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inmyownlaine · 3 years

Note

Hi,love your writing and was wondering if I could request a John Murphy fluff/angst based on season 2or3 where the reader and him get in an argument about him ‘being with Emori’ but he likes the reader?

John Murphy x Reader: Promises

*Absolutely! Thank you for the suggestion. Also, let's just act like I haven't been MIA for literal months :)

GIF//

Warnings: None to my knowledge!

Word Count: 2078

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“Don’t go,” you begged, grabbing Murphy’s hand as it swung carelessly behind him. When your fingers touched his skin, Murphy stopped immediately. He inhaled heavily through his nose, trying to control the sadness and desire that you sent rippling through his body.

“Murphy, please,” you whimpered.

Murphy’s shoulder dropped as he let the single strap of his backpack slide down his arm. Your eyes lit up, hoping that was a positive sign. Hoping that you were enough to make him stay.

“I can’t.”

“You can,” you said assertively. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he replied, apologetic eyes looking at you between half-closed eyelids. He was right. You didn’t understand. He had nothing to apologize for. He didn’t have to prove himself to you. Or ask for your forgiveness. None of the things that his blue eyes seemed to convey.

“You don’t need redemption.”

“But if I go now, maybe when I come back-”

“What?” you interrupted. “Everything will suddenly be different?”

“Is it so wrong to want that?” he questioned softly, a shaky sigh leaving his body. You tightened your grip, white knuckles against red calloused ones. Just another casualty of his bad temper.

“Of course not. But you’re not going to fix anything by leaving. You need to stay. Stay and show them who you can be. Don’t leave and prove them right.”

Murphy dropped his head, fixated on your two hands intertwined. There was a lot more going on than the surface discussion. You danced around being in love by using double meanings and knowing glances. This wasn’t about him leaving to find himself. It was about him leaving you.

Glassy eyes meet together in a flurry of uncertainty and passion. The pit of your stomach churned as Murphy leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. They barely touched before he pulled away, eyes closed. It was a kiss that you never wanted to experience, especially being your first.

You knew he was leaving.

“Don’t cry,” he told you, hearing a sniffle escape. His eyes still rested, he quietly spoke, “I will be back. I promise. I have something to come back to.”

“Murphy, I-”

“I promise.” He now faced the reality of the situation, confronting his fears head on as he stared into your bloodshot eyes. There was no way he would ever be the cause of this again. He just needed one chance to make you proud. To clear his name.

“I promise.”

────────────────────────────────────────────

The taste of dirt and sweat caused you to gag as you were manhandled into the unknown. You had no idea why you were the target of a kidnapping. If anything, you laid low and kept to yourself. Regardless, you followed the directions given to you, fearing what would become of your life if you didn’t.

“I’ve brought you some company!” the voice behind you bellowed. You jumped at the sudden noise, interested in the way he practically sang the announcement.

“Who?” another voice asked, seeming alert and slightly panicked. You knew this voice anywhere and it quickly became clear why you were here. Even still, you obeyed the commands given. If you spoke a word, made any noise, it would be the end of your life.

“Worried, are we?” The man started to laugh heartily as you continued to walk. Every thundering step matched the beating of your heart. What would happen when you finally stopped?

There was no response, so the man began to speak. “Someone who wouldn’t shut up about you. Scared for you. Desperate to see you.”

As if being captured weren’t enough, this was just plain humiliating. He didn’t have to recount all the times you pined after Murphy while he was gone. You lost track of the months it had been since you last saw him. This was not how you wanted to reunite.

“Who. Is. It?” Murphy asked yet again. It was dark and menacing. A resemblance of a person that he used to be. You knew that would always be a part of him. Especially when it involved people that he cared about.

“A girlfriend?” the man guessed. You cringed hearing that word, tormenting and taunting you of what never was. But how Murphy replied was even more heartbreaking.

“Emori?” The man began to cackle once more as Murphy cursed and threatened his life. It was terrible to hear the intensity of his love. How much he cared for someone else while you turned others down, waiting for him.

The man gave you one last shove, causing you to fall to your knees. Through minute gaps in the woven sack over your head, you finally caught an amber hue of light. You groaned in pain, trying your best to stay upright with your hands tied behind your back.

There was a brief moment of silence before another outburst broke out. This time, you heard the scuffling of feet against the floor. Fabric harshly rubbed against a scratchy surface. It sounded like an attempt to escape.

“Let her go!” Murphy yelled.

“Why would I do that? I have everything I need, now. Except for the information.”

“Just let her go and I’ll tell you, okay? I’ll tell you everything,” Murphy frantically said.

“But I’m having so much fun. Maybe just one...little…” A cold blade touched your neck, causing a shriek to escape your throat. He put an ounce of pressure against your rapidly thumping artery.

“I swear to God if you hurt her I will kill you!” Murphy’s voice was full of anguish as it broke here and there. It was a frequency in which you had never heard from him. It was harrowing to witness.

The knife was removed from your neck. In a series of exchanges, Murphy gave him the answer to every single question he asked. When the interrogation was over, you were picked up and moved to a new area. Here, you were tied once more around my stomach.

Then, without warning, the bag was removed from your head. You could barely take in my surroundings before Murphy called your name. Tears fell from your eyes as you saw, for the first time in months, John Murphy. Though you had to admit, he looked worse for wear.

“Murphy,” you cried back, wanting more than anything to be able to touch him. To hug him. To take in his scent. You had been without this man for way too long.

“That’s sweet,” the man, who you could now identify as Titus, interrupted. “But I’ve got what I wanted. For now.” And with that, he turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving you and Murphy alone.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Murphy asked immediately.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “But you don’t look good at all.”

“Yeah, well, being tortured does that to a person.”

“He tortured you?” you questioned, breath leaving your body. Picturing someone hurting Murphy made you sick.

“A few times,” he shrugged.

You wanted to be happy. You wanted to ask him about his trip. You wanted to know if he discovered himself. If he found who he truly was. But you couldn’t get past the fact that he said another girl’s name.

You never claimed to be anything more than friends, but you thought it went without saying. A person doesn’t just kiss someone before they leave. Or promise that they would come back to you.

“I hate that I have to see you like this,” Murphy finally said, breaking the silence. “I always imagined coming back to camp with Jaha’s group. We just saved the human race, or something like that. But it didn’t matter, because I was looking for you.”

“Not Emori?” you mumbled, mustering up the courage to be so bold. Murphy’s eyes grew wide as he avoided your haunting gaze.

“Look, it wasn’t supposed to- she just- we were,” he tried to explain, slumping over in the process.

“I waited for you. Every day,” you admitted. “The last thing I did before I went to bed was look out the gate for you. Every morning I woke up with the hope that it would be the day you came back to me.”

You started to sob, recounting the loneliness that you felt. And the fear of not knowing Murphy’s fate. Were you holding out for someone who was dead? Was it hopeless to wish that he would keep his promise?

“I turned people down. I kept faith in you. I told everyone how proud I was. And then to know that you weren’t keeping me with you at all. I wasn’t even a passing thought.”

“It’s not like that,” Murphy said.

“But it is. She’s your girlfriend.”

“I don’t- love her,” he said softly, swallowing hard enough to make his entire throat bob up and down.

“Then what?” You were at the tipping point with Murphy. Exasperated with his short answers and frustrated with the secrets he was holding. If he wouldn’t be honest with you now, there was no way you would ever be with him in the future.

“I’ve been through a lot. More than I expected.” He stared into the distance, seemingly void of emotion. It was like he was lost, trying hard to remember something that he pushed away. “I was trapped. By myself. 86 days. You know how I spent that time?”

You shook your head in response. He was still burning holes in the wall, but somehow knew that you replied. He smirked slightly before saying, “I thought about you. And how good it would feel to see you once I was out. Granted, I went absolutely crazy in there, but you kept me as sane as I could be.”

You couldn’t help but to chuckle at this. “I can’t imagine you any more psychotic than you are now.”

“Is that so?” he bantered, catching you out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re a freak,” you teased.

“Why? Because I’ve killed a few people?”

“Yeah, that probably contributes.” The two of you shared a smile, falling back into old patterns. You missed having a person that you could shamelessly be yourself around. The quick wit and sly comments were always absorbed and thrown back by Murphy. No one else stood a chance against you.

“When he said he had someone,” Murphy carried on, “you’re the first person I thought of. But it seemed impossible until I saw you. I don’t know what came over me. I- I was blind with rage. I tried to fight my way out. Because if he hurt you-”

Murphy couldn’t bear to finish the sentence. You didn’t need him to. You knew what was left to say. You heard the distinct difference, the silence that fell, when he realized you were the captured person and not Emori.

“I know that doesn’t make any of this right, but I just wanted that feeling of safety that you gave me. And Emori was there. I misplaced it. And I’m sorry,” Murphy apologized.

“What about Emori, then?” you pressed.

“She’s a good person, and she will understand. I just couldn’t live with myself if I left you again.”

“You mean that?” Murphy simply nodded, outstretching his fingers in your direction. Even though you couldn’t hold hands, the sentiment remained as you reflected his actions. You were two people trying to make your own light in the darkest of situations.

“I love you,” you managed to choke out, taking in the dried blood on his hairline and the bruises on his skin. His pant leg was ripped at the cuff and his hands were caked in dirt. You needed him to know that no matter what happened, now and forever, that he could carry this with him. Even after death, if fate so decided.

“I love you, too,” he said, without hesitation or a second thought. It was something he wished he had told you the night he decided to leave. The only thing he regretted once he left the compound.

But he had the chance to fix all of that. And in that moment, he swore that once you escaped, he would always be there to protect you. He would always console you and your wondering thoughts. He would love you the way that he should have a long time ago.

He promised he would always find a way to come back to you.

He promised he would never leave.

He promised.

**Hey, it's Lainey. Slightly embarrassing but I am back from the grave! I hope you all enjoy this and still love Murphy as much as I do <3

#john murphy #john murphy fanfic #john murphy imagine #john murphy x reader #the100 #The 100 #the100fanfic #the100fanfiction #the100fic #johnmurphyfic #love #writing #john murphy fanfiction #johnmurphyimagine

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wheresmybuckyhoes · 3 years

Text

Spiked

Summary: You are forced to go on a mission with Bucky, someone you don’t really get along with. What happens when hydra men get their hands on you?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, drinking, mentions of drugging, references to rape, angst

Well this was longer than I intended. I maaaay write a smutty part 2 if enough people like this, but I hope you firstly just enjoy this little thing I thought of. Love you x

‘You have got to be fucking kidding me’ you groan as you open the suit door to reveal a beautiful room of crimson and black, the intoxicatingly sweet scent of roses wafting through the air. You narrow your eyes, taking in the black marble bathtub, the double shower heads, the ornate fireplace and finally - the source of your anger - the king sized double bed, a bed frame delicately covered in carvings of flowers, dusted in a fading gold.

‘I’m calling Tony’ you seethed, a bratty undertone to your voice as you direct it at the man stood at the doorway, noticing a subtle eye roll adorn his face. The phone rings as you pace around the room, heavy footsteps cushioned by the soft carpet beneath you. Meanwhile Bucky moved to place your bags down on the dresser beneath the window, getting one of the straps caught between the plates on his arm, cursing under his breath as he begins to aggressively pull and twist.

Unsurprisingly, the phone continues to ring until you hear a voice from the other end say ‘Tony Stark is unavailable right now, please leave a message after the bee...’, before angrily pressing the red button on your phone to hang up. ‘Fuck. I am not sharing a bed with you, Barnes. I already hate you enough, no need to make it worse’ you warn him as you toss your phone onto the bed and run your fingers through your hair, a small action which you tend to do when stressed.

‘Obviously not doll’ Bucky breathed as he finally freed the bag from between the plates of his vibranium arm, trying to play it off so you wouldn’t laugh at him. You sighed in relief, a hand on your chest as you turn to look at him.‘Oh thank the gods. I’m sure you’ll be fine on the floor so...’ you started before Bucky held up a hand to shut you up. ‘We won’t be sharing a bed because you’ he explained, poking his metal finger lightly in your chest as he smiled down on you, ‘...will be sleeping on the floor’.

Your mouth fell slightly open, not from surprise though. You knew going on this mission was going to take a lot out of you. You and Bucky were sent on this mission by Tony and Bruce to attend one of those fancy rich people auctions as a fake couple. Your task was to intercept a small branch of hydra trying to sell illegal weapons on the black market. Natasha sniffed them out weeks ago, but she had to go help mother fucking Clint with some shit. I don’t know, or care. It’s Clint. Anyway, Tony promised he would book you a room with 2 separate beds, as you had specifically requested, but looks like the literal billionaire couldn’t even sort that one out.

‘You must be joking’ you snapped back in annoyance, glaring into his crystalline blue eyes which sparkled not so innocently with mischief. ‘Do I look like it?’ he replied, a smirk playing on his annoyingly perfect lips. ‘Do you really think I’m going to sleep on the floor?’ you questioned furiously, gazing upon Bucky with hatred by now. ‘I’d rather you not sleep here at all. That way I wouldn’t even have to look at your face’ he answers carelessly, shooting you a sarcastic smile. You rolled your eyes with an exaggerated flare, glaring at him before shoving past him to grab your bag. ‘Fine. You win this time Bucky. See you at the auction at 9’ you spoke calmly, making sure to bump into him roughly as you made your way over to the door. ‘Wait y/n I didn’t mean...’ you heard his deep voice grumble as you slammed the door as hard as you could. Now, how to get a new room?

——————————(<>)———————————

Pushing the door to your new room open, you were faced with a small single bed, a cramped bathroom and an old desk. It was still quite fancy compared to the hotels you stayed in as a child, but it was nothing compared to the room Bucky had forced you out of. Not really worth flashing that worker in the lobby for, but at least you got the room for free.

It was already 7:50 in the afternoon, and you had little over an hour before you had to be there. You flicked on the lights, and unzipped your bag. You were to wear a silky black dress with a low cut V, a slit down the side to reveal one of your legs and a skirt that fell elegantly to the floor, more than long enough to cover up the knife which will be strapped to your thigh. You spent almost all your time on making your hair and makeup look perfect, giving yourself just under 10 minutes to pull on the dress and a pair of strappy black heels. You lost your shit trying to reach the zipper at the back of the dress, furiously pulling up your thigh holster and sliding in your sharpest knife. You stormed out of the room, racing up the stairs in those heels like a queen to bitch boy’s room. You pounded on it with a clenched fist.

‘Open up’ you yelled through the door. It opened up fast enough, to reveal Bucky standing there in a black suit, in the process of doing up his tie, filling it out perfectly with his bulging muscles, smelling like heaven. Not that he looked good or anything. Definitely not hot. Nope. Bucky sort of stumbled over himself as you brushed past him, gesturing for him to shut the door with your manicured hand. As he spun back around after shutting the door, you caught his eyes trailing over your figure, subtly wide in surprise. ‘Eyes up here boy, I thought you didn’t want to have to look at me’ you whistled, pointing with your fingers. ‘Zip me up. Quickly’ you demanded, turning around.

There was a short pause before you felt Bucky’s warm breath tickle the back of your neck as his cold metal fingers gently brushed against your lower back. He zipped you up carefully, taking your hair in his flesh hand and pulling it gently to the side, sending shivers up and down your spine. God his touch made your skin burn. Before he could say anything else, you reached over to grab his knife, tossing it swiftly so it missed his head by an inch, tip landing firmly in the wooden doorframe. ‘Let’s go’ you motioned with your head, leaving Bucky with his mouth open, eyes burning into your back as he watched you leave, speechless.

You arrived at the auction just in time, showing your passes to the security guards positioned either side of the grand entrance. The knife was digging into your leg, but there was nothing you could currently do about it. You and Bucky swiftly entered, observing and mapping out the area in your heads in case a quick getaway was needed. There was the main stage, with strange looking items laid out across it, including what looked like the stolen tech Nat had described to you. There was the bar, with important looking business men sat beside it ordering drinks and talking about money and sex. There were relatively few women, but those who were present were dressed to the nines. Pearls, diamonds and emeralds sparkled tauntingly from their necks and ears, with dresses that cost more than your entire wardrobe.

You pushed down the tang of jealousy you felt as you thought about how easy these people had it. They can buy anything they want, do anything they want, and be anyone they want. Pulling your thoughts back down to earth, you gently reached out a hand to Bucky’s firm shoulder, pushing slightly so he would lean down to your height. He was pretty fucking tall, after all. ‘I’ll take the bar, that prick gives me hydra vibes. You go do what your good at and be a fuckboy, and try to get something useful out of the ladies. Double tap your earpiece if you’re in danger’ you whispered into his ear, plastering on a fake ass smile to make it seem to anyone watching like you’re just sharing something wonderful with your husband. Being so close to him made you feel all warm and tingly, and it made you slightly nervous. Little did you know, as much as Bucky had an affect on you, he was affected by you just as much if not even more.

You both went in opposite directions. Rubbing your hand up the suspicious looking man’s arm, you turned on your flirty charm and began working. ‘What’s a handsome man like you doing without a girl on your arm’ you drawled, noticing the man gesture quickly with a nod of his head for the man beside him to kindly fuck off. You sat down on the barstool, moving your hand to play with your hair. Men fell for that shit every time. ‘Waiting for someone like you’ the man flirted back, leaning in slightly making you want to cringe. ‘Oh please, I bet every women in here has gone up to you already, Mr...’ you trailed off, trying the most basic trick to getting a name. ‘Please darling, call me Eric’ he replied quickly, eagerly. ‘Let me buy you a drink. A body like yours should be treated with the upmost respect’ he spoke, as more off a demand than a question. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat at the mention of your body, internally screaming at how little respect he seemed to have for women.

As the man turned to the bartender, you quickly spun your head around to try and look for Bucky. Mother fucker had 3 girls all over him. What do you care though, your not actually married and he can do whatever he wants. If the bitch boy wants to fuck them, who cares? Not you, that’s for sure. You keep telling yourself that. You shook your head, turning your attention to the man who was now holding 2 glasses of rosé. You actually really loved rosé, so at least the drink might be nice. As he tapped his glass against yours to produce a satisfying clink, you brought the thin glass to your painted lips. The rosé was delicious and you hummed contently, but there was a slightly salty taste to it. Must be an older brand. You drank and talked with the man for a few more minutes, asking him about his job and his family. You thought you were getting somewhere valuable when you suddenly felt your head start to spin. What the fuck. You knew you were a lightweight, but not like this. You felt your mouth go dry as you looked up at the man. The bitch was smiling.

‘W...what did you do to me?’ you slurred, feeling your mind cloud and your muscles weaken with every passing second. ‘It’s ok gorgeous, it will wear of when I’m done with you. Let’s take you somewhere more private, hm? the man’s voice echoed in your ear as he gripped you roughly by the waist and started moving with you by his side to the door. That’s going to bruise. You tried to move your arm to press your earpiece signalling Bucky for help, but your arm felt weird and tired, and you couldn’t bring yourself to lift it up that high. Instead, you opted for trying to reach for your knife but the man who was sat beside the other previously caught your wrist aggressively and smirked, the 2 men sharing a god awful look. It made you want to crawl inside your skin and die. It was at that moment that it dawned upon you what exactly they wanted to do with you, with your body. You had to escape, except you couldn’t. It was too late. You were outnumbered and could feel your consciousness slipping. You don’t remember much beyond that point. A gun branded with the hydra symbol. An explosion. The taste of blood in your mouth. Cold metal on your shoulder. Shouting, screaming, crying. Black.

———————————(<>)——————————

Your eyes shot open, a head splitting migraine crushing your skull. What the fuck happened, and where the fuck were you? You felt something warm behind you, holding you close and breathing slowly. It smelt heavenly. You took a moment, taking a few slow, deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down. You pulled the blanket off of your body to reveal a human arm curled securely around your waist, your dress still hugging your body, but the knife was gone. Your mind was still foggy, and you were confused as to why a man’s arm was grasping you. Something snapped in you as some memory of what those men tried to do came back to you, and you felt tears blur your already clouded vision.

Pulling the arm off, you pushed yourself up slowly, turning to look at what was beside you. Your eyes softened when you saw who it was. Bucky was lying beside you in the bed in the original suit, still wearing his suit and loosened tie. He looked so beautiful and peaceful like this. Your look quickly turned to one of concern as you noticed his suit was covered in fresh blood, a few cuts and grazes sprinkled across his handsome face. Your gut twisted and you felt sick as you felt the pain which Bucky must have felt receiving those. Fucking empathy. You reached out mindlessly to run your finger over one of the deeper cuts, but a metal arm flew to catch your wrist in an instant, his eyes shooting open.

‘Oh my god you’re up, you scared me y/n’ he said as his face instantly relaxed and he moved his arm from your wrist to your cheek, brushing away a tear you hadn’t noticed had fallen. ‘What the fuck happened Bucky?’ you asked, hand moving to your head in pain. ‘Shit does it hurt? Are you ok? How do you feel?’ he tried to ask but you wanted answers. Why was he being so nice? You softly batted away his arm and turned to face him in the bed. He sat up. ‘What happened, Bucky’ you asked, sternly this time.

‘Those hydra fuckers must have drugged you or something. I saw them trying to touch you, carrying you out of the room, you looked like you were dead, y/n. I set of a small explosion, nothing dangerous, just enough to get all the civilians shitting their pants and running out, but the building started to collapse. When I got to you they tried to shoot me, the gunshots went of right by your ear. Might explain the headache. I got you out though, thank the gods’ he explained, genuine concern in his eyes.

‘Where are they now?’ you asked trying to get out of bed but feeling another wave of dizziness hit you like a truck. You sat down. Bucky looked down and twiddled your knife between his fingers. ‘Dead’ he replied softly. ‘I killed most of them. I couldn’t get the one who spiked your drink. The blood isn’t mine’. Your hand flew to your mouth automatically. Obviously you had killed before, it wasn’t the death that shocked you. It was the fact he had risked his life like that just to save someone he claimed to hate so much.

‘Why?’ you blurted out, reaching out a hand to tilt his head up gently to look at you. Your heart was skipping every other beat. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if something would have happened to you, y/n’ he replied simply, eyes lingering on your lips as yours lingered on his. ‘They were going to...’ you whispered, before Bucky reached a flesh hand out to cup the side of your face, quickly whispering back ‘I know doll, I know. I was never going to let them do that to you’. ‘But I thought you hated me?’ you sighed, watching conflicting emotions dance in his eyes. You didn’t notice how you held your breath, or how dry your throat was, or how your headache seemingly disappears as your lips finally brushed against the winter soldier’s when he pulled you in, answering your question.

It was so gently, his metal hand sliding down to your waist and pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your hands around his neck as you moved to straddle his lap, feeling his tongue swipe your bottom lip. You opened your mouth to let him in, moaning gently at the feeling of your tongue brushing against his. You kissed him with passion, and he kissed you with longing, both emotions mixing together and causing a comforting warmth to spread all over your body. He pulled away. You frowned. ‘Why’d you stop?’ Bucky laughed lightly and you felt the vibrations from his voice travel through you pleasantly. ‘We still have work to do’ he replied simply, pulling that dazzling smile of his you so rarely saw. ‘I still hate you Bucky’ you mumbled in annoyance.

He lifted you of him with ease, holding you up kindly and making sure you could stand on your own. You wobbled a bit on those 4 inch fucking heels he hadn’t bothered to remove from your feet, but gained your balance and reached for your knife that lay dangerously on the bed. Bucky began to walk to the door. ‘Wait...we aren’t gonna talk about...’ you didn’t finish your sentence, as Bucky had turned around and interrupted smugly ‘about you wanting to fuck me? Later doll, we have shit to do now’. It was his turn to leave, and your turn to watch him walk out. ‘Fucking wanker’ you muttered under your breath as you followed. ‘I heard that’ he shouted from outside the room. It was time to kill the fucker who dared to drug you.

#bucky barnes #fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes imagine #smut #bucky x reader #avengers fanfiction #hydra #captain america #the winter soldier #marvel angst #black widow #tony stark

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crescentsteel · 3 years

Text

When in Brazil - Beach

pairing: Oikawa x f!reader genre: SMUT wc: 7.8k (i am deceast bye) warnings: fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, edging

Let me bore you to death zzz

I promise the last chapter will be exciting (in my head it is at least) :(

Prior to this series, I have zero knowledge about Brazil. So if there's anything sus somewhere there as I describe Rio, pls be kind to me.

No beta for this one once again uwu

Lmk if you wanna be part of taglist

Sunshine || masterlist

In the hustle and bustle of a busy city as Rio de Janeiro, one finds themselves having their time stolen away from them as they get swept up in all the craziness the place has to offer.

That’s you, except the craziness is in the form of a never ending cycle of wake up, work, then go home.

You’re just glad a certain orange-haired boy joins you from time to time to ease your thirst for something exciting.

Yet sometimes, you crave the silence, the quiet, to be alone and actually enjoy it. Living in one of the most tourist-infested places in the world, you rarely find yourself in such a situation.

That’s why you dragged your feet outside even if your clock tells you it’s 2:48 in the morning.

You woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep. Rather than waste your time away in bed, you grab a can of beer from your fridge and decide to make the most out of it.

The thing about Rio — it’s almost never silent. Even at this time, you can hear the soft beat of music from the local bars and clubs alongside the sound of the sea right across the streets where they’re located. The shores of Copacabana, being the most famous beach in the city, are never empty as well.

But what good is being a local if you don’t know places you can hide from the crowd?

A tad bit more than kilometer away from Copacabana is Posto 1 in Praio de Leme, a beach not as crowded as the others.

With the absence of people flocking here and there, you easily make your way to the beach, almost prancing on your steps for the slight tang of freedom and muted noise you haven’t had in forever.

Despite the stroll being an all-familiar route you take, it feels blissfully different. And when you arrive at Posto 1, you suddenly feel grateful for living in Rio. You take your slippers off and feel the sand beneath the soles of your feet. The smell of salt water permeates the air while you welcome the dainty breeze brought by the sea.

You savor each step, taking your time to reach a certain spot you consider yours as the darkness of the dims the bright liveliness of the city.

Luck must be in your side as you find the place still as you remember it the last time you went there. Trees surround the area abundantly compared to the more famous beaches in the city.

Lifeguard stations that separate the area covered by each beach look like mini lighthouses made of white stone. Posto 1, being the first station, is situated beside rocky shore that signals the other end of the beach.

In between Posto 1 and the clump of rocks, that’s your secret spot. The station blocks the view of the rest of the shoreline, the trees behind you conceal you from the buildings across the street, and the rocks perfectly completes the set up as it eludes you to think that you’re hidden from the tropical urban jungle that is Rio.

You pick a spot near a tree so you can lean on something when you sit down. You unknot the canga on your hip and sprawl it on the sand. You seat yourself comfortably and cross your stretched legs. You open your can of beer and savor the first taste as you stare in the vast darkness

You don’t know how long you’ll stay there, but you don’t care. You have the day off tomorrow and you don’t mind if you’re there long enough that the sun will rise on you.

Damn. You should’ve brought at least two cans of beer for this.

However, your paradise of being alone was quickly interrupted when you hear coarse footsteps approaching somewhere behind you. Shortly after, a figure emerges from the trees, much to your displeasure.

He notices your presence too as he looks your way as soon as he comes to your view.

“Hi!” The stranger greets you all too friendly, which adds to your irritation. You haven’t even enjoyed your time alone and you’re already disrupted. What’s worse is that it’s not even a local. It’s a freaking tourist, probably Japanese based on his features.

“Sorry, but the beach is closed at this time,” you announce in an amicable manner despite being annoyed, something working on a diner has instilled in you for years.

“Oh? But you’re here,” he responds with an easy-going smile that pisses you off even more. You should’ve spoken in Portugese. Maybe then, he would’ve left you alone. “Yeah. It’s not open for tourists at night,” you lie with a fake smile, still hoping that he’ll leave.

However, he does the opposite. He crosses the few steps away from you and crouches to get to your eye level. You stare at his face for a few seconds and realize that he’s actually attractive — brown hair, brown eyes, and a dazzling smile.

Still, you came here to be alone. You don’t want the company of another, no matter how good looking they are.

“Can’t you make an exception for one tourist?” He flashes you a grin that you’re pretty sure would sway a lot of women when directed at them. Maybe you too on a different night. But not this one.

“I’d be honest, mr tourist. I prefer to be alone. If you go past that station, you’ll find a lot of space for yourself.”

He purses his lips. “But it seems more fun here, ms local.”

How is this place fun? There’s literally nothing here. That’s why you claimed this place for your own because people rarely go here when the night deepens.

He’s most likely looking for someone to bother and entertain himself, as expected of tourists.

You sigh when you realize he’ll probably keep pestering you until you give in. You take one sip of your beer and turn to him.

“You better hold one hell of a conversation, tourist. Or else I’ll be the one leaving,” you announce with a deadpan voice.

He chuckles lightly before sitting on the sand. He extends one leg on the side while he bends up the other so he can rest his elbow on his knee. “I’m sure I can manage,” he declares with unshakeable confidence that makes you scoff a bit.

The guy is full of himself. If he wasn’t very pleasing to look at, you would’ve left already.

You return your gaze to the dark waters to distract yourself from his presence. “I’d offer you a beer, but I only brought one.” You say out of courtesy as you lean back to the tree and try to relax despite the stranger beside you.

“I won’t mind sharing yours,” he responds casually.

You take one more sip and face his direction to hand him the drink in your hand. He grabs it with a smile and a wink that would’ve made you cringe if he didn’t look so damn good when he did it.

He puts the drink on his mouth and nips it casually. “So what’s a pretty local doing at the shore at this hour?”

You raise an eyebrow at the subtle flattery he included in his question. “Like I said, I wanted some time alone. Unfortunately for me though, a very rude tourist arrived a few minutes after I just settled down,” you eye him meaningfully which earns you a pout from him.

You almost want to laugh. What is up with this guy? He’s a bit weird, but in a charming kind of way. “What about you, tourist? What’re you doing out this late at night?”

