#❝ i know times are changin' -- it's time we all reach out for something new — ( 1984 ) •
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Notable bridges
(Under the cut)
1989 (Taylor’s Version)
Out of the woods
Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?
Twenty stitches in the hospital room
When you started crying, baby, I did too
But when the sun came up, I was looking at you
Remember when we couldn't take the heat?
I walked out, I said, "I'm setting you free"
But the monsters turned out to be just trees
When the sun came up, you were looking at me
You were looking at me, oh
You were looking at me
(Are we out of the woods yet? Are we out of the woods yet?)
(Are we out of the woods yet? Are we out of the woods?)
I remember
(Are we in the clear yet? Are we in the clear yet?)
(Are we in the clear yet, in the clear yet? Good)
Oh, I remember
Wildest Dreams
You'll see me in hindsight
Tangled up with you all night
Burnin' it down
Someday, when you leave me
I bet these memories
Follow you around
You'll see me in hindsight
Tangled up with you all night
Burnin' (Burnin') it (It) down (Down)
Someday, when you leave me
I bet these memories
Follow (Follow) you (You) around
(Follow you around)
Is It Over Now?
And did you think I didn't see you?
There were flashin' lights
At least I had the decency
To keep my nights out of sight
Only rumors 'bout my hips and thighs
And my whispered sighs
Oh, Lord, I think about jumpin'
Off of very tall somethings
Just to see you come runnin'
And say the one thing I've been wanting, but no
Clean
Ten months sober, I must admit
Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it
Ten months older, I won't give in
Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it
The drought was the very worst, ah-ah, ah-ah
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst (Oh)
Wonderland
I reached for you, but you were gone
I knew I had to go back home
You searched the world for somethin' else
To make you feel like what we had
And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad
Oh
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folklore
Illicit affairs
And you wanna scream
Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"
Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me
You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else
Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"
Look at this idiotic fool that you made me
You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else
the last great american dynasty
They say she was seen on occasion
Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea
And in a feud with her neighbor
She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green
Fifty years is a long time
Holiday House sat quietly on that beach
Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits
And then it was bought by me
hoax
You know I left a part of me back in New York
You knew the hero died so what's the movie for?
You knew it still hurts underneath my scars
From when they pulled me apart
You knew the password so I let you in the door
You knew you won so what's the point of keeping score?
You knew it still hurts underneath my scars
From when they pulled me apart
But what you did was just as dark
(Ah, ah, ah)
Darling, this was just as hard
As when they pulled me apart
my tears ricochet
And I can go anywhere I want
Anywhere I want, just not home
And you can aim for my heart, go for blood
But you would still miss me in your bones
And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky)
And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)
august
Back when we were still changin' for the better
Wanting was enough
For me, it was enough
To live for the hope of it all
Cancel plans just in case you'd call
And say, "Meet me behind the mall"
So much for summer love and saying "us"
'Cause you weren't mine to lose
You weren't mine to lose, no
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evermore
champagne problems
Your Midas touch on the Chevy door
November flush and your flannel cure
"This dorm was once a madhouse"
I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"
How evergreen, our group of friends
Don't think we'll say that word again
And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls
That we once walked through
One for the money, two for the show
I never was ready so I watch you go
Sometimes you just don't know the answer
'Til someone's on their knees and asks you
"She would've made such a lovely bride
What a shame she's f*cked in the head," they said
But you'll find the real thing instead
She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred
ivy
So yeah, it's a fire
It's a violent blaze in the dark
And you started it
You started it
So yeah, it's a war
It's the fiercest fight of my life
And you started it
You started it
tolerate it
While you were out buildin' other worlds, where was I?
Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?
I made you my temple, my mural, my sky
Now I'm beggin' for footnotes in the story of your life
Drawin' hearts in the byline
Always takin' up too much space or time
You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I
marjorie
The autumn chill that wakes me up
You loved the amber skies so much
Long limbs and frozen swims
You'd always go past where our feet could touch
And I complained the whole way there
The car ride back and up the stairs
I should've asked you questions
I should've asked you how to be
Asked you to write it down for me
Should've kept every grocery store receipt
'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me
Watched as you signed your name Marjorie
All your closets of backlogged dreams
And how you left them all to me
Right where you left me
Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?
Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it
She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy
How it was supposed to be
Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?
Breakups happen every day, you don't have to lose it
She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy
And you're sitting in front of me
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Blighted Hearts - Ch. 4
SUMMARY: Tardif intends to collect on their deal, whether his partner gets cold feet about it or not. Meanwhile, at the abbey, Bigby comes to terms with the fallout of the night before. No Beta. Read at your own risk.
PAIRING: Bounty Hunter x Houndmaster / Abomination x Flagellant
RATING: EXPLICIT (for sexual themes / men kissing / groping / blood / injury / sadism / aggressive affection / throat squeezing / blackouts / Tardif gets a little too rough, but Fergus keeps him in check / they use a safeword)
WORD COUNT: 5,868
READ ON Ao3: -> HERE!!
A/N: Please mind mind the tags/warnings! My first attempt at writing BHxHM. Let me know if you guys liked my interpretation of how their relationship would go. Also, consider dropping a like or reblog if you enjoyed! It really helps to keep me writing which means faster updates for you guys! <3
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William had matched Tardif’s excited pace all the way back to their cabin. He had to admit that the thought of experiencing something so new and dangerous had an erotic effect on his mind as well.
Even with the mask now secured around his partner’s face, the houndmaster knew there was a cunning smile hiding under there, the air of anticipation growing by the minute.
Then suddenly, everything changes. The spell of arousal dissipates like an icy splash of cold water, a somersault of feelings as if the ground beneath him has been pulled out from under his feet.
Too quickly the world comes crashing down, becoming all too real once the familiar outline of wooden logs fill his sight, symbolic now for a house of dread and doubt that he has not the fortitude nor stamina to deliver on what he's promised.
Without him realizing it, the houndmaster's stride shortens, his steps slowing down to delay their inevitable destination.Tardif has too keen an eye not to notice the difference. With a grunt, the bounty hunter wraps an arm around his partner's waist, pulling him astride to match his pace.
William lets himself be escorted along, giving in easily enough, abiding at least for the moment. Once they climb up the steps, reach the front door, Tardif flips his boyfriend around, slamming him against it, probably harder than necessary, his predatory nature taking precedence.
The houndmaster utters a muffled whine as his mouth is dominated, gloves feeling up his sides, squeezing him by the handful.
The sack the blonde carries is squished between them, the spoils of food suffering from the impertinence of two sussed men. The bounty hunter keeps up the pressure, lets it go on for as long as he thinks his partner can stand not to breathe.
"Thought we agreed, after dinner," the houndmaster pants, a blush already forming on his well-rounded cheeks.
"Want ya now," the mercenary huffs, leaning in for another kiss. William feels his heart race, another round of impatient lips meeting his. Not to say Tardif wasn’t passionate during their love making, but this aggressive side he usually buries for his partner's sake is now unbound and mid-pounce.
"B-but the food," the gentleman whimpers once they part, his whole body quivering.
"What ‘bout it," the brute smirks, but he speaks of another kind of hunger.
"That wasn't the deal,” the houndmaster argues, trying to dissuade the advances, lessen his pulse.
"I am changin' the deal."
"You can't," the blonde squirms, his insistent counterpart grinding against him.
In a heroic feat, the houndmaster manages to twist around, forehead and baguettes wedged against the door. He’s not mentally prepared for this, needs more time to process it, the mood be damned.
He finds the key ring on his belt, fumbling with the lock, his hands shaking too much to fit it properly.
Tardif growls low in his throat, the sound growing louder, almost feral at the display of rejection. Just as he reaches for his fair-headed lover again, he's stopped, something tugging on him from behind.
Fergus has him by the gambeson, growling with equal fervor, playing tug of war with the leather in her teeth.
It’s enough of a distraction that William finally opens the lock, beating a hasty retreat inside.
The houndmaster sets their food on the kitchen table, taking a few hurried breaths. He holds himself up by his hands, closing his eyes as he talks himself through the surge of anxious jitters.
It's alright, he can do this. He just needs to go about it at his own pace.
Humors realigned, the lawman takes to emptying the sack, spreading the ingredients out when Tardif steps inside, Fergus following after.
The canine approaches her master, offering the carrots with a shaggy wag of her tail.
"That's a girl," he smiles, taking the half-slobbered parcel from her muzzle. He sets it down along with the other vegetables, reaching into his pocket to procure a small milk bone for her trouble.
“Here, go on and relax.”
Fergus eagerly takes it, the houndmaster giving her a brief pat between the ears before she scampers off to her dog bed in the corner. He watches as she curls around her favorite toy, a stuffed duck, finding her stashed rawhide next to it, taking it between her paws to chew.
Tardif latches the door closed, locks it with a harsh clatter, giving the houndmaster a look that could kill lesser men. He doesn’t approve of putting a leash on himself, taming the desire, but he’s forcing himself to behave with a bout of spite.
"Why don't you wash up," William suggests, trying to keep the nervous waver out of his voice, "I'll get a start on things here."
The bounty hunter obeys without a word, his receding bootsteps heading towards the washroom.
William gives a sigh of relief, hoping the amorous brigand will have calmed down by the time he gets back.
Not wasting any more due diligence on needless worry, the chef rolls up his sleeves.
He arranges the kindling, lighting the open stove and while the fire billows itself into a steady blaze, he rinses off the carrots and potatoes in a small bowl of water, setting them upon the cutting board once they're done.
Much to William's distress, he can feel the instant the bounty hunter returns; the temperature and ambiance of the room intensifying by droves. The brute seems constricted, like a tightly wound spring that's one twist away from snapping and while the houndmaster may have thought of a new task to keep him busy, he's almost too scared to ask.
“Would you mind lighting the candles,” he asks sweetly, cautiously, “it'll be dark soon and it would be nice to see your face.”
The mercenary grunts, this noise sounding more receptive as he sets about completing the request. This menial labor wouldn't preoccupy him for long. The cabin was only one floor and there were only so many candles.
The houndmaster was never one for extravagance, finding their shack cozy despite its size, quaint despite its age, giving it his own homey touch with crochet doilies and embroidered curtains that he had the pleasure of curating himself.
The eclectic craftsman does his best to finish chopping before the frisky warrior can return, knowing his efforts are unsuccessful when a solid body slides up from behind him, William nearly cutting his finger in alarm when a gratuitous grope to his rear percolates.
The blonde tries to ignore the slip, prepare their meal, but these interruptions are certainly making it more difficult to concentrate.
"How about you set the table?"
The bounty hunter growls like a slingblade, retracting his person with barely restrained violence. The next sound the beastmaster hears is a loud bluster of dishes, the ping of silverware as it’s haphazardly tossed around the placemats.
Such chaos only adds to William’s endless well of stress, but he manages to get the pot to a boil, dumping in the poorly sliced produce, starting a saucepan of roux before his partner returns to fondle his hips.
"Could you help me stir the gravy," the blonde asks, looking to keep his partner's idle hands out of his personal space.
"Yeah, 'spose I could do that," his gravelly voice grumbles, reaching around to grope at the fly of William's pants.
"Not what I meant and you know it," he huffs, knocking his meddlesome touch away.
All he gets is another seductive chuckle, hot breath fanning against his neck, the fire of arousal stoking in his gut as Tardif pulls down the red scarf to taste his skin.
William pretends he doesn’t feel it, continuing on as normal, but he can't stop the stutter in his movements, the inhale of breath that gives him away and that damned mercenary keeps growing bolder.
Teeth drag upward until they’re biting at his ear and the houndmaster yelps, nearly burning his fingers on the stove.
"Aiye, putain ca fait mal!"
He sucks the afflicted finger into his mouth, the bounty hunter snickering at the mayhem he's caused, reveling in his misfortune.
He couldn't imagine how it must be for their enemies, handling the two of them together, the mark of the wolf's whistle and the unrelenting swing of an axeblade. He's experiencing some of that notorious prowess now, gaining a new respect for his partner's cutthroat techniques, but this was a different kind of battlefield.
"Tardif, either dinner is on the table in the next 5 minutes or I am retracting my offer."
He sounds like a disappointed mother, but he doesn’t care. He’s reached his breaking point.
"Ya wouldn't dare.”
It was unlike William to challenge him, Tardif being the more domineering personality between them, a born leader set to conquer, and he does not know whether he loves or hates this display of opposition.
"Are you willing to risk it," William counters, expecting rebellion, knowing where his partner's weakness lies.
The bounty hunter spares him a long pause, one of stoic uncertainty, the fear of losing his prize born in the reflection of his eyes.
They stand upon the precipice of a temporary truce, William silently congratulating himself, this small victory hard won.
"Potatoes should be done. Why don't you drain and mash them?”
Tardif has no choice, but to be accommodating and prompt.
—
Through some miracle, they manage to get dinner on the table with their pants still on.
Despite the unruly conditions under which it was prepared, their plates hold a hearty spread of mashed potatoes, steamed carrots, and meat pies topped in a heap of gravy. Not the healthiest meal by any means, but certainly a filling one.
