yeah, I’ve also tuned drums. Need help?” Celi quickly asked as he nodded his head and motioned for her to follow him to the stage area.

“I thought the guys were already doing sound check? What’s the problem with the drums?” Celi asked practically running after the guy. Her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute as she followed him backstage.

“No, they’re in some sort of group meeting, and no they aren’t broken. Sounded like you wanted a job, so I thought I’d give you one,” Celi couldn’t help smile at him.

“Thanks, it’s weird...not working with the instrument. I feel so detached from the music,” Celi admitted as she grabbed the required tools for tuning from a bag backstage. She felt his watchful eyes on her, obviously this was her first test.

Without hesitation she grabbed the items, and headed onstage. She knew if she showed any doubt, if she flinched, or showed even the slightest hesitation then she wouldn’t be asked to help again.

“Really? I’d think having Izzy’s dick inside of you every night would mean that you are incredibly close to the music,” Celi froze as the guy spoke. What the fuck was his problem?

She took a deep breath, and thought to herself what Morgi would do if she was in her position. Morgi would defuse the situation, and ignore the dick ass comment. She could cuss the guy out later, but right now she needed him to have a job. She reminder herself of one of the most important rules Morgi had taught her, cause no trouble.

“Fuck off, you know what I meant,” She offered him a peaceful smile and giggling pretending that she wasn’t overly pissed off at him. Celi wanted to stand up to him, and actually tell him to fuck off. Today wasn’t the day, but sooner rather than later that day would come.

Celi sat down and began working on getting all of the tension rods finger tight on the first drum. She could feel him watching her every move as she worked, and that ticked her off even more. She shook off the eerie feeling, and lightly tapped the shell of the drum ignoring his stare. Taking the trusty drum key in hand, she began tuning the bottom head, praying that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself. His eyes were on her like a hawk on its pray as she began tapping and tensioning in a diagonal pattern. Once it was to her liking She began working on the top.

Time quickly flew by as she moved from drum to drum. At least he was attempting to be nice, unlike the Mark character she had met earlier. He eventually left to go get Steven, and she couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to be with the music again.

“Hey Celi! I didn’t know you could tune drums?” She smiled at Steven as he practically bounced over towards his kit that she had just tuned.

“Yeah, let me know what adjustments you would like me to make. Kiyv from Hempers was always really particular to how he had his, so let me know!” Celi couldn’t help but let her smile grow as she spoke even though her heart was practically going to explode out of her chest.

“Pretty good, I just like it a little more....bend in the tone if ya know what I mean,” Celi nodded as he spoke trying to take in every word. He grabbed the key and torqued down some of the rods.

“You can go Sam, Celi and I can finish this up,” Steven said before turning to Sam. Ahh so his name was Sam.

“Wanna tune Slash’s extra guitars once you’re done with that? Our regular guy who does it is off talking with our supplier.” Celi nodded back at this so called Sam as he headed out. Her heart was practically performing backflips from the excitement of being able to play a guitar again.

“Wait Celi!”

Celi quickly snapped her head back towards Sam who was running back in her and Steven’s direction. “We are having a meeting at 9 pm in room 7B about post show stage cleanup. If you want to keep helping we can always use the extra hands, but if you were just here to help to make the time fly by don't bother stopping by,” Celi nodded back at this so called Sam as he headed out. Celi reamined frozen as she watched Sam leave. There was no way in hell she was going to be missing that meeting.

Steven then spent the next 10 minutes explaining exactly how he liked it tuned. After he finished Celi couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Steven rested his elbows on he knees as he looked Celi up and Down. He sent a flirtatious smile her way as he remained hidden behind his sunglasses. It was hard for him to look away, even if she was one of Izzy’s girls.

“I worked with Kiyv and his drum set for a couple months. No matter how much I tried to dial it in, they were never perfect. At first I was offended, but later on I realized that it’s all personal preference. I am not you so how will I know what you feel like playing that day, but that won’t keep me from trying to,” before she could continue she felt an arm wrap around her waist and slowly tug her away from Steven. She didn’t have to guess who it was.

“I was looking for you after the meeting, you weren’t in the dressing room. What are you doing out here,” there was a playful tone as he whispered into Celi’s ear.

“I was looking for something to do,” Celi whispered back.

“Now what has my Celi been doing all day? A girl like her can have all the booze and drugs her heart desires, and yet she found herself working onstage,” Celi’s heart fluttered as as he spoke. She thank god or the spirits or whoever was in charge of the world that he wasn’t mad at her.

“Working! It’s called working. Someone had to get the drums ready for your performance tonight,” Celi teased back earning a chuckle from Izzy. She could feel them, all the eyes that were currently on her and Izzy.

“Come on now baby, I don’t want you to be tired for tonight,” His comment caught Celi off guard, but she knew she had to quickly recover. She could recover. Her words were failing and all she could do was blush.

“Get off my stage,” Axl shot at Celi breaking her ‘moment’ with Izzy. Celi never lost her smile as she quickly surveyed the band.

“Fuck off fire crotch,” Celi shot back before strolling away to go tune Slash’s extra guitars that she he wouldn’t use for the concert tonight.

The whole time she tuned, she tried to shake what had just transpired. She played a short melody trying to dive deeper and deeper into every note. She wanted to escape from the small section of her brain that was freaking out. The part of her brain the was quick to point out the fact that she had broken every one of Morgi’s rules.

—————————-

Out of place was a good word for how Celi felt in room 7B waiting for the meeting the after show meeting to start. Celi fidgeted with the hem of her shirt trying to ignore the stares she was receiving.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” Celi turned to see Sam sit next to her. He smiled as he took in her appearance. By the way she tied her hair up, and now wore sneakers, it was clear that she was here to work.

Celi sat and listened to the meeting where they discussed the required post show photographs and interview that were lined up for the guys. The interview that Izzy had been bitching about all week. She felt eyes on her as she sat next to Sam, but she was expecting them.