“Jetlag. Our hotel’s just across the street and the people I’m with are already tired. I’m so bored,” he whines as he drinks again from your can before he hands it to you.

“So you decided to take a stroll in a completely foreign city?”

He feigns a surprised look. “Are you a fortune teller?”

“A witch, actually. Better leave now before I curse you,” you warn him with a straight face.

Not even fazed a bit, he meets your dead eyes with affable ones. “I don’t mind being cursed by you, ms. witch.”

You shrug off your shoulders, unaffected by the flattery. You’re used to it with the amount of foreigners hitting on you during tourist season. “You better decide what you’ll call me then,” you respond coldly.

“You really want to keep being strangers, huh?”

Something surfaces in his orbs that unnerves you, a glint that tells you there’s more to this man behind the pompous persona he’s purposely showing you.

“Uh-huh. Ms. local sounds fine to me.” Not that he seems dangerous or anything, but you don’t want to get to know him. You’d like to remain as strangers. This is just a small chat for you both to pass time. There’s no need for names when you already have a way to address each other.

“Alright then, ms local. Lets play a game.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What game?”

“A guessing game. The person who first gets three correct guesses about the other wins.”

“What does the winner get?” You ask with intrigue.

“Anything they want.”

You tap the can of beer dangling from your fingertips while you study him. What can he possibly ask of you if he wins? He looks friendly, but you can’t be too certain. He might ask for something like your number. You have no intentions of giving it to him and getting involved with a tourist. The most you can get from the is a one night stand and a “thank you for the experience” message, as if fucking a local completes their whole Rio trip.

He suddenly laughs. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask for anything weird. I just want the tree you’re leaning at.”

You frown at him. “Seriously? There’s another tree over there.” You point a tree a few steps away from him.

“I want that one specifically,” he says firmly as he ignores where you’re looking at and eyes the trunk you’re leaning on.

“Okay then, tourist. If I win, will you leave?”

“Deal” he quickly agrees. “Go ahead, ms local. Ladies first.”

Without even thinking, you make your first guess. “You’re probably a model or an actor in Japan.”

He breaks into a wide smile at your hunch, which doesn’t tell you anything whether you were right or wrong. “You really think so?”

Did you get it wrong? He seems like someone who has a nightly skin care routine to make sure he doesn’t have any breakouts. His skin looks nicer than yours too. So it makes sense for him to be either of the two.

You don’t tell him that though. He looks like he’s well aware that he’s a pretty boy.

“I mean you do look nice. You’re tall and stuff,” you justify briefly.

He gives out a pleasant laugh that sounds way too rehearsed, like he’s been practicing it in case someone compliments him.

“I’m flattered, but no. Sorry!”

He doesn’t look sorry at all. “Actually, I’m a starter for a pro Volleyball team in Argentina,” he says with his face becoming a little bit more serious as it oozes with pride. You find it interesting — how he glorifies being an athlete. He does have the build for it, but he’s kinda too pretty to be a professional athlete.

Your thoughts suddenly go back to Shoyo now that he mentioned the sport.

“Oh oh oh wait,” your enthusiasm shoots up when a hilarious assumption hits you. “I’ll go again then you’ll get two turns after this,” you clear your throat before voicing out your thoughts.

“Let me guess. You traveled all the way from Japan to Argentina to pursue Volleyball,” you declare with all smiles despite how ridiculous it might have seemed to him. You could waste one guess to entertain yourself.

He stares at you wide-eyed with disbelief. “How did you know that?”

You gape at him in surprise. You were just goofing around with Shoyo’s story. You don’t expect that he’d have a similar story.

“For real?”

He nods. “Yeah. That was frighteningly accurate.”

Wow. What were the chances that you were actually right? What was just a ridiculous hunch was actually on point. Now, you’re far more entertained. You’ll ask for his name before you part ways and tell Shoyo about him. You don’t have a clue what the Volleyball scene is like in Japan so maybe somehow, they know each other.

He recovers after a quick while and regains his composure. “Okay, my turn. I’m guessing…,” he looks up as he scurries what guess he’ll make before his gaze lands back to you, “you’re into nice guys.”

You let out a scoff at his too safe of a guess. He must be frolicking when he appears to be thinking earlier because that’s kind of a no-brainer.

“Who isn’t?” You ask back sarcastically instead of confirming that he’s right.

“A lot of women actually,” he swiftly responds. “So that’s one for me. And I’m also guessing you don’t go out much.” This time he doesn’t pretend to be thinking and straight up tells you, as if he’s figured it out already earlier.

You squint at him. “How did you know?”

“You wouldn’t be out here at this time of the night if you did,” he cocks an eyebrow as he answers.

Shit. That’s two correct guesses off the bat. The stakes are not that high for you. You’ll just lose a back rest, but it unnerves you that he’s this astute. You just assumed that he’s nothing but good looks.

You put a little more effort to the game he initiated and thought of a hunch that’s very likely to be correct.

“Umm. I think you like beer,” you surmise. If he didn’t mind sharing one with a stranger, he must like it enough.

He purses his lips to the side and shakes his head. “Nope. I think it’s vile. Also, our fitness coach will chew me out if he finds out I’m drinking tonight.”

You furrow your brows together at what he just admitted. “Then why’d you ask for mine?”

“I wanted to look cool,” he confesses without shame which makes you palm your face.

“My turn.” You remove your hands away from your face and hope that he gets it wrong this time. You’re kinda enjoying the game and want to continue for a tiny bit more.

“It’s been a while since you got laid.”

It’s a staring contest between you after he utters it. He holds the same seemingly good-natured expression in his face despite the sexual nature of his statement. You, on the other hand, can’t suppress the frisky smirk that’s creeping up on the corner of your lips.

You roll your eyes and look away with the smirk still planted on your face.

He finally bares that certain wickedness you saw a glimpse of earlier, and he does it at the right time. He’s probably waiting for the moment you start getting drawn to him, and when you do, he lures you a step deeper into his trap.

You feel stupid for thinking this game is his way of small talk. It definitely isn’t. Yet, you find yourself taking the bait he set.

“Actually, I had a good fuck the other night,” you answer indifferently.

The look that surfaces on his face mirrors yours a while ago, except he doesn’t try to hide the sensual gleam in his eyes when flashes you a grin.

“Boyfriend?”

You suddenly miss the bitter taste of the beer so you drink again prior to answering, “Friend.”

The curve of his lips twitch up, evidently amused with your reply. “I didn’t think you were the type, ms local.”

“Why? You thought I was boring?” You question with haughty disdain from what he was implying.

He stretches his bent knee as he plants both palms on the sand and leans back a bit. “No. Just really uptight.”

Only because his company was unwelcomed, but you’re positive he’s aware of that so you don’t comment on his remark. You move on with and proceed to make your guess.

“Right. Okay, my turn.”

You’re absolutely sure of this one, so you go for it without hesitation.

“I think you’re trying to get me in bed.”

Oikawa doesn’t know if he’s going to give you a free pass on that one. You’re not entirely wrong, but you’re not totally right either.

He does want to fuck you. You’re hot and you’re as interesting as he thought you’d be. But he’s not trying to get you in bed, not yet at least. He hasn’t taken any action yet.

He was still treading carefully until you were no longer treating him like a bothersome stranger, which seems to be the case when you unfiltered your words and then willingly gave him intimate information about your sex life.

“Yeah,” he says with no hint of shame. He decides to grant you a second correct answer since that’s the last one you’re going to get. His next guess will be the start of his attempt to actually get you to have sex with him, like you speculated.

“You like beer.” He already had three probable guesses in his head before the game even started. He just panned the game longer so you’ll ease into him. He reserved this particular guess to seal the deal.

“That’s no fair, tourist. That’s too obvious,” you complain yet you still wear an entertained grin.

“Not my fault” He chuckles at his already calculated victory.

“Ugh. Fine. The damn tree is yours.” You start to get up but he grabs your arm, causing you to frown inquisitively at him.

“I didn’t say you have to leave. Move a bit to your front,” he commands which you do even though you still look confused.

He stands up and takes the place you’re sitting at earlier. Your neck is craned towards him as you gawk at him while he comfortably seats himself behind you, stretching his legs just a bit so you’re positioned intimately between them.

“What are you doing?!” you ask with a panicked voice.

He ignores your question. He takes it just a bit further and grabs your waist to pull you closer to him so your back is pressed to his chest.

You gape at him with a scandalized expression, your body rigid with his touch.

He only smiles innocently at you. You might be frozen solid, but if you really don’t want him to, you could easily tell him to fuck off. But there you are, eyes wide open as you try to grasp what he just did.

“I just claimed my prize. I can see why you chose this tree. So comfortable.” He tries to sound nice and friendly, but knows it’s useless as he can’t help the sarcasm that tainted his words now.

You let out a deep breath and shake your head as you rest your back resignedly on his chest. You snuggle even closer until you fill the spaces between you two perfectly, your head nestled comfortably on the nook of his neck.

Still, you don’t seem pleased. The look in your face is a mix of frustration and defeat, but it only strokes his ego even more because despite that displeasure on that lovely face of yours, you’re still leaning cozily against him.

You straight down gulp the remaining liquor you have and put the empty can down on the sand.

“You played me well, tourist,” you mutter, the bitter taste of the beer matching your resentment towards him.

“Not sure what you’re talking about, ms local,” he continues playing innocent.

“Oh please. You planned this from the start. That’s why you asked for the fucking tree.”

He lets out the laugh he’s been holding in since you made him admit that he was trying to bed you. “You finally caught up, mi querida?”

You hoist yourself up to face him. “You speak Portugese?” you ask him curiously.

“Español. I did say I’m from Argentina, mi bella dama.”

You’re stunned with the way the supposed foreign words roll off so naturally from his tongue. It didn’t sound pretentious nor forced, proof that he’s fluent with it. You definitely underestimated him. There is so much more to his charisma than just his pretty face.

“So, ms local,” his gaze drops to your lips with uninhibited hunger that he doesn’t make the slightest effort to hide. “Can I start claiming my actual prize now?”

You open your mouth but no words come out. You don't know how to respond because you’re at war with yourself with the direction of your supposed small talk is heading to. Yet, you can’t deny that you want to reciprocate his overt desire for you.

He takes his thumb and skims it lightly over your lower lip as he keeps his eyes on it. “Say yes,” he orders you with the softest voice you’ve ever heard from him.

The wind suddenly feels colder as your body heats up from the ache that’s beginning to set in your core.

He completely has you in a trance, mindlessly obeying his dainty command.

“Yes.”

He smiles darkly at the consent you gave him. He moves his thumb down to your before he slowly dips down and presses his lips against yours. It was gentle, too gentle for your growing arousal as he’s deliberately teasing you to want more of him.

He peppers your cheek with the same soft kisses that are making you more and more impatient.

“Kiss me already,” you mutter when his lips reach your ear, causing the sound of his amused chuckle to be heard crisp and loud.

“But I am,” he whispers before licking the sensitive shell of your ear.

You snap your thighs together from the sharp pleasure the action sent to your pussy, your eyes almost half closed from how fast your desire is engulfing you.

He must have sensed it for he turns his gaze to your clenched thighs. “Well, well, well, ms local. I didn’t think you’re this sensitive. I’m barely doing anything,” he teases while his other hand skims your bare waist.

You want to wipe the smug expression off his face but you’re too horny to fight back. You just want him to kiss you properly already.

A triumphant glint surfaces in his orbs as he dips down and gives you what you’re silently asking for. He parts your mouth with his thumb on your chin and claims your lips, flicking his tongue on your lower lip before sucking it.

You grab his shoulder for support as you push yourself up a bit to feel him closer.

“Mmmm, beer tastes way better from your mouth,” he mumbles then quickly returns to your lips, slipping in his tongue as he deepens the kiss.

His hand on your chin travels to the side of your head, fiddling the other ear his mouth hasn’t touched earlier. You whine into the kiss, fully revealing to him how sensitive your ears are.

His other hand skims the bare skin of your waist he easily accessed because of your cropped top. Then, he moves it up to squeeze a clothed boob, earning him a moan you deliciously deliver to his mouth.

He pulls away to get a glimpse of you and he can’t help but be pleased with himself for a job well done. He’s totally got you, hook, line, and sinker with your eyes pooling with lewd desires, completely different from the cranky stranger you were minutes ago.

But he’s not done yet. He’s not yet satisfied. He can do more than this. He can break you just a teeny tiny bit tonight.

He gets back to your lips, your tongue seeking his while he fervently moves his mouth against yours. His hand lets go of your face so he can pay attention to your other boob he’s been neglecting, kneading both supple mounds with his huge hands at the same time.

You lean your head on his shoulder as he trails his lips down your exquisite neck, softly nipping the delicate flesh as he entertains himself by watching you squirm within his hold.

He lugs your bra down so he could feel your bare breasts, and as his idea of fun, he softly bites the nook of your neck while he harshly grips both tits.

A very indecent moan from your throat erupts in the tranquil air of the beach. You must have realized it too because you bite your lip while your other hand tightens its grip on his thigh.

“Let’s see how well you can keep it down,” he breathes on your neck as he puts his fingers to work, rolling both your nipples with his thumbs while licking the spot he just bit.

You plan to protest, but you’re scared that when you open your mouth, an obscene moan will come out instead. So you do your best to stay as silent as you can, your muted whimpering reaching only his ears.

His mouth goes back up again to your ear, his hot breath gradually melting your resolve to keep quiet. “Should I lick your ear again so you’ll moan for me, hmm?”

You ferociously shake your head, certain that you will lose it if he does. “I’ll do it if you don’t use your words,” he threatens you by grazing his lips on your earlobes.

“N-no,” you weakly answer.

He laughs lowly and withdraws his lips away from your ear. You feel a little bit of relief as he shows mercy. Only to feel stupid when he suddenly pinches your nipples, the surge of pain and delight causing you to lose to your own body as another moan rips out of your windpipe.

“Aahh! ”

You bury your face on his biceps to muffle the next ones as he continues tweaking the hardened buds while he sucks the curve of your shoulders.

You can feel the strain in your hips from how hard you're clamping your thighs, desperate to alleviate the ache in your already sopping cunt by grinding your inner thighs together.

Being the scum the tourist is, he hooks his foot on your ankle and does the same to the other, successfully prying your legs apart, worsening your need to be touched down from the lack of any sort of friction.

He removes one hand away from a boob and drags it down to your stomach, the cloth of your loose shirt catching on his knuckles before it comes to a stop in the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I?” He asks while he traces circles on the skin just above the garter of your cloth.

Despite the overwhelming lust, you look around. Even though you used to have this place on your own at this wee hours of night, the possibility of someone going there is not completely zero.

You let him get as far as this because you can just swat his hands away the moment someone emerges from the other side of the lifeguard station.

Instead of putting his hand in, he dips his hand further down on your crotch, cupping your sex over the fabric of your shorts. Even with just that, your pussy is already throbbing.

You look at him with hesitation.

“What if someone comes?” You ask apprehensively, your lust-induced mind hoping he comes up with a sensical answer that you can accept.

“I won’t remove your shorts, ms. local. I’ll just,” he teasingly tugs the waistband, twisting it around his index finger, “put my hand in, yeah?”

He gives a drawn out lick on the spot behind your ear as he tugs a nipple, making you shiver with the unspoken oath that he can satisfy your needs.

You nod agreeably, impatient for the touch you’ve been craving for.

With your permission, he slowly slides his hand in, the leisure drag of his fingers almost making you mad with anticipation. Your torment only increases when he steadily traces his middle and ring finger on the length of your slit.

“You’re practically dripping,” he remarks as he continues the tortuous caress of his fingers. “Holy shit. You’re twitching already.” He laughs sardonically behind you.

“Jerk.” It’s supposed to sound angry, but it comes out as a needy whine.

You throw your head back on his chest, the night sky and the leaves of the tree you’re under starting to become hazy with how feverish your whole body feels.

“You’re really mean, you know that?” He mopes flatulently before he suddenly pinches your clit, the abrupt pang of pleasure causing you to arch your back as you cry out.

“Oh my. I’m starting to think you actually want to be heard.”

You’re no longer able to respond when he starts rubbing the bundle of nerves, covering your mouth with the back of your hand to suppress the erotic sounds coming off of your mouth.

“Mmmmmpp,” you whimper when he gives your boob a firm squeeze again.

You close your eyes shut as you feel your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Gonna cum already, hmm?” His question drenched with mockery.

Yet, you don’t give in to his taunt as you’re completely distracted with his fingers sending you to a frenzy. You nod your head frantically, shamelessly admitting that he can easily make you cum.

Then he stops. He slides his fingers down and spreads your folds open as your cunt throbs from the climax he’s defied you of.

“What I’d give to see this view,” he purrs on your ear, “this pussy twitching at nothing.”

You hate the way he’s treating you, but you hate yourself more for letting him do so. As if teasing wasn’t enough already, he starts massaging his fingers around your folds, keeping you spread open while deliberately avoiding any spot that will feel too good.

It’s utter hell for you.

You’re about to ask that he puts it in, but thankfully, he does so before you almost disregard your dignity and actually plead for him to do it. He inserts one steady digit, pushing it deeply until the whole length of his finger is in.

“You’re too wet,” he comments as he thrusts another finger in.

You bite your own hand as the stretch of his two fingers brings back the pleasure he thwarted earlier. But this time, he makes sure to not let it escalate as he keeps the speed of his fingers to a bare minimum. He drags them out incredibly slow and lunges them back in in the same excruciating tempo.

Your eyes flutter shut as you relish the sensation, his digits hitting their deepest reach at the same time the waves crash into the rocks of Leme beach.

Oikawa watches with utter fascination, seeing and feeling the rise and fall of your chest as he prolongs the pleasure his fingers can give you.

But he already misses how you sound when you lose control.

Without any warning, he increases his pace from tedious thrusts to ruthless ones.

Your clutch on his biceps almost hurts, but he really couldn’t give a shit when your moans start to seep out of your hand despite how hard you try to contain them. He can bet you’re not even aware that you’re already rolling your hips against his hand.

But it’s still not enough for him.

Luckily, he knows how to make things even better .

He flicks his tongue on a certain spot on your neck while rolling your nipple between his skilled fingers.

“Too much!” You bat your eyes open and face him, successfully unlatching his mouth from your neck. “Its too muuu aahhhh haaa. ” Your eyes instantly become cloudy as he makes sure that the base of his wrist rubs your clit while he continues ravaging your pussy with his fingers.

His cock is getting stuffed in his shorts with your back grinding against it as he witnesses you lose yourself with your mouth falling open as you whimper with wanton need for your release.

“To- hnnngg, tooouurist.”

Damn. For a moment, he thought you were going to moan his name. He would tell you right now but he kinda likes the idea that you’re a literal stranger allowing him to do vulgar things to you as he pleases.

Your feet leave the seams of the cloth you sat on as the pleasure stretches out to the tips of your toes, the coarse grains of sand getting stuck between as you curl them with your orgasm tingling too close.

The simultaneous stimulation of your most erogenous places is coercing you to let go.

“I’m gonna cum mmmppp.”

Then he withdraws his fingers completely, causing you to regard him wide-eyed with a confused look as he denies you of your high that was a thrust away from your reach. All the while, he just smiles pleasantly at you like he didn’t do anything wrong.

He takes his middle finger in his mouth while you watch him with both impatience and intrigue.

He gives it one thorough suck before sticks his tongue out and licks it, effectively making you wonder how it’d feel if he does what he just did directly on your pussy.

Then he turns to you with a naughty grin. “Why are you staring at me like that, ms local?”

Your eyes lingers on his fingers and tells him instead, “Put them back.” You can’t ask him to do what was just on your mind. The place isn’t right for it. But that’s just fine. His fingers prove to be good enough.

“You want me to put my fingers back in your pussy?” he reiterates your request haughtily.

You look down on the sand before you nod.

He hums on your nape while he inserts his hands back in your shorts, his fingers ghosting just above your slit. You buck your hip up to feel them but he retreats them when you do so.

Your mind is staggering from how much you want him to fill you up again with his digits. You look at him with your eyes begging him.

“Please,” you whimper.

He goes for your lips, kissing them passionately as he traces your slick opening. He plunges his tongue in the same time his fingers enter your cunt, easily pushing you at the very edge you were at earlier.

Then stops again.

“Why?” You sound almost sulking, your foiled orgasm looming over you.

“Like you said earlier, ms local. I am trying to get you in bed.”

He presses his lips in your temples and drags them down back to your ear. “I don’t see any bed here. Do you?”

The sultry drawl of his voice makes you shiver, the ungratified ache in your groin making you succumb to him.

“My place is near,” you answer timidly.

“You’ll really take a stranger home?” He sneers at you, making you doubt your own decision. Yet, convinces you otherwise when he slowly rubs your clit again.

You shut your eyes and nod frantically with parted lips.

He takes his hands out of your shorts and cheerfully says. “Let’s go then.”

You fix your clothes before standing up to which he quickly follows. You take your canga and wrap it back again on your hips then picks up your empty can of beer. You plan to lead the way, but not even three steps away from where you were, he grabs your wrist and tugs you back to where you were.

He shoves you to the tree he was previously leaning on. Your hand flies to the trunk of it while he wraps one arm around your waist and pulls your ass against his erection, an entertained chuckle coming out of his lips.

“I lied, ms local.” He slides his other hand under your made up skirt, trailing his palm from the side of your knee up to your thigh.

“I didn’t want you in bed. I want you right here right now.”

He briskly tugs down your shorts while you worriedly grip his forearm, alarm evident in your orbs as he reveals his actual intention.

“We’re gonna get seen!” You warn with a cautious whisper while you look around to check for the possible presence of another.

He ignores you and hitches up the cloth hanging from your hips as he takes out his cock and traces it against your moist slit.

You drop the empty can as you drive your nails deeper in the tree with your eyes getting misty from the reminder of the little death he’s relentlessly and purposely deprived you of.

He leans over your back and reaches for your cheek with his lips, tenderly placing a kiss before speaking. “Then they’ll see a tourist with a local whore.”

Flames of fury spark in your eyes as you hiss at him. “You fucking asshole!”

He ignores your futile anger and grips his cock to align it on your entrance. He sees you try to keep up the resentful facade but you’re twitching wildly again for him to even take it seriously. He easily makes you crave for him again by grinding his shaft on the length of your cunt.

“I’m kidding, ms local. You’re too pretty and too interesting to be one,” he says with his lips latched on your shoulder.

“Do you even have a condom with you?” you ask exasperatedly.

“Nope. Should we stop and get one?” He asks back as he once again rubs his member on your opening.

“I.. uhh,” you mumble undecided even though you unknowingly just grinded against him.

He places featherlight kisses along your nape. “I promise to pull out. How about that?” His voice is delicate, persuading you to abandon your hesitation.

“Fine! Just make sure you do it right,” you firmly forewarn him, which he doesn’t even bother answering.

He begins to sink himself inside you, feeling your fluttering walls swallow his cock inch by inch.

“Shit, it’s so hot and tight inside you,” he groans.

Your knees buckle a bit as you cover your mouth with your palm this time. “You okay there?” he asks not out of concern but because he wants to entertain himself with how you sound when you’re trying so hard to keep the obscene sounds at bay.

You shake your head but your face is one deluged of sinful desires.

“But you look like you're enjoying this,” he pants as he’s starting to feel good too with how well you’re squeezing his cock. He closes his eyes and rests his cheek on the back of your shoulder as he rams his length completely inside you.

“Fuccck,” he moans on your shirt while you deliver a muffled one on your palm, which he didn’t like.

He snakes his arm from your waist up to your chest once again, forcefully lugging down your bra that he hears it rip a little.

“I want to hear you feel good,” he says as he toys with your boob he wasn’t able to pay much attention to earlier.

In between struggling puffs, you manage to say, “I don’t wanna be heard uughhh.” You let out a suppressed whine as he pulls his cock back all of a sudden and languidly slides it back in.

“You’re lucky enough I’m allowing this,” you continue on.

“Make me luckier then,” he hums on your shoulder as he aggressively tugs the nipple poking at his palm.

“Gaaah!” You snap your head back, prompting him to softly bite the flesh of your throat you exposed to him.

“Yeaaah. You sound so hot, ms local. Just like that mmmm.” He originally planned to take his time with you, but shit, your pussy feels too good clamping on his cock like you’re already about to cum.

It’s taking all of him not to pummel his cock stupidly fast into you and sought his own pleasure.

“Faster, tourist. Fuck!” Your voice cracks at the last word you uttered from keeping it from being too loud.

Instead of quickening his pace, he stops moving at all. He needs a moment to regain control of himself despite how splendid your insides feel. He wants to tease you some more until you lose that fiery pride of yours. He finds it sexy, but it would be sexier if you drop it and desperately beg for him to fuck your brains out.

He lifts himself off your back and retrieves both his hands to skim them over the curve of your ass.

He kinda wonders what face you’ll make if slams one hand against the meaty flesh. Oh well. No need to wonder if he can just see it for himself right now.

The solid sting of his palm hitting against your skin pierces the quiet air of the shore, quickly followed by a sharp gasp from you that is just as audible.

Fuck, he put a little too much force on that one. He can see the pinkish mark he’s left on one cheek. He checks on you and expects a pained expression but what he finds is eyes lidded with intense carnal longing while panting heavily.

He looks around briefly, checking to see for any unwanted onlookers before landing another slap on your other ass cheek.

Your hand grips his that just struck you as you turn your neck to look at him with utmost desperation he’s been wanting to see from you.

“Make me cum already,” you mumble with a wavering voice as you start moving on your own, wobbly withdrawing your hips and pushing them back against his cock.

The sensation in his shaft as you use it to give yourself pleasure is nowhere near enough for him, but he continues to stare at your cute attempt to make yourself cum.

“Please!”

Ahh, fuck. Yes. That should do it. You look just the right amount of pathetic he can get himself off to with satisfaction.

He plants both hands on your hips, holding them in place so he can give you what you vehemently begged for. He buries himself inside you in one swift thrust and repeats it again, and again, and again until he sets a steady rhythm.

You wretchedly grasp the tree again to support yourself as he does his way with you.

Harsh slaps of skin to skin contact can be heard, but he figures it won’t be heard from a distance.

“Ah, ahh, aaaahhhhhh!!” You practically yelled out that last moan, causing him to lean over again and put a hand over your mouth.

“As much as I want you to- shiiit -hear you scream for me, I’d rather not be caught here,” he tells you in a raspy voice. He doesn’t know the laws in this country. He might get arrested for this if found. Their coach would probably take him off the starting roster as punishment if he gets in trouble because of this.

But fuck, you really feel unbelievably good. Even the vibrations of your stifled wails on his hand is an added stimulation for him.

Even he himself is having a hard time to keep his voice hushed as he feels his orgasm about to explode. He removes his hand away from your lips and replaces it with his mouth so he drowns out his groans as he swallows yours.

With his knee, he nudges your leg apart from the other as he dips his hand from your hip down to your clit, rubbing the swollen bud ferociously to finally push you to your peak he previously kept on declining you to reach.

You start trembling beneath him so he wraps his other arm around your waist again to support you.

He pulls away a bit to look at you become undone and holy shit, you do not disappoint. You look so fucking pretty with your moist lips gaping as you puff while your eyes have completely surrendered to the sinful goodness he’s giving you.

“So good, so good, so fucking good uuhhhh,” you mewl shamelessly.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on a stranger’s cock?” He goads you even though he’s about to cum himself just to see if you still give a crap about that.

To his delight, you just nod thoughtlessly.

“Cumming, ahhh, A-“

He covers your mouth again with his before you’re able to let out a scream that will probably expose you two.

He feels too good that all your senses are filled with nothing but the intense carnal bliss as he batters the insides of your pussy by ramming his cock wildly into you without restraint, probably chasing his own high as well.

Your vision becomes a static blur as the coil in your stomach snaps viciously, making your whole body convulse with how intense you came. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’d probably be a thrashing mess on the sand.

You hope that he keeps his word and pulls out because honestly, you just don’t have it in you anymore to stop him as he prolongs your orgasm by seeking his own.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he spews while his forehead rests on your spine as his thrusts become wilder and more erratic.

He takes out his cock a second before you feel hot spurts of liquid on your lower back accompanied by his hoarse grunts.

He unties the canga around your waist and uses it to wipe off the mess he made on your skin while you’re still holding on for your dear life on the tree.

“My legs,” you whine as they give out with exhaustion.

Thankfully, he catches you in time and releases the soiled clothing he used to wipe off his load. He pulls up your lower garments before he settles you back to how you two were seated a while ago, except it’s less compromising this time.

You’re all curled up within his grasp, still catching your breath from what just happened as he puts a hand on your forehead to make you rest against his heaving chest.

The sound of the waves, the blow of sea breeze, and the sand beneath your thighs are lulling you slowly back to the present, making you aware that you just had sex with a stranger, with a freaking tourist

“So,” he speaks first but you keep your eyes closed and pretend this is just one sexy dream then you’ll wake up in the morning and realize that you actually didn’t go out at this time.

“Ms. local, helllooooo?”

He’s obviously recovered based on the familiar, frivolous tone he had when he came out of the trees a while ago.

You sigh since you aren’t able to convince yourself enough that this is just a dream. The sex felt too good and too hot for it to be unreal.

“Do I finally get a name?”

You open your eyes and find him looking eagerly at you.

“No,” you respond immediately which visibly turns his excitement upside down.

You also discard your previous plan to get his name. There’s no way you’re telling Shoyo about this guy.

Sunshine || masterlist

Taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @aphroditeschambers @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @crescenttooru @yashuaaa @liberhoe @richkookie @hqbeesun @megatron-1199

#oikawa smut #oikawa x reader #hinata smut #hinata x reader #haikyuu smut #im done with tags

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for the meet ugly asks, 18 with the ot4? nsfw, if possible? thanks

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW.

18: we were just introduced at a party by our mutual friend and when my partner comes to join us, you freak out because you were just outside making out with them and you pull me aside to tell me

“Duck! Over here!” Aubrey waves him through the crowd, pointing to the lumberjack lookalike next to her, “this is the guy I was telling you about. Barclay’s an old friend of Dani's and, get this, he and Indrid know each other too. Wait, where is mr. mothman?” Aubrey cranes her neck.