They sit facing each other and therein lies their differences in table etiquette, William with a napkin draped across his lap, Tardif not seeing much of a use for his, elbows resting uncouth on the kitchenware.
Usually, the frenchman prefers to have a vase of fresh cut flowers as their centerpiece, but in the heat of things today, he'd forgotten to pluck them from the garden.
A candlestick replaces the colorful bouquet, bathing them in a warm amber light and while it had the appropriate ambiance, he can't help feeling a bit lacking by the small imperfection. A delicate arrangement of petals were always a more tasteful feast for the eyes.
Fixings of butter, salt and pepper are stashed around the base, a basket of toasted baguettes sliced for the taking just beyond that.
William is too mesmerized by the way Tardif wolfs down his food to even think about touching his own. It leads him to wonder if the savage barbarian could even taste the delicious blend of spices he'd chosen to season it with.
Then like magic, the bounty hunter’s plate is empty, the back of a gloved hand sliding it to the side, a smug gesture of victory on his half-hidden face as he licks at his lips.
The barbaric lout thinks he has the upper hand, having fulfilled what William had asked. The houndmaster tries to ignore this, but his partner's stare is persistent, penetrating, about to devour him next.
The prongs of the frenchmans fork play with the whipped peaks of potatoes, rolling it around on his plate, sometimes taking a measly bite, drawing out the agony minute by minute and Tardif seems to have caught on.
"No more waitin'," the brute declares, growling in warning because he's done playing nice.
"I haven't finished eating yet,” the fair-haired chef contests, poking at his food.
"I have."
Does a bloke like William, naive as he is, realize Tardif could just take it from him if he wanted?
Hn, well now. Maybe, that's exactly what he should do.
Tardif waxes the strong quiet type, calculating as he stands up from his chair, the wood squeaking from the friction of his exit.
The houndmaster recoils in his seat, eyeing him wearily as he draws closer with pointed, foreboding advances.
The mercenary leans over to the mostly untouched plate of food, sliding it away from its place setting, mirroring what his own abandoned plate looks like on the opposite end.
William wants to protest, every fiber screaming for it, but he says nothing.
His next action is spontaneous, grabbing the beast tamer by the scruff of his gendarme vest, forcing him out of his chair, cutlery sprung and forgotten in the disarray.
The brute watches as his partner struggles to remain calm, drags him up higher, letting him hang there in his grip until the dignified facade unravels bit by bit.
Once he sees the twitch of fear, Tardif knows he's won, throwing his partner's back onto the rickety furniture, the dishes clattering from the weight.
The impact sends Fergus into alert, her attention drawn to the scent of her master's hastened pulse, floppy ears shrugging, beady eyes scrutinizing.
A glove wraps itself around the blonde’s throat, the squeeze not potent enough to be deadly, but William finds it no less hard to breathe.
If the houndmaster really wanted, he could defend himself with the knife and fork, sick his trusty hound on him, but Tardif knows he's too soft-hearted for that. He wouldn't even try to take a swing.
"Tardif," he strains, his fear palpable as he paws at his partner's hand.
"Said I could,” the mercenary reminds him, not accepting any criticism now, “rough as I wanted.”
William supposes he can't argue that point. As hard as it is, he swallows, some of the nervousness dropping down into his gut along with it, trying to remain neutral, tolerant, passive.
“Try to enjoy it.”
William swears he's trying.
The brute seeks the unfinished plate of food none too far away, smashes it across the edge of the table with a harsh racket.
The wolfhound barks, rising to her feet, supper now turned a sharp splattered mess across the floor.
Such a waste of porcelain. They could have used that.
“It's alright girl,” William shushes, “I am alright.”
Just who is he trying to convince?
Tardif takes what remains of the fragment in his hand, wipes it against his gambeson, cleaning the smooth parts of the excess debris.
The crude blade is shorter than a dagger’s length, the brute turning the jagged piece in the candlelight, assessing its potent curves for William to see.
"Just want to carve you up a bit."
The bounty hunter tells him this as if the words themselves are powerful enough to render what he's about to do painless, humane, even pleasurable.
William doesn't feel any of that, holding his breath as his partner stalks the improvised blade over the sweat of his temple, down the surface of his cheek, across the bristled hairs of his neck.
The anxious blonde flinches at the sound of torn cotton, forcing his eyes shut to the reality of Tardif cutting a line down his shirt.
The bounty hunter admires his work, using the serrated edge to pry apart the fabric, letting the point play along the hole that connects him to the brass of sun-tanned skin.
The first incision is clean, shallow, enough that it shouldn't scar later, a culmination of Tardif’s twisted ethics, defending what sadistic harm he's razing upon a good and honest man that doesn't deserve it.
The bounty hunter waits until he sees the predictable show of red bubble up from the wound, leaning down to lick up the satisfying sight.
William takes it bravely, squeezing at the table runner for some tether to keep his mind from treading into dark waters while the bounty hunter experiments with a few more cuts, some deeper, some longer.
It's when the shiv starts to bore crude holes into him that it becomes too much, the pain of the experience testing his boundaries, enough that he shows it now in his eyes.
“Tardif…”
Usually, the sight of blood doesn't bother him, but maybe it's because its his own and that it’s painting Tardif’s tongue that it triggers some switch within his brain.
Fergus growls, up from her bed in an instant, looking positively rabid.
The clever girl knows she can't penetrate the scales of the bounty hunter's armor so she bites at his pant leg, right above the boot, snarling to high heaven.
She tugs on it in emphasis, fangs ripping it, but when that still doesn’t deter the human, the formidable canine stands up on her hind legs, goes for the tender flesh of his arm.
"OK, OK," Tardid grumbles, dropping the weapon, “I get it. No more cutting.”
The wolfhound lets her dominance sink in (as well as her teeth) before she finally leaves off, the threat effectively neutralized.
The canine is more concerned about aiding her precious human anyway, nibbling gently on the lawman’s fingers, a jarring stimulation that helps him to regain consciousness.
Fergus barks as her master's eyelids flitter, recovering from his blackout like the wonder of smelling salts.
“What happened,” he asks, moving to sit up, holding his disoriented head in his hand.
"I happened."
This answer only confounds him more so Tardif finds it best to speak plainly.
“Ya passed out.”
Acknowledgement passes through the yellow of his eyes, followed by the shame of disappointment.
“Ah. Sorry."
Did he really just apologize?
A moment of silence passes, William coming to terms with how truly fragile his body is, how he hates that it's more cannon fodder toward what Tardif has been saying to him all along. Maybe, they really are bad for each other.
The blonde shows proper care for his dog, lets her lick his palm, petting around the long gray furs on her face.
“Good girl.”
Determination now set upon his face, a depravity of emotion nearly bringing him to tears, he regards his lover.
"We can keep going.”
Just like that?
Tardif appreciates his moxie, the willingness to continue, but he prefers his bedmates to remain functional and awake rather than spread flaccid in his arms.
"Hn, not sure if we should."
William finds that he is less afraid of the cruelty of the acts themselves and more terrified of Tardif losing interest in him for being too vanilla.
"I … I just got a bit over stimulated. That's all."
"Teh!”
If only it were that simple.
“Maybe now's a good time to settle on a safeword?"
"You think we need one?"
Tardif snorts at the irony of the lawman's quirked saffron brow.
"After what happened? Probably, yes."
The bilingualist takes a moment to ponder his options, stroking over the spun gold of his beard.
“How about, ‘saindoux?’"
"’Sando?’"
The frenchman chuckles at his partner’s pronunciation.
"’Sane-due,’” he corrects him with more of an english speaking accent, “I could tell you why, but you'd probably hate me for it."
Tardif has no reason to question his judgment, enjoying the mystery of not knowing.
"If it’s saindoux you want, then it's saindoux we’ll use."
William smiles at how the bounty hunter enunciates the word, showing off his sudden eloquent mastery of it.
It's exchanges like this that the houndmaster remembers how he'd grown to love him so dearly, despite his own heart knowing better than to get involved with a man so cold and full of hate.
“Let's try again.”
—--
It doesn't quite pan out as they expect it to. Fergus is speaking her disapproval with a series of gnashing yaps, trying to dissuade their poor taste of exploits, smarter than the two horny men combined.
"Shh, down girl. I am alright."
The shaggy mutt huffs at being waved away, pacing before dropping back into her bed with an irritated bluster, setting her muzzle upon her forepaws.
"Why dontcha just say it?"
Tardif sounds frustrated, having some deep primal need unmet because the blonde has surrendered his body, but not his voice, wanting to hear him say the aforementioned word aloud.
"Maybe … maybe I want to see how much I can take, just like you," the frenchman pants, the hot candle wax drying on his chest.
Tardif's eyes soar at the confession, returning the melting candle safely to the iron placestand where it belongs.
"Damn fool. This is not how yer meant to be loved," the brute grumbles as if coming to the realization himself, "We both know it isn't."
"How you want to love me is just fine," William contests, about to argue the point.
No matter how many times he says it, Tardif remains unconvinced. There's no denying the ruinous state he's in, the once kind unblemished houndmaster now stripped down to his socks and garters, battered with scratches, bruises, bite marks, and yes, even pearls of wax, though his scarf hides the striations around his neck.
“Turn around.”
Such directions only bring worry and confusion to the saccharine butterscotch of William's face.
“Said turn around.”
Another petulant command, the houndmaster moving to obey, albeit gingerly, his body now ravaged and sore.
Tardif takes off his gloves, finds the olive oil not too far away on the counter, slicks his fingers with it. He slides them between the folds of the beastmasters ass, pushing two in gently, parting him open.
“Oh,” the lawman cries, exceptionally sensitive here and the bounty hunter knows it.
He finds all his secret spots so easily, attacking them without remorse and soon William is rock hard and dripping under his poignant touch.
All the dread is carved out from the houndmaster's litany of keens, showing more enjoyment now than he has for the other machinations of his itinerary, the mercenary more than receptive to the feathery coos he's making.
Unfortunately, with the position they're in, William’s dick is wedged between the wood of the table, making it difficult to reach. Still, he attempts to stroke what bare skin he can, but it's hardly worth the trouble. It would be so much easier if he could just --
“Tardif, please let me up.”
“No.”
“But I am going to … all over the table.”
He can't bring himself to say it; the word is just too obscene.
“Use a napkin then.”
“Merde, I am never going to look at this table the same way again."
“Heh, good.”
His spare hand reaches for some semblance of decency, something civil to mask his next lewd act, but all he finds is a poor, innocent placemat to squander himself with. He really doesn't want to ruin it and there's no time to plead morality. It’s too late anyway, he’s already milked his release all over the wood.
While the spent blonde collects his breath, still reveling in the aftermath, the mercenary tends to his own trousers, pulling them down to rub oil over the length of himself.
All William hears is the tumbling of his partner’s belt as it piles around his ankles, feels the press of something that’s too big to be his fingers stretch him wide, past his limit. His nails are scratching lines into the surface of the table, crying out as Tardif slips his erection inside while the bulge of his muscles are still good and relaxed.
The bounty hunter lets a shiver run through him, pausing to savor the sensation of William clasped around him, callous hands squeezes the plump fat of ass cheeks as if to hang on, curb his orgasm.
“Damn, you're sweet,” he purrs, licking his lips, running callous hands all over the fine hairs on his backside.
He slaps the fairer color of his bottom, feeling the tremor of vibrations pass through their flesh, grabbing him by the hips and pounding into his deepest chateau, the grip insufferable.
He leans down to nip at William's neck, his shoulders, whispering against them.
"Think I like havin' ya as dessert."
The houndmaster answers by reaching behind him, wrapping an arm around Tardif’s cowl to pull him in for kiss, tasting him with an open tongue. How he can still manage to be so charming and generous despite what harsh torment he’s been put through, the brute can only marvel at it.
He cossets William's chest in rugged caresses, pinching at his nipples, easing the man up from his forced submission to do so properly. He eats up his partner’s syrupy moans, William clinging to him, using up all his stamina to remain just as they are.
He lifts William up by his thighs, saving him from this burden, treading backward until they hit a nearby wall. It’s there that Tardif reaches his peak, filling his partner up with liquid passion, a copulation of grunts and huffs as he jerks his hips skyward.
"S'il vous plaît,” the blonde pleads, “Just a little more. I'm almost there."
Tardif does something he doesn't expect, he withdraws, setting him back down on the wabble of his capricious feet.
"Quoi – why are you –?"
The mercenary spins him around, takes his scruffy chin in his hand and consumes the decadence of his mouth. He leads them forward, plotting the few steps it takes to find the table, bumping into it’s four corners with a grating crick, all while sucking and biting at the frenchman’s tongue.
The loud noise has the pup stirring again, making Tardif smirk as he plants reverent pecks all over the legion of wounds, repenting for his sins, going lower each time he does so. The houndmaster leans against the counter, one burly arm to hold his posture as the brute adds affectionate accouterments to his stomach, sinking down to his knees. Hands roaming wherever they please, his lips find William’s legs, his thighs, then the head of his cock.
"You could have just finished me as we were. Why this? I know you don't like it," the houndmaster asks, brushing hands over the scuffed metal of his helmet.