“Alright Sam, standard plan for packing the drum kit. I see you brought some help, but if you need any more let me or Mark know,”

The next few hours were filled with packing and moving equipment off stage. She cussed under her breath as she forgot how tiring packing up was. The time passed within seconds, and before she knew it Sam handed her a beer in celebration of a job completed

“I thought you would bail half way through packing up,” when Arnie first saw Celi he thought that she would be a pain for two hours and then she would disappear. Arnie has been with Guns N’ Roses for the past 8 months working their lighting, and not once had he heard of a groupie wanting to help.

“Well I used to do it all the time, so really it's no big deal. Thanks for the beer, but I should probably get to showering, Long day,” Celi quickly finished her beer and headed towards the showers.

She headed towards Izzy’s dressing room, hoping to catch him before he went to the afterparty. After getting lost twice, she smiled when she saw the plain door with a piece of paper with Izzy’s name of it. She quickly jiggled the door only to find that it was locked. ‘What the fuck’?

“What time is it?” Celi asked a by-passer who quickly checked his watch.

“11 pm,” the man replied before continuing on his way. Confusion filled Celi as she tried to figure out why the door was locked. He must have been in their if the door was locked, maybe he didn’t want to be disturbed by the others? Usually all of the dressing rooms, except Slash’s would be cleaned out by the end of the show. Everyone would then congregate into Slash’s dressing room and drink their asses off. If it was locked that meant he was in there because the cleaned ones were left unlocked. Celi took a deep breath, but right before she was going knock a moan filled the empty air. Her hands dropped to her sides as she stared the bare door.

Her mind went blank and her feet took over as she wandered towards where the public showers were. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail to use as a mask as it covered her face. She cussed herself as she could feel the tears build in her eyes. She couldn’t tell if she was more mad at Izzy or himself.

‘She was a groupie, and the sex meant nothing,’ She told herself over and over again. Her heart still burned as the thought of Izzy having sex with someone else filled her brain. The moan continued to play in her head over and over again causing more tears to cascade down her face.

She purposely avoided any eye contact with anyone she encountered in the hallways. She was a fool. A stupid little girl who fell for a rockstar.

Rule Number 1: The sex means nothing.

The sex meant nothing.

The guitar lessons meant nothing.

The late night talks meant nothing.

Everything meant nothing.

#the groupie #groupie #gnr imagine #gnr fanfiction #gnr fanfic #guns n’ roses fanfic #guns n’ roses imagine #guns n’ roses fanfiction #guns and roses imagine #guns and roses fanfiction #guns and roses fanfic #izzy stradlin fanfic #izzy stradlin imagine #izzy stradlin fanfiction

[eastasianfeelings]

falling into the sky — chapter one: crush

Summary: Your dance crew is backing up 5Vixx's comeback. You happen to have a big crush on Ken. It's kind of not an ideal situation for you, but your dance crew and the rest of Vixx make up for it.

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: slight angst

Author’s note: This is a series that is 100% self-insert. It’s all the fluff and good happenings that I hope and wish will happen, in some way or another, in my life. I solemnly swear to start and end each chapter with fluff or comfort (...not including this first chapter) and resolve any angst within its own chapter.

*

Look, so you have the biggest crush on Ken. You try not to hold it against him; idols are hired to be crushed on, and he’s just doing his job.

But it’s really annoying when you’re trying to do your own job as a back-up dancer and he’s flouncing around the practice room, doing ridiculous aegyo and hollering at the other Vixx members and in general just being his adorable damn self. You don’t want to be distracted. You don’t want to feel flutters in your gut. You don’t want to want what you can’t have. You just want to dance, get high on endorphins, and get paid.

Unfortunately, Ken doesn’t seem to get the message.

“Hey! Guys!” He skips over to the corner where your dance crew is waiting for Vixx to finish working on their solo parts. “You’re all coming to dinner afterward, right? We’re treating!”

“You mean Taekwoon’s treating?” Changyeon says wryly. He’s the oldest in the group at 40 years, and he’s known Vixx the longest.

Ken just beams and slings an arm over his shoulder. “Either way, you’re coming, yeah?”

Changyeon turns to the rest of you. “Everyone free tonight?”

The other four in your crew agree, so you keep your mouth shut, mask your lack of enthusiasm and just nod along.

Suddenly, there’s an arm being thrown around your shoulder as well. “Y/N, you’re in too?”

You look up and find Ken smiling beatifically at you from close range, his weight pulling you closer to him. Your thoughts go blank. Since when did he know your name?

“Yeah, you didn’t come to the last two,” says Hyeomi.

“Come on, live a little, eonni!” Ahwon adds.

And you can’t resist your crew, can’t turn them down just because you have a stupid crush you need to get over. “Okay, but—”  You casually shrug off Ken’s arm and sidle away. “—I’m not being anyone’s designated driver, got it?”

“Of course not,” Soonil jokes, “that’s Changyeon-hyung’s job.”

“You still owe me ten thousand won for the taxi last time,” Changyeon informs him. “You too, Daesuk.”

“Wait, my place is two times closer than Soonil’s, how come we have to split half-half?!”

Before Soonil and Daesuk can get too into it, Ken lifts his hands as if to ask for silence. Obviously, he gets it.

“Tonight,” he says, puffing up his chest like he’s about to make a royal proclamation. “Tonight, Vixx will pay for all transportation home!”

And everyone cheers and laughs.

It’s a heartwarming scene, the idol joking around with the back-up dancers, one you’d enjoy under other circumstances.

But enjoying these kinds of scenes is how you and your damn feelings got in too deep in the first place. And you’re going to dig yourself out.

*

“Cheers!”

You raise your glass of water and sip as almost everyone else throws back a shot. This is another reason why you don’t often attend company get-togethers, besides avoiding Ken—it’s boring being the only sober one in a party of two dozen.

At least this evening you’re sitting between Changyeon and Hyuk, both of whom can hold their alcohol and probably won’t vomit all over you. On Changyeon’s other side, Daesuk is getting a little too into it.