“He had to work a late shift, but he says hi. Literally” He fumbles his phone, “fuck, sorry, first thing to go when I’ve been drinkin is my coordination.” He eventually triumphs, showing them the photo of Indrid, silver hair tied back and Void the Rat perched on the sleeve of his ‘Waffle House’ shirt. The sticker on the photo says “Hi!”

“Aww” Barclay’s voice is the epitome of gentle giant, “he always wanted a rat. I’m glad he got one.”

“Whelp, now that I got you two talking, I’m gonna go spend some ‘quality time’ with my girlfriend.”

“Just don't get caught makin’ out in a closet again.” Duck calls. Aubrey flips him off with a smile.

“So how did you and Indrid--oh, there you are babe. Thought you mighta snuck out to take a work call.”

“No, just had to de-escalate a shoving match on the back porch. I know you love Jake, but maybe next time we should just have him over rather than coming to the kind of party we outgrew in undergrad. I’m discovering I don’t enjoy being under the influence in this kind of cramped party anymore."

“Yeah, not really loving the noise. I lose my voice enough in the kitchen. Duck, this is my boyfriend, Joseph. Joseph, this is Duck, he’s a friend of Dani and Aubrey’s.”

Duck crunches his cup as his mind takes a violent spin an hour into the past.

He’d been out on the side deck getting some air and sipping his beer when a guy who looks like he walked in from the set of some splashy T.V show where everyone is hot joined him. His lips looked damn good whenever he sipped his beer and Duck did his best to turn on the southern charm. It was sort of working, until he complimented the guys button up; it was covered in drawings of cryptids--including mothman, Indrid’s favorite--and fit him in the way that made Duck want to rip the buttons off with his teeth. As soon as he demonstrated his enjoyment of listening to a hot guy talk about monsters, the taller man moved gradually closer, bumping shoulders and locking eyes with growing boldness. When Duck said the song booming out of the house was his go-to for putting the moves on someone, the other man asked to see his technique.

They spent the next three songs in the darkest corner of the porch, Duck’s back pressing into metal slats as his new friend wove his fingers into his hair and teased their tongues together with an experts touch.

When Duck breathlessly asked if he wanted to go somewhere more private, he murmured, “Only after we’ve had a chance to talk about some things.”

Then his phone buzzed and he was gone, leaving Duck horny and tipsy under the stars.

Back in the present, he does everything possible to keep from meeting Joseph’s eyes as he mumbles, “I, uh, I, I need some help with somethin in the kitchen? Fuck, yeah, kitchen, Barclay can you come help?”

“Sure. Be right back, babe.”

The kitchen is packed with people doing ill-advised things with drinks, so Duck keeps Barclay in the hall as he whispers, “Man, I, I’m so fuckin sorry but I gotta say somethin’. Joe and I, we, uh, we already met.”

“Makes sense, he’s been in town a year. I just got here.”

“That ain’t the kind of meetin I mean. We got a little, uh, friendly on the porch tonight.”

Barclay gives an “ah” of understanding. Then he chuckles, “thought he looked a little ruffled when he passed me earlier.”

“I’m real fuckin sorry, I didn’t know. ‘Drid and I got an, an agreement, but I shoulda checked to see if he was datin someone.”

“That would have been smart.” Joe appears at Barclay’s shoulder, “but that’s why I said we needed to talk before we did anything else.” He strokes Barclay’s beard, “you and Indrid aren’t the only ones with an open relationship of sorts.”

“Ohthankfuck.” Duck slumps against the wall.

“While I was making sure no one made a punch that could give them alcohol poisoning, you were getting hot and heavy? That’s not fair, babe.” Barclay teases.

“I’ll make it up to you, big guy. Are you safe to drive?”

“Gonna give it another half-hour, just to be safe. You need a ride home, Duck?”

“Uh, sure, that’d be great.”

Soon, he’s bundled in the back of a Subaru, Joe sitting beside him while Barclay navigates through Saturday night traffic. They luck out; the game ran long, so they’re not fighting the throng coming out of the football stadium. When they reach his apartment, Joe stops him and hands Duck his phone. Duck didn’t even feel him take it in the first place. As he waves goodnight, he spots a new number sitting in his contacts and smiles.

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

“...the point is, it amuses me that Joseph shares my taste in me.” Indrid sips his white chocolate mocha, then yawns wide enough for Barclay to spot his tongue piercing, “apologies, I didn’t get to bed until three.”

“Jesus, man, gonna tell Duck to start knocking you out.”

“I was working on commissions.”

Barclay gives him a disbelieving look.

“....I was working on commissions until midnight. Then I spent three hours watching videos on the finer points of home entomology.”

“There it is. You can’t fool me, I remember what you were like at sleepovers.”

“It was very important to read every single Eyewitness book your parents generously bought you.” Indrid takes another sip with an imperious tilt of his head.

Barclay bumps his unoccupied hand, “It’s so fucking nice to see you again.”

Indrid looks at him over his glasses, brown eyes as beautiful as they were when he was sixteen, “Likewise. Oh!” He perks up, “do you know what this means? We can have a double-date! I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“Sure Joseph will be into it; he has a spreadsheet of optimal date locations. Bet he’ll have fun making one for double-dates.”

“That is...exceptionally geeky.”

Barclay sends a love-struck smile into his coffee cup, “Yeah, he is.”

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

Joe is more diabolical than Duck gave him credit for. And he thought he was pretty fucking cunning after he suggest seeing the local hockey team; the chilly arena gave Indrid and excuse to cuddle up to anyone who held still for too long and gave Joe plenty of opportunities to make double entendres about sticks in Duck’s ear.

But a night out at “Woofs” AKA the kind of gay bar where Duck and Barclay get hit on constantly is a whole new level of torment. Especially because Indrid hangs off Duck proudly (when he’s not teasing Barclay for the number of free drinks he’s getting) and Joseph even asks him to dance. When he peeks over the taller man’s shoulder, he sees Barclay resting his hand on Indrid’s arm while whispering something that makes him grin.

Dancing really is the most fitting thing he could be doing, because it’s what all four of them have chosen to do about this; dance around the fact that Indrid and Barclay dated, dance around the fact Joe and Duck kissed, danced around the fact that they’re more or less acting like a polycule already.

“Oh no.” Joe mutters, eyes on the door, “things are about to get loud.”

Duck’s about to point out that the club is already loud when he’s pulled out of the path of not one, but two bachelorette parties. They opt to stay, although Barclay gets hit on by someone who doesn’t believe he’s gay. Joe takes him onto the floor for a slow dance while Duck steps into the bathroom. When he comes out, his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“You guys seen ‘Drid?”

Joe shakes his head, all three of them already moving for the door. They find Indrid across the street on a bench, hunched over and tapping on his knees.

“‘Drid?” Duck sits gently beside him, “you get overwhelmed?”

Indrid nods.

“You wanna head home?”

Another nod. Duck suspects the overstimulation spiked without warning, which usually means…

“You need to be nonverbal for a bit?”

This time Indrid looks at him when he nods, then cringes when he sees Joe and Barclay are watching.

“Our place is closer.” Joe offers, copying Duck’s tone, “we can all bus back there so you can be somewhere quiet. Or, um, if you need it to just be you two, that’s fine too.”

Indrid holds up a finger, indicating option one. Duck helps him up and let’s him stay hidden against his shoulder while they wait for the bus.

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

This used to terrify Barclay. He and Indrid would be hanging out, would be stealthily holding hands in the top row of the football stadium, and his boyfriend would shut down. Barclay, sensing distress, would try to figure out what was wrong, would start to panic when Indrid couldn’t communicate the things happening in his mind and body. They had more than one fight where his attempts to help only made Indrid more overstimulated to the point he snapped at him to fuck off (and, on one occasion, hissed at him).

They worked it out eventually, Barclay keeping a mental list of things that soothed his friend. Watching Duck do some of them, how calm and loving he was, makes something complex bloom in his chest, as vibrant and beautiful as the Dahlias Duck brought them from the garden (“weather’s been so fuckin weird things are bloomin when they shouldn’t”).

When they make it home, Duck stops in the living room and looks between Indrid and Barclay for a moment. Then he murmurs, “‘Drid, you want Barclay to keep you company for a bit?”

Indrid smiles and nods, takes Barclay’s hand and follows him to the bedroom. He lets his memories drive, keeps the light off, arranges his body so Indrid can relax against him, and pets his hair with slow, light motions. His friend hums, meaning he’s on the right track. As he strokes his head he notices the black roots peeking through the silver; it was jarring to see Indrid with pale hair when all his memories were of dark locks of it falling over his face or catching on Barclays hands.

He looks good with the silver. More like himself.

Metal pokes his chest. He takes the glasses Indrid hands him, sets them on Joseph’s stack of library books, then gives a startled, “nnfph” as his friend pulls Barclay on top of him.

“Like the weight” Indrid mumbles, wrapping his arms around him. The longer they lay there, the easier it is to overhear the conversation in the other room.

“I feel awful, if I’d known I’d have never recommended we go somewhere like a loud bar.”

“S’okay, Joe. ‘Drid is still a little wary of tellin people that’s something he has to consider when goin’ out; Dani and them get it, but other folks think he’s bein’ a buzzkill.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re tellin me. Besides, sometimes it comes up so fast, or happens in places he ain’t anticipatin it. He’ll be okay, especially with Barclay takin’ care of him.”

A pause, then, “Do you need someone to, um, take care of you?”

“Joe-”

“It’s alright if the answer is no. But part of my plan was to get everyone in a, um, bit of a frisky mood.”

A snicker, “Frisky?”

“I was trying not to be too crude.”

“Joe, you know how I feel about you. But we gotta check with the others to be sure everythin is on the level.”

“Tell them to come in.” Indrid whispers, a smile plain in his voice.

“Uh, babe? Could you and Duck come in here a sec?”

“Everythin oka--ffft” Duck snorts a laugh, “guess he improvised not havin a weighted blanket.”

“That I did.”

Duck bursts into a grin, hurrying to settle on the bed near Indrid’s head, “Hey, sugar. How you feelin’?”

“Much better. It helps that this one is very soothing.” He toys with Barclay’s hair, sending goosebumps up his arms, “though it seems he had a slighty different reaction to our contact.”

Barclay was so distracted by the conversation that he hadn’t realized his cock was hardening along the familiar warmth of Indrid’s thigh whenever one of them shifted.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright. In fact, it is rather relevant to what you two were discussing in the hall. Am I correct that we all wish to be in some form of polyamorous relationship with each other?”

“Yes” say two voices along with his own.

“Wonderful. I suggest we hash out details later. Right now, it seems you two have, ah, unfinished business.”

“Fuckin finallyAH” Duck cackles as Joseph knocks him backwards, kissing him frantically while yanking up his shirt. As soon as his belly is exposed Joseph begins pawing and groping from there up his sides. Indrid nudges Barclay so they can sit up, allowing the other two more room to disrobe. Or, more accurately, for Joseph to disrobe both himself and Duck, since the shorter man is having trouble moving his limbs between bursts of laughter and moaning.

Joseph crawls backwards, shoving Duck’s legs apart and groping his thighs, “I’ve wanted to get my hands on these since the party. Lord almighty did you look good in those jeans.” He kisses his way up the left thigh, moaning and mouthing at the skin. His posture puts his perfect ass in the air, which happens to be one of Barclay’s favorite views in the whole world. He unzips his pants, fights to get his cock out as Indrid begins offering commentary from beside him.

“Mmmm, were I not still rather exhausted, I’d make him do that to us both.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move his mouth from where it’s teasing Duck’s inner thigh.

“Know you would.” He reaches down to play with Joseph’s hair, “‘Drid’s got a whole fantasy where you blow him while I sit on his face.”

“Funny” Barclay’s voice is turning rough with desire,“he’s got one where he takes all three of us at once.”

Joseph’s face lacks any trace of self-consciousness, a rare thing for him, which means this whole arrangement is fucking brilliant. He simply nods, then takes Duck’s dick into his mouth.

“JEsus, fuck, Joe, ohfuckyeah.” Duck holds Joseph’s head encouragingly, “shoulda known you’d be good at this, you’re so fuckin good at everythin, fuck, fuck.”

Barclay grips his cock, trying to stroke in time with movements of Joseph’s head. Slender fingers carefully push his aside as Indrid purrs, “allow me.”

“You, you don’t have to, you said you were tired-”

“Not too tired for this” he strokes up more firmly, then brushes their lips together, “or this.”

It’s like tasting Hershey Chocolate or Marionberry Pie, transporting him back to their shitty hometown in Eastern Oregon, to summer heat on his skin and basement air in his nose as Indrid proved that yes, kissing boys was what he wanted to do.

Indrid’s certainly gotten better at it since then. Barclay likes to think he has, hopes the other man is feeling even half the things currently piling up in Barclay’s chest.

“Oh.” Indrid sighs as he pulls back, “that’s even better than I remember.”

A particularly loud moan from Joseph, underscored by Duck cursing happily, brings them back to the present.

Barclay moans as Indrid’s hand moves more deliberately.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Uh huh, c-couch, in that, fuck, that basement rec room at my house.”

“You came so fast.”

“Can’t really blame me.”

“Given the sounds he’s making, he might do the same thing now.” Joseph smiles at them from over Duck’s knee, “that’s one of the best things about you. You’re so sensitive, big guy.”

Barclay whines his name. His boyfriend winks, then dives back down to render Duck speechless.

“You really are” Indrid nips his ear, “remember when we, ah, lost it to each other?”

“Mmmhmm” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might make all this last longer. Joseph echoes the noise, making Duck groan.

“Just picture it, Joseph” Indrid is getting into it now, panting and pink-cheeked, “Barclay, eighteen and even shyer than he is now, in my lap, begging me to fuck him.”

‘I, I wasn’t the only one begging.” He grins.

“Of course not. I was desperate to get to it because just seeing you naked had me certain I was going to--one moment” he releases Barclay’s cock, ignoring his whimper to clamber into a position that allows him to kiss Duck as the shorter man grinds into Joseph’s mouth. He doesn’t pull back until Duck’s hips slow and Joseph is busy wiping his lips.

“I can never resist kissing you while you cum.”

“Fuck I love you.” Duck cups Indrid’s cheek. The silver haired man rubs against his palm a moment, then retreats. Duck growls at Joseph, “as for you, you got ten seconds to open your legs so I can show you a good time.”

“So thoughtful” Indrid pecks his cheek, returns to Barclay, “now, where was I…”

“Shy, AHshit, fuckingchristthat’s good.” Joseph’s legs sprawl open as Duck finger-fucks him, sitting on his side to kiss him without obstructing Barclay’s view.

“Ah yes.” He kisses Barclays neck, hand teasing the head of his cock, “you insisted on bottoming because you were so scared you might hurt me. I can still see it, you on your hands and knees, asking me to take you--those were your exact words--then whimpering when I finally got my cock in.”

“Fuck” Joseph is clearly enjoying the story; if Barclay had known he was into this, he would have made all his exes record voicemails describing their exploits.

“If memory serves I came very fast, because you were so much tighter than I expected and you, you felt so good. I used my hands to get you off-”

“Uh huh, fuck, you hadn’t pulled out yet and it was so fucking good, fuck, Indrid-”

“You made such cute noises when you came” a slow, deep kiss as heat floods him, “I wonder if you’ll do the same now.”

“Probably” is all he grunts out before he’s cumming hard enough that most of it hits Joseph’s stomach rather than Indrid’s fingers. His head lolls as his cock pulses, and beneath his own heartbeat he picks up Duck ordering Joseph to be good and cum for him. After a moment, there’s the distinct moan his boyfriend makes during his climax. It’s followed, confusingly, by weak laughter. His eyes flutter open to see Indrid licking his cum off Joseph’s chest, which happens to be ticklish.

He scoots over to join them, Joseph kissing him sleepily the instant he’s close enough.

“You sure you don’t need to cum, sugar?”

“I’m only half-hard, and I know I’m too tired to make it the rest of the way. Not that this wasn’t supremely satisfying. But you each owe me an orgasm sometime in the future.”

“All in favor of blowin ‘Drids mind tomorrow mornin’”

He and the other two raise their hands in sync. Then the four of them collapse, laughing, in each others arms.

#meet ugly #OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #indruck #sternclay #inclay #autistic Indrid #trans duck newton #trans agent stern #reader request #duck newton/agent stern

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inadaydream99 · 3 years

Text

The Thin Line Between Love and Hate

Request from @kpopwrld ~ Haechan enemies to lovers

A/N - Thank you for sending in this request! I absolutely loved writing it, although I got extremely carried away (I think this is the longest oneshot I’ve written). I hope you enjoy! 💕

Disclaimer: mentions of alcohol/ drinking, swearing.

You heave a deep, irritated sigh, eyes clenching shut as you try to calm yourself before giving into Donghyuck’s relentless attention seeking.

“What.” You whisper shout, annoyance evident in your tone as you turn around in your seat to face him behind you. His devilish smirk alone is enough to make you see red.

“Can you move your abnormally large head out of the way so I can see the board?” Donghyuck grins, watching in amusement as you roll your eyes and turn away without a single word.

“Asshole.” You mutter under your breath. Now your mind is far too distracted by your hatred towards Hyuck to focus on your work for the rest of the class. Though it’s not long before you hear the bell ring, signalling the end of the school day.

“So I was thinking I might not go to Jaemin’s party tonight.” You overhear Donghyuck tell Renjun. Thought you don’t dare let on that you’re listening in.

“But why? If you don’t go it’ll be shit.” Renjun tries his best to persuade. “And besides, do you know how many girls have approached me today to ask if you’re going? Cause, let me tell you, it’s a lot.” You try to swallow your grimace. The thought of anyone finding Donghyuck even remotely attractive brings a sour taste to your mouth instantly. He’s horrible, walking around like his owns the place. But that’s what happens when you let popularity get to you. And in the social hierarchy of your school, Donghyuck is at the very top.

“Well, the party’ll have to be shit then, cause I’m not gonna go.” He insists, swinging his back pack over one shoulder before walking away. You shyly glance over to Renjun when you hear his defeated sigh, briefly catching him shake his head before following after his friend.

You’re glad to know that Hyuck won’t be attending Jaemin’s party later, then at least you won’t have to worry about him trying to show you up in front of everyone. That is if you do decide to go yourself. You’re not particularly a party person, it’s just not how you’d prefer to spend your time. But once in a while doesn’t hurt.

You’re not even sure why Donghyuck hates you so much in the first place, but you’ve been sworn enemies for as long as you can remember. Your earliest memory being when he pushed you into a puddle of mud when you were in elementary just because you had taken the blue marker and wouldn’t share it with him.

Ever since that day you’ve never been able to get along. He’s always tried to one up you and rub your face in everything. He even stole one of your best friends, and long time crush, Jeno.

“Woah, what’s with the sad face.” Mark playfully nudges you with his elbow.

Everyday is the same routine. Mark would meet you outside of your last class and you’d walk home together. It’s been that way since middle school, and even now as high school seniors, the tradition is still going strong. Well, minus Jeno, he stopped joining you in ninth grade when he became part of Hyucks popular group.

“It’s nothing. Just-”

“Donghyuck?” Mark finishes your sentence, knowing exactly where it was heading. I mean, it’s pretty predictable at this point and Mark’s your best friend, he’s had more than his fair share of listening to you rant about Donghyuck. “So, you going to Jaemin’s party?” He’s quick to divert the conversation.

“I don’t know if I want to... I mean, it’s a populars party.” You mumble, fiddling with your fingers as you walk beside him.

Now, you and Mark are friends with Jaemin. Hence why you’ve been invited. And although you’re well liked by most people, you always feel shy and awkward around the popular crowd.

“Oh come on, I can’t go without my bestie.” Mark shakes your shoulder, watching as you giggle along with him. His laugh is always so infectious, you can’t resist smiling when you’re around him.

“Fine! I’ll go.” You playfully roll your eyes, watching fondly as Mark cheers overdramatically at getting you to give in.

“(Y/N)! Mark!” Jaemin cheerfully greets you as you enter the party. It’s already in full swing, loud music blaring and everyone dancing and talking to each other.

“Nice party.” Mark high fives Jaemin.

“Yeah.” You half heartedly agree, an uneased smile on your face. You can’t help but feel a little on edge, your eyes peering around the room to make sure that Hyuck really hasn’t turned up, just like he told Renjun earlier.

“Looks like we need to get someone here a drink.” Jaemin sends a cheeky grin to Mark, before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the kitchen.

You come to a sudden halt half way through the crowd. You could have sworn you just heard Donghyuck’s laugh above the rest. It’s so distinctly him that no one else’s laugh could possibly bare a semblance.

“You ok?” Mark takes hold of your shoulders from behind you, mostly to stop himself from crashing into you. Your eyes flicker from searching the room to meet Jaemin’s in front of you, and then onto Mark’s as he peers around you. They both look concerned, but neither of them say anything.

“I’m fine, just- doesn’t matter.” You begin, deciding that explaining the reason for your nervousness is just silly. Jaemin sends you an encouraging smile before leading the way once again until you reach the kitchen.

“Ok, pick your poison.” He chuckles, sending you a challenging smirk.

“I’ll have whatever that mix is.” Mark points to the concoction of brown liquid. It’s evidently a drink that Jaemin had come up with for the party, his devilish smile gives it all away.

“Same.” You nod, still eyeing the drink.

“Good choice.” Jaemin laughs, passing you both a cup before picking up one for himself and holding his towards yours. “Cheers.” You all tap glasses before taking a mouthful.

“There you are!” Mark rushes over to you with a wide, hazy smile on his face. “Come join our game.” He guides you into the next room. You’d lost Mark after your second drink and, since then, hadn’t been able to find him until now.

You enter the room to find a group of people all sitting in a circle, including Jaemin, Jeno and Renjun.

“What’s the game?” You tilt your head in question, confused by the whole setting.

“We’re spinning the bottle to see who has to go in the closet for seven minutes.” Mark informs you as you both join the circle. You watch as Jeno leans into the centre and spins the bottle forcefully.

“(Y/N)!” Jaemin cheers, taking hold of your hand before guiding you towards the closet. “Ok, there’s already someone waiting in there so go on in and have some fun.” He shoots you a wink before shutting the door in your face.

To say you’re a little caught off guard is an understatement and the fact that it’s pitch black doesn’t help at all.

“Oh, sorry.” You jump away after bumping into someone. Obviously you are aware that you’re not alone in the small space, but you hadn’t expected to literally walk into them.

“It’s alright, you can’t see.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t seem to put your finger on it. The voice is low, indicating that is a guy. Maybe it’s someone you share a class with?

“So, how’d you end up in here?” You instantly cringe at your question. Obviously the same way you did, by being chosen by the bottle. “Sorry, that was stupid...” you trail off, letting out an awkward chuckle in an attempt to cover up your embarrassment.

“You’re cute.” The voice admits, this time a lot closer to you. “Is this ok?” You hear half a second before feeling hands gently rest on either side of your waist.

“Yes.” You mutter. “Is this?” You mimick back, reaching out to place your hands onto the guys chest directly in front of you.

“All good.” He responds mere inches from your face now.

Although you can’t see each other you know that you’re attracted to whoever he is. The gentle way he holds you sends a giddy feeling through your body. There’s a connection between you that fizzes to life just from a single touch. An attraction that’s luring you in closer and closer.

You let out a breathy gasp when you feel his hand caress your cheek, drawing you in the direction of his lips.

“Can I?” You can feel his lips ghosting yours, breath mixing and the air hot with anticipation.

“Mhmm.” You sound, already rendered speechless. But that’s all your mystery man needs as confirmation.

Your lips connect in a timid kiss, both of you testing boundaries before anything escalates. But as time goes on, things progressively grow deeper and more passionate.

“Times up!” You break apart when you hear someone banging on the opposite side of the door.

Those seven minutes went by extremely quickly, not that you’re complaining at all. You want to finally find out who you’ve been kissing and the only way to do that is to exit the dark room.

You squint a little when the door first opens, the artificial light blinding you as you step back into the party. Noticing how everyone is watching you in anticipation makes you feel uneased. That is until you finally cast your eyes to your left and see who’s stood beside you.

“This has to be a joke.” You gasp as you lay your eyes on the one and only Donghyuck. He said he wasn’t going to be here tonight...

“I’m glad that’s over. Now pay up.” He darkly snickers, approaching the group of snickering boys. “Nice kissing sweetheart.” He mocks, earning laughter from the rest of the room.

You’ve never felt more embarrassed and hurt in your life. This whole thing was a bet. And although it sounds insane, you think you’re more hurt about the fact that you were kissing Donghyuck and he made you feel a way you’d never felt before... you just want the ground to open up and swallow you.

“Can you believe she fell for it?” His spiteful jokes fall into background noise as you rush out of the room.

“Not cool man.” Mark shoots a glare towards Donghyuck. “And I expected more from you Jaemin. I thought (Y/N) was your friend.” His tone drips with disappointment, filling Jaemin with regret as he watches Mark run off to find you.

Monday morning sees a fresh wave of anxiety hit you. Although it’s been two days since the humiliation at Jaemin’s party, you still can’t bring yourself to get out of bed, let alone consider the idea of going to school.

After you ran off at the party, Mark found you alone outside. It was obvious the whole ordeal had made him sober up and he explained that if he’d known what was going on then he never would have allowed it to happen. After your tears had subsided a little, Mark walked you back home and ever since you’ve been hibernating under your duvet.

As it turns out, Donghyuck had meant for you to overhear his conversation with Renjun about not going to the party because he knew that you were more likely to attend if you thought he wasn’t going to be there. You’d found this out through a series of messages from Jaemin the next day, though you’d still left him on read. You’re not ready to even acknowledge him, let alone consider forgiving him.

“That’s it, out of bed.” Mark barges into your room and throws the covers off of you.

“Mark! How’d you even get in here?” You whine, before stuffing your face into your pillow.

“You mom let me in.” He chuckles at your childish sulking. “You have 5 minutes to get ready otherwise I’m dragging you to school like that.” You lift your head to send him a glare but end up giving in when you see his expression. He’s not joking about and that alone is enough to make you comply.

Walking down the crowed hallway of your school is terrifying. You’re the laughing stock of the whole school. It seems that everyone knows what happened on Friday.

“I need to go.” You tug on Mark’s arm the second you spot Donghyuck at the other end of the hall. He’s stood with his group of friends all listening to him intently as he tells a story. The chorus of laughs that emitt from the group make you feel even more self conscious. If that’s even possible.

“No, you’re not letting this defeat you.” Mark resists your pulling. It was no use anyway, he’s far stronger than you are.

“But I-” your words get caught in your mouth the second you see Donghyuck cast a glance in your direction, his gaze locking on yours.

Everything instantly freezes.

It’s just you and him in your own little world. Your breath hitches in your throat from the way he looks at you so deeply. It’s not harsh or spiteful, in fact he’s looks like he’s remorseful, like he wants to come over to you and make sure you’re ok.

You see, as much as you hate to admit it, since your kiss with him you’ve not been able to think of Donghyuck in the same way. Before he would have made you angry, but now you only feel an ache in your chest, a void that can only be filled by the way he held you that night, or the way his lips fit so perfectly with yours.

You know he felt it too. He must have. Because as much as he likes everyone to believe that he is too cool to feel those sorts of emotions, no one can fake those seven minutes you shared.

“Let’s just get to class.” You’re the first one to break eye contact, your gaze flicking up to meet Mark’s as he stares at you in worry. There’s no way he could have missed the moment between you and Donghyuck, but he doesn’t bring it up. Instead he nods and allows you to pull him in the opposite direction.

Donghyuck continues to watch you as you turn your back and begin walking away with Mark. He never thought he’d see you as anything other than the person he despises the most and yet here he is... wishing he was the one you wanted to go to when you’re hurting.

The hallway is empty when you exit your last class of the day. You’d had to stay behind a couple of minutes to talk to your teacher about the upcoming assignment. Mark was aware of this as you’d informed him at lunch. He’d even said it wasn’t a problem and he’d wait for you, but right now he’s no where in sight. No one is. That is until you hear someone call your name from behind.

“I was hoping to find you.” To your surprise you find Jeno trying to catch up with you.

“Hey.” You smile at him, nervousness bubbling up in your chest just at the thought of having a sustained conversation with him.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing ok. After what happened Friday night...” He seems genuinely concerned, his subtle smile indicating that he feels sorry for you.

“I’m fine... or at least I will be once I’ve sorted a few things out.” You lightly laugh in attempt to make the atmosphere a little more lighthearted.

“I’m glad to hear.” Jeno chuckles along. “Do you want a lift home?” He offers sincerely. You’re surprised by his offer considering this is the longest interaction you’ve had in years. But it feels good to know that he’s still as nice as he’s always been.

“Actually I’m meant to be walking with Mark, but I have no idea where he is.” You forrow your brows in confusion.

“He can have a lift too if we find him?” Jeno offers.

“Well then, that sounds great.” You accept, both of you heading out of the school together with wide smiles on your faces as you fall into a comfortable conversation.

As soon as the door closes, Donghyuck steps out into the hallway from his hiding place behind the lockers. He hadn’t intended to evesdrop on you and Jeno. In fact, he’d actually wanted to try and talk to you, but he’d missed his chance by a split second.

And It’s now he realises the sinking feeling in his chest and the desire to make sure Jeno doesn’t beat him to you next time. The only reason he’d stolen Jeno away from being friends with you all those years ago was because he saw the way you looked at him. It make Donghyuck feel jealous, that’s why he did everything he could to ruin your friendship. But it’s now that he realises even that wouldn’t stop you from liking someone. And he can’t keep missing his chance.

“Where were you yesterday?” You playfully hit Mark on the arm as you approach him at his locker.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), I got stuck in detention. I tried to text you but I got caught and had my phone taken away.” Mark explains through a defeated sigh.

“Why’d you get detention?” You tilt you head in confusion.

“Talking in class, but I was only telling Jaemin to stop talking to me!” Mark throws his hands up defensively, clearly still sensitive over the situation.