"Got some making up to do," he grunts in answer, sucking leisurely.
It's not how William foresaw the ending of their evening, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. This was a rare treat, almost worth the torture he's endured tonight, to see a proud man who refused to look weak exposing his vulnerable side, doing so for him.
"Chéri, mon bien-aimé,” William purrs, tilting his head back, getting close again, “si bon…”
Tardif grunts, but it sounds more like a hum, knowing the passion of such words, getting a thrill whenever his partner weaves such pretty music with his voice. The blonde can practically feel the smug smile, stifled lips molded around the shape of him.
William shudders, gasping as his orgasm hits with a swell of beautiful splashes, a tincture of heat. Everything feels heightened, the pull of his skin, the chill of sweat, the warmth in his core.
"Ah, tu es merveilleux."
"That means I was, 'good,' right," Tardif asks, wiping his lips.
Honeysuckle eyes are on him, full of contentment, soft working hands stroking over a harsh stubble.
"Oui, very much."
"OK, that word I know."
"You should really learn more francais."
"Oh, but yer teachin' me plenty. Trust me."
William laughs at the suggestive brow arched in his direction, guides his partner up to grace him with a warm and welcoming kiss that has all the tidings of home.
"Mon petit savant."
The two share a lingering gaze, jasper and tiger's eye meeting in the middle.
“Hn. Stay.”
An odd request, one that has the fair-haired man blushing as he sits upon the tabletop. William looks to Fergus, the pooch echoing his obedience from her dog bed, giving a small chuckle at how in tune they are.
Tardif returns with a blanket, wrapping it around the lawman’s comely set of shoulders. The blonde scarcely has time to feel its warmth before he’s hefted up by a pair of strong, capable arms.
“Where are we going?”
“To bed a’course.”
William clicks his tongue.
“Insatiable monster,” he scoffs with a censure shake of his head, sharing in the brute’s voracious grin.
“Thought ya liked café au lit.”
Ah. He didn’t realize Tardif would remember, taking to the phrase almost as well as the countless times the frenchman has said it.
“I do,” he admits.
“Then shut up and let me make you a cup.”
—--
"Help me with the bar," Reynauld asks his fellow man, the leper lord positioning himself on the other end of the barricade.
With their combined strength, the two men make quick work of the cellar doors, hefting them open with a beveled screech.
Junia stands at the back, towards the base of the stairs, watching as they liberate Damian and Bigby from their voluntary confinement.
"I'll hold the rear, protect our good lady," calls Reynauld, occupying the spot beside her.
Well, that was quick. Baldwin hadn't heard him move, even in all that armor plate.
The poet doesn't address the knight's fear of beasts, lets him stay safely behind, having no such qualms about facing whatever may be lying in wait on the other side.
He was used to this, saw it as an extension of his duty. Whenever there was something that needed to be carried to the basement (usually another relic meant for long-term storage), Baldwin was always volunteered to do it by his peers.
His gentle soul likes to think it's because of his incredible self-reliance, enduring even in his withering condition and not because most are too scared to come down here (or deal with an obsessive flagellant).
For one who does not visit often, the horrid condition of the dungeon is obvious, his mouth hanging agape as a wicked tale of tragedy is spelled out before him.
Everything inside is practically demolished, busted wood and metal contraptions, blood and claw marks as far as his eye can see.
He looks for some clue to the whereabouts of the men held prisoner together, wondering if perhaps they were still alive and in one piece.
He finds evidence of two bodies huddled around a sheet, trails of blood splatter leading the way, but that was never in short supply when Damian was around.
Striding over with an urgency, the leper first checks over the lump that is Bigby, turning his gaunt frame over.
He takes the unconscious soul into his arms, telling himself it's strictly to survey his wounds and not at all because he wishes to touch him.
The rivulets of crimson streaked across his mouth are of the most noticeable concern, the leper tracing cursed fingers over his lips, realizing the dried blood had not come from him, but from someone else.
Bigby blinks, awakened by these inspections, a blur of white and gold not quite coming into focus, the young man reaching up to brush across the plains of metal and flesh.
"D-Damian … is that you?"
No, this scent is different. It's familiar, someone he knows, but this touch is foreign, unknown to him and whoever they are, they shouldn't be this close.
In a flurry, the lycan clambers out of Baldwin's bandaged arms, a whirlwind of limbs.
He puts some distance between them, panting heavily on his haunches like a defensive beast.
"What's going on," the wolfboy demands, his memory of the night still fuzzy, clutching at his aching head.
His senses return in modicums, double vision, vague memories and feelings.
And then it hits him.
"Damian," he calls gently, clambering to his lover's side, holding his limp body in his arms.
“Damian! Hey, Damian are you OK,” Bigby shouts, shaking him with frantic abandon.
The injured man doesn't respond, no matter how hard he tries.
"Please, please wake up," he begs him, groveling before the Light's mercy, tears falling onto the flagellant's pale cheeks. "It can't end like this. It can't."
"Let me have a look," the leper offers, extending a morose hand, a silent observer through all of this.
Bigby clenches the priest's broken bones tighter, protective and unwilling to trust him in the hands of another, even though it was his own claws that caused this.
The remorseful young man is able to talk himself to some pantheon reason, sobbing out an, "I am sorry," against his partner's brow.
Reluctantly, he relinquishes his partner to his fellow hero, thinking that perhaps the leper is of steadier mind and expertise.
Baldwin handles the turnover with a compassionate touch, knowing what this man meant to the abomination.
He holds a bandaged hand up the flagellant's nose, feeling the barest wisps of breath, scanning lower for a pulse in his neck, a slow beat nearly imperceptible.
“Calm yourself, friend. He yet lives,” Baldwin smiles, basking in the wolfboy's jovial expression of relief.
“Truly? You're sure he's not –”
“If I feared his life was at its end, I would tell you.”
Leave it to Baldwin to make such awful circumstances mold into a silver lining, a horizon free of storms.
With that calm but firm assurance, the former king stands, lifting Damian along with him.
"Where are you going," the abomination asks, paranoid that the flagellant would be taken from him, never to be seen again.
"To the infirmary," Baldwin advises, "I suggest you follow."
The abomination nods, trailing behind the bereft mogul as they exit the chamber, finding Reynauld and Junia waiting for them.
"Oh dear! What on Earth happened," the vestal asks, her face a look of unbridled mourning as she runs up to her fallen comrade.
Baldwin's focus remains on the wolfchilde, catches how this engagement snuffs out what embers of hope he had into meaningless ash.
"Junia," the fallen king begins, "may I ask you heal him, please."
"Yes, of course," she nods, a radiant glow emanating from her blessed tome.
"Thank you."
“Yes, thank you,” Bigby adds, forcing a smile despite what inner turmoil plagues his mind. This analeptic at least lessening the weight.
“We’re headed to the infirmary, just as a precaution of course,” Baldwin explains, looking to his companion.
Junia nods, stepping aside to allow Baldwin and Bigby to ascend the staircase first.
"Come, let us go," the knight ushers, wanting to leave this dank underworld behind.
The vestal remains unresponsive, a moot contemplation as she stares off into space. The haunting look in the abominations eyes ... so distant and yet so irrevocably drawn inward to himself like a beartrap of guilt that can only end with him gnawing off his own leg.
"Sister," the knight prods, adding a stern edge to his voice, "Junia."
"Wha– oh! Reynauld! Do forgive me. I was miles away."
She can practically feel his skeptical eyebrow arch beneath his helmet.
"Are you well enough to walk?"
"Yes, I'd say so," she smiles, schooling her expression.
The knight nods, eager to depart when he hears her shaky voice call out to him again.
"Uhh," she starts, holding out her glove, "Did it not strike you?"
"Strike me?"
He turns to face her, defensive, as if this were a duel of swords.
"To what do you speak?"
The young woman averts her gaze, speaking in hushed tones, flushing as she clutches the holy book tight to her bosom.
"Finding them like that … together."
"I know not of what you mean, dear sister," he deflects, brushing her off to begin his solemn march up the stairs, ignoring the wicked curl in his gut, rattled by what his own chaste eyes had seen.
#my writing#bounty hunter/houndmaster#dd bounty hunter#dd houndmaster#darkest dungeon#dd#darkest dungeon houndmaster#darkest dungeon bounty hunter#dd abomination#dd flagellant#abomination/flagellant#darkest dungeon abomination#darkest dungeon flagellant#houndmaster#bounty hunter#abomination#flagellant
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Come gather 'round people Wherever you roam And admit that the waters Around you have grown And accept it that soon You'll be drenched to the bone If your time to you is worth savin' And you better start swimmin' Or you'll sink like a stone For the times they are a-changin'
– Bob Dylan
Two years ago, I said conference realignment wasn’t dead. But I had no idea it was going to look like this.
Just think about what’s happened since Georgia beat TCU in the National Title game back on January 9th:
February 9 – Texas and Oklahoma negotiate a buy-out to leave the Big 12 for the SEC one year sooner than originally planned so they can start conference play in 2024.
June 30 – The PAC-12 announces they have reached an agreement to let Southern Cal and UCLA to begin play in the Big Ten in 2024.
July 27 – Colorado announces they will leave the PAC-12 for the Big 12, starting in 2024.
August 3 – Arizona, Arizona State, and Utah leave the PAC-12 for the Big 12, also starting in 2024.
August 4 – Washington and Oregon leave the rapidly evaporating PAC-12 for the Big Ten, beginning play in 2024.
And it’s not over. There are two big shoes left to drop.
The first is the ACC. They are caught between the rock of $100 million per school payouts in other conferences and the hard place of their rigid grant of rights agreement that seems destined to keep their teams in second class status through 2036. We should expect grumbling from Clemson, Florida State, and North Carolina to grow louder as we move forward.
The second is Notre Dame, whose exclusive football media deal with NBC expires in 2025. They currently get $26 million a year from NBC. That seemed like big bucks when they signed it but it’s merely walking around money now. Will the Irish be forced into conference affiliation? Probably, if they want to keep pace with the market.
For college football purists, all of this change is unfortunate. However, it was inevitable. Evolutionary change was absolutely going to happen given all the money that’s at stake. There was no going back, and the status quo wasn’t sustainable.
What will the college football landscape look like in ten years? Tough to say, but I think it is not unreasonable to expect a formal confederation of the Power Conferences (right now Big Ten, SEC, and Big 12) into their own playoff and championship – a Premier League with a playoff and no relegation, if you will. Everyone else will be stuck with the NCAA trying to figure things out.
Or it could be something else entirely. We’ll see.
As far as this season goes, here’s what I’m thinking about Clemson, Michigan, and South Carolina.
Clemson – One of the things I like about Dabo Swinney is he doesn’t hesitate to make a change when change is clearly needed. His hire of Garrett Riley, late of TCU, is only the latest example of that. My suspicion is that change will pay off in big ways this fall. I still don’t know if the Tigers are fully back to their play-off level of a few years ago. I’m thinking 10-2 in the regular season, with another ACC title game appearance. After that? We’ll see.
Michigan – All the pieces are in place for the Maize and Blue to make another playoff appearance. The offense should be fantastic this year and most of the key pieces return on the defense. The schedule sets up nicely too, with four cupcakes in September before conference play begins. It’s a good thing the cupcakes are there because Jim Harbaugh will be serving a three-game suspension in September for his mischief with the NCAA. I don’t suspect we’ve heard the end of that, BTW. The Wolverines were undefeated in the regular season last year, but part of me doesn’t see that happening again this year. I’ll say 11-1 in the regular season. After that? We’ll see.
South Carolina – The Gamecocks exceeded expectations in Shane Beamer’s first two years – can they keep it up in 2023? A change at offensive coordinator seems to have given new life and enthusiasm to the players. If the practice excitement carries over to game day, they should score more points this fall. But will the defense be better? Can they pressure the quarterback, get more turnovers, and give the offense good field position? The defense, and the perennial questions about the offensive line, are the keys to the season for the Garnet and Black. Also, it would be really nice if they can avoid blowout losses. The schedule, tough as usual, does seem a bit more manageable. I’ll say 9-3 in the regular season and a nicer bowl game.
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@dawnheroics said: “Can we just skip it? Can you just be kissing me now?“
He should say no. For a million different reasons. But mostly: they didn’t know why he was back or how or if it would even last. That felt like an unnecessary cruelty, surrendering to their emotions only for him to disappear in her embrace. But if there was one thing he had learned about Diana in their brief time together it was that she knew what she wanted, had a way of making her will happen.
Hell. It wasn’t like Steve had ever actually been good at doing what he should either.
Dying had a way of putting things in perspective, anyway, and should … it only mattered so much. Following rules didn’t end wars, suppressing desires didn’t change feelings, wouldn’t actually make it hurt less when or if he disappeared. The only things that could prevent that were done and out the window.
And so with a strangled sound in the back of his throat that was half-curse, half-groan, Steve closed the distance between them with both a speed and force that even Diana herself might have been proud of.
#dawnheroics#❝ can i ask you some questions — ( askbox ) •#❝ i know times are changin' -- it's time we all reach out for something new — ( 1984 ) •#❝ you let this little thing tell you what to queue — ( queue ) •
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Loved your expansion on the scene with the crew in the last manga chapter. Any chance we could get something for 1055?