“Y/N-ah, this one’s sweet, try it!” He lifts the new pitcher that’s just arrived at the table and tries to wave it at you. Alcohol goes flying. “Oops, sorry, hyung—”

Changyeon hands him eight napkins and confiscates the pitcher in return.

“Oh, that’s the lemon flower summer brew,” Hyuk speaks up unexpectedly from your other side. You turn to find him reaching for the beer. “Pass, hyung?”

“Take it easy, kid.” Changyeon hands it over and looks at you. “You want to try?”

“How sweet can lemon flowers be?” you ask wryly, watching Hyuk gulp it down like it’s orange juice.

He smacks his lips and turns to you, eyes sparkling. “It’s actually really sweet! Do you want to try, noona?”

You’ll never know if he actually knows anyone’s name, because everyone’s a noona or a hyung to him. “I’m good, thanks, Hyuk-ssi.”

“If you like sweet alcohol, we can order some more,” he continues, already re-pouring himself a glass. “They have lots of good ones here.”

Well, if he wants to use you as an excuse to order more beer, who are you to stop him?

“I’m going to the washroom,” you say to Changyeon in an undertone, “don’t let him spill any on my seat, please.”

Changyeon gives you a salute, and you extricate yourself from the table and make your way to the restrooms. There, you’re surprised to find Hongbin.

He’s leaning against the wall beyond the washroom doors, scrolling through his phone. Probably waiting for someone, you think, and move toward the women’s bathroom.

But he looks up at your movement, and recognition flickers in his eyes. “Oh, hello.” He straightens. “Are they looking for me?”

“Eh?” You nearly do a double-take; he’s never initiated a conversation one-on-one before. “Er, excuse me? Who?”

“Oh—sorry. I thought maybe they sent someone to fetch me.” He gives a sheepish smile and looks away. “Never mind.”

Ah. He’s hiding, or taking a break, perhaps. “I think you’re still good for another half hour,” you say tentatively. “They just ordered at least three more pitchers.”

“Tchh.” A small hiss of air escapes Hongbin, and you recall that he’s not fond of alcohol in general. “Well. That’ll keep them occupied.”

“Probably.” You offer a small smile.

He returns his gaze to you. Then he offers a small smile right back, one you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen up close. And Hongbin’s not your type at all, but right now you really understand why he’s the visual.

“Kong-ah!”

A loud cry splits the moment cleanly in half.

You turn with dread, and yes, it’s Ken, strutting down the hall like it’s a wobbly runway. “There you are!” When he spots you, it takes a moment for his eyes to focus enough to recognize your face. “Ah—Y/N!”

Your smile withers by itself. “Hello.” With a curt nod, you turn away and escape into the women’s bathroom.

After doing your business, you make sure the coast is clear of idols before exiting the bathroom. You glance at your watch. One more hour, then you’re heading home, you promise yourself.

There’s some kind of uproar around the table when you get back: half of the group is standing and milling about, and the other half is sitting and laughing their heads off. You make your way to your seat only to find Ravi standing on it, holding Hyuk in front of him like a human shield and screeching.

“Get it, Hyuk-ah, get it!”

Hyuk’s giggling uncontrollably. “Hyung, it’s dead, don’t worry, you drowned in alcohol.”

“No, I saw it twitching!” Ravi gives Hyuk a vigorous shake. “Kill it! Kill it!”

Since he doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon, you try to sidle past him as unobtrusively as possible to reach Changyeon. “Seonbae, what’s going on?”

“There was a bug,” he says with a snort.

Go figure.

Welp, now that your seat’s thoroughly occupied, maybe you can use this as an excuse to jet. “Can you reach my bag?” you ask quietly. “It’s under the chair.”

Changyeon looks up doubtfully at Ravi, who’s nearly bent double with hysteria. “Maybe give him a minute.”

Unfortunately, that minute is just enough time for Hyuk to turn and realize you’re back. “Oh—noona!”

That gets Ravi’s attention too, and he stops quaking long enough to squint at you. “Ah… oh! I’m on your chair!”

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes and just settle for a nod.

“I’m so sorry!” Blathering drunken apologies, Ravi shakily climbs down from the seat. “Please, sit. Sit!”

“It’s okay, Ravi-ssi—”

“Wait. My feet were on it!” He declares this with such horror, he might as well be prophesying your death. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let me clean it for you.”

And he sets about dusting the seat of the chair with his bare hands, blowing at it for good measure.

It’s ridiculous. He looks ridiculous. But you’re laughing for the first time this evening, watching Ravi trip over his drunk-ass self to sweep your seat clean for you.

Beside you, Hyuk’s still giggling. “Yah, Ravi-hyung! Just let noona sit already.” He surprises you by taking your elbow in his large grip and pulling you forward.

“No! My shoes were on it!! My outside shoes!!!”

Hyuk grabs Ravi’s belt and, with one hand, drags him away from the chair. With his other hand, he ushers you toward your seat. “Please, noona, sit,” he says sweetly to you, though the gentlemanly gesture is somewhat marred by his bubbly giggles.

“Thanks, Hyuk.” Chuckling to yourself, you sit.

But Ravi’s still standing there, reaching out with both hands like he needs to confess his sins. “I’m really sorry,” he says with a heartfelt sniff. “There was a bug, and then it was in the beer, and then the beer spilled and it was on the ground…”

“It’s okay,” you tell him again firmly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry… er…” He trails off. “What was your name again?”

You just look at him for two seconds. Aaand somehow, that’s enough to set him off again.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry. That was so rude. I’m sorry I don’t know your name, I swear I’m not usually like this.” He turns and frantically nudges Hyuk in the shoulder. “Hyuk-ah, tell her, I’m not usually rude.”

Hyuk grins that trademark evil maknae grin. “No, usually he’s just awkward.”

“I’m not!” Ravi says. “I’m not, noona, please, believe me.”