“Well, you’re just lucky Jeno offered me a ride home.” You smirk, bursting into laughter at Mark’s surprised expression.

“Wait- you spoke to Jeno!” He feigns shock, playfully mocking you over your crush. Though you don’t get a chance to respond before Mark quickly shushes you and indicates for you to turn around.

“Ah, how nice of you to finally acknowledge me.” Donghyuck’s ever sparkling personality and tormenting smirk graces you.

“What do you want.” You flatly state. You’re already done with this conversation and it’s barely started.

“You could at least try to look happy to see me sweetheart. You couldn’t seem to get enough on Friday and I saw you staring in the hallway yesterday.” He taunts and you want nothing more than to slap the cocky smirk right off his stupidly attractive face.

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too. And besides, I only liked it when I didn’t know it was you.” You spit, shooting daggers at him. You have no idea where this new found confidence has come from but you’re not opposed to it at all. Maybe Donghyuck wearing your patience thin was a good thing because at least now you’re not going to let him get away with his typical bullshit.

Before he has enough time to fire a comeback at you, you’ve already grabbed Mark’s arm and walked away.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Mark jokes, completely in awe of how you just stood up to Donghyuck like that.

Donghyuck’s jealously is through the roof. He can’t stand watching you and Jeno laughing together in science the way you are. It should be him who you’re looking at with so much affection. If only he hadn’t messed up for the hundredth time that morning.

When you’d stood up to him he was left deflated. Ok, so he’d come across all cocky when he’d really been intending to ask you out. But that’s how you make him. He’s fallen for you hard and he doesn’t know how to get back up. You send him into a spiral of panic and his default setting is to mock and insult you.

“What do you want Hyuck?” You sigh as he approaches you while you are packing your things away. The way you say his name makes his heart skip a beat. And that’s before you’ve even properly looked at him.

“I just wanted to appologise for earlier, and everything actually.” He timidly mumbles.

Had you just heard him right? Have you inhaled too many chemicals in class and are now hallucinating?

“Huh?” You gawk, mouth hanging agape as you stare at Donghyuck in disbelief.

“So... are we cool?” He awkwardly questions, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Are we cool? When have you ever wanted to be cool with me?” You raise your brow at him, arms folded defensively as you persuade yourself that this is some kind of cruel trick on his part.

“I just think it’s time we put everything behind us.” Hyuck nods, forcing a meek smile onto his face. In truth he’s scared of you rejecting him. Not that he’ll ever let you know.

“Oh sure. Yeah, put everything behind us and move on.” You mock. “You know what, I’ll do you one better. Let’s become best friends yeah?” You condescendingly rant. It’s outrageous how he can think you two can suddenly forget all the years of relentless hating each other. The audacity he has is sickening.

“I really mean it (Y/N)...” You pause to look at him for a minute. “I reasied that I’ve always liked you, I’ve just not known how to deal with it. I mean, that kiss was the best I’ve ever had.” Donghyuck confesses, laughing at himself in the process. “But you’re right.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m stupid the even think you’d feel the same...”.

It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen Donghyuck.

“Well... I suppose I can admit that you are a good kisser.” You play coy, failing to hide the smirk that breaks out across your face.

“Only good?” Donghyuck’s face lights up, chuckling in amusement as he becomes increasingly confident once again.

“Fine, you’re great.” You admit, falling shy under his affectionate gaze. You turn your head to the side, trying to hide how flustered Hyuck makes you when his hands settle on your waist. It’s like they were always meant to be there.

“You’re great too.” He gently tucks his finger under your chin to coax your focus back onto him before bringing his lips dangerously close to yours.

You’re the first to lose patience, closing the space between you in desperation. Your lips melting together perfectly, clashing hurriedly, as if you’re both making up for lost time.

“Wanna walk home with me and Mark?” You breathlessly question the instant you pull apart. Donghyuck laughs in amusement as he reaches out to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I’d love to.” He accepts through a warm smile, interlacing your fingers with his as you finally head out of the classroom.

It’s funny how things turn out. How years of despising each other can really be the result of not knowing how to express feelings. But Donghyuck is finally able to admit that he really has fallen for you. And you really have fallen for him too.

~ Bonus ~

“Finally!” Mark throws his hands in the air the second he sees you walk into the hallway with Donghyuck.

“We didn’t make you wait that long.” You sass back, casting a glance up to Donghyuck when you hear him snicker.

“You kinda did actually, but I understand you had some very important things to discuss...” Mark teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you both before bursting into laughter.

#nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct oneshot #nct drabbles #nct request #nct fanfiction #nct fanfic #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 2020 #nct haechan #nct donghyuck #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop oneshots #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop drabbles

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markedforruin · 3 years

Text

The Forest Lawn Mill Mystery Prologue

So here’s a small thing I wrote with Jeffery Mason and Sage Wilkinson. Will it be continued? most likely. When? who knows lol

Reminder that Jeffery Mason as a character is solely owned by David Near, and I am in no way affiliated with him and this is just a fanwork. Nothing crazy. Go listen to his audios on youtube if you haven’t!

Story here:

It hadn’t been more than a few days since Sage had begun talking to the new kid at school.

He was kind of weird.

He had albinism but dyed his hair black, as if he didn’t stand out enough as is. Apparently he thought black hair combined with his extremely pale face would help him blend in, but he was already hanging out with the class goth so… Sage doubted that.

Maybe “hanging out” was an overstatement. They had been assigned a group project, and they talked a lot, but they hadn’t hung out outside of school hours. Maybe if they did, Sage would get to know Jeff better, and they could stop complaining about math class and talk about things they liked.

“So uh… Are you doing anything after classes?” Sage was so bad at making friends, but they had to try. Jeff seemed like a cool person after all.

“Why?” Jeff’s almost monotone voice broke through the silent school library.

“Because I was thinking maybe you’d wanna hang out more? We can come over to my place… You could meet Beetle?”

Jeff gave his classmate a sideways glare. “You got a pet beetle or something?”

“No! No, it's a horse! He’s a horse. His name is Beetle.”

Jeff chuckled a little, covering his mouth with a fist. “That’s the weirdest horse name I’ve heard of.” He admitted.

“But it’s not the worst! My parents own a riding school so we live on a huge farm property, and trust me, some folks have horses stabled there with even worse names.” Sage laughed, finding his phone to look up the site his parents had made.

“Here, look-” He shoved the phone in Jeff’s face, leaning all into him.

“What the fuck- Post Stallione? Like Post Malone?”

“yeah. He’s a fine horse but his name is…”

“That’s so fucking cringe, Sage.”

“I know!”

They had a small laugh, but fell silent again quickly.

“So… Is that a yes, or?”

Jeff sighed audibly and loudly.

“I don’t know.” Was his reply. Sage thought he wasn’t going to say more, but he released a breath and opened his mouth again.

“We’re still missing some furniture at my house, and I don’t think my dad would like you, so… Fine. Fine. I need a fucking break from that house anyways…” He mumbled that last part.

“Is your dad homophobic?” Sage tapped their pencil on the paper. The numbers were swimming around on the page, and they’d resorted to doodling their horse instead of doing math.

“Honestly I think he’s just ignorant, but he’s real fucking annoying about it. Barely knows what a transgender person is, let alone someone like you.”

Sage turned to look at Jeff, and the boy looked back.

“Because I’m nonbinary?”

“yeah.”

Sage huffed mockingly. “When I meet him-”

“IF.”

“WHEN I meet him, I’ll look him in the eye and say “Nice to meet you ma’am, you must be the housewife! you’ve birthed a fine young son, i am glad to be his friend.””

That had Jeff laughing, and Sage joined in.

“I’m not opposed to mocking my dad, that’s for sure!”

“And I’m not above kicking down the ego of dads like yours.” Sage bowed dramatically.

“Alright, alright, I’ll come home with you, then. You’re fucking hilarious, Sage.”

Sage clicked their tongue. “Thank you, I know I gave a stellar performance.”

Fastest way out of Forest Lawn was the school bus, which meant they were surrounded by lots of noisy teenagers.

Both of them wore their earbuds to drown it all out. Sage leaned over to look at Jeff’s phone.

The boy leaned away clearly not wanting to share his screen.

“What are you listening to?”

“Nothing you’d like.”

“Try me.”

Jeff offered an earbud in silence.

What came out the other end was… Oh hey! Emperor!

“Oh symphonic black metal… Good taste dude.”

Jeff looked back at Sage with almost googly eyes.

“That’s new.”

“What, somebody liking the same music as you? Dude I listen to metal too, look at me!”

“I’ve been looking at you since we were assigned that group project, Sage.”

“So?” Sage snatched Jeff’s phone to add some music to his playlist.

Jeff shrugged, and let Sage take over his phone on his watch.

Their stop was the very last, and as they hopped out, the only things around them were trees and gravel paths.

“It’s not far from here, just gotta go up this way.”

Jeff followed along silently, not protesting.

“What do you think about Forest Lawn so far?” Sage looked back at Jeff.

“You want an honest answer?”

“Yeah, I live right outside the town, I don’t care what you think of it.”

“It’s fucking horrible, honestly. I hate this town.”

Sage nodded thoughtfully.

They made it to the main driveway, and the Wilkinson’s riding school property slowly came to light.

“People say the town is cursed, y’know.” Sage unlocked the main door and waltzed inside.

“I’m not superstitious. Also where’s your parents?”

It was a bit too quiet in the house.

“They’re working until 8 pm, and also they’re both very superstitious so they’ve told me a lot of stuff about the town.”

Sage led Jeff upstairs to their room and threw the school bag they’d carried on the floor next to his desk.

They motioned for Jeff to sit on the bed. It was pretty big, so Sage joined him.

“Ok, spit it out, tell me.” Jeff seemed pretty eager to know about all this.

Sage cracked his knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

They both got comfortable, and then Sage began.

“People talk about Teenagers and young adults being brainwashed by radio static, and children keep reporting this “man in the woods”, also there’s rumors floating around about the abandoned Mill close to here… It’s complicated. Around 30 years ago Forest Lawn saw the biggest disappearance of children ever over the summer. None of them were found, until 5 years ago, when one single naked woman was found passed out on the highway with her leg torn open. Her DNA showed that she was literally one of the children that had gone missing.”

Jeff intently listened, not a noise escaping him as Sage told their story.

“She’s still in psychiatric care at Pinehearst State hospital. Last update the public got from her was that she was adamant about some “tall man” that took care of everyone, which is the exact same thing children are saying today too.”

Sage paused for a moment.

“The Mill, though? man that’s a crazy story. It’s locked up and apparently age old paint on it from like… the 1800’s that says “plague, stay out” was painted on. It’s kind of close to here but I’ve never visited because you can’t get there by car, and going on horseback is at least a whole day’s trip.”

“I wanna see that mill, are you serious!?” Jeff was officially invested.

“What if there are dead bodies in there or something, dude? no way!”

“Uh, yes way, you didn’t strike me as a coward.”

“Group pressure doesn’t work on me Jeff.”

“Group pr- we’re two people, man.”

Sage crossed his arms. “I bet you don’t even know how to ride a horse.”

Jeff shot back at him. “Fine, then teach me.”

#jeff the killer #jeffery mason #sage wilkinson #creepypasta #the morgue files #david near #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fic #sage is nonbinary and uses they/them mainly but sometimes he/him

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honeym4rk · 4 years

Text

station (jjh)

college! jaehyun x reader word count: 3.0k summary: four times you find yourself alone with jaehyun at a bus station.

There is comfort in the silence.

With every step you take, there is a crunch of fallen, juniper leaves at your feet. Your canvas tote bag is looped around your shoulder, your fingers clinging to the straps like it would shield you from the awkwardness of the current circumstances.

He’s got his hands hidden in the cavity of his hoodie. His knuckle cracking is sporadic, and you cringe at just how many times they’ve made an encore in the past two minutes.

You really should have begged Mark to tag along and leave the shindig so that this wouldn’t have happened- but alas, the boy was still hooked by the prospect of winning the next round of Mario Kart against Donghyuck. ‘It does some good to my self-esteem,’ he’d said.

So here you are, sauntering bashfully to the bus stop with Jaehyun.

“So, uh- what bus are you taking?” You muster up the courage to speak up after a few minutes of painful reticence.

“I’d have to take 922 or 153 from the opposite stop to get back to hall,” he sighs. It’s clear that he reciprocates the weird, distinctive tension here.

“And you?” He faces you with his raised eyebrows and you’re baffled by the sudden eye contact made. Your eyes dart elsewhere.

“Oh, I’m taking 922 from here.” You nod your head imperceptibly at the bus stop ahead of you.

A few metres away, there’s a zebra crossing, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re finally about to part ways. Oh, you’re sure Jaehyun is a nice person and all, but that doesn’t change the fact that the unspoken, kind enmity in the air is capable of being taut so hard around your neck that you asphyxiate.

Ten more steps. Come on.

Five steps.

Three steps.

“I’ll see you next ti-”

Yet he doesn’t stop at the crossing. Instead, he continues his stride in tandem with yours towards the station. You stop in your tracks, slowly gesturing towards the beaconing street light with the hand you raised to bid adieu.

“Aren’t you going to, you know..?” Eyes hinting at the yellow streaks of light, at the bus stop across the road, anywhere away from his own. Jaehyun notices your halt and follows suit.

“Well, I mean, Mark did ask me to see that you got home safe....”

You immediately wrack your brain for an appropriate response to his chivalry. It’s unclear how you should react; he really caught you by surprise. And from the way he’s gnawing at his inner lip and raising a hand to scratch the nape of his neck, you infer that he’s abashed too. All you manage is a small, “Oh,” as more silence ensues, before you start to blabber,

“No, no, thanks, Jaehyun, but it’s really fine, you don’t have to.”

His lips are taut into a firm, straight line and he lets out a surreptitious hum.

“Let me just wait ‘til you board your bus. Is that okay? It’s getting pretty late.”

You want to vehemently object.

And you’re about to, but you let out a consenting “Yeah, alright.”

He’s invading your desiderated solace- yet something about his offer seems so genuine and saccharine that you comply out of curiosity. You’d heard things about Jaehyun around in school before, good things, especially seeing that he was well acquainted with your friends like Mark, but you’d never really encountered him until tonight, thanks to Donghyuck’s birthday celebration. Being a Linguistics student, fate hadn’t really presented many opportunities for him to meet someone majoring in Pharmacy.

Therefore- you think to yourself- it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s unlikely that you’ll actually talk to him again, since you’ll probably never be within a radius of at least ten metres from him again. It’s alright, it’s okay. You decide to let him be a gentleman.

So you bask in the quietude shrouding the two of you, as you sit on the metal form, awaiting the arrival of a yearned 922.

After all, there is the slightest hint of comfort in the silence.

There is also comfort in the familiarity.

You’re sure there’s a sense of déjà vu. It’s a similar scene to what had ensued a few weeks ago, at least, and you’re definitely surprised to be here again, with him . However, you’ve both abandoned the multi-layered cake of unease. It’s almost been completely devoured now. Fortunately.

Jaehyun’s chuckling relentlessly- nearly doubled over laughing- as you recount the earlier occurrences of the Friday night.

“Yeah, no, but I’d give anything to see the look on Donghyuck’s face again.” His eyes crinkle into small crescents as he runs a hand through his silver hair.

“He looked so confident that it was going to work and I’d already told him otherwise, but I really don’t know what he expected.”

Tonight, there had been an effort to study in Donghyuck’s apartment; considering the looming exam season. This purpose was indeed fulfilled, to some extent.

Then Donghyuck, feeling rather ravenous, decided that he wanted to indulge in a quick and easy two-ingredient Oreo mug cake. The video tutorial truly looked too good to be true- you’d seen multiple YouTubers debunk the content-farm produced recipes.

The wide-eyed boy was too desperate, however, as he credulously decided to fill his mug with crushed oreos and milk to the brim. He swore that it looked and sounded promising until a loud Pop! reverberated in the kitchen 30 seconds into heating.

Everyone gathered around to watch Donghyuck cry over his spilt milk, literally, as his appliance perpetually emitted smoke, its glass door burst open. Burnt mounds of moist black and white cookies were thrown at the white, metal walls of the microwave. Donghyuck fanned the plumes of smoke hastily.

“It looks like a volcano erupted.” Mark added, coughing, as he tried to swallow the chuckle bubbling at the back of his throat.

“Dude- I don’t want to say I told you so but,” You began to implore, before Donghyuck interjected.

“Maybe I should just try again, I think the microwave setting just wasn’t right.”

And so he did- but to no avail.

The two of you approach the tiny station side by side, and you relish the warm, fuzzy feeling establishing in your stomach. Not quite butterflies, but maybe more like a tiny sprout popping out of the ground.

“To be fair, though, it didn’t taste half as bad as it looked.”

You snort. “Sure, because it’s literally sugar and milk with a dash of hidden carcinogens.”

He lets out a low chortle. Jaehyun nails the bellowing dad laugh right down to a T, and some part of you finds this endearing.

A flash of bright light emerges as you look up from your feet. 922 has arrived and you’re rummaging through your bag for your bus card.

“I feel like I left my card at Donghyuck’s, shit,”

The bus halts.

“Here, use mine, I’ve got a spare.” Jaehyun offers without a second thought, pulling his card from the pocket of his denim jeans.

“Go on, the bus driver’s waiting.”

You would have thought this through for a little while longer, but he was right. A scowl that said ‘Stop wasting my damn time,’ is plastered on the driver’s face, and it urges you to carefully pick the card slotted between his fingers.

“Thanks so much- I’ll return it tomorrow, or something.” Your eyebrows furrow together and you clench your teeth together in a grimace.

“Yeah! Yeah, whenever. Good night, Y/N. Get home safe,”

“You too, thanks again!”

Boarding the bus hastily, you wave at him through the glass door as the bus sets off. He doesn’t leave until you’re out of sight.

You can’t help but grin as you examine the portrait on his student pass. He’s handsome, skin clear and glossy, hair parted such that there are a bunch of strands obstructing his forehead. It’s black in this image. You wonder how many colours it's been dyed. His dimples replicate the poked slime in the myriad of videos you’ve seen, and his cheekbones are incredibly prominent.

It dawns on you that you don’t have his number, or follow him on Instagram, or have any means to contact him at all. You guess that you’ll have to fish something from Mark, but Jaehyun seems to beat you to it.

Unknown, [2340]: hey this is jaehyun lol hope you get back safe :-)

A sudden flash of the many possible outcomes this could entail breezes past your mind. You’re quite uncertain about how this will play out, and you unlock your phone to reply.

Y/N, [2341]: hii hahah thanks again! i can return your card tomorrow, just lmk where i can drop by

Jaehyun, [2341]: yeah sure, i think i’ll be cooped up in starbucks doing work w my friends lol

Jaehyun, [2341]: u can join if ud like :o

There is comfort in the unknown.

There is comfort in the noise.

Your whole herd of boisterous friends are walking uphill from yet another study session at Donghyuck’s- there’s been quite a number of them since the first. You’re honestly amused by how many people can fit in his apartment. The study group has expanded from a mere four to a whopping seven people in total.

Thankfully, there haven’t been any microwave oven explosions since then, but you’ve had your good share of fun and company, and more importantly, productivity.

The pack of young adults currently divulging the extensive, latest gossip and hall horror stories, you and Jaehyun stray further behind. You’re trying to listen in and pick apart information, but you’ve joined the conversation a bit too late for context.

“Oh my god, Lia, you’re going to hate hearing this, but…” Jungwoo begins, his voice entering a decrescendo.

“But Jeno has a girlfriend? Yeah, I figured.” Lia wails. “I saw them together in the library the other day, being all cute and shit. My heart shattered .” She emphasises this by hitting Jungwoo’s shoulder out of pure frustration.

“How long have they been together, though?” Ryujin quips, to which she gets a reply, but you try to drown out the rest of their conversation.

You tug at the arm of Jaehyun’s sweatshirt, and he leans closer to you as you query, “Who’s Jeno, again?”

“Cute dude that she keeps bumping into at hall, I think,” he mumbles. His words are semi-intelligible, because of the commotion right in front of you.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.” The infinite frequencies are hard to tune out, and it gets increasingly arduous to do so when Ryujin gasps.

“Oh shit, the bus is here!” Your friends are immediately ready to break into a sprint, but Jaehyun’s feet seem heavy as he continues to meander with you.

“Jae, aren’t you coming? The next one’s in thirty minutes!” Jungwoo shouts as they begin to dash across the road.

“It’s fine, go on! I’m just a little lazy. See you!” Jaehyun dismisses him with the wave of his extended hand, and receives an incredulous look. The lame excuse confuses you, bamboozles you, but you wave goodbye to your friends anyway.

It’s been long since you’ve been caught alone here at the bus stop with Jaehyun- you usually head home with Mark every Friday. He’s not here, though. He’s crashed at Donghyuck’s for tonight.

“Uhm, what was that ?” You chuckle nervously, the little sprout in your belly magically reappearing. Truth be told, after the many lighthearted, late-night messages exchanged over the past few weeks, and after unravelling Jaehyun bit by bit, the sprout has grown into a pocket-sized garden. It brings its own butterflies, but you don’t quite have the audacity to admit this. There’s a different kind of trickiness lingering in the air tonight.

“Well, you know- Mark…and it’s- it’s getting late, kinda.” He’s timorous tonight. Under the luminescence of the bus station’s lamps, you see the pink tint land on the tips of his ears, something you’ve learnt happens when he’s rather shy.

“I wanted to ask you something, too, though.”

“Okay, shoot.” You take a seat. He sits a modest distance away from you, cracking his knuckles instinctively.

“Well, I uhm, I’m not quite sure how you’ll react to this but,” he licks his lips.

“But?” You encourage him to carry on, staring as you await his continuation.

He looks as if he’s got the words at the tip of his tongue, the sea of sentences about to overflow from his mouth, and they’re spilling when he starts speaking again.

“Would you-” You listen intently, attempting to read his lips. However, he’s cut off by the booming wails of a velocious ambulance. You whip your head around to watch the vehicle pass by.

Jaehyun breathes sharply, exhaling in frustration. The cries subside, so he tries again.

“Y/N,” he clears his throat, and you face him once more.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I was wondering if-”

A fire truck zooms past the bus stop, and your attention is grabbed by the monotonous siren that raids your ears. Jaehyun notices your bus approaching, and he panics. The air-raid isn’t becoming distant; the truck’s obstructed by the imposing red-light flashing. There’s only so much time left to ask what he’s been dying to- and he can’t believe he’s getting cockblocked by the emergency services right now.

You’re hearing Jaehyun spill a string of words but they’re incoherent- all you can seem to comprehend is the blaring repetitions that are relentless.

“What?!” You shout, fighting past the cacophony. “I can’t hear you!” You’re signing this to him, pointing to your ear and shaking your hand vigorously.

Your bus halts before you. Jaehyun’s in an absolute frenzy now. He doesn’t want to do this online. Something about hiding behind his screen sounds so ingenuine to him, and you’re already standing, shit, but he can’t win against the absolute pandemonium and doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the small crowd that’s alighted the bus, but he’s also not sure when he’ll get to talk to you in private like this again,

So he clamours.

“Do You! Want To Go Out! With Me!” He’s cupping his large hands around his mouth, screaming into the makeshift amplifier with all his might, as you walk towards the front doors of the bus.

You look like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide open in disbelief as you gawk at the boy who’s sheepishly glancing at everyone and using his hand to defend himself from their stares. The butterflies that have erupted in you are merciless.

And then you burst into a fit of laughter- Jaehyun curses the sirens for piercing through such a pleasant sound- and you nod profusely, one foot already boarding the bus.

The glass doors shut close, and you’re enthusiastically gesturing to your handphone, waving at him. The bus whizzes away.

He’s shell-shocked, and he’s unable to will his hands in drawing his phone from his pocket. The sudden series of vibrations brings him back to his senses.

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝),[2257]: WAIT ask me again

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2257]: idk if i heard u right

Jaehyun, [2258]: k

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2258]: dude come back </3

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2258]: YES lol

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2257]: yeeeeeeees

It heavily hinders Jaehyun that night, but there is comfort in the noise.

There is comfort in the isolation.

It’s only the blinding fluorescent lights and the cool breeze presenting company at the bus stop- you’re grateful that the occasional cars speeding by are helping you break down the very last walls of tension between the two of you, if there are any.

Whoosh.

“I really enjoyed today.” He smiles and steals a quick glance at you. You’re at a different bus stop now- a month later and you’re amazed that you’ve gone out with Jaehyun at least three times now.

You catch the slight twinkle in his eyes as he scoots a whole foot nearer towards you on the cool metal bench. The distance between the two of you is closing slowly yet your heart rate is augmenting. It’s accelerating now- faster than any of the rambunctious vehicles that race down the road, their engines revving dirtily.

Whoosh. A black BMW zooms past you both and you take the opportunity to reciprocate the cheeky glimpse.

“Me too.”

There’s fumbling of fingers and twiddling of your thumbs before you notice the sudden influx of light and buzzing and realise that your bus has arrived. Pure languish rushes through every vein in your body- you don’t want this night to end.

Jaehyun begins to stand and shoots a quizzical expression when you don’t follow suit.

“Let’s wait for the next one,” you grin, your legs swinging back and forth as you continue to glue yourself on the elevated seat.

The sound of his chuckle envelopes you into a warm hug- it’s deep, and strong, yet soft at the same time- and then you’re pulled to your feet by your wrists before he embraces you with confident hesitation too.

“Is this- it’s okay, right?” He just wants to be sure.

“Yeah- very.” You breathe, and his boyish smell fills your lungs. There is difficulty in naming what scented cologne he’s used today; but you devote no more attention. You just wallow in the tangy, mellow fragrance that has permeated your senses.

He’s got his arms coiled around your waist, his palm extended to press your back closer to him. You’re playing with the sharp, freshly cut hairs on the back of his neck. You run your fingers through them and he dives his head further into the crook of your neck. Jaehyun’s muffled voice is tickling your shoulder-

“Your hair smells really nice.” The corners of your lips edge upwards into an unrelenting grin.

“Thank God.”

There is comfort in Jaehyun.

#nct #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun blurb #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jung yoonoh #jaehyun #nct imagines #nct oneshot #nct au #nct fanfic #hm4rk os #hm4rk jaehyun

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kinghoranshit · 3 years

Text

Tell Me A Lie (NH) Ch 5

Word count: 1455

Warnings: kissing, softness

A yelp left me as I rolled off the couch, which was followed by a groan. I rubbed my forehead that had hit the leg of the coffee table and squinted at a curled up Niall.

We really fell asleep on the couch.

The TV held the “are you still watching” screen for who knows how long. I found the remote to turn the TV off, then I sighed as I looked at Niall. He was now stretching out, cracking his muscles, and yawned. As he sat up, he wiped his face before he looked up at me.

“Good rest,” he mumbled.

I laughed, it came out hoarse and I coughed in an attempt to clear my throat. “Yeah, definitely.”

He looked like he was about to ask if I was okay, but he stood instead. “Breakfast before or after we get ready?”

“That’s-”

“No, it’s not. You choose.” Niall shot me a look.

I vaguely rolled my eyes. “Uhm… How about after.”

He smiled. “Perfect.”

I grabbed my stuff before following him upstairs and he lowkey dropped me off. He tapped his hand on the trim as he awkwardly leaned against it. “Hey, what’re you planning to wear today?”

“Depends on the weather outlook I guess.” I shrugged. “Why?”

“I…” He coughed into his hand. “Thought we could match a little.”

I couldn’t help the laugh. “Adorable. Well, uhm, let me check the weather.” The screen lit up once I’d lifted it and unlocked it. The weather was supposed to be cooler today. I could get away with a sweatshirt look. I took out my vintage, navy golf sweatshirt, white tennis skirt, white crew socks, and tan sneakers.

“I think this is what I’m gonna wear.”

He smirked. “Okay, I think I’ve got something to match. See you in a bit.”

I nodded. “You too.”

Internally I cringed after he was gone. You too? What the fuck was that? I tried to not overthink it as I ran a shower and quickly cleaned up. I blow dried my hair before I pulled it up into a messy pony, then clipped my slight bangs back with two small pearl barrettes. I didn’t have the energy to try super hard on my makeup, so it was a simple concealer, light brown eyeshadow, and peachy tinted balm kind of day.

When I looked at the fit in the mirror, immediately all the negative thoughts ensued - the most present one being that I was frumpy. It was meant to be. I had to remind myself that, and even if it wasn’t, being frumpy isn’t a bad thing. Like most people, my style was inspired from photos on pinterest. I wouldn’t even pretend that my outfits were original if someone asked. But I did enjoy my clothes so that’s what mattered.

My mini backpack matched my sneakers, which were louder on the stairs than my barefoot feet. I cursed even though it was literally just Niall and I, and we were both awake. Whistling sounds from the kitchen and I swifted in to see Niall dancing in front of the stove.

I held back a laugh. “Breakfast and a show? I’m getting the five star experience around here.”

Niall wore one of his own golf crewnecks with white shorts and white Nikes. It was way more reminiscent of the days before they disbanded. Though his style hadn’t changed much since then. He looked… good.

He turned off the burner and shook his head. He plated scrambled eggs and avocado smeared on some sort of bread, then slid one of them to me. “Don’t worry, it’s dairy free.”

My heart fluttered. I nodded. “Thanks. Looks delicious.”

***

Niall and I walked down the main of Melrose, hand in hand. I tried to focus on Niall as we walked. Dirty looks seemed to project in my direction. Social media was easier to handle to be honest.

Despite how delicious breakfast was, my stomach rolled in itself with nausea. I found myself humming a small tune to distract myself.

“What’re you humming?”

I glanced at Niall, flushed, and stopped. “It’s nothing.”

“Let’s not play this game, Kelly. What is it?”

I sighed heavily. “It’s a… It’s a song from one of the story playlists.”

Niall brightened up. “What song?”

I cleared my throat. “Superhero by Lauv.”

“Oi! I love that song. It’s a bop.”