I’m never hard to ask when it comes to writing my favourite crew, and these last two chapters have been a real treat, so have some more Shanks x Makino and the Red-Hair Pirates<3
Spoilers for chapter 1055! Follows times they are a-changin’, a self-indulgent what-if where Makino has recently joined the crew.
A pirate’s idea of peace
It lived up to its reputation―his conqueror’s haki.
Makino had only witnessed it once before, a long time ago when she hadn’t yet recognised the significance, or even known what haki was, and where she’d simply chalked it up to the way he had about him; that natural air of authority and command.
She knew better now, of course, but even knowing what he was capable of hadn’t prepared her to witness it firsthand.
The sea trembled. There was no other way to describe it, the sheer, unrelenting power where it filled the air, as though it was seeking to fill the whole world―as though it could have if he’d let it, a force so immense it felt like it could command even the horizon to bend.
It made her ears ring, a high, keening noise that had Makino instinctively squeezing her eyes shut.
She heard the ship groaning in warning, the masts and the shrouds where they’d pulled taut, straining against the overwhelming pressure, and felt the reverberations through the timbers, racing up from the planks into her palms where she stood by the railing, gripping the banister for support.
The sound of a sword being drawn had her eyes flying open, drawn across the crowded deck to Shanks, his black cloak whipping around him.
“I won’t call you marines cowardly or underhanded for this, but…”
His voice reached her over the ringing in her ears, the deep pitch making a shiver shoot up her spine to seize her breath in her chest as he continued, “Wouldn’t you agree it’s bad form to go after these worn-out saplings, when they’re exhausted from making pirate history?”
Her skin pebbled, as her breath felt suddenly faint.
She’d never heard his voice like this, her easygoing husband, whose singing could compel a room to silence with a single note and whose laughter was never far behind. But this was something else; a different authority that didn’t inspire submission but that commanded it, as Shanks spat,
“Does the new age frighten you that much?!”
One of the lines above her head snapped, as the banister beneath her hands shot cracks. The air sang with power; in that moment, it felt like the world teetered, the boundaries of their mortal realm splintering under the strain of containing his haki.
It wrapped around her, the onslaught like standing in the midst of a current, not a surging river but a tidal wave, even as Makino didn’t understand how she was able to keep standing.
Her wide-sprung eyes were fixed on his back, the broad width of it unyielding where he stood facing the heaving sea, the breathtaking display stirring a note of genuine fear deep in her gut.
She didn’t know if it was something she did, but she saw him look over his shoulder, his eyes seizing hers, along with her elusive breath.
The deep furrow of his brow made his scars stand out, livid and red, and the terrifying look on his face made her instinctively take a step back, but the gentle touch to her shoulder blades kept her, where Yasopp had come up behind her, his voice pitched under the roar, “We’ve got you.”
And it was that moment outside of Party’s all those years ago, only it wasn’t the same at all; in fact it couldn’t have been more different, like the pirate standing before her now, the Emperor, and so unquestionably that, that for the briefest of seconds, looking for her husband in his face found no trace of him.
Then Shanks let go of her gaze, a release that felt as visceral as his haki a moment later, the sudden reprieve like the world was allowed to breathe again. Staggering forward, Makino was surprised her knees didn’t give out.
Finding her breath, it left her in a shudder. Her hands curled on the splintered railing; she couldn’t stop shaking.
The look in Yasopp’s eyes understood. “Terrifying the first time you see him go all out, isn’t it?”
Her wide eyes still fixed on Shanks, Makino didn’t vocally agree, but then didn’t think she could have found the words, let alone her voice to speak them.
Glancing up at Yasopp, she blinked, noting the tension in his brow. And her face must have spoken for her, because the corner of his mouth tilted, as he said, with a chuckle that carried a hint of strain, “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”
Frowning, Makino was about to ask what he meant when looking across the crew on deck found similar reactions, sweat coating their brows as their grins eased the traces of strain from their faces.
Her confusion had to be evident, but then even if she couldn’t stop shaking, she wasn’t feeling the same exertion―the one she heard in their winded chuckles, as though withstanding his haki had taken a physical toll. But that didn’t make sense, unless―
“He bypassed you,” Bonk Punch explained, as her eyes widened.
He grinned down at the baby on his arm, who’d proceeded to fall asleep in the middle of the chaos, his thumb in his mouth and his free hand curled around Monstar’s tail.
Having opened her mouth, Makino closed it, at a loss for words, but then she could barely wrap her head around the inconceivable force of his haki, let alone the kind of control it must take to purposefully bypass someone. But it explained why she was still standing, although…
“The cat, too?” she asked, looking towards their ship’s cat; the grizzled orange tabby cleaning itself on the railing.
Noting their attention, a pair of yellow eyes swivelled towards them, which had even Shanks’ higher executives taking a step back.
“No,” Limejuice said wryly, having come up to her side with the others, surrounding her now, although they all gave the creature a wide berth. “We don’t know how, but it’s not affected by Boss’ haki.”
“Demon cat,” someone whispered.
They all observed it warily, as though at any moment it might unleash something worse than their captain’s conqueror’s haki.
One leg stretched into the air as it cleaned itself, Whiskey appeared unconcerned by his audience.
Finished with its wash, it did a languid stretch, and she felt how the pirates around her tensed, only for it to limp nimbly down the railing to butt its head against her shoulder with a purr. Smiling, Makino scratched behind its ears.
The slide of a sword against its scabbard drew her eyes back to Shanks, finding him sheathing Gryphon. He still had his back turned, his focus on the sea beyond the railing, the broad width of his shoulders drawn in an uncompromising line.
The high collar of his cloak hid his face, but recalling the look on it earlier, Makino suppressed a shiver. Her ears were still ringing, and her knees were trembling so badly it felt like a breeze could have knocked her over.
At least she understood why they called it that now. The will of a conqueror.
She felt suddenly foolish for being so unprepared, especially given where she was, a flush rising under her collar at what he must have thought of her reaction. This wasn’t her quiet seaside village; this was an Emperor’s ship, and the man standing before her wasn’t the same she’d seen wearing one of her frilliest aprons, singing to her crowded bar, and drawing her in for a dance despite her laughing protests.
The image flashed before her eyes, his sword drawn and his cloak rippling as the sea bent under the force of his will, before she hurriedly blinked it away.
Looking out over the sea found the surface restless, the choppy waves bigger than they had been earlier, shoving against the hull, the lurching movements of the ship leaving her suddenly dizzy, and touching her belly, Makino focused on breathing through her nose.
Someone called for assistance with the lines when movement in the sky drew her eyes up from the busy deck. At first, Makino thought it was just a bird, but peering closer, her eyes widened as she realised what she was looking at―or rather, who.
She felt the slight tug within, and even if her observation wasn’t yet on par with a trained haki user, she recognised the sensation of having been noticed.
Her breath hitched as she withdrew from the railing, severing the connection before it could fully take shape, although had a sinking feeling she hadn’t been quick enough.
“Makino?”
She saw Yasopp follow her gaze, his brow furrowing under his headband. But the Admiral didn’t attack, although watching him disappear among the clouds, Makino couldn’t help the impression that she’d just done something terribly stupid.
The remaining pressure in the air had relented, and she heard the pirates around her expelling breaths, and shaking their heads as though to clear them.
“Phew! Been a hot minute since we saw Boss get serious!”
“If that doesn’t terrify the newbies into behaving, I don’t know what will.”
“Well, we’ve got Makino aboard now. If seeing Boss go all out doesn’t scare them into obedience, she could always look disappointed. That usually keeps the veterans in line!”
“How many do you reckon went down this time? That looks like a record to me.”
The mention made her turn around, only to halt in her tracks, her mouth dropping open.
“Shanks!”
Her voice had him turning from the sea, only to find her gaping at the unconscious bodies littering the deck. “What?”
Her terrified awe all but forgotten, Makino gestured at the pile of bodies, her voice taking on a shrill pitch. “Look at this!”
She didn’t know what she’d expected, but his grin lifted some of the seriousness from his handsome features. “They’ll be fine,” Shanks said, as though she’d just expressed concern about the weather. “Nothing a hangover cure won’t fix.”
“Ah, hazing the newbies,” Yasopp sighed, arms crossed where he grinned down at their newest members, out for the count. “Never gets old. Wonder if anyone peed themselves this time.”
“One by my count,” Hongou said, head cocked at the cabin boy in question, face-planted on the planks next to the mop he’d been using to scrub the deck.
“Two,” Snake corrected.
“Three,” Lucky added.
“Honestly,” Makino huffed, busy moving between the prone bodies, checking that everyone was still breathing. The rest of their crew watched her, endeared by her distress.
One young man stirred at her gentle touch to his cheek, blinking up at the sky blearily, before his unfocused gaze settled on her face.
“An angel?” he asked, as Makino blinked. Then after a beat, “Am I dead?”
“You’re fine,” Ben said, without looking up from his newspaper. Unlike the others, he hadn’t even glanced up from the article at their captain’s demonstration.
Still kneeling between the fallen pirates, Makino was about to tell them that they were all being far too casual when a shadow fell across her, and she started, only to find Shanks holding his hand out to her.
Her eyes lifted from the broad palm to his, a gentler look in them now, and their gazes held for a beat before she took it, her hand tiny in his but his grip around it gentle as he drew her to her feet. If he noticed how badly her knees trembled, he did her the courtesy of not pointing it out, although he didn’t let go right away, his thumb sweeping her knuckles as she steadied herself against him.
She saw his brows knitting, tugging at his scars, and ducking his head to catch her eyes, “You’re okay?” Shanks asked. His voice had changed, the hard inflections gentler, the way she knew it, even if she couldn’t forget the sound of it when he’d addressed the Admiral. “It didn’t touch you?”
She shook her head, although heard the quaver in her voice when she assured him, “I’m fine.”
When the weight of his brow only deepened, she attempted a smile, as she quipped, “I’m surprised you went through the trouble of shielding me. Here I thought you would have jumped at the chance to have me swooning from the sheer force of your presence.”
His boyish grin was startled, and her stomach fluttered when it lifted some of the tension from his brow, although she felt the graze of his knuckles to her belly, half-hidden beneath her bodice as Shanks told her, “I would, but I’d rather it was the delicate my-stays-are-too-tight kind of swooning, not the foaming-at-the-mouth-and-accidentally-peeing-yourself kind.”
“Fair,” Makino chuckled, although wondered what percentage she might have withstood if he did try, and what it was like to feel him like that, recalling how overwhelming it had been when he hadn’t even let it touch her.
She saw his smile falling, his scars deepening as a crooked knuckled tipped her chin, as Shanks told her, “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine,” Makino said, although realised belatedly that she was repeating herself, and saw he didn’t buy it, but then couldn’t blame him when she couldn’t stop trembling. But attempting a smile, “It just caught me off guard. I’ll be better prepared next time,” she said, tilting her head as she quipped, “Maybe I’ll even swoon a bit.”
Her heart skipped at the grin that split his face, sweeping away the worry on it, as lifting her hand, Shanks kissed it to her fingers.
Breathing out, she leaned into him. He was so tall it was hard to look him in the eye most of the time, but his big frame offered a fiercely welcome reprieve, allowing her to retreat into it now as he pressed a kiss to the parting of her hair. The skin bared by his shirt was warm under her hands, trembling over the swathes of dark hair glimpsed by the open front, the taut muscles beneath her palms reassuringly sturdy, and the cheeky flex of a hard pectoral dragging a thick giggle from deep within her, the sound like uncorking a bottle, as her shoulders let go of the nervous tension she’d been holding, and sensed that he felt it in the way his whole body relaxed.
Cheek pressed to his chest, she searched the sky above the masts, but there was no sign of the Admiral, and she nudged the thought of him away before it could grow roots.
Looking up sought his eyes, gentle under his scars now as Makino murmured, “Guess that will teach me to crack jokes about you needing to prepare.”
The corner of his mouth crooked. “No, you were right,” Shanks said, as she lifted her head from his chest to look at him. “Overconfidence is the quickest course to defeat on this sea. And what kind of advocate for the new age would I be if I didn’t acknowledge the strength of those bringing it about?”
Her smile softened. “You’re in that category, too,” Makino reminded him. “A new sapling can’t grow unless the soil’s been tilled. If it weren’t for pirates like you, there’d be no new age.”
Her eyes went to his left side, where his cloak draped over his shoulder, but then she hadn’t just been referring to his interference now.
The wry tilt to his mouth didn’t fully agree, but touching her cheek, “Farming metaphors aside, you’re giving me a lot of credit,” Shanks said.
“That’s not usually something you turn down,” Makino pointed out.
Shanks just smiled. “It’s the role of the old to pave the way for the new,” he said simply, brushing a lock of hair from her brow with his finger. The wind had dragged it free of her braid, along with her kerchief. “I’m just doing my part.”
She leaned into the touch, feeling the tender sweep of a calloused thumb over her cheekbone. But cocking her head at him, “Did I just hear you refer to yourself as ‘old’?” Makino asked.