You can’t help poking at him one more time. “Noona? Do I look old to you?”

His eyes grow so huge you’re afraid his contacts might fall out. “No! No no no, that’s not what I meant, noon—I mean, no! I didn’t mean that!”

His wailing, as hilarious as it is, is starting to attract too much attention, so you decide to end it quickly. “I was just joking, Ravi-ssi, I actually am your noona.”

He cuts off his torrent of apologies with another melodramatic sniff. “…Really?”

“Yes,” you tell him with a reassuring smile.

“…Noona?”

“Yes, you can call me noona.”

Slowly his expression untwists itself as the start of a loose smile begins to edge onto his lips. He blinks away the glassiness from his eyes, then says abruptly, “I still don’t know your name, though.”

On his other side, Hyuk bursts into giggles again.

“Yah!” Ravi spins and turns on the youngest. “Why is that funny, huh? What are you laughing at?”

You let them occupy themselves and finally turn to sit properly in your chair. Beside you, Changyeon has a fist to his mouth to muffle his chortling.

“It’d probably be bad manners if I left right now, right?” you say to him in an undertone. He just nods and snorts some more.

Once Hyuk manages to push and prod Ravi back to his original seat, things calm down. You help Changyeon mop up a few more of Daesuk’s messes, get Soonil a cab when his partner calls with a family emergency and pick out filters for Ahwon’s and Hyeomi’s selfies.

Before you know it, three hours have passed and everyone’s getting up to leave. It’s the first time you’ve sat through an entire company social; you’re impressed with yourself.

As Changyeon predicted, Leo gets the bill while the others slowly file out. You go to the bathroom again and, when you come out, find almost everyone already gone outside.

“Thank you very much,” the flustered server is saying to Leo, nodding her head repeatedly as she hands him the receipt by the tips of her fingers. “Please—ah, please come again.”

“Thanks.” Leo turns to collect his things, drunk enough to happily ignore the server’s fangirling.

You’re about to follow suit when you notice the server still standing in the same spot, her expression slowly freezing over. She’s holding the machine in one hand and staring at the restaurant’s copy of the receipt in her other.

The look of horror on her face contrasts so harshly with her previously blissful expression that it makes you step a little closer. “Is everything okay?” you ask.

She looks up with a startled backward hop, then relaxes when she sees you instead of Leo. “Ah, yes! Um, I, that is…”

That hesitation clearly means no. “Did we miss something on our bill?” You bend to peer at the receipt.

“No,” she says in a small voice. “I… I forgot to add the 18% service charge for groups of twenty or more.”

“Oh.” That’s an easy-enough fix. You pull out your credit card. “Here, I’ll cover it.”

Relief breaks over her face. “Thank you so much! I’m very sorry, this won’t happen again.”

Not like you’ll be coming here again anytime soon with twenty people, but you appreciate the sentiment. “There you go.” You tap and hand back the machine.

“Thank you, thank you.” She bows twice, then stops to neatly rip off the receipt and hand it to you before bowing again. “Thank you so much, I—”

“Y/N?” Leo walks over, all bundled up in his winter wear and walking like a penguin. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say quickly. “Just checking something.”

“Checking what?” Leo reaches for the receipt in your hand.

You quickly stuff it into your pocket, determined not to embarrass the server in front of him. “Actually, she wanted to take a photo with you,” you pivot. “That’s okay, right?”

The request takes a moment to process in Leo’s tipsy brain. Then he smiles loopily. “Oh. Sure.”

“Perfect.” You turn to the server; she’s staring back at you with her mouth slack. “Here, give me your phone and I’ll take a photo of you two.”

“Eonni… thank you so much,” she whispers back, her eyes shining. You smile and take her phone.

Leo’s extra-cuddly when he’s drunk, so you take a little advantage of this and direct him closer. “Leo-ssi, put your arm around her, I need to get both of you in the frame.”

He does so obediently, and the server’s beaming hard enough to light up the night. It’s no surprise the photos turn out fantastic. (Well, she looks fantastic; Leo definitely looks drunk.)

After taking way more photos than necessary so as to prolong the moment for her, you finally hand back her phone. “There you go.” 

“Thank you,” she repeats once again, almost on the verge of tears. “This is… thank you so—”

Leo interrupts her gushing by waving languidly at you, rather like a queen summoning her subject. “Come on, Y/N, let’s take a photo together.”

You look up. “Huh? Why?”

“It’s your turn now,” he says, like it’s obvious.

Uhh… “I’m okay, I don’t need a photo.”

“You don’t want to?” He frowns.

“It’s not that—” You hold back your laugh. “We see each other at least once a week, Leo-ssi.”

He cocks his head. “Oh. You’re right.”

“You’re so lucky,” the server whispers beside you.

You smile at her. “Thanks for putting up with us tonight.”

“Oh, of course! It was a pleasure.” She bows deeply to you, and then to Leo. “Have a good night! Take care! Come again!”

“Good night,” Leo says cheerily to her, and then decides to sling his arm on your shoulders next.

You awkwardly walk out like that, half-supporting Leo’s weight and half-being dragged forward by his long stride. By the time you make it out the door, there’s only Ken and Changyeon left by the taxi stand.

“Hyung!” Ken waves widely at Leo. “There you are, I thought you got lost down the toilet.”

“No.” Leo sways a little when you prod him upright, but he stays on his feet. “Not down the toilet. Down Y/N’s pocket.”

The three of you gape at him. Changyeon shoots you a look that says ??? You return one that says ??????

Then Leo thrusts his hand into the air in triumph, and there, fluttering in his grip, is the restaurant receipt. Your restaurant receipt.

You check your coat pocket, and yep, it’s no longer there. He must’ve used the arm around your shoulder to sneak it out.

“Leo-ssi,” you say in your sternest tone, “give that back to me.”

“Nope!” He smiles proudly and brings the paper close to his nose. “Let’s see…”

“What’s that? What is it?” Ken shuffles around to try and read it.