“Agreed… It’s not for the Stone Cold series. It’s an individual project.”

He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, I’m not sure if it’s something I’ll share with the public. It was originally a shits and giggles purge Tumblr fic, but then I decided to rewrite it as an episodic screenplay.”

“I can’t say it’s something I’d enjoy, but I’m sure there are a lot who would.” His phone buzzed so he pulled it out to check. His hand squeezed around mind and he slowly came to a halt.

His eyes gazed into mine. He rested one hand on my cheek and the other on my hip. I tried not to look or feel confused; it wasn’t working. I was still unaware when the hired paps were going to be nearby, but they must be now. I attempted to put on a show smile, taking a step closer, and rested my hands on his torso as we leaned in for a kiss.

His soft lips so carefully touched mine. His hand snaked to the back of my neck and the following kiss was much more passionate. Then they were gone.

I was stunned. That seemed way more than a friendly kiss. I didn’t have much time to process as Niall entwined our hands again and pulled us toward a store as the paps “swarmed” us. When we were in a more secluded area of the Gucci store, I tugged him to a stop.

“What was that second kiss?”

“I don’t really know… It needed to be believable.”

I snorted. “Well, that felt pretty damn real.”

Both of us fell silent, and he tapped his fingers on the display table. “It… Wasn’t. It was just for show. Did you want anything in here?”

I raised my eyebrows. There was definitely a better answer than what he gave me, yet it was a can of worms that didn’t need to be opened. I cleared my throat. “I can’t afford it.”

He lightly smirked. “Melrose is full of luxury stores. It’s on me. We could get something matching?”

“Nialler, that would be crazy.”

“Crazy fun, you mean.” His eyes sparkled as he bit his bottom lip. “Come on, let loose!”

I overlooked him a few more seconds, just to antagonize him. Finally, I sighed. “Fine. But not from here. No one would believe you bought something from Gucci, even for me… What about Versace or Burberry? They’ve got dope trousers and accessories.”

He shot me his look with one eyebrow cocked. He didn’t say a word.

I rolled my eyes. “You know I’m on pinterest a lot.”

“That… sounds ideal.” He reached his hand out for me to take. “Let’s do it.”

***

When we returned to Niall’s mansion with bags of belts, shirts, and trousers that evening, we covered news articles and social media. All used the few photos taken, the star being the second kiss and it looked very much… believable. Modest! sent praising emails for how well this first outing was. It was an odd appraisal.

“Hey, what if we went to a couple bars tonight?” Niall suggested.

“Will there be any dancing involved?”

“Nnnn- yeeesss,” Niall answered by gauging the emotion on my face.

I laughed under my breath. “I love a good club if you’re down. We can always save it for tomorrow night. Saturday might be better anyway.”

“It’s LA, Kelly. Every night is a good night to drink and dance. That life never dies here.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” I admitted, narrowing my eyes at him.

He pecked my cheek. “I’m Irish, of course it’s good. Leave in an hour or so?”

I hesitated. “I… How about tomorrow night? Today was a lot to be honest.”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah! Whatever you want. Any ideas for dinner?”

A small smile spread on my lips. “Tacos?”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied. “I’ll get it set up.”

“Thanks.”

I snuck upstairs to the guest bedroom and flopped down onto the bed. My body sunk into the jersey soft comforter and I let out a tired breath. Lazily, I scrolled through all my notifications, replying to all the text messages from my friends and parents. They all bought that Niall and I were legit. Obviously that’s good, but also it leaves a terrible taste in my mouth.

Next: Ch 6

[Masterlist]

#Niall Horan #Niall Horan fic #Niall Horan fanfiction #fic #romance #drama #comedy #Tell Me a Lie #NH #Ch 5

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thespian-wallflower · 4 years

Text

Just One Drink (Hazbin Hotel Fanfic)

(Hi! It’s been literally forever since I’ve posted a fic to my Tumblr account, but I wrote this one just for fun about a week ago. Yay, distancing.

Angel Dust x Husk, one-shot, takes place the same night as the pilot. Angel and Husk share some bonding time at the bar, and they talk about serious subjects. Alastor makes an appearance. Abuse mention. Rated M mostly for language and sexual references, normal for Hazbin. Threw a couple of personal headcanons in here, but I tried my best to be accurate to the characters. Enjoy!)

“Oh, bartender!” a familiar voice sang in a thick New York accent. Don’t look at him.

“Huskie?” No acknowledgement, and he’ll go away. “HUSK!” Silence.

“Ay, I’m talkin’ to you, pussycat!” Husk whirled around, slamming his paws on the bar counter and baring his teeth aggressively at the spider demon who taunted him. “What?? What the fuck do you want?” Angel Dust blinked in surprise at the cat demon’s outburst, but his shocked expression was quickly replaced by a coy smile. “Um, a drink, obviously. This is a bar, remember.” It wasn’t a question. He hoisted himself up on the counter, sprawling out into a relaxed position before speaking up again. “You’re gonna need a test subject for your first drink, right?” Husk rolled his eyes. “Look, I just got here. And I’m really not in the mood for your shit. Now get your ass off the counter.” Angel shrugged, ignoring the request. “It’s been a few hours. You had dinner with us and everything. Can’t you settle in, for me?” Angel batted his eyelashes in a flirtatious manner, which made Husk snort in disgust. “Why should I? I’m already being forced to work here against my fuckin’ will.” He glared across the room at Alastor, who was wandering around, sizing the place up. The Radio Demon caught Husk’s eye and grinned wider before wiggling his fingers in a condescending wave. Husk replied by flipping the bird.

Angel sighed. “Look, let me finish one drink, and I’m outta your hair for the night. Demon’s honor.” He raised two sets of right hands. With a bitter laugh, Husk stated plainly, “Demons have no honor.” “Hey, I’m tryin’ to reform here. Give a guy the benefit of the doubt, babe.”

Husk glared at Angel Dust for a moment, arms folded, then asked, “What’ll it be?”

“Sex on the Beach, thank ya much. I’m feelin’ something fruity tonight.”

Husk gathered the ingredients and started to make the drink. “Yeah, well, that’s fitting, because you look fruity, too.”

Angel chuckled lightly. “Clever. But if that was meant to insult me, you’re gonna have to try harder. I’ve heard ‘em all, doll.” He folded his arms and smirked at the bartender. Nodding in acknowledgement, Husk replied, “Yeah, I know. You’re a sex worker. Biggest porn star in all of hell.”

Angel pushed up his chest fluff and grinned, his gold fang gleaming in the bar’s lighting. “Ah, a man of taste. Familiar with my work?”

“No comment.” Husk poured the drink into a glass, and garnished it with a maraschino cherry. “Order up.” He held the drink out to Angel, and grabbed a bottle of cheap booze for himself.

“Thanks!” Angel swung his legs around to Husk’s side of the counter and took the drink from his paw. “Hey, you can be honest with me. I don’t judge. I mean, my early work was a little rough, but if that’s how you li-”

“Enough sex jokes!” Husk snarled. “I made your drink! Now fuck off!”

Angel blew air out of the side of his mouth and rolled his eyes, not intimidated in the slightest. “Ya can’t get rid of me that easily. I said I’d leave after I finished my drink, remember? A deal’s a deal.” He took a sip and winked at Husk over the rim of the glass. Husk just shook his head in defeat. “I’m not in the mood to argue with you, so stay if you want to. I don’t really give two shits anymore.” He sighed and sipped more of his booze. “Why do you wanna talk to me, anyway?” “Aside from the fact that you’re hot as fuck, you fascinate me, Huskie.” Angel paused to sip his cocktail, then threw Husk a curveball. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Husk hopped up on the counter beside Angel, keeping a safe distance away. “Today? Yeah, I’ll say. I love being fucked with by that antlered asshole.”

“Nah, not with Alastor. I mean, like, entirely. When you get around like I do, ya get pretty good at reading other demons. You’re a drinker. And when you’re a drinker, there’s usually a reason behind it.”

Husk didn’t reply.

“Listen, I didn’t have the best life, and my afterlife ain’t so hot, either. I mean, look at me. I came from an abusive family, died, and I’m still gettin’ abused.” He paused again to take a sip of his drink. “It gets exhausting, never being good enough. Y’know?” Angel inched just the tiniest bit closer to Husk, who couldn’t tell whether or not it was intentional.

“Sure.” Husk scooted away and took another swig of his drink. God, when is this asshole going to leave me alone for the night?

Angel smoothed back his fluffy white hair. “Anyway, that’s partly why I’m here. I’ve been through a lotta shit, like you, and I feel like helpin’ Charlie is a step in the right direction. Just cuz my afterlife sucks doesn’t mean hers should, too. Guess I’m a people-pleaser.”

“With a job like yours, you have to be.”

“No shit.” He plucked a cherry from his glass and started munching on it. “I’m doing a crappy job of it, though. Got into a huge turf war today with my best friend. It was a blast. Literally! I blasted so many of those little egg fuckers!” He chuckled, then popped the cherry stem into his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue.

“Yeah, I saw it on the news. That whole thing was a fiasco. At least Pentious got fucked sideways today, thanks to Alastor.” He cringed as soon as the words came out of his mouth. “Never thought I’d thank him for anything.”

Angel halted his stem-tying to state loudly, “I wanna thank him for being a sexy motherfucker!” He raised his glass in a make-believe toast to the Radio Demon, who was currently nowhere to be found.

“Speak for yourself!”

“Mmmmhm!” Angel hummed in agreement, then stuck his tongue out, the expertly-tied cherry stem resting near the tip. “Ta-Da! A perfectly tied thhhtem! Imprethhhhed yet, Huthhhhker?” Spit flew with every “S” he attempted to enunciate. Husk wiped the spit from his face and growled at the spider demon. “I’ll be more impressed if you stop spitting all over me, slut!”

“Okay, buthhhhkill.” Angel carefully removed the stem from his tongue, chuckling at the fact that he’d gotten one final word in. “Just think! With a tongue like this, imagine what I can do to your dick, old timer!” He held the stem out to Husk, as if presenting a valuable gift. “For you!”

Husk smacked it out of his hands. “Get that shit away from me! And wipe your mouth, you’ve got drool all over your lips.”

“You’re zero fun!” Angel grabbed a cocktail napkin and wiped his mouth, then took another sip of his drink.

The pair shared another silent moment before Angel asked, “So what do you think of this place? And rehabilitation and all?”

Husk shrugged. “Too early to say.”

“Eh, fair enough. Who knows, though? This hotel just may be our ticket outta this shithole!” Angel flopped on his back and tipped his head backwards over the side of the counter, giving him an upside-down view of the lobby. He was closer to Husk than ever, but the cat demon didn’t bother to scoot away from him this time. “And wouldn’t that be somethin’?”

“Don’t push your luck.” Husk placed his empty bottle on the counter.

“Hey, you’re a gamblin’ man! You know all about luck-pushing!” Angel looked up at him and smiled. “Don’t ya?”

“I have my moments.” The hint of tenderness between the two demons came to an abrupt end when Husk snapped, “Finish your fucking drink so I can close this place up.”

“With pleasure!” Angel responded, sitting in an upright position, picking up his glass, and downing the rest of the cocktail in one swift gulp. “Ahhh. Not bad. Ever bartend before?”

“None of your concern!”

“Yeesh, so aggressive. And mysterious. Sexy, if you ask me,” Angel purred seductively, walking two fingers toward the cat demon’s crotch. Without a moment’s hesitation, Husk grabbed Angel’s hand and twisted his arm around, causing him to nearly fall off the counter.

“OW! OW! OW! Alright, alright!” Husk let go, and Angel’s arm throbbed painfully. “Damn, who pissed in your cereal?” he asked with a smirk. Aggressive or not, he was still intrigued by the new bartender.

“You, currently. Now get lost, will ya?”

“Fine!” Angel pouted for a moment, then hopped off the counter and glanced over his shoulder cheekily. “So, same time tomorrow?” He blew Husk a kiss, reminiscent of the one he had blown him earlier after Pentious’s defeat.

Husk growled playfully, hopped off the counter, grabbed his empty bottle, and chased after Angel with his arm raised, threatening to throw it at him.

Angel yelped and ran back to his room, laughing. “G’night, hot stuff!”

“Yeah, get fucked!” Husk yelled after him, then chuckled lightly to himself. He had to admit, if Angel hadn’t stopped by for a drink, the night wouldn’t have been nearly as interesting. He turned to walk back to the bar, only to see Alastor standing there, grinning at him. Husk’s faint smile quickly turned into a scowl. “And what the hell do you want?”

Alastor’s voice crackled to life in its usual static, showy and flamboyant. “My little Husker is already making friends, on his first evening on the job!” Al mocked, faux tears pooling in his eyes, his trademark smile staying put. “Ohh, they grow up so fast!” He whipped out a red pinstriped handkerchief and blew his nose with a trumpet-esque blare.

Husk wrinkled his nose in disgust. “For your information, I’m not making friends. And even if I were, why the fuck do you care?” “Forgive me for expressing interest in the well-being of one of my favorite demons in this godforsaken cesspool,” Alastor replied snarkily, tucking away the handkerchief and wrapping up the act.

Husk scoffed, not buying it in the slightest, and went back behind the bar to work. He bent to pick up Angel’s abandoned cherry stem, staring at it for a moment before making the decision to throw it in the trash.

The Radio Demon manifested his cane and casually leaned against it for support, looking Husk up and down as the cat demon made the bar area look more presentable. “So, my friend, you seem to be adjusting well, despite your initial refusal to help.” Husk mopped the counter off with a rag, not making eye contact. “Not that it’s your business.” Alastor’s ever-present smile widened and he replied with, “I suppose not. But as an official employee, your business is now the business of the business! Ahahaha!”

“Ah, shove it up your ass.”

Al chuckled, unfazed. “I’d rather not! Ah, I missed that charming, friendly voice. It’s wonderful that you decided to join the Princess’s little passion project. The more the merrier, I always say.” He reached a hand over the counter and teasingly pinched one of Husk’s fuzzy, white cheeks. Husk swatted Al’s hand away and raised one of his long eyebrows. “That reminds me… why the hell are YOU here? You never-”

A long finger was delicately placed against the cat’s lips, interrupting him mid-sentence. “Ah-ah-ah, Husker,” Al replied, his voice dropping to a charming-yet-threatening lower pitch. “You know better than to question my motives.” He turned to walk away, hands behind his back, his cheerful tone returning. “Besides, you know that I would never turn down an opportunity to be entertained.” Husk flicked his tail in annoyance. “I have better things to do than run a bar for a bunch of namby-pamby demons who would rather be up in heaven, sucking up.” Alastor was silent for a moment, then he glanced over his shoulder and asked in an eerie voice, “Do you, though?”

Husk found himself pondering this unexpected question as Alastor said brightly, “Well, sleep well, treasured bartender!” and snapped himself away for the night.

Suddenly finding himself alone at the hotel bar, Husk decided it was bedtime for him, too. Working at the Happy Hotel would be a change, for better or worse. And one thing was certain: Angel Dust was here to stay. (Thanks for reading! ^_^ Okay to reblog or comment)

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk #alastor #huskerdust #drunk dust #angel x husk #fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic

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goth-girlfriend · 3 years

Note

Heyy could I get a matchup please? I’m a pansexual non binary person excepting and loving to all, I have short black hair and I am 5’1. Tbh I’m more interested in the 1A boys but I do love all the pro hero’s and the villains too. I can be shy at first but once you get to know me I can be very chaotic and alt. I’m very open minded and understanding no matter what your situation is and I am very patient, I rarely get angry. I also do a lot of art from pairing to potter and photography, I love to try new things. I also love your work so much and I hope your doing well 💕

Thank you! 🥰 It means a lot! I hope your doing week in this time ☺️💙 sorry it took over a month 😅 but! I’ll make it up to you! And! The other four waiting....and the few in my inbox! Well! I hope you like it!

✨✨✨✨🤍✨✨✨✨🤍✨✨✨✨

✨Denki✨

Kaminari, you wouldn’t think five inches is enough for him to look down and bully you about your height. But...honestly? You couldn’t be mad at it considering it’s what made your friendship with the blonde bloom.

Then again, when you first met him you were kind of a wreck and didn’t have the guts to tell him, “I’m not an arm rest stop leaning on my shoulder.” Instead you let it be, fidgeting fingers and looking ahead until her smiled brightly at you, “SHORT FRIENDS ARE GREAT!” he looked down at you eyes closed, “I should keep you around more.”

Well, after that you were adopted by, THE BAKUSQUAD! Bakugo not really caring, but when Kirishima and Denki followed him around he always made sure to grab you and drag you with them, because “I WAS SCARED AND PANICKED! I DIDN’T WANNA BE ALONE!”

So, for the first and second week he treated you like a quiet kid, mostly starting conversation until you got into a comfortable groove, and he almost died seeing how you really turned out. YOU started to bully him, when he entered his short circuit, the jokes you made, but still, you took care of him making sure he didn’t get into trouble or hurt. At times you’d become a bit impulsive and your chaotic side came out.

“MOVE! IM GONNA DO IT!” You screamed “Y/n! NO! I LIKE YOU BETTER ALIVE!” He screamed. Silence, you moved your head, trying to pull back, but no luck, your eyes moved in panic looking at Denki, his own eyes wide before he started laughing. You tried to move your head regretting it instantly. Your right hand came up, forefinger and thumb pulling at your tongue that was now stuck to the pole you had made victim to your weird antics. “mm thuck.”

you have great goofy moments together, but the moment he hears Bakugo screaming and silence, and then he hears you screaming? Hah, no. All relations are canceled/expired/rejected/blocked/denied/gone. He likes being alive, and right now, you were a threat to his life, so “Oh, uh yeah I got a thing to do in the other ro-“ RUN

he’s more than great full to have you around, your patient with him when he just can’t do something but he’s determined to. Like the month he dragged you of the dorms every night, because “IM GOING TO GET THROUGH THIS HAUNTED HOUSE WITHOUT SCREAMING.” The haunted house opened the first of October, and ended on Halloween, it was terrible, at one point he passed out, another frothed at the mouth, his screams were priceless, he clung to you more than a few times crying about being scared. Decked a few jump scare people, and at least twice went into Pikachu self defense mode and electrocuted the groups of workers around the two of you at least twice. Honestly, you were surprised they let you both keep coming back. But the last day, he managed to only let out squeaks and squeeze your arm and hands but he did it. Thirty one long nights of walking the same halls, jump scares, and voids, mesmerizing the right way of the maze, you mad wit out fine, he was only slightly shook.

Art? Denki doesn’t get it, claimed he can’t draw to save his life and when you watched him try you believed him, BUT THE COMPLETE AND UTTER SHOCK WHEN YOU FOUND OUT HE WAS BASICALLY AN ART MAJOR WHEN HE SHORT CIRCUITED..... you started saving his drawings and sketches, and then you’d show him and he’d be impressed, but completely denies that he ever did it. “Nope, you got the wrong guy, you’ve seen me, I can’t draw a circle.” But he loves to watch you paint, and take photos, but don’t take him to wildlife sets with you. He will get hired of waiting for birds and throw himself on the grass and start sighing loudly and rolling around, “Nothings coming y/n!” “MAYBE IF YOU SHUT UP THE BIRDS WOULDNT FLY AWAY LIKE ITS THE END OF THE WORLD!” Silence, you can definitely feel him staring you, “Well that’s just rude.... you scared off the only bird that was actually here.” Pottery? He watched you, and he wanted to try, the first time he ended up slinging clay everywhere, second he can’t keep his hands still enough, the third time you took pity and ended up like the cheesiest movie scene, but, you were behind him guiding his hands, he became a flustered mess and crushed the almost pot when you spoke to him and he felt your breath on his shoulder. He was blushing and flustered and then started apologizing for ruining the pot... in the end you both together did make a lopsided pot, it now sits in your room, home to your shared black prince succulent. When you brought it home he made anyone who would listen come see his first pot and new child.

⚡️✨✨⚡️⚡️✨⚡️⚡️⚡️✨⚡️⚡️✨✨⚡️

“Y/n?” You heard knocking and groaned getting up off your bed to open your door.

“I brought someone else to meet prince...” the look you gave him was one of ‘Are you sERIOUS?’

You closed your door a bit to look at the digital clock that was hanging just above your desk, 1:37 in the morning...

“It couldn’t wait till sun up?” You asked eyes kinda squinty as the hall light started to flood into your room now that you opened the door wider to let whoever in.

“It’s important everyone knows my new son!” He stepped in and you moved and plopped onto your desk chair.

“Alright, but be careful, you bruised one of his petals last time.” You stretched and looked at your abandoned school work, you looked at it reading the question you had struggled on, and by some miracle, being half groggy and half awake, you read it and the answer came to you. You started to write it down before you forgot. And you were so proud of yourself, until you heard the feminine voice.

“Kaminari, you’re an idiot.” And then a slightly muffled laugh.

You didn’t have a problem with Jiro, in fact you liked her as a friend, she was nice, had good taste in music, bullied Denki with you sometimes, friendly and you’ve never seen her angry or get snobbish with anyone. She was laid back and cool.

But, one thing you didn’t like, was the fact she was slowly becoming the center of Denki’s flirting. Jealous? Nahh....well....no.... maybe a little? Nope, nah that’s not it.......okay yeah.

“Y/n Chan! Jiro is bullying me.” He came and shook you by your shoulders pulling you from staring at your school work.

You turned your head to look up at him. “What?” You asked.

“She called me an idiot.” He pouted and closed his eyes.

You laughed and dropped a hand onto his head, after he kneeled to plead you defend him, “Oh Denki, if you want me to disagree it’s gonna be a long night.”

He pouted at your words but sighed in defeat, until the next words came, “So (y/n), if Denki’s son is in your room does that make you the mother of his son?”

You looked at Jiro a faint blush tinting your cheeks as you registered what she said. You gave a few quiet laughs but before you could say anything Denki became a stuttering flustered mess. Catching both of you and pulling you both out of the conversation that almost started.

“Well! (Y/n)! Well go! A Princess does need her beauty sleep!” He winked at you as he left in a hurry, Jiro just quirked a brow before she told you good night and you returned it as she left. You yawned and got back into bed, before your phone buzzed and you cursed, but the blush on your cheeks wirsned at the flirty text you’d gotten from Denki, you’d think you’d gotten used to it already, but maybe the feelings you thought you’d pushed away never really left the surface.

‘Good night princess 😉 Don’t forget to dream about me 💛’

Cringe yes, but that’s literally the best flirting line he has. Apparently getting comfortable with Denki meant he was comfortable flirting with you 24/7, no hesitation. And you enjoyed the attention and flirted back with him, but things kinda changed when Jiro started to give him attention too.

******

“Mornin’ babe,” you yawned at Denki’s greeting and gave a wave and small smile as you walked to a table and plopped down. You didn’t get much sleep, you finished your homework so now you had the weekend free, but what were you going to do? You stared at the empty table in front of you thinking about nothing, head empty, until Mina came and sat across from you, “So babe huh? Is it official!” She whisper screamed.

“Pfft, just about as official as me being All Might.” You had a small smile, small but genuine. “Boooooooo.” She pouted, “I have my own theories but I really want to tell you this one, soooo! Bakusquad girls day! But... just you and I. Get ready let’s go!”

So, after deciding you’d buy something to eat instead of cooking you got ready and then both you and Mina set off to talk theories and what’s really going on in her head. “So, I think he wants something serious but since you guys joke so much I think he thinks he’s in the friend zone and don’t even deny it I know you like him, I’ve seen the way you smile at all his stupid jokes even I don’t laugh at all of them and I try to be nice. Plus the way you loook a Jiro is enough to show your jealous but he doesn’t see that, I’m pretty sure he thinks you just don’t like her humor or something, but from what I’ve seen your good friends with her when Denki isn’t around so that lets me believe your jealous of his attention going to someone else. Soooo, what do you say? What do you think? And I think he’s trying with Jiro because you guys kinda have similar personalities and hair cuts? Well not really but you know? When your in love you call broccoli Midoriya and a grenade Bakugo but that’s a different story, so? What do you think?” You just stared at her, the takoyaki had with your toothpick just to far from your lips as you wondered if she was right. A shot smile pulled at your lips as you looked down and closed your eyes to let out a sigh, “Well, I won’t say your wrong, I’ve done lot of things but being in denial has never been one of them. I’m not going to confess or anything but I do have one question.” You looked at Mina through the corner of your eyes while your face was still pointed to the ground. “Yes!” She cheered and nodded looking at you with a big smile, “If this is about a plan I’ve got it all figured out so don’t worry!”

You shook your head and faced her completely, “Nope! Keep the plan well use it later but, if I do something about this Denki thing you have to so something about tape boy.” Mina became flustered at your words but nodded, “well, your first lady she smacked you back causing you to slightly choke on the Takoyaki you’d finally started to eat, after catching your breath and wondering around for a bit you both talked it out and it’s go time.

****

The next morning you started the plan (titled by Mina) “Seducing Pikachu” Taking a deep breath you readied yourself to take your flirting next level, he called you babe you had to call him daddy, he gave you a hug you pulled his face down to peck his cheek, he draped an arm over your shoulders you had snuggle closer and hug his waist, he tried to tease you by taking your hand you can’t pull away, in stead you interlock fingers and squeeze, if he leaned into your ear to whisper something you can’t push him away. And we’re you ready? No, in fact you felt queasy, and like you had to bathroom, but with a shove from Mina you entered the kitchen and like usual “Good morning babe!” And the usual flirty wink, but this time instead of getting flustered or yawing you locked eye contact and with everything you had, “Mornin Daddy.” You smiled at him and walked to the fridge to try and occupy yourself. In the background you heard Mineta screaming about the name daddy. You looked at Denki with the same smile after grabbing a juice and he was flustered, red cheeks and it looked like his hair had fluffed up a bit. It’s working! You waved at him and walked to the common room and sat down on one edge and looked at the tv, it was playing some show about volleyball. Jiro came and sat across from you on the other sofa joining you and a few others in watching this show, right now, the only empty seats are the spot next to you on the love seat, or the two seats beside Jiro. He sat by you and was strangely quiet, oh gave him a smile when he turned to look a you, he smiled and looked at the tv, after an hour or two your hands began fiddling with the juice in your lap and you felt a tug at your hand, you felt Denki place his hand on yours usually you’d pull away and punch his shoulder, but this time. You didn’t take your eyes of the tv when your intertwined your fingers and squeezed his hand. You brought your other hand and squeezed his hand between both of yours and snuggled closer to his side and laid your head against his shoulder, he tensed a bit then relaxed quickly. He laid his head on yours and you eyed Mina real quick, you gave you a thumbs up and you motioned to Sero with your eyes and she stopped and pouted. After another hour you started to get up and pull away from Denki. You felt a hand pull at yours and you looked at Denki, “Where are you going?” You titled your head, “Gonna go buy lunch maybe.” He looked up at you still holding your hand, “Don’t leave me.” He said, “Come with me then.” You gave his arm a tug and without second thought he jumped up outside you were cool, but inside, you were going ballistic, inside you were nothing like usual, you were honestly so surprised that this plan was working, with your attention he didn’t even pay attention to Jiro,,,, were you really jealous?

Getting to a ramen place you both sat down and filled our sheets with your orders, casually sitting in silence your phone dinged, “So.... did he confess? Or do women really have to do all the work, 🙄, Sero didn’t understand what I meant until I- never mind, how’s it going?”

You smiled at the message and shook your head.

Denki being curious why you were smiling tried to peek, “Mina is trying to confess to Sero and she says he’s an idiot.” You smiled and turned to Denki explaining before he could see.

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna say anything sometimes Sero isn’t the smartest.”

You felt a smile pulling at your lips, “Yeah, I know someone else who is just the same.” You propped your elbows on the table and placed your chin on your palms. He did the same and pushed his cheeks so they looked chubby against his palms.

“Kaminari,” you called his name in a chirpy tune with a smile, he closed his eyes and smiled before he said your name in the same way.

****

“How good are you at noticing small things?” I asked and tilted my head. “Hmmm, did you grow out your hair?” His head tilted, and he smiled.

“No? It’s been this short for a while.” I dropped my arms flat against the table palms up, “try again.”

“Yooouuuu,,,, are wearing contacts?” He asked. “I’m not blind.”

“Yoouuuuu.....are trying a different Boba?” “No... well yes, but not what I’m talking about......try one more time and I’ll give you a hint if you can’t guess.”

He nodded and squinted at me looking like he was concentrating hard.

“I know!” He took my hands in his and squeezed them, I felt my heart start to race, “You’re fingers are cold, the tips are turning reddish.”

I smiled and looked away and licked my top lip trying to not laugh, “That wasn’t it but a good guess.”

“Then what is it?” He asked pouting.

“Close your eyes.” I said and waved a hand, he nodded and then closed them, I placed my finger tips on the left side of his jaw and tried to pull him closer, after getting him halfway across the table I leaned forward and lightly pressed my lips against his cheek.

I pulled away, and moved my hand away from his jaw.

“I...so think you should try again, I didn’t get the hint.” He looked away with a bush slowly becoming prominent on his cheek.

I smiled and shook my head, silence fell over us as I shifted around, “Another hint huh?”

“Maybe just one... or two... or a few....” he still didn’t look at me hands now fiddling together.

“You know, for a flirt you sure do get nervous when someone actually makes a move on you.”

“Heh, yeah.” He was smiling but not looking at me, “Sooo, when?”

“Do you remember the day, you got sick and made me baby you for a whole week? It was that Thursday, you feel asleep on my chest, and I held you and had to pull the blanket off, I realized then, how much I cared about you, and how much I’m willing to do to make sure you’re okay. I realized how much I love your terrible jokes and cheesy pick up lines, your warm hugs and the face times late into the night, and the movie nights passing out at three in the morning and rushing to class when we woke up late. Holing your hand when you were scared, and bullying Bakugo, honestly, I wouldn’t wanna die at the hands of Bakugo with anyone else. I’m not saying I love you or anything, but if this is what falling for someone feels like...I don’t not like it, especially when it’s you.” I looked out the window we sat by and could feel his stare, I looked at him through the corner of my eye.