“Mature,” Shanks corrected. “Aged like a fine―”
“Cheese?” Yasopp shot in, which earned him a spluttering reply, and rousing laughter from the crew surrounding them, with the exception of the newbies still out cold by their feet.
Shanks’ voice rose above the din, as easily as before, although this time with laughing outrage. “Cheese?!”
“There’s cheese?” Lucky asked around a mouthful of food. From behind his newspaper, the corner of Ben’s mouth jutted around his toothpick.
Makino watched them, smile soft, the familiar dynamic that hadn’t changed in all the years she’d known them, even if they’d grown, in numbers and notoriety. But it was still her crew, and her captain, the Emperor in sandals and a half-buttoned shirt that looked more suited for lounging in a sun-chair on a seaside port; a casual ruggedness that defied the demonstration of monstrous power she’d just witnessed, like his grin, watching as he threw his head back, his laughter lifting under the shrouds to fill the sails.
A party was promptly declared, barbecue included, and amidst the cheerful chaos on deck, she retreated to the palm tree grove, collecting their son as she did, still asleep as Bonk Punch helped put him into her arms, before gently prying Monstar’s tail from his fingers.
She caught Ben’s eyes lifting from his newspaper as she walked past, a knowing look that she delicately ignored, but then while she hadn’t passed out where she’d been standing, Makino doubted her reaction had been any more subtle.
The stillness of the grove was a welcome change from the crowded main deck, and she hadn’t realised how much adrenaline she’d been feeling before she felt it trickling out of her now, a sudden exhaustion replacing it, like she might have gone to sleep right in the grass.
For his part, the baby in her arms hadn’t stirred, his head resting in the crook of her neck where he slept, no more touched by the restless sea than by his father’s haki.
From the ship’s stern, she watched the mainland of Wano Country shrinking, the distance growing like the ache in her chest, but then it had been the closest she’d been to seeing him in over two years.
Lost to her thoughts, she didn’t notice him arriving until something heavy settled over her shoulders, and started, only to find Shanks lifting his brows at her where he’d come up behind her to give her his cloak.
“Did I scare you?” he chuckled.
His grin didn’t suggest there was anything more in that question, but, “You just surprised me,” Makino said, as he wrapped the cloak more securely around her, and wondered if she’d had the right guess, from the way his look softened as she murmured, “It’s the day for it.”
Strong fingers followed the curve of her shoulder, adjusting the high collar. The cloak held the warmth of his body, the heavy fabric engulfing her smaller frame, blocking out the wind where it cut through her clothes, and, “Thank you,” Makino murmured, pulling it closer and breathing in the familiar smell as Shanks bent to kiss to the top of her head, before resting his chin atop it.
Tucking it around their son, “He’s getting so big,” she sighed. “I still remember Luffy at this age. One moment he’s in diapers, then I blink and he’s liberating countries.”
Shanks grinned, watching their son drooling on his cloak, a rough knuckle wiping it away from a soft little chin. “He’s a little young yet to be liberating countries. At the very least, he should be out of diapers first.”
“It wasn’t that long ago that Luffy seemed too young,” Makino pointed out.
Shanks just smiled, his eyes crinkled with a thought he didn’t share as his eyes lifted from the baby to Wano in the distance.
Makino tried to picture it, the beautiful country beyond the volatile sea, but then she’d devoured every morsel of information he’d told her about it. She was still saddened she hadn’t gotten to see the cherry blossoms, but then there were so many things she would have loved to see, places and people he’d told her about, and in that way he had that made them come alive, and more than any story she’d ever lost herself in.
“I know you wanted to see them,” she said, after a beat had passed, and saw him look at her. “Oden’s children.”
If she’d expected regret, it wasn’t what she got, as smiling, “Just gives me more reason to make a return trip,” Shanks said, his eyes warming as he took her in, and the baby in her arms. “There are a lot of islands I want to show you.”
She hummed, leaning back against his chest, warm even through the cloak, as he rested his cheek to her crown. “You better hurry, or they’ll all be under Luffy’s flag.”
Catching his grin, she thought he didn’t look particularly upset by that. “Speaking of; that Barto-guy better watch out,” Shanks said. “I’m all for the kids making history, but I still have my territories to protect. And a rep to uphold.”
“Didn’t you buy a whole bunch of Luffy paraphernalia from the shop they set up?” Makino asked.
Nonplussed, Shanks just looked at her, as though one had nothing to do with the other. “What’s your point?”
She shook her head, although her grin couldn’t be helped. And just an hour ago, she might have made a teasing quip about picking fights at his age, but held her words now, the prickling along her skin vividly recalling his haki, as though it had left an imprint.
They stood for a moment under the swaying palms, overlooking the water, and Wano in the far distance, his broad frame behind her shielding her from the wind where it danced between the ratlines, tugging playfully at his cloak where he’d wrapped it around her. It left him in his shirtsleeves, but he didn’t seem bothered by the wind, his eyes having slipped shut where he’d lifted his face to it, a sharp gust raking back his hair, leaving his face bared.
Makino studied it, the familiar angles and the dark scruff covering his cheeks, achingly handsome, and no evidence of tension in his striking features now, his high brow smoothed and his scars gentle.
She thought of him earlier, facing down the Admiral, although despite their differences, didn’t find the two images so irreconcilable now. But then maybe they’d never been at odds with each other, and it was just her eyes that had opened, seeing him clearly now.
Smiling, she looked in the direction of Wano. “I wonder what he’s doing now.”
"If I taught him anything, he should be celebrating,” Shanks said, and looking up found his eyes open, the lines at their corners deepened with his smile. “No rest for the wicked on this sea, but with any luck, we bought them a breather. They’ll need it, with what’s coming.”
“Do you think they’ve found it yet?” she asked. “The poneglyph.”
His eyes gleamed. “If they haven’t, they better hurry, if he wants to beat us to Laugh Tale.”
The mention had her heart skipping, and watching the glimpse of mainland still visible, “I wonder if they’ll be opening the borders,” Makino said.
He’d told her he’d once offered to help them do it, although hadn’t explained why they’d turned him down, and she was about to ask, but looking up found something passing behind his eyes, a shadow that briefly darkened his whole expression, before it was gone.
She held her tongue before she could ask, but then for all he’d told her, she knew there were things he’d left out, and like his haki, wondered if it was his way of protecting her from the things she found in his eyes sometimes. The burdens he’d brought back from Mariejois, even if she knew he’d been carrying them for much longer.
“Promise me something,” she said instead, and saw him look at her, his eyes clearing of the thoughts that had clouded them a moment ago.
“Anything,” Shanks said.
Turning to face him, she held his eyes, gentle now where they took her in, his whole attention offered, but then it might be a different sea and a new age, but the way he looked at her hadn’t changed.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” Makino said.
His look softened, as his smile crooked. “Don’t worry,” Shanks said. “The kid might be an Emperor now, but he’s still got some ways to go before he can best me. That includes his opportunistic fan club.”
The moment might have called for another joke at their generation’s expense, but Makino said nothing, but then it wasn’t Luffy she’d been thinking about.
The deepening in his eyes told her he was well aware, but he didn’t tell her she was worrying over nothing. But then for all that his attitude to danger sometimes bordered on infuriating, he’d never downplayed what they were up against.
Touching her chin, “I’ll be careful,” Shanks said. “And I’ve got a good crew at my back.” His eyes danced. “Questionable hazing practices notwithstanding.”
A glance over his shoulder towards the main deck found the veteran pirates helping the last of the newbies to their feet, followed by a tankard pushed into their hands and a clap on their back, their laughter reaching towards them where they stood by the stern.
Tipping her chin gently, his eyes held hers, as he told her, meaningfully, “I trust them with my life.”
His eyes lowered to their son, still sound asleep in her arms, both of them wrapped in his cloak, before the rough knuckle hooked under her chin tilted it as he bent his head to kiss her, his beard brushing her lips as her breath hitched.
His hand curved around the back of her neck, tangling in her hair, just as a voice called up from the deck below,
“Bosses! The devil cat’s stuck on the rigging again!”
His breath gusted over her cheeks, as Shanks leaned his forehead against hers. “Never a moment’s peace on this ship.”
Her laugh was soft, although Makino didn’t say that in terms of peace, it was everything she’d ever wanted―the never-ending noise and laughter, and them, their questionable traditions and cheerful contempt of privacy included.
And him, who still surprised her, but it wasn’t fear she felt at what she didn’t know, but then even an uncharted sea wasn’t so scary when you trusted the one at the helm.
Flicking her eyes up demurely, “So if hazing the newbies with your haki is a tradition,” Makino said, and saw his eyes darkening, hooded under his scars where they held hers.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Captain.”
#Shanks x Makino#One Piece#One Piece 1055#Shanks#Red-Haired Shanks#Akagami no Shanks#One Piece Makino#Red-Hair Pirates#Akagami no Shanks x Makino#Red-Haired Shanks x Makino#Shanks/Makino#opspoilers#op spoilers#One Piece spoilers#One Piece chapter 1055#mungoe writes#fanfic#opfanfic
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The Undead collab
for @biaswreckingfics the undead collab! such an amazing collab and I am honored to write for Lay.
summary : The world had been destroyed. Zombies. Yes, you heard me right. Zombies took over humanities. They said it was conspiracy, others said it was planned, someone said it’s a bio weapon but you? You said this was fate and this was meant to be. In the middle of the chaos, your last proof as being a human started to disappear. And in times where you wished for safety, you did finally come to find the man who’s been embracing you in your dreams. Your online sugar daddy.
Semi smut (not explained just mentioned), romance, survival story
members : EXO-M
Pairing : lay x reader
WC : 3702
tw : zombies, daddy issues
The world had been destroyed. Zombies. Yes, you heard me right. Zombies took over humanities. They said it was a conspiracy, others said it was planned, someone said it’s a bio weapon but you? You said this was fate and this was meant to be. In the middle of the chaos, your last proof as being a human started to disappear. And in times where you wished for safety, you did finally come to find the man who’s been embracing you in your dreams. Your online sugar daddy.
You’ve lost count of the days. To be honest day and night don’t feel different as you have to stay alert all the time. There’s no time to rest, no time to slack, and no time to worry about what you left behind. It all started as a gas leak in a big biohazardous factory. The company keeps it secret, slowly affecting the workers there who are trying to fix the leak. It’s not a green smoke like what you would see in a Disney villain movie, it’s a nicely colored pink gas that smells sweet but is deadly enough to churn your organs and make you turn into what the society calls “zombie”
The outbreak spreads faster than the plague, with the infected “biting” the human and changin them into zombies. The conspiracy theories maker believe this was planned as how all zombie films look exactly like this. The scientists believed this were an unprepared bioweapon aimed to be released a century from the latest pandemic in 2020. You? You believe this is just fate and that there’s no meaning to hustle about what’s right. You just have three things in your head. Run, Adapt, Survive.
You’re glad you still have your phone, charger, knife, and a radio to contact any bases that have survivors in them. You’ve survived the days by running, hiding, and stealing big cars to help you run over the town. This morning, you got a signal from your radio saying that there’s some group of survivors on a certain latitude and longitude. You quickly take notes of it, and tell them over that you’re going to join them. As you pick your stuffs and put your compass on, you hear your radio static voice.
“How can we ensure you’re human?” one of them with a deep voice asks over the radio and you roll your eyes “Would a zombie be smart enough to find radio signals and communicate?”
You hear a loud laugh on the other end and you note that there’s more than one person there.
“How many of you are there?” you ask suddenly afraid if it’s a too big group and you have to make hard decisions with bigger parties.
There’s a shuffle and a voice comes in “There’s only 6 of us. I am the leader, Kris and you?”
You start your engine, “I’m (y/n). I’ll arrive before the sun sets hopefully.”
“Good luck and stay safe. We hope to see you in one complete piece. Over.”
--
“Who is it Kris?” The young man with a sweet dimple asks the leader after hearing the short conversation on the radio.
“Oh, from the voice I’m pretty sure she’s a survivor like us.” Kris peeks over the blinds of their hideout and notices how empty the road is.
“Can you reach Suho? I wonder if they survive too.” the same guy asks again.
Kris pats his shoulder “They’ll be okay Lay, don’t worry. I’m sure Suho can take care of the guys. Now, what about we try to find food for tonight?”
Lay sighs “I don’t know. With Luhan being weak today from using too much of his powers, I have to be here to help him heal faster.”
Kris sighs, with the 12 of them divided it was harder to fight the zombies. They are gifted with supernatural powers, but at the moment 6 of them are in another place and its their goal to reunite.
Kris left his radio and went to shower. They call themselves the EXO-M, with 6 members of their own powers.
---
You stop over an abandoned supermarket, after making sure there’s no one around, you quickly hoard all the canned foods and waters. Picked up fires and some warm blanket for you to sleep tonight.
Your journey to their basecamp was not smooth, with you having to walk over some hoard of zombies. With your eyes shut close you hit the gas and just move forward without thinking.
“Hey, hey can you hear me?” your radio suddenly turns on and your ears perk up when you hear the sound.
“Yes?”
There was a sudden pause.
Lay gulps and shakes his head when he hears your voice.