Changyeon sidles over to you. “What’s going on?” he mutters.

“It’s nothing, the server just forgot to add the service charge when she billed Leo, so I covered it,” you mutter back.

“Ahh.”

“Do you think I can expense it to the company?” you joke.

Leo whips around before Changyeon can reply. “Y/N.”

“Hm?” You look up to find him staring at you, smile gone. “Uh, what is it?”

“You paid the tip. For our meal.”

“Er,” you say. “Yeah.”

“But we were treating.”

“And I chipped in a little, that’s all.”

“No, that’s not right.” Leo’s drawing himself up to his full height now, his sense of injustice apparently awakened. “We can’t make you pay for that.”

“You didn’t make me pay—”

And now Leo’s got his wallet out, fumbling casually through paper bills like it’s Monopoly money. You huff out an exasperated laugh and hurry forward to stop him.

“It’s fine. No, it’s fine, seriously—don’t flash your thousands out on the street like this, it’s not safe.” 

“Y/N-ah.” He looks earnestly into your eyes as he adds on the informal suffix.

“Yes?” You let him take your hands between his mittened ones.

“You’re not going to pay, okay?”

You give up trying to convince him and switch tactics instead. “Okay, okay, I’m not paying.” You pat his hands. “Now, Changyeon-seonbae’s going to call you guys a taxi, okay?”

“No!” Ken shouts suddenly, making all of you jump. “It was supposed to be Vixx treating all of you. Vixx paying for transportation. We can’t let you pay!”

In the silence that follows, everyone just looks at him.

You’re a little too tired to think of a neutral response to his outburst, so you decide to ignore it and turn back to Leo. “Here, put your wallet away and go stand with Changyeon-seonbae.” You send a look over your shoulder to Changyeon, who comes over and starts tugging Leo toward the taxi stand.

“C’mon, Taekwoon-ah, put those bills back…”

Whew. That’s one tipsy Leo out of your hands.

But Ken doesn’t follow; he stays rooted in the same place, staring at you.

“Do you hate me?” he asks suddenly.

Your head snaps around so fast you’re sure something cracks.

Rubbing your neck gingerly, you say, “Excuse me?”

He tilts his head, unsmiling. “Why do I feel like you don’t like me?”

Um… “I’m not sure,” you reply cautiously. You’re not sure how much of this he’s going to remember tomorrow, but either way, you need to keep this conversation as safe as possible.

“You smile with Hongbin-ah. You laugh with Ravi and Hyogi. You’re touchy with Leo-hyung.” Ken’s counting on his gloved fingers like a toddler. “You don’t do any of those with me. You ignore me.”

Not a lie. “I don’t hate you, Ken-ssi,” you say, instead of addressing his statements. “I’m glad to have the chance to work with you.”

“But you don’t like me.”

For some reason, those words coming out of his mouth make your temper rise. It’s easy for an idol like him to be liked. Why should he complain because you’re fighting it, because you don’t want to show it? Why should he poke and question you like this when you’re trying to get over it? Why should he get to ask these things on a drunken Friday night while you’re scooping out your heart little by little to make a living?

Fuck.

“I do like you,” you snap. “I like you a lot, Lee Jaehwan.”

It’s the angriest confession you’ve ever given.

But maybe this is how the end starts. Maybe this is how you turn the page for yourself.

Ken blinks. Takes in those words.

Then he beams. “Really?”

Jesus.

You sigh and turn away. If you can just freeze-frame this image of him, smiling drunkenly at nothing, asking “Really?” like a clueless dumbass, and burn it into your memory, then you’re sure you really will be able to get over him.

*

chapter two: baby →

#vixx #vixx fic #vixx x reader #k-pop #ken x reader #lee jaehwan #eaf original #eaf writes vixx #eaf: falling into the sky

[hollandroos]

The Price We Pay | Chapter 2

Summary: A one night stand was all it took for your entire life to change. You're shoved into unknown territory, agreeing to fake date the prince long enough for his parents and the media to get off of his back only there are a few issues... one of them being that you really can’t stand each other.

Series Masterlist | Wattpad | Playlist

Words: 2.8k - Future chapters will be a lot longer, I just struggled a lot with this one.

Warnings: None really for this chapter

A/N: This chapter isn’t as jam packed but it was needed for the storyline– good/interesting things are coming for these two!! enjoy the rather timid storyline while it lasts. Chapter three is going to be FULL! Also I did decide to keep the Royal AU in this just because changing it proved more stressful then I originally thought and this just... works better in the long run!!

Agreeing to that deal had to be the best and worst thing you had done in your life because within minutes, Tom had left with no more than a thank you and an ‘I promise I’ll get back to you later.’ That was enough to leave you wide-eyed and overthinking. Everything that had happened in the span of the last ten minutes sounded nearly insane.

You then had to think about the fact that ‘dating’ Tom came with meeting his parents, the king and queen as well as having to keep up an act in the public eye. Sure you dealt with him the other night but both of you were drunk and needy, now you were fully sober and despising the idea of having to be a full-time girlfriend to someone you’d known for a few days. You felt a pang of what could only be a distaste for the prince and maybe you were just being a grump. Anyone else would have been overjoyed to be in this situation but not you.

In your eyes he wasn’t a royal– though you never gave them a second thought— he was just Tom, someone you met in a bar and happened to go home with.

He hadn’t fully informed you about what you’d gotten yourself into, not yet warning you of the extent of the media and his responsibilities but he didn’t have time. He left with his hood thrown over his head once more, looking like robin hood or that arrow character you’d seen in comic books. His promise to get back to you was also a promise to sort out plans, dates to please the public and fittings for expensive clothes that would make you look good enough to be seen with him.

Now, maybe Tom should have informed you of the extent of the situation because then you wouldn’t be heavily debating between further destroying his reputation and becoming the worst thing for his image, or actually doing what he wanted and becoming the picture perfect girlfriend. But rules were made to be broken, right? Even when it came to the royals?