“I wouldn’t want to be murdered with anyone else.” He held his hand out and I tilted my head to look at him, I took placed my hand on his and he smiled, before he shifted his fingers and closed them around mine. I smiled and closed my fingers squeezing his hand.

“So? Are you going to ask?” He said.

I felt my brows furrow, “Ask?”

“Ask me to be your boyfriend.” His smile widened.

“You’re supposed to ask me!” I scolded and shook our hands.

He tucked his head between his shoulders, “okay okay, fine.... now you’re going to wait because you yelled at me.”

***

“Y/n!” I turned to look for the person who called my name, “yeah?” I asked and pulled my blanket tighter, the Christmas season was here and I was freezing on the sofa.

“Come look! The snows falling again! And the it’s pretty on the blossoms that are still around.”

“Fine.” I grumbled and stood up, I walked to the second floor windows and looked out. Sero, Denki, Kirishima and Bakugo were all outside, I could hear Katsuki screaming at them while the ran around dropping things on the floor.

They all stopped and moved away as Bakugo screamed at them and took off his gloves, it looked like he was grumbling something until Denki slung an arm I’ve this shoulders, Bakugo brought up his hand causing sparks and Denki to smile nervously before patting his shoulder and moving his arm off.

Mina tapped on the window and they looked at us, we waved when three of the four waved. Denki turned to Bakugo and with a simple blast a chain reaction started and lit up a circle, inside the circle were the words made in very sparse but still pretty blossoms, “will u be mine?” Your phone began to ring and you answered it.

“So, after two months of non official dating, will you be mine?”

You smiled, “Yes, Kaminari, yes.” You swallowed and over the phone you heard cheering and watched to em high five minus Bakugo who was pulling his gloves back on. That night, you spent under the blue keys you two piled high, his head on your chest, and you kissed his head running your fingers through his hair, “I love listening to your heart, it’s pretty, like you.” Your take his face in your hands and kiss his lips or forehead, and eventually would change spots, still cuddling to keep the warmth and love between you while the rest of the world was slipping into sleep or madness.

✨🤍🖤🤍🤍💙🤍🤍🖤🤍✨

I hope you have a good day, and remember to stay hydrated 💙

#buko no hero academia #my hero academia #mha denki kaminari #mha denki #bnha denki kaminari #bnha denki #bnha matchup #mha matchup #bnha ask blog #mha ask blog #bnha ask #mha ask #bnha blog #mha blog #bnha #mha #bnha kaminari #mha kaminari

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beigejournals · 4 years

Text

Season 5 Lucifer

welcome to my unsolicited thoughts about Season 5 of Lucifer.

as an avid and veteran series binger AND a talker-while-watching-a-movie-or-series-but-does-not-want-to-spoil-anything-for-my-friends type of person, i have finally dedicated a space and found a good way to let all my thoughts out as i watch a movie or series when i am alone when i can’t bother a lot of people because (1) they don’t want to be bothered and (2) i don’t want to spoil things for them.

so here are my thoughts, and of course, SPOILERS AHEAD.

BTW, i LOVED all of Lucifer! but this season was a slow burn for me.

ep1

drug scene at Lux; is Amenadiel mean now?

so is Lucifer himself in his own hell loop when he became the ruler of hell? his own guilt towards his father? idk (to be frank, i don’t remember the past episodes except for the fact that he is now back in hell)

the premise of the first episode is cute!

side note after the title card: i remember how much i loved the soundtrack for Lucifer!

Maze is still hot.

I love how Maze and Chloe’s relationship developed and how they don’t have to use words to communicate.

Amenadiel’s and the Psychologist’s house HAHAHAHA i love it.

is Charlie Jesus? His mom’s faith in front of Ella is like every mom plus every religious person ever haha

YES. ELLA. YOU. DESERVE. A. GOOD. GUY.

self-improvement is now a meme, huh?

Dan is me.

comment on drug scene: Amenadiel is still the same, haha!

Maze and the card, haha!

how was the guy in the mask face (did i just say mask face?) blurred but in the party, Los Angeles was in perfect accuracy. excuse me.

coming out of the dead: “oh sorry, that’s so gross!” LORDT HAHA

love you, Charlie! hope you don’t feel like you have to perform because your mom expects a lot from you and that’s so ironic because she’s a psychologist!

Dan’s speeches about parenting: i get it tho, parents try to love their child, sometimes, they just don’t know how

also, i think it’s the sister but Chloe’s just a softie

lol Maze is jealous that Chloe got to talk to Lucifer and trying to say that they don’t need Lucifer.

OOF MAZE.

i forgot about what happened with Eve.

GUYS THE MURDERER IS LITERALLY GOING TO ESCAPE.

the amount of projection as defense mechanism in this episode is too much it feels like it’s too on the nose.

but i do love the parallel between what’s happening on Earth and in hell.

the amount of layers in this question either it’s Lucifer’s or his or his sister’s (assuming it is his sister who was behind his murder)

ok apparently it’s not his sister.

me in law school:

sana all kaya kang mahalin na babalik from hell. kilig aq.

also, after all these years, Lucifer’s house has been so clean!!! wala man lang alikabok

if she’ll be fine without him then who tf is that?

ok i read the synopsis for the next couple of episodes. i don’t like spoilers. don’t make the same mistake.

ep2

i’m Ella when it comes to my friends’ special people HAHA

also, i love the slight lean to one side to show us that this is not the real Lucifer.

why does he have to be naked???

it’s so funny for me how they have to reestablish him. LUCIFER NEVER LIES HAHAHAHAHA yes we can remember now after you repeated it 3x.

ALSO WHY IS EVERYTHING TO ON THE NOSE. EVERY SECOND IS A METAPHOR FOR SOMETHING. was it always like this?

Oh Michael. Nice. Was he an archer? We love the American accent.

how can Amenadiel not know that was Michael? GANON KA IDENTICAL SIZ?

we love the unnecessary car chase just to reinstate the fact that this is a crime show

that slomo with the wings!!!

also everything is so slow with this show!!! idk why but everything feels just a little bit slower (or maybe i just want lucifer and chloe to be together? idk)

gwapo ni lucifer nung nagmomol sila ni Maze pls

cringe ng elevator scene

ykw. i think it’s because i like the lucifer character that’s why i’m impatient. he hasn’t been appearing the way i want him to.

see. you don’t have to remind me so much about the show because i know he was supposed to say “what is it that you truly desire” not fear. I FEEL LIKE THIS SEASON IS DUMBING THE PEOPLE WHO LOVED THE SHOW FOR SO LONG. okay sige.

either she knows it’s not him or SHE’S REALLY THAT NICE AND POWERFUL OF A HUMAN BEING.

oh i’ve been questioning whether they had sex already and this episode answered my question

CRINGE coffee scene: the spoon???

random question: are angels virgins? so is Michael a virgin?

what kind of a person would just go deep on someone else’s pocket just because they ran out of money?

knew it Maze won’t do Chloe dirty like that!

thanks Chloe. u know better than that. (full disclosure: I THOUGHT SHE WAS ACTING BADLY APPARENTLY A GOOD ACTOR CAN ACT BADLY TO PROVE A POINT?)

literally just liked it and now there’s a new secret that was said too soon.

God baka naman pwede mo ko gawing Chloe Decker char.

AH so interesting. Lucifer = Desire. Michael = Fear. Too on the nose again but that time, i needed the guidance because i am a dumbass.

God ain’t raising his children right!

ep3

yes explain everything to me it’s literally not like we have been binging this show for 2 hours straight

see, the Lucifer character is really endearing. i’m enjoying myself again hahaha. (well, i guess Lucifer when he’s with Chloe?)

can i just say that Tom Ellis was born for that role. he fits is so well that him acting as his own twin doesn’t sit well with me.

i just feel like this show was written by a psychologist who liked watching murder shows.

it’s Lucifer, Chloe!!! siya yon.

ep4

love Lucifer-Chloe tandem!

we love how the actors can sing and the show gives them a chance...

one thought: is everyone going to play a double of who they are?

also is Maze the daughter of Lucifer?

i love how they’re transcending mediums, reminds me of Community with their random episodes.

there you go, Chloe’s doing the double acting too.

Now it’s Linda. (so maybe this is the episode i was asking about earlier).

Now it’s Ella.

omg is this why i loved fleabag, it took forever for the Priest and Fleabag to finally do it? no. i just love the Priest.

Charlotte’s back! and the distance from the table shows how not okay they are. okay.

green screen while driving i love it.

now, Daniel!

we love gender fluidity? i guess. i’m not sure how you call it but i appreciate.

Lilith’s dress for the second song. OMG.

there again to make us dumb. after we just watched the whole thing happen, they retell the whole story again. damn. they think we dumb.

literally this season is making every girl kiss Chloe.

why did she blow the ring? was that her life?

what’s that song in the end?

OH that was the reason why she was retelling everything.

damn celestial beings are the worst parents.

ep5

i wanna be Dr. Linda Martin please.

i appreciate Lucifer wearing the bracelet until now. (but i expected nothing less)

i’ve always loved how people reacted to Amenadiel. he always seemed nerdy but these are times where he truly shine and im so happy.

i forgot. i think i was showering that time that Michael and Lucifer fought and theyre hella dumb. ok lets go toxic masculinity mixed with daddy issues.

i know they’re too on the nose ABOUT EVERYTHING but i do like the debate about free will and predestination

honestly i don’t know what’s Chloe’s issue is with being made by God probably just because i’m lazy and i just want to lay everything in His hands but coming from a very atheistic perspective where she comes from i kinda get it. i guess my only reasoning why i’m okay with God’s reason is with her is because of my fear of the unknown; my current fear with not knowing my true purpose. at least she got hers! what is she complaining about?

oh i get it now, but that’s why there’s free will Chloe (or idk, idk how God works; there’s currently no electricity in my house rn. i don’t get how that works even if we pay for our electricity all the time, how am I suppose to know God’s plans?)

but aren’t well created for something else? looking at a selfish perspective, maybe He created all of us just because He wanted to.

wow. literally when the nun kissed Amenadiel, the lights in our house opened up. if that ain’t God. idk who that is.

wow that’s so interesting.

“There are no shortcuts.” 🥺

he exposed himself i’m interested. what if i were the one to whom that was exposed to... how would i react?

another sample of them explaining to us WHAT WE ALREADY CAN INFER FROM THE SHOW (the conversation actually continues to dumb it down for the audience) but i get it. it’s religion and fiction built together.

oh i just cringed i almost vomited with this

also can i just share these. these are the funniest thing Chloe said on the show.

ep6

OOF what a horrifying way to start the episode (after the beach fiasco)

they’re holding us. that’s so adorable!!!

ugh. im still cringing.

yes jowa for ella yes pls. ELLA YOU SAID YOU WANT A NICE GUY!!! HE’S THERE!!! i’ll take him if you won’t!

Chloe if you don’t want Lucifer, i’ll take him too!

can i say how proud i am of Chloe and Dan’s relationship. it’s very healthy for what they are. add Lucifer and Dan to that too! we love men.

also the women in this show have bad taste in men. (except for who Linda married, i guess)

we love the seasonal girl’s night!

that whole charlie thing being amused by lucifer’s devil face is the best bit

was it Michael calling? and oh noooo ;(

FUCKEN MICHAEL

ngl i could have waited for another season for them to have sex on season 6 episode 6 but sure have it at season 5.

ep7

we love a person who wakes up and is not pretty. princess anna who? (i mean she is wearing full on make up, but we’re okay with that snore)

Deckerstar!! they made a word for it

our mojo??? does it only work on lucifer or does it work when she does it to others as well, we shall find out.

oh no! Lucifer’s isn’t working at all HAHAHAHA

it’s currently 2:19 AM. i am tired and sleepy.

Dan talking to Charlotte 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Fucking Michael

oh he emphasized archangel Michael. with my limited knowledge being raised Catholic, i was going to ask earlier if he was an archer because he had crooked shoulders. AND I JUST CHECKED. ARCHANGEL MEANS HIGH RANKING ANGEL NOT AN ANGEL WHO’S A FUCKING ARCHER. me being raised Cathlolic means nothing. HAHAHH

now i’m realizing if i see an angel, maybe i won’t be in the situation where i’ll see Amenadiel but Michael

NO NO NO AMENADIEL

i love this HAHAHAHAHA

knew it. called it! worked on lucifer ONLY. HOW CAN TWO PEOPLE BE THAT MADE FOR EACH OTHER. LORD BAKA NAMAN.

i’m ella shipping them.

THEYRE SPEAKING TAGALOG HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH and HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

what song was that? “When it hurts, just to breathe” same

The Shining reference no thank you pls

NAAAH i really can’t do horror things especially not with things i truly fear and when i don’t have a curtain on. No thanks.

14:54 and i’m watching again open the lights bro, it’s easier to find clues that way also i do get that they’re closing it to ensure that the killer is not there but theyre also moving like the killer is not there anyway so better open up the lights! tho i really know nothing about crime solving (i just typed crime solving instead of solving crimes didn’t i)

we stan ella’s healthy relationship!!!

can i just say there was a time where i can’t even say serial killer out loud so this is really hard for me to watch alone

i know that he’s vulnerable around the detective. BUT SHE SAID HE CHOSE TO BE SO BY NOW HE SHOULDN’T BE AFFECTED BY WHAT HE DID.

Fucken Michael.

ep8

how attractive can you be that even in slow motion, you look great.

oh apparently he did not die.

ALSO OO NGA CHLOE. US2 MO SIYA MAMATAY TEH.

CHLOE THE OVERTHINKER but i get it. BUT STILL.

you know that montage of people just studying and it’s now happening to chloe trying to solve a crime. that’s my cinematography goal HAHAHA. it’s been awhile since i’ve been invested in studying like that.

Lucifer can be just so immature some times

is KillShare based off of SkillShare?

also i’m thinking that Chloe was either taken by Michael or Dan or the SK.

that ring of Lucifer on Maze is probably the longest ring someone has waited for.

i love Maze’s eye make up! ALL THE TIME!

if the lady here is not detective and they’re relieved. that’s just fucked up, man. they were slightly relieved. that’s good acting HAHAHAHAHA.

I’M JUST PRAYING TO GOD THAT PETE REALLY IS A GOOD GUY AND NOT THE SERIAL KILLER COZ I CAN’T HATE THAT GUY PLEASE. the key and the research!!! WTF. stop trying to be smart, show!!!

his mojo is back, does that mean Chloe is gone? 😢

OH AFTER THE TAPES, I THINK IT IS THE BOYFRIEND. DAMN SHE’S REALLY INTO BAD MEN, ISN’T SHE?

I’M SO SCARED. THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME.

THE FLOWERS ARE FRIGGIN KILLING ME.

kamukha niya pa si Penn Badgley, nice.

DOES HE GENUINELY LIKE HER OR IS THE KISS TO THROW HER OFF GUARD.

AH NO. i think he genuinely likes her. except that she... you know found that he’s a fucking murderer

HAHAHA PETE

right??? why does this show have to say everything out loud like don’t already know.

oh he just used her but then he liked her. idk. the way he speaks too, so nonchalant.

preach, ELLA!!!! shout out to those who had crappy childhoods and are not serial killers! that’s the bare minimum i guess.

go, Ella!!! know your worth!

lol made me love Pete, he’s funny.

ok my assumptions were right-ish.

HAHAHA, his american accent.

his choosing to be bot vulnerable around her anymore, Michael, i think is a way of him staying alive for Chloe but ofc Chloe will think that Lucifer would rather have his vulnerability than to be with her.

baka di lang love language ni Lucifer words of affirmation, okay! HE SAVED HER LIFE SO MANY TIMES AND NOW SHE’S DOUBTING BECAUSE HE HASN’T SAID I LOVE YOU YET??? SIZ. HE LITERALLY LEFT HELL FOR YOU.

MICHAEL STOP. Michael the shit stirrer. we all have that one friend.

awa me kay Maze. she’s like a lost dog throughout the show.

does Michael want to be God?

skipped thru the speech. cringe.

what’s Amenadiel’s problem with his child having a normal cold? what’s wrong if he’s a mere mortal?

WHY IS EVERYONE IN THIS SHO’W SO INSECURE. i get so annoyed every time Chloe’s mad that Lucifer doesn’t get what he wants

it’s just that i resonate with Lucifer. it’s hard for me to say i love you and now i think Amenadiel stopped time.

oh. i thought Amenadiel’s fears about Charlie being mortal was superficial, i just realized that he was afraid that his child was going to die. but, he can take him to heaven like what he did with Charlotte, right?

oh Michael.

MAZE! MICHAEL IS A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR!!!! you’re fine! i don’t have a soul either.

celestial beings and their daddy issues and inability to communicate with one another and the desire to fight it out as if that’s the solution

HOTTEST BROTHERS EVER DAMN.

itong si God ngayon lang magpapakita anuna siz.

WHY ISN’T HE PLAYED BY MORGAN FREEMAN BUT OK.

CLIFFHANGER!!! IM MAD.

ep 8 should have been called blueballz tbh

#beigedrafts #lucifer #spoilers

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peterthepark · 5 years

Text

crush culture - [four]

party tattoos

pairing: steve harrington x reader (university & modern!AU)

summary: gold dresses, unspoken kisses, and impulsive decision making are always good starts to the new year.

warnings: strong language, uses of social media & alcohol, pure utter fluff fluff fluff, kissing, mentions of tattoos, bad dancing?

a/n: inspired by party tattoos by dodie :) sorry it’s taken me so long to update. this chapter isn’t long, considering i haven’t been active for some time. but the next chapter makes up for it! thanks for ur patience everyone!

Shelves line up Steve’s peripherals as he pushes the shopping cart. The rolling wheels squeak loudly beneath him while you hum and coo at the quirky party decorations that embellished the aisles. Having never hosted a celebration at your own place before, you had decided to entrust in Steve and his experience with parties to help you out.

Robin and Kate wanted a golden theme for the party, both of them being shockingly specific about the type of decorations you should buy, while they prepare the food and drinks. And now here you are, sitting cross-legged in a shopping cart as Steve hand a pack of gold solo cups to you. You pile it into the rest of the decor: paper plates, those little flag thingies you hang up on walls, white and black balloons, and of course, sparklers that would certainly be Instagram-worthy.

“How ‘bout these, Y/N?” Steve snickers, placing an oversized frame of glasses on his face. With a lopsided grin, he does a playful spin for you. You flick the glasses off his nose, laughing at him as he feigns a look of offense. “Hey! Chill!”

“We’re supposed to be shopping, not messing around, you idiot.” You scoff at him, quirking a brow as he puts the glasses back on the shelf. His hand subconsciously moves to rest on top of yours on the bar of the car; the gesture comes to you easily, and you don’t seem to mind the way his thumb runs over your knuckles.

“Okay, so what’s next on the list?”

The kiss hadn’t been brought up.

Not even once.

And you honestly think that maybe you must’ve dreamt it, seeing as Steve seemed to act like it hadn’t happened it.

The morning after said incident, you awoke to an empty bed and the familiar smell of freshly-brewed coffee. Steve was in the kitchen, speaking to Jonathan in a hushed voice. You didn’t care to eavesdrop, knowing that the conversation seemed to be none of your business. But Steve began acting differently towards you after that. He seemed more open, more comfortable, and happier around you. Yet, no one had the guts to bring up the late-night kiss.

“Steve, is this straight? Does this look straight to you?” You whine, glancing down at him with a frustration expression. The chair wobbles as you lean further to tape the hanging decorations to the wall, and Steve is quick to keep the chair still, not wanting you to fall and hurt yourself. “Does it look okay?”

“Y/N, it looks fine, but you’ve gotta be careful. You’re literally gonna fall.” He says in exasperation, gripping your hand to help you down.

“I just want this to look good. I’ve got King Steve here himself, I’m sure he knows what a good party looks like.” You tease, biting your lip.

Steve cringes at the thought of you knowing about his whole King Steve phase, and he ruffles his hair sheepishly at the smirk on your face. “Okay, who told you about that? Was it Jonathan? Like I know I was a complete dick back then, but man-“

“No, silly. Robin told me. I didn’t know you were such a playboy.” You walk past him, chuckling as he follows after you into the living room. “So, are you gonna tell me all about your whole high school experience or what?” You purr, arranging the fairy lights for the DIY photo booth that you made together.

Steve huffs, hesitant to even tell you about the person he was in high school. “I was such a dumbass back then. You don’t even want to know, Y/N.” He groans, kicking his feet atop of the coffee table.

“You’re also a dumbass now. We were all shitty people in high school, trust me.”

“Oh, really? Do tell.” He probes, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I fucked my chemistry teacher.” You reply nonchalantly, earning a sputtering cough and a loud exclamation of really?! from Steve. “I’m kidding! It’s a joke! I did get into a lot of rumor and drama shit, so I guess my high school life wasn’t as perfect as I try to make it out to be.”

Steve lets out a breath of relief. It’s not that there was anything wrong with you possibly screwing your chemistry teacher, it’s just... he honestly wouldn’t expect it from a sweetheart like you. Then again, sweethearts sometimes have hidden agendas.

He starts to look at the way your jeans hug your thighs and then his eyes skim over the expanse of your hips...

Fuck, dude. Not cool.

“Steve? Did you hear what I just said?”

“Huh?” You laugh at him, rolling your eyes at his dumbfounded stare. He shifts awkwardly on the sofa, and he’s praying that you didn’t see the way he was totally ogling you. Which you did.

He’d be in a treat for later then, because the dress you were planning on wearing was definitely far from anything he’s seen on you wear.

“I said, you should go rest before the party. It doesn’t start till like nine, and it’s only five right now. Maybe you’d want to take a nap or - or get ready or something - I don’t know.” You ramble shyly, setting out a couple bottles of champagne and wine. You look over to him, nearly knocking over the bottles when he licks his lips. Instinctively, he catches the bottle before it rolls onto the ground, blushing alongside you as your hands come in contact with each other.

“You tryin’ to get rid of me already, Y/N?” He smiles, pulling his hand away.

“I’m tryin’ to give you a break before we get blind drunk at this party. Take it or leave it, Harrington.” You nudge his shoulder, sharing a lingering gaze with him before you actually make him go home. “O-okay, for real though, go.”

“Alright! Alright!” He raises his hands up, hesitantly making his way towards the door. “Do I have to?” He turns, before you seriously shoo him away. “Okay, bye. I’ll see you later... Y/N.”

He winks teasingly, then he’s out of your apartment.

You sigh dreamily.

You love it when he says your name.

“It’s just tequila. Y/N, please, c’mon, do it with me!” Robin cackles, shaking your shoulders. The walls of your apartment rumbled as the speakers played music, blasting out throwbacks and current songs alike. Robin had dragged you to the island in the kitchen, expertly lining up half-filled shotglasses on the counter. She bounces on her toes, clasping her hands together as she begs you to take shots with her. “Please! Just this once!”

“Dude, the last time I drank tequila, I lost all control. Do you not remember how wild we got? I’m not putting myself through that again. I swear - Ro, there’s no way-“

Interrupted, Robin bursts into a gasp, spotting a familiar face from the front door. “Steve! Steve!”

She runs out to pull the chestnut-haired boy into the kitchen, holding him by the shoulders as she drags him towards you. His jaw drops slightly when he sees the gold dress hugging your body, and you don’t hesitate to greet him with a grin.

“If Steve takes a tequila shot, will you do it?”

Steve’s face breaks into a smile at Robin’s question, and he gestures at the shotglasses with raised brows. “I can’t say no to that offer. Y/N?”

You take a moment to stare at Steve, recognizing the mischievous glint in his eyes that ultimately causes you to give in.

“Ugh, okay. Yeah. Fine. Tequila.” You wave your hands about, pacing in your heels before you courageously down a shot with Steve. You both groan at the taste, screwing your eyes shut as it burns at your throat and tongue. “Bleh! Ugh, I already feel drunk.”

“Just two more shots.” Steve insists, placing his hand on your arm. He dips his head down to look at you.

“You know what? Who’s to say we were done anyways?” You smirk at him, before you hold out a shot glass for him to drink out of. You unknowingly part your lips as he grips onto your wrist to down the drink, gently pulling your arm away when he’s finished. He wipes his mouth, hissing at the spicy kick.

Parties were boring. Unless you’re blind drunk.

And in this case, parties were fun.

Because well, you’re blind drunk.

The flash of the camera goes off as Kate pulls you into her chest, squishing your cheeks together while Robin comes up behind to sandwich you between them. Classmates and mutual friends alike pile into your shared apartment, easily making conversation or dancing to the music in the living room. The sway of your hips is enough to show the liquid courage that was running through your body as you made your way over to Steve, holding onto his hand to pull him into the makeshift photo booth.

“What are you doing?” He drawls out, raising his eyebrows at you as you stand next to him in front of the backdrop. “Y/N, I look like a mess-“

“You’re hot, Steve. You need to chill out.” You slur, slinging your arm around him as Kate starts taking pictures.

And in the meantime, Steve knows how idiotic he looks in those pictures - mouth open, eyes wide and lips pulling into a smirk as he realizes that you just called him hot. He tries to ignore the way that your face feels against his face as you embrace him tightly and hold up a peace sign.

“Y/N?” Steve asks over the music, nearly shouting. “You look beautiful!”

Your gold dress glimmers under the disco ball that hangs from the ceiling fan, and you forget everything else around you as Steve’s eyes slowly drift down the length of your legs and heels.

“Thanks, Steve.” You reply, blinking up at him hazily. He hesitates for a moment, stepping closer towards you, before Robin quickly whisks you away towards another area of the apartment.

You glance behind you, meeting Steve’s eyes in the growing crowd of people. He raises a glass of beer at you, before he completely disappears in the sea of the party.

“No way. Absolutely no.” Kate groans, clasping her hand over her mouth as her gaze follows yours. “You brought a tattoo artist to the party?”

“More like I paid her to come.” Robin whispers, scratching guiltily at her head. “What? She’s hot! I just - I don’t know she seemed really nice and really sweet and yeah, cute. C’mon, K.” You shake your head at Robin with a smile, taking her hand in yours before giving it a squeeze. “You said you’ve always wanted a tattoo, Y/N?”

“I mean... yes, but... I’m also very drunk right now.” You laugh, rubbing your arms. Robin’s black lipstick tugs up at the corners, and she raises her brows at you with suggestion. “What would I even get?”

The buzzing needle pricks against your skin painfully. You hiss as Gemma puts pressure on your wrist, black ink forming words as she goes on. You shut your eyes, already regretting your decision as you tune out her comforting coos. Kate records you on Snapchat, while Robin laughs drunkenly in the background and praises Gemma for her work.

When she’s finished, you examine the plastic wrap around your wrist, fingertips hovering over the black words as you gasp in awe at it. Kate and Robin gush over it, and you start to become aware of the permanent decision you had just made.

Always indecisive.

Always impulsive.

But never unsure about your feelings for people.

Especially Steve.

After taking a few more drinks to numb the dull pain on your arm, you moved towards the balcony. You step out onto the glass-fenced terrace, shutting the sliding door behind you. Steve turns to glance at you, smile turning into an amazed laugh as you show him the state of your newly-tatted wrist.

“Oh, my god. You did not.” He huffs with unbelief, holding onto your hand as he looks it over. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Only insane when I’m drunk.” You chuckle, shifting from one foot to the other before you put your arms on top of the fence. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“No. No, definitely not.” He answers quickly, waving you off.

“Ooo, I don’t know, Steve. Sounds a little bit like a lie to me.” You push his elbow with yours, burying your nose against your shoulder as you look up at him coyly.

“Okay, maybe I do. But I’m not proud of it. It’s a terrible tattoo, I got it when I was in high school and it’s - it’s stupid.”

“Oh, now you’ve got to show me!” You gasp, pulling on the sleeve of his top as he groans at you. You beg him, promising not to make fun of him in any way shape or form - no matter how stupid the tattoo could’ve been.

So, he preps you a little bit. You mainly think he’s stalling but he claims that he’s just preparing you for the worst. He’s trying to explain himself, yet honestly, you can only hone in on the way he gives you a blushing smile, all while using hand gestures to make light of his point. Fed up, you interrupt him, telling him you don’t quite need an explanation to whatever his damn tattoo even is.

He sighs at you, slumping over jokingly before he decides to untuck his top and tug down the waitband of his jeans to reveal the ink on his hipbone. The tattoo isn’t as bad as you had thought it would be. Steve was simply just overreacting, and maybe self-conscious at the fact that you’d be seeing such a tattoo on him.

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be, Steve.” You smirk, leaning over to look at the tattoo on his hipbone.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.”

“I’m serious! It’s pretty cute.”

The black-inked heart with an arrow through it sits prettily on his fair, flushed skin. It was far from embarrassing, and it was far from a horrible design. You weren’t lying when you said it was cute. It seemed actually... endearing, to have a gentleman like Steve have such a soft-meaningful tattoo in a place where no one could really see it.

“Does it mean anything?” You tilt your head at him, chewing on your lip as he thinks over your question.

“I dunno. Guess I’ve... I don’t know, I guess I’ve always been a - a hopeless romantic? Do those even exist?” He asks aloud, running his clammy palms over his denim-clad thighs. He shrugs, “I’ve always - I’ve always been a little too crazy for love, so whatever, so... it’s a - a fitting tattoo for me, I suppose.” He stares off into the city line, eyes twinkling when he shifts his attention to you. “And what about yours? Any meaning?”

“It’s... it’s open to a lot of things.” You nod.

The words SEE YOU SOON are red with soreness on your skin, healing under the plastic wrap as you carefully let Steve trace over it with his thumb. You can feel his breath against your collarbone as he mindlessly bumps his arm against yours.

“See you soon?”

“I like to think that... people who are - who are meant to be in your life - but leave for whatever reason - are always meant to find a way back to you. It’s just... a lot of people come and go. Especially now. It’d be nice to find a person who’ll stay one day.”

“Deep.” He mumbles, earning a laugh from you. You don’t fail to realize that his hand has slipped into yours, and he holds it over the railing as the chilly Chicago air bites at your skin. “I hope that you’ll find someone who’s willing to stay, Y/N.”