“Sorry, but can you bring us some food supplies?”
You sigh “I already did. You’re lucky but did you know how crazy it would be if I have to go back?”
He groans “You’re a handful aren’t you?”
You were too focused on the road, not filtering your word “I AM. You can say I am a sugar baby at all time, so yeah I am a handful.” you yell that as you strive through some muddy place and you notice there’s a small strong bunker in the middle of the field.
Lay stays silent as he controls his beating heart. Why does something rings a bell in his memory.
He grits his teeth and shake his head “Just come here quick. We have to help our brothers.”
You groan “I am in front of a bunker pretty sure this is where you guys are. How come you can find a place without any infected people?” you ask as you see a man opens the door for you to come in.
“Chen, Tao, Xiumin and Kris go take her foods and keep it safe.”
You yell as the dimpled man grabs your hand into the bunker. You shake it off “Hey, that’s my food supplies!”
“First off my name is Lay.”
“Okay Lay,” you cut him off “Stop robbing my supplies.”
Lay’s eyes turn dark “Hey, you’re the guest here. Don’t you think it’s also dangerous for us to just accept you here?! If it’s not because of Tao’s clumsy hand pressing the radio to give you a signal, Kris won’t bring anyone in.”
You feel offended, “If you don’t want me here you can say that directly. You’re not my master or husband or whatever, i can go if you want that so bad, but let me take all my stuffs with me.”
As Lay was about to spit back words to you, a strong grip separates both of you and you gasp surpsied.
“(y/n) right? Nice to see you come in one piece. I am Kris, sorry if Lay said anything that hurts you. He’s been alert for the last two days trying to heal our exhausted brother. I apologize on his behalf.” Kris, bows at you in a respectable angle and your anger fumes down. He sure is the leader and you’re glad his words didn’t sting.
“Thank you Kris, I like your welcome better. I came here with supplies, I want to share it with all of you but Lay here just robbed my car.” you sneer at the tall man and he just rolls his eyes.
“Lay, would you mind taking (y/n) to the bathroom? She can use some shower and you can check if she needs any medical healing.”
“We’ll take care of dinner. Don’t worry, you’ve had a long day. Good job in arriving here.” Kris sends you off and walks away. You sure like how this Kris manners are
You want to protest for being left with Lay but Lay’s firm grip dragging you into the bathroom left you with no option than to follow him.
--
“I’m sorry, your voice just reminds me of someone and I was distracted.” he suddenly speak up from the shower stall next to you.
You turn your neck to see him, the shower walls are not that tall for Lay. You can see his head from the side, but it covers your height nicely.
You gulp and continue washing your hair, facing the other way as you always did when you wash your hair. Your back facing the shower so that your eyes are free from the water.
“It’s okay, i am sorry I was just stressed and tired too. I swear I am not a handful.” you blush when you remember the first introduction between both of you.
Lay has a special memory working in his head and he chuckles “You’ll say I am wild but you reminded me of my sugar baby.”
You blushed, feeling a tingle on your naked body “Oh, in what way?”
He turns the shower off and looks at you “I never see my sugar baby, We both don’t know how each other look. We’re just talking and chatting and having fun remaining anonymous.”
Now it’s your turn to gulp and turn the shower off, you grab the towel Lay prepared earlier and wrap yourself in it “Now that’s interesting. Mind to tell me why you suddenly remember her?”
Lay chuckles and looks to the ceiling “We did voice calls sometimes, and when you said “I am a handful” you really sound like her.”
You bashfully stare at your feet. There's a bothersome fact in your head that also says Lay sounds like someone you know.
“Alright, I guess we need to go join the others?” you reappear in front of him with your fresh set of clothes you just took from the supermarket.
Lay nods “Before that, a quick check. We can’t have you bleeding or injured around here.” He twists and turns your body checking and pressing here and there to see if you have any wound or broken bones.
“You’re quiet strong for you to be alone for days. Just wounds but no big injuries! I can heal your internal injuries so the infected at least can’t smell you that strongly.” Lay explains and you just nod.
“How will you do that?” you squeak and he smiles “You’ll discover tonight.” he winks and your heart stops a beat when memories of a voice comes back to your head.
He couldn't be…
Dinner was better than what you have had for the past days. Somehow the EXO-M have their own food supplies here but they are also running out of foods.
"Before we eat, let's thank you our new sister here (y/n)," the man with doe eyes smile at you nicely and make all the rest of the men stare at you.
You shake your head "No problem, I should he the one to thank you for accepting me inside. That's a big trust you have."
The men chuckles and Kris hushes them down "We sure knows because only special people like us can survive this long." He begins to take the foods on the table and the rest of them also joins.
You were sitting next to Xiumin and he helps you to get your foods on your plate.
"We eat from the same pan, so don't worry. We don't plan to kill you or hurt you." He grins "I am the one cooking so please enjoy it."
You chuckle, if this was Lay's cooking maybe you will be careful remembering how your first impression wasn't good. Though something still bothers your mind when you see him take a glance or two at you.
You learn about their abilities, a supernatural power that helps them survive until today. Just like you, the 6 men here have their powers and they have a separated brothers who also own powers. Their goal is to reunite and survive together but as far as you understand their story, they still cannot reach EXO-K and no news know what happened to them.
Kris was able to fly, making him the one to do errands like finding foods and shelters. Xiumin is their frost guardian. Luhan is gifted with telekinesis that's why when there was an attack, he had to work hard blasting the zombies away. You learned that Chen has a beautiful and powerful voice and he is gifted with making thunder. Tao can mess with time but he hasn't master time travel yet and finally lay. Lay has a healing power.
"So the 6 of you are unstoppable." You conclude as you drop your chopstick when you're done with food.
They nod "We're quite powerful now but you see we're getting weaker. And we need to meet the rest of the brothers to become more powerful."
"So what's your power?" Tao, the youngest, blurts out the question and you laugh
"I don't have a power. what are you talking about?"
Tao whines about how you don't need to hide it from them but you really don't know what they're talking about
"I am just a regular human." You snap and that brings an awkward silence to the room. You see kris looking cross at Tao and you can't stand the stares so you excuse yourself to hide in the only place you've been. The bathroom.
You turn the sink on and wash your hands, trying to cool your head down but you cannot focus when you see the small tattoo on your wrist. A tattoo of your family surname. You run your fingers over it. Feeling your tears collect again when you remember how they all died on the first week of the apocalypse. You lost everyone and everything you love. You're forced to run and you're so young to survive because your father reminded you that whatever happen go run for your life and leave your loved ones behind.
You wash your face, trying to hide the tears that fall on your cheeks.
when you hear another footstep coming into the room, you turn the water off. You saw him coming and you expected he'll greet you with a "Stop wasting the water silly" but all you heard was a sweet deep voice you've always heard on your lonely nights. On nights where you feel so lonely and dark thoughts loom around.
"May I little one?" A voice you remember.
You turn your head to face him and shake your head "Are you really who I am thinking?"
Your heart screams "Yes daddy," but that doesn't leave your mouth.
He stops and stares at his feet "Are you someone I am thinking of?"
Both of you don't answer the questions. Instead, Lay sits down on one of the benches there and you lean on the washing table.
"You really remind me of my online sugar baby. I hope she's doing fine. I hope she survived. I cared a lot about her."
You let Lay continue talking.
"She said she likes to shower backway, her face away from the shower head. You did that earlier and I was surprised. But hey coincidence could happen right."
You blush laughing a little "You sound like you really care for her."
He nods "She's my favorite."
You play with your hair "Tell me more. I guess listening to stories like this is better than just getting asked about how my journey here looks like."
Yes you really don't need a reminder on how scary getting chased after a mob of zombies is.
"I don't think I'll ever hear from her again." He suddenly leans back and closes his eyes
"Oh how I wish i ever see her."
You fish your pocket and grab your phone out
"Do you want to borrow my phone and maybe look up her account?" You pass him your phone and he looks interested
"We didn't get the chance to take our phones when we had to evacuate. Silly us right." He brushes his hair back and you caught a glimpse of his abs.
"Will this ring a bell to you?" You clear your throat and calm your heartbeat.
"Sugar sweets here ready for you daddy" you close your eyes ready to feel embarrassed if things didn't go as planned. You can feel your ego crumbling but instead of a laugh or a wtf, you got a reply "Daddy's here sweetie, tell me what you want"
Both of you avoid each other's eyes for a minute. Ears flushing red and stomach filled with butterflies. Both of you suddenly laugh and chuckle
"So, you're my sugar daddy?" You finally ask after realizing how weird this should be but its not that weird.
"And you are my sugar baby!" He smiles "I am glad you are safe and here with me."
You walk to his side and sit next to him "i am sweetcheeks14"
He pinches your cheek "And i am the man behind sinfulwhispers"
The two of you laugh and you exhale a breath to relax
"So. What is it your super power?" You chuckle suddenly feeling stupid for asking that
Lay looks at you seriously "You think we were kidding? I really have a healing power."
Before you can scoff and reply with another power to joke around, he already pulls you to face him and as he concentrates you see his hand sticking out just few centimeters away from the stomach you actually hurt yesterday. Despite your attempt to laugh, you actually feel your stomach ache gone and a warm feeling runs in your body.
"There should be good as new. You're welcome." He clicks his tongue and you still freeze there unable to say anything.
"I- i don't know what to say." You touch your stomach again making sure it is really gone the pain.
He just sits down calmly beside you. Giving you time and space to think what the heck just happened.
“I know it’s confusing, but try to think about this.” he brushes your hair away to see your face. His warm big hand creeps up to reach your chin and holds it there “You’re a wonderful sweetheart and you’ve survived this long by yourself.” he searches your eyes to see if you’re scared of him or not, and when he sees your eyes twinkle, Lay erases the gap between you two.
“You have a super power sweetheart, you just have to embrace it.” he presses his lips on to yours and slowly bites yours.
You give in to his touch, finally tasting the kiss from your sugar daddy and finally just finally you’re not tensed from having to sleep in full alert, not stressed over where to take shelter.
Lay hugs you deep and that’s the time when you realize having someone by your side on hard times like this is the best.
Your tear falls from your eyes and when Lay wants to pull away and wipe it for you, you keep pressing his head to your lips and with one gentle move you flick your tears away only for both of you to jump back in surprise.
“What was that?” he asks suddenly holding your hand that just flick the small tears away and definitely leaves a hole on the toilet door.
You stare at your hands in horror, no way you have a super power.
Lay and you freeze in time, did you have that much power? Is that why you keep on slaying and killin the dead?
“Baby, I have a good feeling.” he picks you up before you can say anything and drags you out into a special room where you see a lot of training equipments.
“Would you mind?” he is already holding a boxing tape and you raise your palm to let him wrap your hands with the tape before he gives you an apple to your hand.
“Okay, now let’s see. We both will throw the apple and see whose will stick to the wall there.” he points to a side and you ask if it’s going to be okay.
Lay chuckles “It’s bulletproof, so let’s see.”
Both of you stand from the same line and throw the apples to the wall, sure enough yours leave a crack mark on the wall but not Lay’s
Suddenly the room echoes with claps and you turn your head to realize that the others are already here.
“We saw you running here with Lay, so we watched the camera.” Kris explained
You blushed, what if both of you were going to fuck, will they still be watching?
“Now, the final check to see if you’re still human is this.” Luhan points to a chair and you look at them confused.
“We’ll take your blood and do a quick lab test, our antibodies will be different if you’re immune to the “zombies” here.” Luhan explained as he already poked a needle into your vein and take a tube to test your blood.
“Go sleep and don’t think or worry about anything. We promise we won’t do anything to you. Take your well needed rest.” Xiumin explains and soon after the brothers discuss, Lay decided to take you into his room.
No one has to know what happens in that four walled space. You’re finally with your virtual sugar daddy and there’s a guarantee that the room is sound proof so both of you didn’t hold anything back.
“I’m glad you found me.” Lay whispers after both of you are done chasing your highs and cuddled nicely under the bed covers.
You yawn “I didn’t expect to finally be in your arms, but I will trade anything in this world to be here. I feel safe. Thank you Lay.”
Lay kisses the top of your head “Love you sweetheart, let’s see the result tomorrow and if you’re totally immune and like us, you’ll stay with us.”
You wonder what if you are not immune, will they throw you out? But before you can ask Lay already hugs you closer and hums a lullaby to your ear.
You settled on not trying to know what will happen if you’re not like them, and choose to sleep trying to think that everything is okay.
--
After all, you’re glad you find them and that they don’t disown you. Because having one more of the undead in their 12 immortal group is a good thing.
#the undead collab#cosmic collab#lay x reader#yixing x reader#yixing x you#lay fanfic#exo fanfic#lay x you#lay x y/n#yixing scenario#yixing smut#yixing fluff#yixing fanfic#lay scenarios
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Reference material
Synopsis: While in Hyougo, looking for inspiration for your company’s upcoming fashion chain, you end up meeting some of the former Karasuno and Inarizaki volleyball team members with whom you sit together and recollect.