What the fuck was he doing?

It did mean one good thing, however, that you didn’t have to go to work that day, or the day after and not have to worry about losing your job. You close the door with a slam once you could no longer see his coat dragging across the ground and slide the lock as you chuck your bag down and trudge back into the kitchen. You were going for a second bowl of cereal.

Poor Mallery was still staring in shock, her rake now hard against the pavement and you only hoped that she wouldn’t pull her back out picking it up.

“Who was at the door?”

You look over, seeing your roommate wobble into the room. Milly’s hair was all over the place like a birds nest, a robe thrown around her plaid pyjamas messily and she yawned unattractively, heading straight to the pot of not so freshly brewed coffee. The girl loved anything to do with drama and gossip, insisting that nothing good ever happened around here and she would have eaten your story up with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

You shrug your shoulders, groaning when you see that you were out of milk. “Just those kids from down the road trying to sell us cookies again.”

“Again? Maybe it’s because we bought three packs last time.” She snorts and sips her coffee, burning her tongue within the first sip and curses. Though you hoped it was because she’d tasted the scolding bitterness of the coffee instead of spotting the paper sitting on the dining table.

“Hey, you know the prince?” You question, staring at the closed door.

“Tom? Of course, I do, he’s a damn snack.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes that was somehow tied with the desire to tell her all about your night out– she’d find out eventually.

“What else do you think of him? Like, seriously.”

Milly shrugs her shoulders. “He seems cocky but definitely has a certain charm, you know? I think he’ll make a good king one day, but he actually has to settle down first.”

Sober you felt that Tom was a complete and utter asshole for getting you into this mess.

Maybe you were just too blind and full of unnecessary hatred to see that you got into it the second you dragged him out of that bar.

-

Tom had raced back to a house at a speed like no other, dodging the townsfolks and had gotten oddly close to knocking over a stall of fresh fruits and vegetables– why they were up at only near seven? He didn’t know. However, Tom was spoiled and had his fruits brought to him fresh every morning served on a silver platter with matching forks and knives. The only work the boy had done in his life was preparing to take the throne one day, which wasn’t much work at all, he was born for this.

He raced up to his room but it was hard with the number of stairs and irreplaceable sets of furniture that scattered around the house. The last thing he wanted to do was break something and upset his mother. Everything was either gold, white or silver despite Toms advice that was to add a little dark blue or red, he really had an eye for those two colours– obviously. He mutters good mornings to the maids as he went with one destination in mind: his room.

Tom already knew Harrison would be there waiting nervously. The boy was always more on-edge than Tom was, even growing up.

He tears the door open and as he expected, Harrison was there and practically jumped up off of the bed the second he walks in, eyes wide and unexpecting.

“Your dad's up and he’s not happy.” Harrison hisses, helping Tom slid the coat off of his shoulders and hung it up for the boy who fumbled around the room to find an outfit that his parents would appreciate. Anything was better than the dirty riding gear. “I told him that you went out for an early ride before breakfast.”

“When is he ever happy?” Tom scoffs. “Look, I sort of fixed things. They won’t be able to stay mad at me.”

In the hour or so that he’d been gone his bed had been made, clothes that were scattered across the floor had been picked up and his desk had clearly been organised. Tom didn’t ask if the maids had come in or if Harrison had been the one to clean but he had a hunch it was the boy that had been nervously sitting on his bed in desperate need of a distraction.

“What did you do?” Harrison wasn’t actually sure he wanted to find out, knowing Toms track record with impromptu plans.

“Come have breakfast with us and find out.”

“You know I’m not supposed–”

“This is a formal invitation from a royal, you can’t say no. My mum loves you, she won’t care.” Tom tells him, checking himself out in the mirror. Tom runs a hand through his curls, fluffing them up a little. “Besides, don’t you want to hear my little less-than-fantastic plan to steal the public's gaze from those stupid photos?”

“I can say no and besides, your dad scares me,” Harrison utters, speaking honestly and rightfully so, the king would scare anyone.

“You’re a fool.” Tom stops, grabbing Harrison's arm and tugs him towards the door. The maids stop and nod their heads respectfully as they see the prince. “C’mon, we’re having pancakes.”

Maybe Tom should have stopped and taken another moment to regain his breathing or think things through more thoroughly because he was acting on a whim, pulling things out of a hat as he went.

Maybe deep down he was scared– at least anxious.

-

Tom and Harrison stepped into the room carefully, each taking care as they discussed Tom’s stupidity in harsh whispers that only made the boys feel more unsettled.

He had been growing bored lately and asked the lords for something but not this– god, not this.

Tom could lie to his father but not his mother, possibly the most pure-hearted woman he’d ever come to know.

He felt terrible but knew this was the best option, the only way he could still look his mother in the eye after hearing what occurred.

The table was thick with tension and it was obvious before they even sat down but the second he did, he wished he hadn’t. Harrison obviously felt the same, choosing the seat closest to the Queen whom he could never not feel safe around.

It was right there in front of him, an obviously thrown around paper as well as his father who was as red-faced and angry as ever. The last thing the King wanted right after being woken up was to find out that his son had been causing more trouble.

His beard was greying, but still trimmed as neatly as ever and the crown that sat upon his head even as unnecessary as it was at this time of the morning remained on a slight angle, bits of dark hair sticking out from underneath.

Tom was probably going to look like him one day. He just hoped he wouldn’t be as miserable a king.

He knew it was coming before it happened– like a volcano that spewed spurts of ash before it erupted.

“Do you know how bad this is? What it could do to you?” There it was. “You’re a prince, Thomas. You can’t just go around doing this. We finally fixed things after– after her and now this?”

The king sighs, rubbing his wrinkly temples.

His dad held the paper with a clenched fist, practically ripping the pages that had been handed to him by one of his men first thing. Tom had to swallow harshly, not wanting to stare at the pictures again– it had already been a long morning because of them and he was tired at only seven thirty. Plus, they were reasonably explicit photos and his parents had seen them.