You feel his eyes on you, and without hesitation, you turn your face to look at him. His cheeks are reddened, his cheekbones are accentuated under the moonlight and bright stars, but your more drawn to the way his lips pout together.

“And I hope you find someone who’s just as crazy about love as you are, Steve.” You smile.

He’s about to say something, to ask you a question that he had been longing to ask you for so, so long. But the cheers and drunken chants from the inside call you both back to the living room. The flatscreen TV broadcasts the Ball Drop from NYC, showing the masses of people that had gathered to celebrate the new year. Guests clink their glasses with one another as the countdown hits at the twenty-second mark, and you feel the heightened adrenaline of having a new year approach. Kate and Robin manage to find you, snapping last minute 2019 polaroids in the span of 10 seconds.

“Robin, kiss me!” Kate cackles jokingly, pulling Robin into a rib-crushing hug as they jump around in excitement. You laugh at them, taking your phone to record the moment around you as people begin to count the last few seconds.

Five...

You tuck your phone back into your bag, crossing it over your body as you wrap your arms around your front.

Four...

Steve mimics your posture, but he can’t help but look over at you, waiting for you to pick up on what he was very subtly trying to suggest.

Three...

“Y/N?”

Fuck it.

“Yeah?”

“About that kiss... on - on the night we went ice skating...” He scratches his neck, rambling. “I really - really enjoyed it. And you. Spending time with you.”

“Yeah, me too. I... I had lots of fun and I’m glad that you brought it up because well, I wasn’t sure if I had messed up or something since you weren’t talking about it.”

“Oh! Oh, trust me, you - you did everything perfect.”

Two...

“I did?”

“Yeah, of course. But... but I wanted to ask if... I don’t know if ice-skating counts as a - as a first date but...” He swallows nervously. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Like a real one?”

One...

You step forwards on your heels, cupping Steve’s cheeks in your hands as you kiss him intensely. Your fingers brush over his jaw, and his hands come to rest on the small of your back as he brings you further against him. Party poppers and confetti erupt through the apartment as the clock hits midnight, and you force yourself to pull away from Steve’s lips.

“I’m available next weekend.” You utter, catching your breath.

“Huh?” Steve replies with shaky hands.

You giggle at that, touching his arm. “I meant that I’m available next weekend for our date. If you want to go around that time.” You say to him with blushing cheeks, but never break eye contact.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, me too. I’ll pick you up again. Or we can meet there, whatever you’d prefer.” He smacks his lips together, unintentionally tasting your fruity lipgloss.

“Just text me. And we can plan from there.” You nod, pulling your hand away from him. Before he can say anything else that would embarrass him, Steve excused himself to go make conversation with Jonathan, who seems to have turned up with a few old friends from his hometown.

But at the same time, he couldn’t really focus when all he can see is you across the room, talking animatedly with your gold dress and your high heels and your captivating smile.

And those eyes.

The way you look at him.

The way you give him your undivided attention.

It drives him a bit crazy.

Steve swore that you were just another crush - just another girl who he’d try to get by and probably break up with in the following week after officiating things. But no. You had completely caused him to take a full 360, like literally: when you had hit him with your car, when you offered to bring him coffee, when you said yes to ice skating. He was already entranced by you.

It was supposed to be a crush.

Only a crush.

Nothing more.

But here he was - already falling in love, and he hasn’t even taken out on a proper date.

New year, new beginnings, right?

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington series #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff #x reader #crush culture series

252 notes · View notes

h3adcarsbending · 5 years

Text

pity party • matty healy x reader

Pity Party - M.H.

wc- 2856 or smth like that

The reader, in the midst of a particularly bad day, is dragged along to a party by her boyfriend Matty. But she really doesn’t want to be a burden or ruin his night.

It was a stressful day for poor Y/N, and being dragged along to a party by her boyfriend didn’t help much either. Not like she’d ever let Matty know what was up - she hated burdening him with her problems. She didn’t want to scare him off, now did she? Her curly haired rockstar was the best thing that had ever happened to her. If she lost Matty, who knows what she’d do.

But, anything for him. She would go to the party, pretend to have a good time, and hope for the best, because let’s be honest for a moment… not much could go wrong. Or could it? Oh, shut up with the cliches, will you!

“Love, are you almost ready?” called the boyfriend in question from the living room of their shared Manchester flat.

Y/N sighed apologetically, attempting to quickly gain at least some composure before having to face Matty. “Y-yeah. Just one second, babe…”

With that, she took a final glance in the mirror and confirmed she looked alright. She didn’t feel too hot today. But there wasn’t much she could do to tend to her overwhelming insecurities at this very moment. Turning the knob with shaky, but freshly manicured hands, she exited the bathroom - her favourite place to cry - and greeted the beautiful, curly haired man in front of her, a fake smile a stark contrast to his genuine one. She felt somewhat guilty, but she’d feel guiltier if she let him know what was wrong. Letting him have a lovely time at George’s carouse was all she wanted. She knew firsthand how hard Matty and the boys worked, and how little rest they got… frankly, it amazed her. How he could do everything he did seldom any breaks was perplexing to the Y/H/C girl.

Matty looked at her up and down, practically tearing off her beautiful sequined black dress with his gorgeous chocolate (ha) brown eyes alone. He snaked a pale, inked arm around her waist, planting a soft, heartfelt kiss on her cheek. “You look breathtaking, love!” he exclaimed, a look of pure and utter adoration on his lovely face. Oh, how lucky she was. She didn’t think she deserved him - but then again, he didn’t think he deserved her, either. Again with the guilt.

She averted her gaze to the floor at an alarming speed, biting back a flood of tears in an attempt to do two things; save both her dignity and the glittery smokey eye she’d spent an unreasonable amount of time on. “Thank you. You look quite fit yourself, Matty,” she squeaked, trying to hide the burning of oncoming tears at the back of her throat that often resulted in a rather telling voice crack which made her sound like a twelve year old boy. She did not succeed. “Sorry. Eyeshadow in my eye. That stuff hurts,” she chuckled, giving her all to play it off. She felt terrible lying to him but it was all she could do right then and there, hm?

Matty looked concerned. He suspected she was upset - but for both her and the night’s sake decided not to make a big deal of it, raising his thick eyebrows worriedly. “I’d imagine it does, love,” he replied, squeezing her hand affectionately. “You sure you’re alright? We can tell George we can’t come--”

“No! No, no, no, don’t do that!” she pleaded, cutting him off. “I’m okay. It’s fine, babe, it’s nothing. Promise!”

“Alright,” he sighed, pulling her in for a hug. Y/N melted into the embrace, her head lying on his comfortable (albeit bony) chest. Listening to his heartbeat was quite therapeutic for her, and he knew that. “Let’s go.”

She nodded, and off they went.

To say the car ride was tense was a bit of an understatement. Y/N chewed at her glossy, made up lips, and Matty’s elegant free hand diverged from its usual spot at his girlfriend’s thigh and instead rested on the wheel of the car, bouncing up and down in coordination with his thigh. She didn’t dare gaze anywhere but outside the window, meanwhile he routinely checked up on her. For what reason, he wasn’t sure. It vaguely reminded them of the aftermath of their arguments -- but even then there was less… silence. It was deafening. Matty quickly turned on the radio (conveniently playing some sad, mainstream pop tune by the latest one-hit wonder) to elevate the mood and diminish the awkwardness. He wanted to talk, he just wasn’t sure how to go about doing so.

For the first time, Y/N looked away from the window and instead at her thighs. And her stomach. She cringed inwardly upon the sight, regretting giving in to the hearty lunch Matty had fixed for the two of them - it tasted surprisingly good, but she was quite bloated, even after a good five or so hours, which made her pretty anxious. Her soft, thick thighs, which he liked, weren’t to her liking. Not even close. Subconsciously, she tugged at her hair, threatening to rip it all out and scream, once again holding back a waterfall of tears. Then, back to staring at the cars passing by.

Eventually, they made it to George’s place. They could hear the music blaring from the opposite end of the block -- it was loud. Impossibly tumultuous. That by itself was already stressing Y/N out, to the point where she didn’t even realize Matty had stopped the car until he opened her door and helped her out. She thanked him, clinging onto his hand as if it was her last breath; his other hand rubbed her back in a soothing matter. They got to the door and were greeted by none other than Adam Hann after a brief sequence of knocks, his beautifully angled eyebrows sitting at an even higher angle once his eyes met with the pair’s own. “Y/N! Matty! A bit late, but come in! We’ve been waiting for ages,” he chirped, a slight slur to his words, especially when he emphasized ‘ages’.

Matty gave his close friend a slight chuckle, you instinctively following suit. “Yeah, sorry about that, mate. My love-” he ruffled your curled hair with his free hand, pulling you in a bit closer to him and kissing your forehead “-here is just so distractingly beautiful!” A very, very, embarrassingly bright blush crept onto your cheeks, and you let out the first genuine giggle you had all day. It was those small, yet memorable moments of pure cuteness that really made you fall in love with him. You cherished those memories -- you remembered every single time he’d done something like that. It was a mix of hilarity and endearment that you felt every time Matty shed his bad boy, rock star demeanour and replaced his it with a soft, loving one. One that secretly preferred being the little spoon sometimes. One that was surprisingly vulnerable. It was a side of Matty most people didn’t get to experience - and boy, was she grateful she got to.

“Not as pretty as you, Matthew,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck (which was covered in a mop of dark brown ringlets). He looked at you with a face that could only be described as an odd mix of amusement, adoration, and disgust.

“Don’t ever call me Matthew again, for the love of God.” Matty laughed, even harder as Adam faked a gag. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Hann! S’not like you and Carly are any different.”

“Not publicly. That’s gross.”

“Shut your trap,” he quipped as he jokingly shoved the blonde guitarist away so he could enter George’s not-so-humble abode (though he was quite humble about it nevertheless) with his girlfriend in tow.

The lights were bright. They flashed a lot, too (they flashed even more than those God-awful ‘groupies’ at literally every show the boys played), and they were far from pleasant; Y/N felt slightly queasy but, not like she herself would throw up… rather like her mind would. It seemed to be a combination of stress, body image, and an unexpectedly onset depressive episode. She felt herself stumble, almost as if she was as intoxicated as the vast majority of people attending this event, but she caught herself before Matty noticed. He was talking to some old friend he hadn’t seen since high school, which made her job easier as he assumed she was just being lovey-dovey when she gripped his arm - his obliviousness was a gift at times. This being one of them.

The friend - Y/N gathered her name was Tiera - was stunning. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Model material. Her bone structure was immaculate, and her platinum blonde box braids contrasted beautifully with her glowing dark skin. Her body was just as, if not more perfect than her face. She was fit in every sense of the word, with curves that would be the death of any woman or man who laid eyes on them… and YN’s brain insisted that this mesmerizing lady was going to be the end of her Matty too, and taking in the sight of them innocently catching up was when she lost it.

You see, she wasn’t normally a very jealous person; but the pure self loathing she had felt towards her own body that day, and then seeing how flawless Tiera’s was and how friendly her and Matty were especially compared to the distance they kept on the way to George’s, was just too much. She let go of Matty’s long, thin arm, pushing it away as hard as she could, and wriggled out of his grasp as if he was some sort of rat who was going to give her the Bubonic plague. Shocked, he looked back at her - his arrestingly ravishing girlfriend, the apple of his eye (dare I say - I do apologize for the cheesiness), her Y/H/C hair and black dress swaying in sync as she bolted towards his best friend’s restroom. What the fuck? He thought, his mouth agape just as it had been the first time he laid eyes on her. Except, rather than admiration, he stared in confusion.

Remember when I said that their bathroom was Y/N’s favourite place to cry? Well, I wasn’t lying. She found George’s to have the same pleasant, calming atmosphere that screamed “I AM HERE FOR YOU”, just as Matty wanted to earlier - unbeknownst to her.

She locked the door behind her as fast as she could, finding the light to be already on. She paced towards the mirror, recoiling in shock - she didn’t remember being that hideous at home. Maybe that’s because she hadn’t yet seen Tiera or any of the beautiful faces and bodies that peppered the gathering.

After inspecting her face and looking as hard as she could, she managed to scavenge every single little ‘flaw’ in existence. She rushed to smash the lightswitch back off with every ounce of rage in her body, hurting her delicate palms in the process, which made the tears she didn’t even realize were there spill out even harder. Great, now she hurt physically and mentally.

She slumped in the corner beside the sink, but not before pulling a fluffy green bathmat underneath her for a little bit of cushioning. Last time she cried in George’s bathroom, she split her palm open and thus felt as though she had every right to bawl her eyes out, considering the depth of the cut and her shockingly low pain tolerance - her and Matty were on the cold marble tile, hugging in intervals before her bandage was soaked through and needed to be replaced again--

Oh dear. Matty. Thinking of him again made her sobs grow in volume and frequency, and she could’ve sworn that by now she looked like some sort of raccoon. And although she trusted him with her heart and soul and deep down knew he would never, she couldn’t help but think that he was probably making out with some thotty little twerp. She put her head in her hands, numerous thoughts flooding her mind as she cried and cried. The room was spinning. Just like out in the main room. It was spinning, it was blurry, she was hyperventilating, and although she knew she would have to leave the bathroom and face Matty eventually, she continued to hide, sulking in solitude.

Suddenly, knocks boomed throughout the echoey room, and Y/N hoarsely got out a small confirmation that the room was in use.

“Y/N, we know it’s in use,” a gentle yet profoundly low voice replied. The voice was familiar - because, well, it belonged to the owner of the bathroom. “Could you come out, please? We’re worried sick.”

She cried harder. She hated being a burden - that’s why she came here - but she’d made it ten times worse. Like always. “W-who’s w-we?”

“Matty and me. Adam and Ross would be too, but we don’t know what they’ve gotten into.”

“I’m not coming out.”

“Please?”

Y/N dragged her quivering body to the door and unlocked it, guilt and shame apparent on her features as she faced the two men in front of her. Matty scooped her up, tears in his eyes, holding her as close as he possibly could. He thanked George for having him over and bid his goodbyes before making his way to their shared car and buckling her into the passenger’s seat. He’d had an amaretto or two and knew he probably shouldn’t have been driving, but whatever; he could pay for whatever fine they gave him. Y/N was worth a DUI and a ticket.

“What happened out there, love?” Matty inquired, sad brown gaze trying to read into her Y/E/C one.

She shook her head, face and hair still caked with the salty liquid that wouldn’t dare stop seeping out of her eyes.

He pursed his soft lips, before moving his hand too caress her wet cheek. “You have to tell me so I can help you, babe. I love you. How about we talk about it in bed?” He didn’t mean it sexually, at least not right now.

She nodded. That was really all he needed, leaning in to place a heartfelt kiss on her lips, grinning as he saw a small smile form. He offered his hand, and she took it, and they stayed like that for the rest of their journey home.

As soon as they got back, Matty made sure to tend to her every need - he tied her hair back, removed her rodent-like mess of makeup, and helped her get into more comfortable attire (his shirt, which secretly made him swoon). He frowned upon her refusal of chicken noodle soup - her favourite, especially when he made it. He carried her to their bed and decided to take charge and be the big spoon this time. “Alright, love. What’s up?”

She bit the inside of her cheek anxiously. She’d stopped crying, however she was still on the verge of tears. “I think I had a panic attack in George’s bathroom. But that’s not th-the point. This week has been terrible. I’ve been getting a ton of hate, you’ve had interviews, which is good and all, but… bad timing, I guess? Ah, I don’t know. And you know that… that lunch that you made for us? It was good, really good, but, I was pretty bloated after that which never fails to get me down! And then we had to go to that party, and I felt ugly and disgusting, and it just… wouldn’t stop. At the party, I felt even worse. Sick. And everyone there was gorgeous, especially… what’s her name? Tia? Tyra? Tiera. Yes. And I thought you liked her because I’m a mess. And…” she paused, a tear falling down her cheek. “I think that’s it?”

It hurt Matty’s heart to hear her pour hers out to him in such a melancholy way. He’d known of her insecurities -- it’s why she was usually quite hesitant about any intimacy whatsoever, even a simple hug -- and every single one of his attempts to comfort her, restore her self esteem, assure her she was the most gorgeous girl he’d ever laid eyes on (hence why they were dating). He sighed, pulling her into a warm embrace. “You’re breathtaking. Don’t ever think otherwise. And by the way,” he began, pausing as she cocked her head to the side. “I’ve got worry about her more than you do. She told me you were quite fit before you ran off.” They shared warm laughs, before Y/N looked into his eyes once again.

“I love you, rockstar.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, both my hands and the star-crossed lovers got some rest. Writing six pages is not easy on the wrist.

#the 1975 #adam hann #matty healy x reader #matty healy #george daniel #ross macdonald #abiior #iliwysfyasbysuoi #drive like i do #imagines #imagine #fanfic

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itsomgitsgreenblogging · 4 years

Text

Labor of Love Chapter 3: A Critical Role Fanfic

Alright everyone, I’m back again with another chapter of Labor of Love...my longest chapter yet, but mostly for plot reasons. There were definitely some moving parts I had to arrange. Thank you again, to everyone who has been so supportive about this fic! Your comments, likes, kudos, and reblogs have given me all the life.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

Read Ch1 and Ch 2 on Tumblr

Preview:

Essek took another sip of his tea as he gazed out the expansive windows of the Towers...the apartment building he lived in that was considered one of the nicer rental properties. Essek lived in a loft apartment, a spacious and airy abode-if not a little cold and impersonal. Essek usually didn’t mind that, seeing as he really only came home to eat and sleep and little else besides putting his stuff somewhere. (He did have a nice walk-in closet that he kept organized by color and style that he was exceedingly proud of, but that was neither here nor there.) Any apartment would have been fine, but what had attracted him to this place were the windows...large and taking up the wall almost completely. It gave him the view of the busy city that never slept in the eternal night, the buildings still bustling with activity, the cars that glided and moved like they were alive, the subway car that would always appear and roll across tracks from the depths only to disappear once more. Usually there was something soothing about being able to sit at his kitchen island with a mug of something warm and just...gaze outside. But that night, he felt chilled, and was determined to hold his mug just a little tighter to leech the warmth into his fingertips.

Essek was just getting settled when his phone vibrated. Essek looked at it, saw the person who was calling him and frowned.

"What?" Essek asked, as he raised the phone to his ear.

"Let me in please."

Essek sighed and went to press the buzzer. It took a minute or two before there was a knock at Essek's door, and Verin appeared in his apartment. He was carrying a duffle bag, because of course he was and was still wearing his police uniform. Essek scowled at the sight and cringed as Verin haphazardly threw the duffle bag by his glass coffee table.

"This is not a bed and breakfast," Essek told him shortly, leaning against the wall by the door. Verin stopped and seemed to actually look at him for the first time since arriving.

"What? Were you expecting somebody?" Verin asked, sounding surprised and Essek looked down at his own outfit. He was wearing a pair of joggers and a crop top he wouldn't have anyone catch him dead in...though he didn’t care about Verin. Verin registered to Essek somewhere on the scale between ant and worm. Regardless, Essek still felt his face twist.

"Do I look like I'm expecting someone?" Essek asked exasperatedly, raising his mug to his lips again and taking a sip. It was supposed to be some soothing blend that was popular, but Essek as usual found it flat and tasteless. It was really just the warmth he was after...as well as just something to fill the time.

"I don't know what your girlfriend likes."

"Shows what you know about me," Essek snorted into the steam, hoping the scent of green tea would soothe him...it didn’t. "I was just having some time to myself...alone."

"You mean, like always?"

"Verin, seriously, what did you need besides daring me to murder you?" Essek asked, leveling a glare at his brother.

"I've been working for like, 48 hours straight. I just need a shower and maybe an hour or two to trance. I'm begging you here."

"You mean working on the thing I'm telling you not to bother with?"

"Yes, that. It's important."

"Go home then."

"I have to drive like, 45 minutes to an hour with traffic. Come on."

"Your girlfriend must not be happy with you," Essek observed with a sniff as he perched up on a stool by his island once more. Verin sighed deeply, palming the back of his neck awkwardly.

"No...she's not. So please, Essek?"

"Fine, just be quick about it."

"Thank you," Verin breathed out, obviously relieved before walking off to the small side hallway.

"Second door on the right!" Essek called after him.

"Got it!"

Essek sat there now, taking vengeful gulps from his mug. Girlfriend, he thought to himself, what a joke. But now that he was thinking about it, Quana had said something similar the day before yesterday. He hadn't ever "come out" to anyone as it were. Essek didn't really see the point in that mental exercise. It didn't change anything. After all, Essek hadn't even had a boyfriend before. A few late night fumblings that he hadn't enjoyed, yes. But he had sworn the whole thing off a while ago, it made things neater and more organized. He supposed the other added effect was he was essentially a stranger in everyone's life, but that wasn't a bad thing in his day to day dealings.

Verin appeared again, showered and in sweats, and yanked open Essek's fridge derailing Essek's train of thought completely.

"What did I say about my apartment not being a bed and breakfast?" Essek reminded him with a huff, slamming down his mug. He was probably being dramatic, but this was his apartment. This was his space and Verin was just...rooting around like the little vermin he was. It reminded him of when they used to share a room as children...until Verin had found Essek’s journal and read it out loud to their older sister and Essek cast grease on him. It was one of those rare moments that his mother’s punishment fit the crime. They had been separated after that.

"Holy shit, Essek. You've got like nothing in your fridge," Verin said with a horrified look before yanking open the freezer. "You don't even have pizza rolls."

"Seriously, Verin? I will not desecrate my taste buds with pizza rolls."

"What do you even eat, man?"

"The souls of the innocent. Now if you are going to completely disregard what I said? Fine. Beggars can't be choosers, eat some plums or something," Essek said, lobbing a fruit from the bowl in front of him at Verin's head. He caught it easily. Of course he did. The bastard. "I know you still have Mother hide your fruit in chocolate syrup, but…"

"Oh fuck off Essek," Verin said with a roll of his eyes and taking a bite of the plum. "I'm still doing my thing, by the way. You haven't scared me off."

"If you are here to gloat about your goodness like some kind of Luxon missionary find a hotel room please," Essek said with his chin held high. "I really don't care and I know trying to convince you is an exercise in futility."

"Of course you care, you are the biggest liar I've ever had the misfortune of knowing," Verin said as he leaned against the counter.

"You are right, I care, only because of the head ache it'll cause me in the long run, but I know that you don't care about being reasonable so go ahead. Crash and burn. I give you my permission."

"I don't need your permission," Verin sighed before taking another look at Essek. "How are you, by the way?"

"Fine," Essek answered shortly. "Busy."

"You are always busy, but...are you getting out? At all?"

"No. I'm not. I'm busy."

"Essek...seriously?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"I dunno...lie to me and tell me you are doing great?"

"Fine, I'm doing great."

"No, don't do that. That smile creeps me out."

"Good."

"I mean...have you put any thought into dating? At all?"

"Because clearly that's going well for you," Essek said sarcastically. Verin gave him a stern look.

"I know you don't like it, but I do worry about you," Verin said softly, tapping the island thoughtfully. "I hate you most of the time, because you are a bastard. But I do worry about you."

"And it would make you feel better if I dated? How?"

"I dunno...that you would have someone. It doesn't matter who. I don't even know if you have any friends."

"Where is this all coming from?" Essek asked as he blinked at his younger brother.

"Essek...you literally haven't talked to me in months. The last time was Harvest Close. Your call gave me a fucking heart attack."

"Well good, it appears my scheme to kill you and assert my dominance as the better child is all going according to plan."

"You see, the thing about you is I don't know if you are being serious or not so let me just say, if you did kill me, don’t think I wouldn’t haunt you for the rest of your life. And that would be worse because you hate having people around. So really? Just shooting yourself in the foot."

“Verin, eat your damn plum and then go trance.”

“Whatever,” Verin scoffed, but seemed content to do just that as he settled on the couch and lay down. He tossed the decorative blanket Essek had placed just so over his legs with little care, and shut his eyes. Essek massaged his aching temples, before walking over to the light switch and dimming it all the way. He looked out the window, just once more. The cold light of Rosohna continued to shine, regardless of how Essek felt about it.

___

Essek called the bakery the next day.

This was normally how things went. He had to call places and walk the ever treacherous line of being polite but also demanding. After all, no one could turn down Leylas Kryn, but it also had to be kept a serious affair no matter what. The last thing that anyone wanted was for the paparazzi to catch wind of what they were doing and cause a whole ruckus. On the other hand it was also important to note that any business that had Leylas Kryn’s attention would suddenly be in the national spotlight. Spa treatments she did became sensations, unknown fashion designers became national icons, while workouts she commited to became trends. And in this case? Maybe a bakery would be bigger than just a bakery.

He stared at the muffin on his desk. Beauregard had pressed it into his hands that morning with his daily order, rolling her eyes as she said it was on the house. It tempted him, standing as a monument to his weakness. Some secret part of him didn’t want to call...didn’t want to change the thing that had slowly but surely integrated itself into his routine. But he pressed the number into his phone and dialed regardless.

Farewell to his tiny hiding hole, Essek thought as the phone rang. Really it was what they deserved, the least he could do for what a lovely group they were...the least he could do for Caleb. Perhaps it didn’t mean anything for him, Essek was just another face in the crowd...he wasn’t anyone special to him. But Essek could still almost taste sunlight on the tip of his tongue...

The line clicked and connected on the other end.

“Xhorhaus Bakery, this is Veth speaking, how can I help you?” Veth’s shrill voice came over the line.

“Hello, this is Essek Theylss calling from the Xhorhassian Cultural Institute, how are you doing today?” Essek asked with his patent work voice. He heard a pregnant pause on the other side of the line, and a short intake of breath.

“Hello…?” Veth said, sounding very suspicious. “Good? Are we in trouble?”

Essek blinked. Oh. He had never given them his last name, he had only told Jester. Essek wasn’t a super common name, but also wasn’t uncommon either. It was name lifted from the pages of a famous collection of folktales that was housed in the national museum (though he was pretty sure his mother had just opened up a book of names and picked the first one her finger landed on). Essek remembered looking it up as a child; it was derived from either the Undercommon word “eszaph” or “eszak”which meant ”alike” or “worry”. Essek had always thought that “eszak” suited him more. Regardless, there would always be at least one or two other Esseks in a school...though their names were usually spelled “Essik” or “Essic” to mark them as unique and special, and he couldn’t imagine a worse fate. Thankfully his mother had always been a traditionalist in that regard, though it made it hard to stomach her for other reasons.

“No, of course not,” Essek said with his friendly-laugh, the one that set people at ease. “I’m calling on behalf of Leylas Kryn and her partner Quana Kryn who are interested in utilizing your services to cater a cake for their Vow Renewal.”

“What? Really-sh!” Essek could hear Veth talk off to the side. “Jester get Caleb-!”

“Is now not a good time?” Essek asked, heart pounding in his ears, hoping to get the conversation back on track (trying desperately not to think about Caleb’s voice in his ear because he didn’t want that, he couldn’t handle that).

“No! Now’s a perfect time, uh, what were you thinking? Of a time?”

“It will have to be after your usual closing hours, for the utmost privacy of the Kryns. And we will have to send over papers that ask for a nondisclosure until it is determined whether the service will be utilized, is that agreeable?”

“Yes! Yes of course, sh! Fjord--shutthefuckup--!”

“Very well then, the Kryns have availability tonight or the 13th of this month between the times of seven to eight. Do either of those times work for you?”

“Tonight! Of course we’ll be happy with the appointment tonight.”

“Wonderful,” Essek said, voice trained into a smile. “Would you prefer fax, paper, or magical means of receiving the forms?”

Essek worked out the details and received the signed nondisclosure forms from the fax machine, officially booking in the appointment to Leylas’ schedule. By the time he got off the phone with Veth he felt like he had run a whole marathon. But he looked at the forms that had been signed...and the elegant script caught his attention. Caleb Widogast. He ran his fingers over the copy, taking a moment to trace the loops and lines. It felt oddly intimate in the strangest way...but Essek shook his head resolutely to scatter those thoughts. It wasn’t intimate, he was just being desperate and needy over a kind stranger.

Essek finally picked up the muffin and took a bite, his first taste of food all day. Essek knew the enchantment on the muffins were supposed to keep them from going stale, the perfect spell for early morning rushes and office meetings. And yet he still couldn’t get over it. Buttery and moist, crumbling and melting into his mouth...bursting with bright cranberries in every bright and sweet-zesty oranges in the muffin itself and in the drizzle that lingered on the tongue...and the echo of lemon that strengthened. Of course lemon, Essek thought, annoyed at himself. Always lemon. He wouldn’t be able to even look at a lemon the same way again without thinking of him. But even that couldn’t sour the cripplingly good flavor in his mouth, made stronger with the coffee it was paired with.

Essek called Leylas’ event planner and confirmed that everything was fine to go for tonight, and then scooped up the papers and his tome-pad and walked over to Kryn's office. Her secretary motioned for him to knock, and so he did so carefully.

“Come in,” came Leylas’ voice, and Essek walked into her spacious office. The whole office was styled similarly to the rest of the building, modern and minimalist and with a muted color palette. Leylas looked up, swiveling her chair in order to see Essek better from where she was sitting. “Did you make an appointment to this bakery then?”

“Yes, you should see it on your schedule for tonight considering you had a gap in your calendar and you were hoping to do this sooner rather than later,” Essek said, pulling up the details on his tome-pad and giving Leylas the papers to look at. She skimmed them, seemed content, and then put them in the box that would go to legal. “You will both arrive at seven, be given time to design your wedding cake. This was explained to be that you should come up with ideas about the shape of the cake, colors, flowers you may want-”

“Flowers on a cake?”

“I was told that they craft them out of sugar.”

“How interesting,” Leylas said as she tapped her nail against her arm.

“Also, any specific enchantments you may want on the cake itself. They will explain the options there, but as someone who has sampled the enchantments, no matter what you pick you will not be disappointed. After that you will have time to taste the different standard flavors they offer, or conferences to come up with your own.”