So how did this seemingly innocent get-together end up with you having former captain Kita and former Libero Nishinoya try out some thigh-flattering clothes?
tags/warnings: suggested Kita x reader x Nishinoya ✅ thigh appreciation/marking/biting ✅ some Kita in a skirt towards the end ✅
A/N: my first and slightly delayed contribution to The Church of Meian’s Thigh July collab! I originally planned to do this scenario for one of the boys but got swayed by the church’s babes to do both, so here it is! (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ Hope you enjoy and please make sure to check everyone else’s delicious works out as well! ♥️
.wc 4.6k
━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆
Your heart was thumping hard against your chest as you nervously fiddled with your fingers and looked around your living room. You were so skittish that even the smallest sound made you jump and fixate your vision towards the door of your guest room. After taking a deep breath you tried to let your thoughts wander away from the two men that were just beyond the door you were facing.
How did we even end up in this situation…?
Just this morning you’d arrived in Hyougo per your boss’ request to look for inspiration for your new fashion collection. You wandered for hours, observing farmers, workers, students, and whatnot until you decided to take a much-deserved lunch break, and since you were in the home country of the renowned Miya twins, what place was best suited for a short break than Onigiri Miya?
The moment you’d entered the small and humbly decorated shop, you were greeted by the owner himself and his former volleyball team’s captain Kita. While you exchanged the typical greetings with both men, the blond twin came down from the upper floor and, much to Osamu’s chagrin, joined in on your conversation. Just as you and Kita were about to leave and go back to your respective plans the front door was practically kicked open by a short young man and his two companions.
“Well, I’ll be damned…if it ain’t Karasuno’s libero, ace, and moral cheerleader, what’s got ya so far away from Tokyo?” asked Atsumu in a slightly condescending tone. But before anyone could even comment on that, Nishinoya, who most likely didn’t even hear what the man before him said, spread his arms out and happily suggested that you all stay together and recollect over some delicious onigiri.
Thanks to everyone’s enthusiasm, you got roped into it as well and ended up being surrounded by several young men who happily jugged one beer after the other and argued about who gets to eat the last piece of meat.
Fortunately for you, you weren’t the only one that had decided to keep their hands off of alcohol. Nishinoya and Kita had both preferred to stay sober in case something were to happen.
The time flew by and before you’d noticed the group had started to disperse. Asahi, who was surprisingly sober enough to support Sugawara, had gotten up first, excusing himself and his friend, saying that they had to get up early tomorrow in order to catch their flight back to Tokyo. Minutes later Osamu decided to single-handedly put a stop to Atsumu’s flirtatious behavior to which you’d fallen prey to, so he simply threw his brother over his shoulder, apologized to you three, and asked you to simply turn the “OPEN” sign around when you left as he carried the wiggling man back upstairs.
“Alright then…I think it’s time for me to leave as well” announced Kita with a small smile as he started preparing himself. With a firm nod, the young man next to him followed suit and you were about to do the same when an idea popped into your head.
“You two live quite far away, right?” you asked as you pointed your finger to Noya who nodded, telling you that the motel he stayed at was almost an hour away, then you directed your finger to the captain who confirmed that his house was situated at a very remote part of Hyougo.
“Then how about you guys stay over at my hotel room? It’s just a walk away from here and thanks to my boss it’s big enough to accommodate an entire volleyball team and its substitutes.”
Both boys couldn’t help but giggle at the metaphor you’d used and despite the small fear of inconveniencing you, they yielded eventually.
Everything was going smoothly at first, you brought them over, showed them around, discussed where they wanted to sleep, and even had some time to sit down and continue your chat from before, but then Kita, as conscious as he was, just couldn’t let your generosity go unpaid.
“(Y/N), I appreciate ya going to such lengths to help us out, but I can’t let this sit on me like that. Please tell me what ya’d like us to do as compensation.”
From the exaggerated way he talked, one would think that you had done some kind of heroic act and his words were unfortunately inspiring enough for Nishinoya to start demanding the same.
And just like that the two of them had backed you into a corner. You were so overwhelmed that you didn’t know what to tell them so that they were satisfied, but then your eyes caught a glimpse of a red suitcase you had tucked away under the sofa.
“I…I think I know how you can repay me” you silently announced as your hand reached for the object. Both men remained silent as they waited for your terms.
“You see…the reason I’m here is that I was asked to look for inspiration for our company’s upcoming fashion collection and uh…how should I put this…?” Your internal struggle was obvious and the fact that your cheeks were flushed told the men that whatever you were about to ask wasn’t easy for you, so to take some of your nervousness away, Noya placed one of his hands on top of your and with his other one he gave you a thumbs up.
“W-Would you two be willing to try on some of these clothing pieces and model for me?”
The silence that followed made you anxious and you immediately regretted uttering that question, preparing yourself for a rejection, but before you could take it back Kita giggled, followed by a heart-warming laugh from the former Libero.
“So that’s all? Why are you even hesitating on asking us to model for you?” The nonchalance with which both of them reacted to your request was truly unexpected. While you still tried to process this turn of events, the suitcase was taken from your grasp and the men retreated to the guest room to change into the clothes you’d prepared for them…
And here you were, waiting for them for almost 15 minutes. Your nervousness was partially to blame because you couldn’t quite tell them what kind of clothes you’d tucked away in that red rectangular container and the fact that they were in that room for an unnatural amount of time made you wonder whether they’d given it up.
N-No, calm down! They most likely h-have some difficulties with fitting into the garments, si–
…no wait…didn’t boss give me the medium ones…?
While you panicked internally, you failed to notice the two men that slowly exited the room in front of you and with slow steps closed in on you.
“(Y/N)?”
“W-We finished changin’.”
Their soft voices finally caught your attention, making you instinctively look up and the first thing that you noticed was their legs.
Kita had chosen the pair of black latex jeans while Noya had settled for the leather ones. With wide eyes, you take in the view before you. The two defense specialists, whose thighs were so well-toned, were wearing such tight and figure-enhancing pants that you just couldn’t help but stare at their lower bodies.
Being stared at was nothing new for these two, but the way your beautiful and big eyes were fixated on them just because of some unnatural wear, made their cheeks heat up and redden ever so slightly.
“Sooo should we turn or strike some kind of pose?” asked the brown-haired young man with his usual big grin. Before answering him you had to swallow first and then proceeded by affirming his question.
”I need to design something that brings out the wearer’s thighs, s-so if you could…bend forward, kneel or something of that sort, i-it might help.“
A word and a blow, not even a second passed and you watched as the men before you started to arrange themselves in rather compromising positions. The libero went back a few steps, now facing the couch, raised his left knee, and placed it on the armrest. Kita, on the other hand, moved closer to the soft rug next to you, got on his knees, and though a little challenged by the tightness of his jeans, he stretched his left leg back, while he bent his right one at a 90-degree angle before him.
When they were ready, their eyes darted to you, eagerly awaiting your comment or reaction. You cleared your throat and nodded a few times before praising them for the fitting poses.
Having two men dressed in these rather kinky garments excited you more than initially expected. The urge to go up to them and get more touchy-feely than necessary grew with each passing second you stared at them, until you decided to blame whatever you were about to do on that one glass of alcohol you had drunk some hours ago.
You walked towards the captain and intentionally circled him a few times at a slow pace. You knew fully well that this pose was difficult to maintain for a long time, but the moment you saw the slight tremble of his legs, you just couldn’t help yourself.
“Kita-san, please try to stand still.”
“Forgive me (Y/N), it’s just–”
“Give me your hands” you suddenly ordered, interrupting whatever he was about to say. He did as told and placed both of his hands in yours, slightly squeezing them for additional support. With a small smile, you explained what you were about to do and asked him whether he could manage to hold his balance for at least a couple more minutes. It took the young man a few seconds to answer, but he was set on repaying you so a little strain was a small price for your kindness.
You took a deep breath and slowly lifted your hands, causing Kita to raise his own and with them the fabric of his white shirt, revealing the high waist of the latex jeans.
Oh god…I knew it
“Please hold this position for a little and try to move as little as possible, I’ll have to touch you a couple of times to…to get a better grasp of the material and its effects on your body, ok?”
“G-Got it” answered the captain in a silent voice and closed his eyes. You unobtrusively bit your lower lip as you squat down and gently placed your hands on the man’s waist, an unexpected gesture that managed to educe a surprised gasp from the young man. This trousers’ waist, which was covering the entire abdominal area until it stopped a little over the navel, was designed the same way as a corset, meaning it had ribbons on both sides where your hands now were and an entire row of beautifully designed buttons running down to where his underwear probably began.
You slowly moved his shirt up and savored the sight of his slightly trembling abdominal muscles, then continued down to his thighs, his delicious thighs. If you thought the tremble of his tummy was satisfying to look at then ready yourself for something even better. The way he tensed his muscles up every time your fingers trailed his body, combined with his reddened cheeks and slightly heavy breathing made you want to tease him even more and you did.
“Ok Kita-san I want you to let yourself fall back as slowly as you can and when you’re lying on your back, please stretch out both of your legs so that your soles point to the ceiling” you commanded while you hooked your arm behind his back for the additional support he needed to perform the thing you asked of him. If it weren’t for your hand that didn’t let up even once from his left thigh, his movements might have been a tad more elegant.
After almost a minute you had the young man on his back with his legs outstretched, just as you wanted…but was this enough?
“Please don’t be surprised, but I have to…step on you”
“Wha–”
Kita’s wide brown eyes looked up at you in embarrassment as he felt your foot gently push against the back of his thigh. His hand immediately darted to both his mouth and your leg, but before his trembling fingers could reach you, you began moving your foot ever so slightly from one side to the other, enjoying how pleasant the plush skin beneath your sole felt. You’d lost yourself for a second and failed to notice just how close your foot was to the man’s most sensitive area and if it weren’t for the silent mewl that reached your ear, you most likely would’ve stepped on it as well.
In a slight panic, you set down the former captain’s legs and helped him sit upright.
“I-Is that enough (Y/N)..?” he then asked in a silent voice as he tried to look away from both you and Nishinoya, attempting to hide his flushed cheeks and the small tears in the corner of his eyes. You would’ve loved to go even further but seeing him that disheveled forced you to give him a break, at least while you were busy with the other boy behind you.
The two of you watched as the young man retreated into the guest room on wobbly legs. You sighed to yourself, your conscience nagging you with questions such as why you had to go so far and what you were even thinking, and just as you were about to sit back down on the floor Noya’s cheerful voice chirped in: “And, what am I supposed to do?”
When your eyes focused on the shorter man you saw him strike his earlier pose once again with a satisfied grin on his face. Looking at him genuinely enjoying himself made you smile and you wondered whether he’d be able to hold out more than the man before him.
“Could you…step on me?”
He was quite taken aback by your question and his slightly flushed cheeks let on that he was more embarrassed by your request than he might’ve expected. It didn’t take him long to agree though, which in turn caught you off guard.
As he slowly closed the distance between you two, you used this opportunity to take a better look at the pair of jeans he’d picked out. In contrast to Kita’s, Nishinoya’s were made out of leather. They seemed looser and if it weren’t for the laces that were tied around his thighs, up until they reached the area a little above his knees, you were sure that they wouldn’t have fit him. Additionally to this little perk, the designer had chosen to cut from the leg opening up to the middle of the wearer’s shins and then cord it, similarly as most sneakers, making this particular set of trousers more skin-revealing than the former one you “inspected”.
The moment the man was finally in front of you, he didn’t lose any more time than necessary and immediately asked where he should put his foot. With a satisfied smile, you explained that your shoulder was the main goal, but if the laces were too tightly bound then he could set his foot down lower, on your chest for example.
You watched as the young man slowly raised his left leg and as carefully as he could positioned it right between your neck and shoulder. Thanks to the slight tremble of his foot it was easy for you to tell that he didn’t put his entire weight on you, most likely out of fear of injuring you. A small grin adorned your lips as you moved your shoulder a bit and watched Noya freak out and almost lose his balance and fall down. Luckily for him, your reactions were quicker than his and you had taken a tight hold of his leg and hips, supporting him as well as making sure that he didn’t ruin his position. But now, thanks to your little escapade, he was forced to lean on you, so except having one hand on your shoulder and the other on your head, his crotch was dangerously close to your face.
“Um…(Y/N)? C-Can I just redo the pos–“
“Don’t move…this is perfect!”
Confused by your sudden enthusiasm, the young man took a glance down at you and saw how intensely you started at both his thighs and groin. Not wanting to embarrass himself any further, Noya copied the man before him and closed his eyes, giving you the freedom of doing whatever you wanted yet again.
You didn’t want to admit it, but there wasn’t a better way this could’ve worked out. Not only were you able to see how the tightly bound laces made some of his flesh bulge out in between them, but also how these pants had neither a button nor a zipper, and the wearer had to make use of the strings, that circled their thighs, to steady them. You slowly opened your mouth and bit the end of the laces, tugging on them slightly.
“W-Wait, if you do that then-!”
With a smile plastered on your face, you loosened the bow just enough that only the knot remained and murmured: “Sorry, had to make sure that such flashy trousers were sturdy enough to withstand a feline’s possible attack.”