Oh fuck.

Somehow his night of fun and games had turned into one he dreaded thinking back to. What really did make him feel an ounce of satisfaction was seeing that you still wore little pieces of it, like the marks scattered along your neck and he suddenly felt uncomfortable in his seat remembering the scratches down his back.

“Look, it’s really not that bad–”

A plate of pancakes is placed in front of the prince and he nearly forgot about the argument upon seeing large chocolate chips and a side of blueberries. Harrison’s was similar, but instead of blueberries, it had strawberries. He was allergic to blueberries, they made his throat swell up and if they didn’t get to him on time, well, one can imagine what would happen.

A fist knocks the table and the Queen jumps back in response, cutlery clatters. “Not that bad? You have a mind of your own, boy, I tell you.”

“I know it looks really bad and you’re right, it is but there’s another side to the story, I promise.” He rushes.

“I don’t know what you can do to get yourself out of this mess, boy.” Words slithered through gritted teeth like venom. Harsh.

A sullen silence sat around the dining room, everyone including Tom too afraid to speak up and even his mother sat still, clutching her cutlery set for dear life as the older man's voice hit each of the four walls.

“It’s just– it’s not what it looks like.” He hurries out, knowing that the older man's temper was only limited at this point. Tom swallows thickly, trying to ignore his clammy hands. Tom glances at Harrison who felt that with every second, he was being dragged more and more into this mess that he hadn’t wanted to know about in the first place.

“Your Highness–”

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom spills the words quickly, muttering them so quick he swore they were barely audible.

He watches his mother's eyes widen dramatically, her face shifting from stern to confused to slightly excited. Tom wanted to smirk knowing that he had at least one of his two parents in the bag. Of course it wasn’t too hard for his mum to believe it considering she’d been pestering him to find someone for months now.

“Your– your what?” His dad stumbles.

“You and Mother were right. I finally sat down and thought about everything you were saying and I realised that I need to stop wallowing in self-pity. I met her a couple months ago at an event and we started dating about two weeks ago.”

Tom grit his teeth together, knowing that the completely made up story sounded just that… made up. Would his father really listen to him?

His mother leans forward in her seat, sparing her husband a glance and Tom plays with a fork. “Why didn’t you tell us?” She speaks, soft voice resonating with his.

“I wanted to make sure things were right before I told you, but now you know.” Tom shrugs his shoulders, the clothing he’d thrown on just moments after he’d gotten back from yours hanging off of his body. To his family, it would’ve been classed as untidy but they were all too distracted at this point. “The media ruined the surprise I guess– she’s really lovely.”

“Harrison, did you know about this?” Derek directs his gaze to Harrison who nearly chokes on his pancakes. The poor boy had been trying to ignore the conversation, not wanting any part of whatever mess his mate was getting himself in but had no failed drastically.

He coughs repeatedly, dabbing his face with a napkin. “Huh– no, no of course not. It’s just as a big of a surprise to me as it is to you, your highness.”

His cheeks ran red, searching for a quick escape that wouldn’t come.

“When do we get to meet this… Y/N?” Anne's gentle eyes remained on her son, heart fluttering at the thought of her son finally finding someone that made him happy.

“I can invite her over if that would make you guys happy but I’ll warn you, she’s nervous about meeting you.” Tom offers, he also offers a warm smile, picking around at his breakfast with the fork.

He was nervous about bringing an absolute stranger to the castle, not knowing how you’d act and if you’d make this mess worse than it already was. He made a mental note to get you to come over a few hours earlier to get a suitable dress fitted and to learn only the simplest manners and rules because god knows the ones in the castle were much stricter than most out in the town. Plus, he couldn’t ignore the mental image of you in a fancy– near princess— dress.

The look of uncertainty his mother sent him didn’t go unnoticed by Tom. She was ever so observant and rightfully so bringing up a son that enjoyed to cause trouble and sneak around when he thought no one was watching.

“Two days from now we want to meet this girl that you’ve been hiding from us.” Derek reaches over and pats Tom on the shoulder forcefully making the boy jolt forward slightly. “I’m proud of you, Thomas. Not only for listening to us and admitting that we were right but also for finding a girl and keeping her around.”

“Thank you, I really think you’ll like her.” He wore a fake smile, lips pressed together firmly. It was a concoction of lies that would one day get Tom into a world of trouble if this plan were to go south.

It was one thing to lie to your parents, but it was another to lie to the King and Queen– where the stakes were high and reputations were cherished.

Tom knew that this would also come with a selection of public appearances with physical affection such as hand-holding and acting happy with a girl he’d known for a little over two days. The boy could do that because if he wasn’t a prince he’d want to act in those shows downtown but you, however, that was a different story. How did he know that you wouldn’t let him down?

“Harrison? Can you please pass the syrup?”

Harrisons' cheeks were still flaming red, his eyes wide an alert as he painfully passed over the saucer to the king. He was already balls deep in this mess too and Tom sends him a look that says ‘We’ll talk about this later.’

Good fucking lord.

Leave comments or asks, reblog if you wish!! let’s talk about this chapter!

Part three!!

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#tom holland #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland fanfiction #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland reader insert #Tom Holland series #Tom Holland au #prince!tom #royal au

[musicprincess655]

Mei was trying his best not to track Itsuki as he wove between people, and mostly failing. He’d been doing better at the beginning of the night, but that had been…more drinks than he wanted to admit ago.

Itsuki wasn’t quite as exuberant as he’d been in high school, but there was still a very cute quality to his body language. Mei couldn’t quite keep his eyes off it, even if it hurt.

He could only generously be called tipsy. He wanted another drink.

“Hey.” Mei jumped as Kazuya flopped on the couch next to him, arm across the back. “You don’t look like someone who just won a gold medal.”

“It’s a celebration,” Mei countered, raising his glass. “I’m celebrating.”