“I see, Quana and I shall talk about it,” Leylas said as she gazed back at her computer. “And you will be coming as well, won’t you?”

“I...what?” Essek asked, surprised. “Your Vow Renewal Planner is going.”

“Of course she is, but, I also trust your opinion as well,” Leylas said as she leaned back in her chair. “I also suppose we are going to be taste testing a bunch of flavors aren’t we? I know how much you enjoy sweets.”

“I don’t enjoy sweets,” Essek said with a frown.

“Right,” she said with a knowing look that almost made Essek bristle but it didn’t...only because he was so well trained to bottle every emotion he had ever felt in his own life and carefully package them away into a neat box which then went into the pit where his soul probably was supposed to be.

“I enjoy the coffee there,” Essek said simply as he closed his tome-pad. “As do you and Mrs. Kryn. But if you would like me to accompany you, I will do so of course.”

“Then be ready to go at 6:30 then,” Leylas said, dismissing him with a wave. Essek stepped out of the room and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a breath, before walking down with the second copies of the legal forms that he would file in the Kryns’ personal collection.

He didn’t like mixing business with pleasure at the best of times, he liked his days separated cleanly into professional-time and Essek time. Any moment it was blurred was honestly stressful in a very vague and strange way, because Essek wasn’t sure who he was meant to be. Though that sounded philosophical, he meant that in quite a literal sense. On a day to day basis Essek had no sense of cognitive dissonance with who Essek-at-work was and who Essek-not-at-work, but when they were in close quarters it made things strange and made social interactions bizarre. People didn’t tend to enjoy the company of Essek-not-at-work, and certainly that was not who Leylas and Quana expected, so Essek-at-work was who would be going with them to the bakery.

At the appointed time, Essek followed Quana and Leylas in his own car. The planner, a young drow woman named Nedna had accompanied the Kryns and appeared with them in the back of their car as the driver opened the door for them. As their bodyguard, a huge minotaur named Sunbreaker Ulomon (yes, Ulomon was his name. No, he wasn’t sure if he had been given the name Sunbreaker or had just given it to himself like a pit-fighter) waited outside the door. Just before any of them could move, there was movement and the sound of running.

“Welcome to Xhorhaus Bakery!” Jester greeted nearly bursting out of the back door in her enthusiasm. “We are so happy to have you! My name’s Jester and-”

She stopped, staring at Essek for a moment, before picking up again as if she had never missed a beat.

“-and Caleb and Veth are in the office. I’ll be bringing you back there!” Jester said.

“Of course,” Leylas said, and hooked her arm with Quana’s as they walked forward. Nedna was casting an extremely judgemental look towards everything as they walked through the front door. Essek pretended that his tome-pad was very interesting as they entered the office where Veth was settling down some books and Caleb was reading over something. He looked up, smiled at Leylas and Quana before blinking rapidly at the sight of him, raking over his face in a way that made Essek tense up. He didn’t have anything on his face, because he always looked in his mirror before he got out of his car. He was dressed in a suit and jacket, just as he usually was.

He wasn’t expecting you here, Essek reminded him. Don’t think anything of it.

“Hello, Mr. Widogast,” Leylas said moving through the space easily and taking his hand, “I am Leylas Kryn, this is my wife Quana, event planner Nedna Mirimm, and my assistant Essek Theylss.”

“It is an honor to meet you,” Caleb said sincerely, taking all of their hands in a handshake. He faltered at the sight of Essek before offering out his hand.

“It is nice to see you again, Mr. Widogast,” Essek said with a soft hopefully-comforting smile, taking Caleb’s hand and giving it a quick shake before releasing it. He definitely was not thinking about how Caleb’s hand felt so warm, and it was large and calloused and strong from spell working and bread-kneading. Those thoughts, of course, didn’t bubble up in his head like breath escaping the lungs. “Though this time in my more professional capacity as opposed to a regular frequenter.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Caleb agreed, though he looked strangely flustered. For a second he held his own hand, before he turned back to the others. “So you are here about a cake, ja? Take a seat and let's get started. I am assuming you have come here with specifics about the occasion.”

“The Vow Renewal itself will be a rather private affair,” Leylas explained, and Essek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He supposed 200 guests out of all the important people in the world was “private” but still, it was rather misleading when you put it like that. He typed out a note to make sure that Caleb and those who would be focusing on the cake were made aware. “Though of course it is our day, it is also important for the country as a whole as you can imagine.”

“Of course,” Veth said. “Very important. Extremely important.”

“What is your theme?” Caleb asked curiously.

“I believe the word we were using was celestial, correct Quana?” Leylas asked Quana.

“Yes, considering how much our faith means to us,” Quana said, giving Leylas’ hand a fond squeeze. Their affection was something so easily given, Essek couldn’t help but prickle with some emotion he couldn’t quite name. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt it before...though his own emotions tended to be distant relatives rather than constant companions. All of this feeling he had been doing lately was the exception, not the rule.

“I have reference pictures here of decorations and also of the Kryn’s ceremonial and reception attire,” Nedna said, sliding the folder over for Caleb and Veth to see. “Those are for your reference.”

“How wonderful,” Caleb said with an earnest look at all the materials in the folder. “For your cake, what exactly were you thinking of in terms of how many tiers?”

“As this is a new tradition we were hoping for your expert opinion on the topic,” Leylas said.

“Well, traditionally you would want one tier per forty guests. So if your ceremony will have, let’s say, 100 guests in attendance you would have three tiers. You add another tier for each forty guests. Or, of course, we can always do a smaller cake and cater additional cupcakes or a dessert bar,” Caleb explained, drawing it out on the sketch paper to demonstrate what he meant.

“For all the guests, a six tiered cake then,” Nedna said before sniffing. “How do you get a cake so big to stand?”

“We have different methods of construction as well as a system of dowels we place to add support. Now in terms of design…”

They spoke through the design of the cake, with Essek jotting down the most pressing notes. Geometric designs, silver and metallic accents, the flowers to match the ones chosen for the ceremony. Nedna was actually in charge of this, but still, it never hurt to be thorough. Of course there was no real budget, after all, whatever the Kryns wanted they got. But Essek did keep a close eye on the notes about the cost as laid out on the sheet to tally up a price. They were a small business, it was imperative that they were paid appropriately for their services.

“Essek! Pssst!”

Essek looked up from his notes to see Jester’s hand gesticulating wildly at him. Essek sighed.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Essek said, and Leylas nodded to give him permission to go. Essek turned the corner and immediately saw all of them around it squatting like they had been listening in to the conversation...and he didn’t doubt they had. He planted his hands on his hips, in a strange reenactment of an old nanny of his. "What?"

"We should be asking the questions!" Beau hissed at him. "What the fuck are you doing here with the Bright Queen?"

"I'm an assistant," Essek said.

"So she's the super secret awesome person you work for?" Jester asked, sounding delighted.

"She would be," Essek admitted.

"That's so cool," Jester said with a dreamy sigh.

"Who is she, again?" Caduceus asked curiously. Essek blinked in surprise, but Caduceus continued to look at Essek with an open honest expression. “I’m sorry, was that a weird question?”

“Of course not. Leylas Kryn is the Bright Queen...she is the Queen of this country, though she no longer has any powers...she gave that up when Xhorhas became a parliamentary government,” Essek explained, giving his best intern’s-first-day spiel to them. “Her partner Quana Kryn is the Dusk Captain, the ceremonial head of military. Right now they are the heads of the Xhorhassian Cultural Institute, which is a government organization whose mission is to preserve and promote our culture. It manages approximately 1,000 organizations such as museums, manors, and other cultural and historical landmarks.”

“That’s wonderful,” Caduceus said. “It is truly an honor to be preserving one’s way of life, and to respect the history behind it.”

History is written by the winners and rewritten to serve one’s needs, Essek thought dismissively. It is an exercise in semantics where we attempt to construct morals and understandings through our thin veils of experience, in a world that is rarely concerned with such things. The subject on the whole is just a breeding ground for those with personal deficits...almost as bad as those who involved themselves willingly with business and economics.

“It is an honor to be working with them,” is what Essek said with an eternally soft smile. For a moment Caduceus’ expression furrowed like he was deep in thought, before it passed.

“So your last name is Theylss? Isn’t that one of the important families in this city?” Fjord asked curiously.

“Ah, yes, it would be,” Essek said. “My family occupies a certain station in this city.”

“So you are like a super duper important person?” Jester asked. “Like nobility or something?”

“Not since the formal den system was eradicated, no. That was a bit before I was born,” Essek said with a dismissive wave.

“When were you born...by the way?” Beau asked suspiciously.

“I am one hundred and twenty years old,” Essek said, “for your kind I would be classified as a young adult.”

“Not too old then,” Jester said with a giggle, to which Yasha gave her a little poke in the side.

“Too old for what?” Essek asked, confused.

“Oh nothing! Nothing!” Jester said, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly.

“Was there anything else you needed me for?” Essek asked.

“Nothing, nothing, wouldn’t want to keep you too long, just wanted to say hello,” Fjord said, giving them all a look. Beau looked a bit put-out, Caduceus was still looking at him strangely, while Jester seemed to be enjoying her own private joke. Yasha gave him a shrug, and Essek took that as his dismissal.

Essek returned into the room, just as Veth brought out a tray of samples. Each slice resembled little finger sandwiches. There were two sets of ten laid out before them on the small mismatched dishes and plates Essek had come to associate with the bakery, each of varying colors and varieties.

“These are our wedding cake flavors. You can of course feel free to request different combinations without cost, but specialty flavors and special requests will cost more based on the ingredients needed to be purchased and the rarity of those ingredients. I’ve also separated them into categories. Over here we have our most popular flavors,” Caleb pointed to a set of three, “next to that are four of our spring wedding suggestions, and then we have others what we call wild card flavors.”

“I pick those ones!” Veth said, sounding very proud of herself. “The cups are of different types of frostings and fillings that you can have. Is there anything you would like to start with?”

“Let’s start with the wild card,” Quana said and with a nod from Leylas, Veth placed the three tiny cakes in front of both Leylas and Quana, as well as in front of him and Nedna.

“Our first offerings are a honey-lavender cake, orange-lemon cake, and our matcha cake…”

_________

“Essek,” Leylas said as she fixed the collar of her jacket. “It was a very good suggestion. I look forward to what they do with it. Very well done, as usual.”

“Thank you,” Essek said, as he opened the door to their car for them, she slid in next to her wife, who was lounging back and settled an arm around her. Leylas cuddled into her, almost imperceptibly. “Have a good night.”

The car drove off the curb, and Essek heard the tapping of Nedna’s nails against the screen of her own phone.

“That was all very sweet,” Nedna commented idly, eyes violet against the streetlights and the slick asphalt. “And well played, Essek.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea as to what you are referring to,” Essek said, giving her a sidelong look. “If you felt that I was stepping on your toes, that was not my intention. I was merely hoping to offer a suggestion to my employer.”

Silence hung in the air, strangely thick against Essek’s skin. Nedna wasn't responding and Essek did his best not to look at her. Perhaps if he didn't look she wouldn't continue the conversation-

“That’s my driver,” Nedna said, motioning to the black car rolling down the street, dashing any hope he had to escape this conversation in some way unscathed. “But I can always cancel him, send him to pick up my sister. We could have dinner, perhaps? Or something to drink? Nothing so sweet though. I think we’ve both had enough sweets for one day, haven’t we?”

Essek couldn't help but look at her now. She was gazing at him intently, expression hungry and gaze hot against Essek's skin. Ah. This again. Essek hated that, when people stared at him like they could peel back his skin and find what they desired under the surface. They just didn't understand that Essek didn't have anything they wanted in the cage of his body, that whatever they saw in him was just a figment of their own imaginations.

“I’m not hungry,” Essek said flatly.

“You don’t need to be to take me out to dinner,” Nedna said, reaching out to touch his arm. Essek resisted the urge to jerk away from her. He hated things like this. You always had to walk the delicate line, be kind enough to avoid insult, but stern enough to avoid a repeat performance. Everything is politics, his mother’s voice reminded him. Grin and bear it, no Essek, smile in a way that doesn’t make you look like you smelled something awful-

“As much as I appreciate the offer,” Essek said, plucking her hand from his arm. He gave it a soft pat, before releasing her. “I will have to refuse, I am unfortunately far too busy.”

“I see,” Nedna said as the car rolled up. Her expression was something pinched and sour. “A pity.”

On that note, she entered the car which pulled out with a puff of white smoke. Essek sighed, unable to contain his shiver as he rubbed his gloved hands together for warmth. Finally, his day was over. He could go home and relax. The idea was so intoxicating to him that he didn’t even realize that someone was bounding up to him until Jester was almost on top of him.

“Oh my goodness! Essek!” Jester gasped, nearly wiggling with excitement, she threw her arms around him in a hug. Essek felt his breath choke in his lungs because she was soft and warm against him. “Thank you so much! This is going to be so great for the bakery!”

“I don’t know what you are thanking me for, but you are welcome,” Essek said, extricating himself from her embrace as quickly as possible. His skin felt like it was on fire, even though she hadn’t even touched any, and for some reason he wanted her to do it again. It was so bewildering a sensation that he almost missed the next words stated to him.

“You were the one who brought them here, correct?” Caduceus asked, wrapping a fuzzy pink scarf around his own neck. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Oh, no, I-”

“You shouldn’t bother lying to Caduceus,” Yasha said, the giant woman quietly approaching. “He can always tell.”

“It is true,” Jester said very seriously before her giant grin broke through like the sun. “Essek. I just had the most amazing idea!”

“What?” Essek said, trying to keep up with her boundless enthusiasm but feeling like he was lagging at least three miles behind.

“The rest of them took Fjord’s car, but this is your car right?”

“Right?”

“The God Squad,” Jester said, forming her hands into a “g” and then a “s”, “was just going to take a taxi to the place, but you should totally join us!”

“Where?” Essek said, feeling dizzy from trying to follow her train of thought.

“Karaoke!” Jester chirped.

“...karaoke?” Essek repeated numbly.

“Does he know what karaoke is?” Yasha asked Caduceus quietly, who just shrugged.

“I know what it is,” Essek said, too befuddled to hide his snippiness. “You want me...to bring you to a karaoke bar.”

“No, join us,” Jester said, motioning to them in a wild manner, much like a mother attempting to goad her child back into her arms after swimming too far off shore. “It’ll be so much fun, Essek! Come on, please? Everyone will love having you there!”

A part of Essek, the rational part, wanted him to say no. After all, none of this was appropriate. They didn’t even know him...he didn’t understand why they would even think to include him in this. But the other part of Essek...the part that was strangely starved thought...it couldn’t possibly be that bad of an idea? After all, what could go wrong?

“The one on second or the one of Ridgecrest Avenue?” Essek asked.

_______

“H̶̱͈̱̘̋ä̷̟̖́̓̒͜ǹ̴̮̰͕̱d̸̖̯͇͊̏̐s̷͙̜̚,̴̩̲̀̆͒ ̶̹͓́́͜͜t̷͇̜̤̱̋̔̈́ơ̷̰ȕ̵͍͖͊c̴̡͔̜̓̈́ḧ̶̩̑i̶̦̥̭̖͝n̷̪̾g̵͓͙̓̒ ̶͖̗̫̈́̓ḫ̸̀͐̾a̵̝̘̥͒̐ǹ̸̼̥͆d̶͈̓s̵͉̄͠, ̸/R̷̞̍̄͐e̸̯͛̓͛a̷̩͗̇̉̄ͅc̷̰̀̽̒̆h̵̼̜̼͆͌̆͝i̶̛͕̙͔̦̿̎̇ņ̷̦̀̆̄͝g̵͉̼̻̈́͜ ̶̳̱̹́͝o̸͓͂̏̑u̶͔͛͝t̴̰̭̺͈̀͋,̶̳̪͓̋́ ̴̳̝̄t̴̪̬͙̆ȍ̴̡͖̾̐ú̴̟̯̕͜ć̷̺͗̀͠h̸̜͙͐͒̉́ǐ̸̩̙̝n̵̡͓̺̩̈́͒͘g̸̢̤̜̻͌͑̎ ̸̭̹̼̹̿́̐͌m̴̱̑̋e̴̟̘̓,̶̺͓͌ ̸̖̩̝̆t̶̛̬̦̙̃̒̉ô̵̧̬͇͖̽̈́̕u̶̗͙̹͋̏̕͜͠c̷̤̗̾͋̕͜͠ḧ̷̢̛̤́ͅi̸̡͖̠̾̋͑n̷̜̠͓̖̓g̷͙̔̀̊̾ ̶͙̜̞̹̾͋͊y̷̛̩͂̈͜o̵̧̬̼̎͐͝ú̵͈̥̤…!” Everyone at the karaoke place sang loudly, miming reaching out and grasping onto each other dramatically. Essek had been told by Veth and Beauregard that this was apparently an Empire classic, by some tiefling bard named Ni’al Deamound. Apparently everyone else knew it too, as this was a bar filled with immigrants from the Empire, which was strange since it was in the original abyssal.

“S̸̞̟̍w̷̰̫͛̀̀̈͜e̴̞̬͖͊̔͜ẽ̵͙͖͔̖̌t̵̳̒̄̍̕ ̴̭̳̳̪̐̒C̶̮̻̊̀͝ȁ̷̤̐͐̏r̶̭̤̤̫͛̉͂o̴̖̲̖͚̔l̵̟̙͗͘͝͝i̸͍̫̚ͅn̶̙̭̑̀͋ë̸̦̞́͐̈́͝!” Veth nearly screeched into the microphone, as the crowd at the karaoke placed cheered.

“̶̨̦̔̆͜ͅB̵͙͇̈́͑͜A̷̯̦̖̼͋̀ ̴̧̟̦̜͛͛̑̇B̵̖̬͓͙̊̉̕A̸̮͖͆́ ̵̦͒B̶̡̺̆̔A̵͚̹͐̕!̷̱̩̆͗̑!̷̎͑͐̄ͅ!̵̮͛̇” The rest of the Mighty Nein shouted back.

“̷̦̊G̵̠͎̳͔̑o̴̞̩̎̾͛ơ̷͙͉̯͓̆͋d̵̲̥̫̘̍͐̈́ ̸̩͌̑̈́̿t̷̜̠͉͔͑̀͆į̷̝͠m̵̥̩̦̤̽̍̑e̶͚͇̒ş̷̓̉͌̾ ̷̢̜̈́͂̈́͒n̶͔͒͆̿͝e̸̛̖̼͋̓̈v̷̮͓̍͊͝ḙ̸̛͓̹̥͑̋r̵̹̪̎ ̶̟́͠ͅͅs̵̺̭͗́ͅȇ̵̙̒̾̈́e̵̱̞̙̥̓͑͝m̷̛̬͝é̵͚̫̿ḋ̶̜̮͒̃ͅ ̸̭̹͙͒͐̽ş̸̯̉͌͑̀o̴̒͛̆̾͜ ̵̻͓̦̓g̸̱̏o̴̡̓̇o̷̮̟̣̅͒d̷̢̳̬̓̅!”

“̷̭̆S̷̪̼͋͊͒̓Ò̴̢̬̏̈́͂ ̷̙͉̪̈́G̴̞̪͛͊O̵̻͈̝͎͐O̴̹̩͕̤͛̆̊D̷̦̆̈͒!̶̨͚̱̘͛̅̑̈́ ̵͖̪̲̈͂̎͑Ș̸̲̈́O̵̘̙̠͙̾ ̸͉͙̱̫͘Ġ̸͈̠̍͒Ơ̸͉͓͖̏̈́ͅO̵̧͖̞̓̕D̷̨͒̐!̵͙̄̔͘ ̸̤̼̥̃̔S̵͙̘̄̾͜Ǫ̴̖̟̩̀ ̶̥͖̦̥͗̐̔̌G̸͉͚̦̽̆̋Ò̷̳͍̭̜Ǫ̸̹͙̭́̓D̷̨̜̩͍͆̂!̵̱̹̩̎͌́͝” The Mighty Nein chanted, which would have been concerning...depending on the situation. The song ended with a raucous applause as someone else took the strage, yodeling through a Scanlan Shorthalt classic, “Eye of the Goliath”. Essek was mostly zoned out, and was startled as Caleb sat down next to him with a drink in his hands. He had spent most of his time there just absorbing the company and the conversation, contributing only when asked a direct question. Essek hadn’t ever been the most sociable person, and he found himself suddenly anchored by Caleb’s company.

“Care for another drink?” Caleb asked, settling it down in front of himself, it was a glass of beer, a stout perhaps? Essek wasn’t too versed in drinks unless they were light and fruity cocktails. “I don’t mind running back to the bar for another one.”

“No, no, I have to drive,” Essek said, cradling the same cocktail he had been drinking the whole time he had been there. “Though, I’ll probably need to grab something to eat on my way home...I don’t have anything in my fridge.”

“You ought to come with us back to our place,” Beauregard said, plopping down on the other side of the booth and taking a long sip from her glass. A look passed between her and Caleb that Essek didn’t understand. “After we go to karaoke we normally have a snack party.”

“Beau, smile more invitingly,” Fjord coached, and Beauregard’s expression tightened into an unnatural smile.

“I couldn’t impose, just this has been very kind,” Essek said, waving them off.

“It’s the least we can do,” Fjord argued. “This is going to be huge for us.”

“We would love to have you,” Caleb promised, with a smile that spread so handsomely across his face. “We were going to get going anyways relatively soon. I think Jester wanted to sing one more song-”

“Essek you should totally sing with me!” Jester called from the front of the line. “We can do a duet!”

“Ah, no, I don’t sing!” Essek called back.

“Beau? Yasha?” Jester called back and both ladies looked at each other before shrugging and going up to join Jester for a rousing rendition of Marion Lavorre’s single “Ladies’ Night”, with shockingly accurate choreography to the music video if Essek recalled correctly.

“Will you come?” Caleb asked, sounding hopeful.

“I...if you don’t mind,” Essek said, downing the rest of his cocktail in hopes that it would soothe his suddenly dry throat.

Essek managed to drive the so-called God Squad to the house the Mighty Nein owned without getting into a car accident despite Jester’s constant narration (with the exception of Veth, who apparently lived in a smaller house down the street with her husband and son). It was decently sized in a relatively nice part of the city that was lined with vermaloc trees and brownstones, indigenous and hearty enough to survive the eternal night of the city. Essek was surprised, though he wasn’t sure what he had expected it wasn’t this.

“Everyone grab what they’ve been working on, it’s munchies party time!” Jester shouted out Essek’s window, nearly jumping out of it as it was still moving. Essek parked behind Fjord’s car in the driveway and admired the home. It was painted a lovely maroon and settled on a light stone foundation, a traditional style to this area and yet it seemed warm and inviting.

“You have a lovely place,” Essek commented as the half-orc locked his car. He looked up at the house proudly, following Essek’s own gaze.

“We were pretty lucky to get it,” Fjord hummed. “It was a bit of a fixer-upper, but we’ve put a lot of work into it and it’s paid off.”

“It was the pit money,” Yasha added softly.

“Pit money?” Essek repeated incredulously. “You were pit fighters?”

“That’s actually how we met,” Caleb said as he idled up besides them as Beau opened the door. “We were all earning a bit of extra money in the pits at Alfied, and then we realized we could be much more successful as a group. That’s how we got the name, the Mighty Nein.”

“Group pit fighting is much more dangerous,” Essek observed. Pit fighting was a nationally recognized sport, derived from the business of the old adventuring parties of old. Groups of fighters or individuals would fight each other or magical beasts in tournaments, and betting on such events was a whole industry in it of itself.

“But, extremely lucrative,” Caleb said. “We had a decent winning streak going, built up enough funds to put the down payment on the bakery as well as this place when we finally made it over the border.”

“You are all an interesting group of individuals,” Essek noted.

“Unfortunately that’s not even the half of it,” Caleb chuckled, the sound warmed Essek all the way through as they walked up the steps and entered the house.

The house itself was a study in the concept of lived-in, in a way that magazines glossed over or attempted to replicate with certain air that was not present. Every nook and cranny was full of things, collectable porcelain cats or tea cups, mismatched loveseats and a couch layered with handmade quilts and decorative pillows of different shades, shininess, and fur. Paintings (done in Jester’s characteristic style and raunchiness, seashells and plants decorated the walls. The kitchen itself was spacious and with a generous island with a slab of what looked like marble along the side. Dried herbs were hung by the window with racks of pots and pans and other utensils.

“I’m gonna grab the pickles from downstairs,” Caduceus was calling from the top basement step. “What’s the plan? Does anyone want my kimchi?”

“I’ll help Cad,” Fjord offered as he plodded over to the basement door. “I think I’m gonna grab the kombucha we made too.”

“Oh! I do! Also, Caleb, do you still have some of the bread you made this morning? Let’s have a grilled cheese party!” Veth offered as she opened the fridge and began pulling out a large assortment of ingredients. “Whose making sides?”

“We got you,” Beau said before Jester joined her and they fist bumped. Immediately they pulled out something from underneath the island and unfolded a seperate table.

“Are you comfortable in the kitchen?” Caleb asked, and Essek realized that he was talking to him. He had just been standing there by the coat rack, taking everything in.

“Uh...enough to survive,” Essek said, though, even that was doubtful.

“Why don’t you join Yasha, she’s very good at prepping ingredients,” Caleb said as he tied an apron around his waist, and Essek looked towards the larger woman who nodded at him.

“Of course,” Essek said, hoping to find some sense of himself with a smaller task.

And so Essek was set to work, chopping vegetables and also various meats. Yasha stopped him a few times to correct the way he was slicing a vegetable, and Essek committed to watching her in an attempt to learn something. She handled a knife with a sense of ease and finesse that Essek hadn’t expected but was determined to copy. It also provided a good distraction from Essek staring at Caleb...though he often found his eyes drawn to Caleb regardless. He moved effortless through the kitchen, slicing homemade loaves of bread, frying, popping trays in the oven, tasting when someone put a spoon to his mouth and dispensing advice. He and Veth worked like a well oiled machine, in fact, all the Mighty Nein did, moving with a kind of partnership that seemed to Essek to be as organic as moving limbs. But more than that, his shoulders and arms made a pretty picture…

“Alright! Grilled cheese party is complete! Let’s eat!” Fjord said, grasping the platter filled with the sandwiches as Beau and Jester finished placing down the sides in the living room. Caleb patted to the cushion next to him on the couch, and Essek sat down in it woodenly. He could have never done something like this at home as a child, Essek thought. Eating dinner in the living room? What if something spilled on the rug or ruined the chairs or the couch? And yet, none of them seemed concerned in the least.

“Essek’s our guest, he gets to pick the sandwich he wants,” Caduceus seemed to remind the group as Veth swatted at Fjord’s hand who stuck his tongue out at her.

“No, don’t worry. You all pick what you like, I’ll just take whatever is left,” Essek said, staring at the mountain of foods in front of him with hesitance. Caduceus poured the drink into his glass, and smiled at Essek.

“Would you like a suggestion, perhaps?” Caleb asked with a soft look that soothed his soul. Caleb reached over to scoop one of the sandwiches off the tray and placed it gently there, he also carefully placed the salad that Beauregard and Jester had made. “This is perhaps my favorite post-drinking food. It’s called a Croque-Madame. I made the bread myself, so I hope you enjoy it.”

Essek, a bit daunted by the giant sandwich on his plate, stared at it in awe. It really was a thing of beauty, toasted bread oozing with cheese, covered with a browned bechamel sauce, and topped with a perfectly fried egg that popped with the lightest touch as Essek cut into the sandwich with his knife. Essek carved out a bite, and brought it to his mouth and nearly melted right there. The bread itself was a revelation, flavorful (in the tangy way that only good bread was) and light with a certain open texture you just couldn’t get in the supermarket. The cheese was earthy and nutty and melty while contrasted with the smoky-sweet-salty of the ham, and the unexpected warm spice and perfect dash of mustard...completely rounded out with oozing golden yolk and the sprinkling of herbes de provence. Essek took his next bites alternating the vingerary-acidic charred cabbage-and-scallion slaw that Jester and Beau had made, as well as the broccoli-parmesan-anchovy bake that Fjord and Veth were nearly fighting over.

“I don’t know how you manage it...to make everything taste so good,” Essek said, taking a long sip of kombucha. He yawned, feeling so full he couldn’t take another bite. Essek looked up to see Caleb looking at him, with an intense expression that had Essek nearly blushing. Ah, it was rude to yawn at the table.

“Food always tastes better when we are eating together,” Caleb noted, looking at the lively table they were surrounded by. The grilled cheese on Caleb’s plate was half eaten, and Essek looked at his own in realization.

“I took your sandwich, didn’t I?” Essek said. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, watching you enjoy it was enough for me,” Caleb promised.

“Here-” Essek said, spearing a forkful and lifting it before he realized what he was doing. Essek cringed, opened his mouth to apologize. But instead of refusing and turning away, Caleb leaned down and took the bite. Eyes fluttering for a moment, cheeks warmed through as he seemed to consider the flavor deeply. Essek was watching his mouth, he really couldn’t look away as Caleb’s tongue sweeped out for a moment and he caught a drop of the sauce on his thumb. Oh Gods, Essek thought desperately, looking away quickly, as if just looking at Caleb could burn. How did this man even turn chewing into the sexiest thing that Essek had ever seen? It should be a crime.

“Perhaps my best yet,” Caleb said with a tender look, blue eyes darkened.

“That I don’t doubt,” Essek murmured, taking another lazy sip. Really, the conversation was lively but soft. This whole house was filled with something soothing...the imperceptible thing that made the bakery feel so alive and comforting...settling in his belly like the food that nourished him. Essek wondered what it was as he let his heavy eyelids sink with his train of thought. If Caleb could find a way to bottle it up...Essek was sure it would sell for a fortune. He would find a way...just as everything he touched became magic...

Leaned against something warm, and feeling just the gentlest touch brush his forehead, Essek’s thoughts drifted off into the gentle darkness.

#critical role #critical role fanfic #shadowgast

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