Even without looking, Mei could feel Kazuya’s eyes on him, and if he pretended hard, he could pretend it was judgement he felt as he drained the glass.

“Some celebration,” Kazuya said, far more diplomatic than he’d been when they were teenagers. Mei snorted.

“Maybe I should be calling you out instead,” he said. “I don’t see you drinking anything. Don’t tell me you’re completely sober. We did just win a gold medal, after all.”

“I don’t really drink,” Kazuya said lightly. “It doesn’t agree with me.”

“Control freak.”

“I think you’ve had enough for both of us,” Kazuya said. “How many is that for you?”

“Careful, Kazuya, I’ll think you care.”

“I care,” Kazuya shot back defensively. “We’re friends, after all.”

“Friends who haven’t spoken in eight years.” Still, Mei couldn’t inject enough sarcasm into his voice to make it sound like he really thought Kazuya was wrong.

“We’re what passes for friends for people like us,” Kazuya said. “Seriously, though, are you okay? I thought you’d be happy, but you just look like someone stole your girlfriend.”

Mei snorted again.

“Why are you bothering me?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on your partner? I bet he’s a handful at parties.”

“Eijun’s an adult,” Kazuya said. “He doesn’t need a babysitter.”

A loud crash interrupted them. Mei whipped his head around until he found Sawamura bowing and apologizing profusely in archaic Japanese, trying and failing to help clean up the tray of food he’d upended. His cheeks were flushed red and he was obviously tipsy. Carlos had an arm around his shoulders, laughing uproariously.

“Really,” Mei deadpanned. Kazuya buried his face in his free hand.

“Fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath.

“So I’m the one here drinking enough for the two of us?” Mei asked.

“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean Eijun can’t,” Kazuya said. “He deserves to have fun too.”

“Never thought I’d hear you on first name basis with the brat,” Mei commented.

“Hey.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No,” Kazuya rolled his eyes. “He’s a disrespectful little shit, isn’t he? I should still be mad about it, but it’s been a decade now, and he’s still treating me like we’re the same age. There’s not much I can do about it anymore.”

“Cute,” Mei said. “You’re soft with him.”

“I am not!”

“Soft as marshmallow,” Mei said, poking Kazuya in the cheek. “How long have you been together?”

Mei felt Kazuya freeze on the couch next to him, and rolled his eyes.

“How do you mean?” Kazuya asked carefully.

“Did you want me to be more specific?” Mei asked. “How long have you two been fucking?”

“It’s not…that’s not…” Kazuya trailed off.

“Relax,” Mei sighed, waving away Kazuya’s obvious panic. “It’s not obvious to anyone. I just know you.”

“Oh. That’s…okay,” Kazuya stuttered. He still looked ready to bolt for the nearest exit.

“Oh, for the love of…Kazuya, I like boys too,” Mei sighed, annoyed. “I’m not about to out you to the whole world.”

“Oh.” Finally, finally Mei felt Kazuya relax. “I mean, I kind of figured? But I didn’t want to assume.”

“Definitely bisexual,” Mei agreed. “So my question stands: how long have you two been together?”

“Halfway through college,” Kazuya told him. “Damn idiot really followed me there, and he’s kind of hard to say no to, in case you haven’t noticed. He’s stubborn. He wouldn’t stop asking until I agreed.”

“Sounds like every woman’s worst nightmare,” Mei commented.

“It doesn’t sound great,” Kazuya agreed. “But…I wanted to say yes, the first time he asked. He knew it, I knew it, and the only reason I didn’t was because I was afraid. He didn’t seem to think that was a good enough reason.”

“Well, yeah,” Mei shrugged. “You’re happier now.”

“That’s what everyone tells me,” Kazuya said. “Not that most of them know why, but even my dad thinks I look happier now.”

“You’re not out to anyone, are you?” Mei asked. Kazuya had always been someone overruled by his head in favor of his heart.

“A few friends,” Kazuya said. “Kuramochi, Haruichi, friends we can trust. And Eijun told his parents, because he refused to not. They took it way better than I thought they would.”

“Well, from the outside, you’re exactly what every mother hopes her daughter brings home,” Mei said. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised about you and Sawamura, though. You were always close.”

“Even against my better judgement,” Kazuya replied. “You and Tadano aren’t anymore.”

“Ah, well. The distance of eight years can really break up a battery,” Mei said. Suddenly, he wasn’t having much fun anymore.

“Still, you were close in high school,” Kazuya continued. “You couldn’t have been the battery you were if you hadn’t been. I’m not gonna lie, I kind of expected you two to run into each other’s arms like some shitty shoujo reunion when you saw each other again.”

“You’re fishing,” Mei said.

“Just curious,” Kazuya countered. “I mean, the only reason we never kept in touch is because I refuse to get LINE, right? I know you keep up with everyone else. Even Eijun gets a message from you sometimes.”

Mei shrugged. Sawamura was easy to rile up with challenges, and sometimes it was fun to poke the sleeping bear when he was bored, or otherwise in need of distraction.

“I really haven’t spoken to him in eight years,” Mei said. “Not since the day I left Japan.”

“Why?”

It was a question that had plagued Mei in the depths of depression that had set in right after he’d moved to America. It wasn’t completely unexpected that he’d had them. Culture shock was a real thing, and for a while, he’d felt adrift, lost at sea without an anchor to hold him in place. Some parts of his current life – namely, the one night stands that increasingly did less and less to help him feel anything – were a relic of that time.

“You really wanna know?” Mei asked. A party seemed like the worst kind of time to tell his sob story, but far be it for him to tell Kazuya no when he insisted on asking.

“I’ve got time,” Kazuya said. “I’ll go scrape my idiot off the floor in a few hours.”

Mei chuckled to himself, reaching for an unattended glass on the table and draining it in one gulp.

“It all started after we lost to you guys in the finals for the Koshien qualifier.”

#itsumei #miyusawa #daiya no a #dna #my writing #bos