A weak excuse which’s logic he first had to comprehend while you made use of his confused state in order to place your hands on his buttocks and squeeze them as much as the fabric allowed you to. While your hands kneaded his firm buttcheeks, you rubbed your cheek on his thigh, explaining that you and to test whether this design was comfortable for pets. You remained that way for a couple of minutes and softly kissed the young man’s trained leg before slapping his ass a few times, and finally allowing him to stand by himself.
To escape any uncomfortable questions from him, you quickly reached for the notepad you’d placed on top of the decorative table close to you and started scribbling down some nonsense, giving off the impression that whatever you were doing right now was truly work-related and not simply for your own pleasure. Only when you heard the door to the guest room shut behind him did you look up, burying your face in your hands not short after.
Just what am I doing, using them like that…?
Your excuse of using them as reference material was somewhere true, but stepping on Kita and kneading Nishinoya’s ass were not necessary advances you’d done only for the sake of satisfying your curiosity.
Left alone with your guilt, you waited for another ten minutes wondering once more what took them so long. As far as you remember, your boss had only put in these two sets of trousers and two other special items he refused to elaborate on further, telling you to find out for yourself. Now that you thought back, you remembered the pervy grin your boss had shot you after mentioning the suitcase and its mysterious contents, and you couldn’t help but be curious as to what the two men were about to put on and present you.
Speak of the devil, not even a second after you’d formulated your thought and the door opposite of you cracked open as the two young men slowly walked out.
I’m done for…
Before you stood the former Inarizaki captain with what looked like to be a schoolgirl’s skirt and fishnet tights, next to him Karasuno’s legendary guardian of the backcourt with overknee black stockings that he’d attached to his black boxer shorts with the help of a leather garter belt.
Saying that you were at a loss for words was an understatement, this was absolutely jaw-dropping. Now that their legs were almost entirely exposed you just had to come up with some type of irrefutable excuse that would make it possible for you to not only touch their bare skin but also taste it.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest and covered your mouth with your hand, giving them the impression that you were lost deep in your thoughts when in reality you tried to hide your blushing cheeks.
“Ok before I do anything, I need to ask you guys if…if you can deal with pain” you began and observed how they looked at each other and then slowly nodded.
In order to make up for your earlier teasing, you decided to directly tell them what you were planning this time, instead of keeping them in the dark.
“I need to test something out…you see, with such revealing pieces of clothing the buyers often focus on how good pantyhose such as these can hide markings or injuries, s-so I need to mark your thighs as reference” you paused and gave them a couple of seconds to process the explanation you’d offered them before continuing, “the way I want to mark you guys, will have to be with…my teeth. Usually, we’d use a marker or makeup, but neither of those would produce good results with these particular choices of material, especially Nishinoya’s might pose a bigger problem than the ones on Kita-san.”
While you dished out something that sounded professional enough to convince them, you were surprised at yourself and your creativity concerning these white lies. The moment you’d wrapped up your monologue you intended to give them some space so that they could think it over, but much to your surprise, they were quicker on board than expected.
“Are you two s-sure? I mean…I’m asking to bite your thighs here, you know?”
Nishinoya put both his hands on his hips and puffed his cheeks out as he answered: “Yeah so what of it? It won’t be the first time my thighs end up bruised.”
“I agree n’ more than that, we promised to do anythin’ to repay ya, remember?” added Kita with a small smile.
Yes of course…anything to repay me, huh?
The captain’s last few words left a bitter feeling behind, but you shoved it aside and figured that both of them most likely used that excuse to fulfill their own fantasies, just like you did, so in a sense you guys were even, right?
You focused on their legs once more and decided to start with Nishinoya first, so you commanded him to slowly remove the garter belt on his right leg, but the moment his nimble fingers had taken a hold of the leather you immediately stopped him.
“It might be better if someone who has no experience with it takes it off…Kita-san, please undo it for him.”
A small nod that represented said man’s answer was all you got before he got on one knee and started undoing the accessory. You had to admit that the older man’s overly gentle and careful way of loosening the small buckle warmed your heart, but regarding the entire picture, namely Kita in a skirt, kneeling, which caused the fishnet pattern around his legs to dig into his skin, making the plush of his thighs stick out, while Nishinoya stood above him in nothing but a shirt, boxers, and of course, the black stockings that perfectly hugged his toned legs, made your heart thump harder against your chest with each passing second.
Kita whispered a silent done and got back on his feet as he gently unclipped the garter belt from the libero’s briefs, letting it fall along the perfect curves of the young man’s leg. With a small nod, Noya readied himself for you and tried to somehow position his arms so that they don't get in your way.
You copied the white-haired young man before you, kneeling and softly rolling down the black fabric, exposing some of his slightly tanned skin. With your right hand, you steadied his hips, minimizing his movements, and with your left, which you hooked under his thigh, you were now able to turn or raise it the way you needed. To avoid a similar fall from before, you asked if the captain could support Nishinoya, which he affirmed and got behind him, taking a hold of his hands and whispering something that sounded like I’m here, don’t be afraid, I got you.
God, these two…
You turned the young man’s leg in such a way that the inner side of his thigh was facing you and slowly let your teeth sink in his flesh, gradually hardening your bite until it almost pierced his skin. Millimeters before you could draw blood, you stopped and let your tongue glide along the marks you left behind. Without moving yourself too much, you simply turned his leg a little to the side and once again planted your mouth on his still flawless skin, but this time you gently clamped a portion of his flesh between your teeth, started sucking on it until it reddened and finally took on a bluish-purple tone, only then did you let up completely, licked your lips and looked up. The young man above you was leaning on Kita’s shoulder, panting slightly, and looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. You swallowed audibly, rolled the black fabric back up, and gently patted his thigh as a form of release. While he recomposed himself, you took a step back and looked at what you’d accomplished. The bite mark you’d left behind on his inner thigh was barely visible, the hickey on the other hand was quite eye-catching.
You once again grabbed the notebook and scribbled something in it while Kita praised the young man with a rather awkward smile and tried to prepare himself mentally next for what was about to come.
At first, you confirmed the former captain’s readiness, then proceeded to ask Nishinoya for support this time, and finally offered your upper leg for him as some kind of footstep for him to step on, just so you could see his flesh stick out from the rhombus-shaped patterns of his stockings and poke at them for a short while. You asked him questions such as whether he felt uncomfortable or if it hurt when the string-like material pressed down on his skin, only when he answered these questions negatively did you place your hand on his leg, moved closer, and bit down on his stockings, tearing them easily with your bare teeth. That unexpected action of yours successfully managed to make the young man take a deep breath and cause him to hold on tighter to Noya’s hands.
At this point, you couldn’t even bother to come up with an excuse and simply started biting down on the exposed skin. You were so lost in observing how the teeth marks and hickeys you left behind gradually darkened, that only when Kita placed his hand on top of your head did you look up to see his cheeks redder than before and a small smile adorning his lips.
You gave the injuries you’d inflicted a gentle kiss and once again returned to scribbling in the notebook.
“How long do ya plan on keepin’ that fake writin’ up?”
The sudden question caught you off guard, causing you to stop writing mid-stroke.
“W-What…?”
With wide eyes, you looked at both men who started at you with their mesmerizing sharp eyes.
Nishinoya extended his hand towards you with a smile and said: “I’m sure you still need more references for your designs, right? So just come over here and do whatever you’d like…”
…we still have to properly pay you back after all
And with that, you finally dropped the notebook, and your act along with it. Now that you were aware of their true intentions and feelings there was no need for you to hold back anymore.
A few more experiments weren’t going to harm anyone, right?
Since all of this was for the upcoming fashion chain…right?
It’s not like you’d planned all of this out beforehand…
…right?
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu kita#haikyuu nishinoya#hq x reader#hq scenarios#hq kita#hq nishinoya#the church of meian#church of meian collab#thigh july#━𝙷𝚀
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A Kiss From a Nixie
Here’s a follow-up to the ficlet I posted the other day, where, in a Mystery Trio-style AU, Stan meets a frog-lady and falls in love with her. In this ficlet, we learn about the origins of Stan’s frog-lady, as well as the proper term for her species. I’m very happy about this scenario and have been enjoying it a lot. Hopefully, y’all enjoy it, too~
——————————————————————————————
Stan and Angie stared silently at each other. Angie suddenly turned beet red.
“Stanley. I’m naked,” she whispered. Stan felt himself flush at the reminder. He spun around so that she could get dressed without him watching. “Thank you.”
“What- how-” Stan stammered, still with his back to Angie. He took a deep breath. “First question. Is Fiddlenerd a frog too?”
“No. He’s not.”
“Did the frog gene skip him?”
“I wasn’t born like this. It happened while I was at college.” A million more questions immediately formed on Stan’s tongue. “You can turn ‘round again.” Stan turned. Angie was now wearing a flannel top and some jeans. She pulled on a pair of boots. “And no, Fidds don’t know. Actually…” There was a beat. She looked up at Stan. “Yer the first person to know.”
“Wait. Really?” Stan asked. Angie nodded. “Geez.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I…I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, you and Fiddlenerd are annoyingly close.”
“You’ve known Fidds fer a lil while. How do ya think he would react to findin’ out his precious baby sister is sometimes a frog?” Angie asked dryly. Stan winced, already imagining the freakout. “That’s why.”
“Fair enough. How’d you turn into a…I dunno, merfrog?” Angie snorted.
“Merfrog. I like it.”
“I don’t know the real word for…” Stan gestured vaguely at Angie. “…whatever you are.”
“I don’t know it, either. The person what turned me didn’t exactly share that information.”
“Who turned you?”
“A full-time frog person what lived in the pond just off campus.” Angie scowled. “They befriended me, then offered to kiss me. That kiss was what did me in.”
“Why’d you agree to kiss a frog person?” Stan asked. Angie turned pink.
“I sometimes have poor impulse control,” she said quietly.
“Been there.” Stan frowned. “Hang on. A kiss from a frog person turned you into one?” Angie nodded. “I feel like it’s supposed to go the other way around. At least, according to fairy tales.”
“Well, I know the kiss was what did it, ‘cause immediately I started changin’, and the frog person told me that they were excited fer me to live with ‘em.” Angie sighed heavily. “I’ve been a frog ever since.”
“But you can turn human.”
“Yessir.”
“Huh.” Stan looked at Angie thoughtfully. “Y’know, Ford would have a field day with this.”
“Oh, hell no. I ain’t tellin’ yer weird brother. No offense.”
“None taken.” Stan walked over to Angie. “You got somethin’.” He pulled a clump of mud out of her hair. Angie turned bright red again. “Want me to give you a ride back to the house?”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“No problem.” Stan headed back towards the Stanleymobile, Angie close behind. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
“I wasn’t expectin’ to be here very long. Certainly not long enough that I would have a reason to tell someone my secret. But, I don’t know, somethin’ ‘bout Gravity Falls makes me feel pretty content.” Stan glanced back. Angie was looking around, admiring the surrounding trees. “I might want to move up here, to be honest. I can do my research or even help Stanford with his. He was tellin’ me the other day that he wants to hire a biologist.”
“Gravity Falls is nicer than I expected,” Stan agreed. He cleared his throat. “Do you have to go to the pond every day or something?”
“Geez, yer full of questions, ain’t ya?”
“The frog-lady I’ve been chatting up for the last two weeks just turned into my brother’s partner’s little sister,” Stan said dryly. “Duh.” Angie chuckled softly.
“Fair enough.” They emerged from the trees and made a beeline for the Stanleymobile. “I have to shift into my frog form and submerge myself in water fer at least an hour every day. Ideally, I spend more time like that. That’s just the bare minimum to keep myself healthy.”
“Did the frog person who turned you tell you that?”
“Nope. Figured it out through trial and error. Since I got to Gravity Falls, I’ve been sneakin’ out of the house after everyone’s asleep and goin’ to the lake to sleep in there.” They came up to the car. Stan pulled out his key to unlock it. Angie got into the passenger seat, beaming. “I even made myself a nice little hole in the mud to sleep in.”
“You’re not worried about Fiddlenerd wondering where you are?” Stan asked, getting into the driver’s seat. Angie shook her head.
“I’m a deep sleeper with a specific sleep schedule. Fidds knows better ‘n to mess with that.”
“Makes sense.” Stan started the car. “So, you-” Angie sighed loudly.
“Look, I understand that ya have a lot of questions. I’ll answer all of ‘em at some point, but right now, I can only answer one more.”
“Fair.” Stan pulled out of the parking lot. He frowned thoughtfully. “Okay. I know what I wanna ask.”
“Hit me.”
“Did you eat my bait?” Stan asked. Angie looked away hurriedly, though Stan could see a flush spreading across her features, down to her neck. “When I opened my tacklebox after you returned it, the fresh bait was gone.” He held up a hand. “I’m not judging you for eating worms. You’re part frog. But I just wanna know if you ate them.” Angie stayed silent. “Come on, you said you’d answer my question.” After a long pause, she finally replied.
“No comment.”
-----
Angie giggled at Stan’s joke. He grinned proudly, warmth spreading across his cheeks. After spending the day moving Angie into her new house in Gravity Falls, he was happy to have quality time with his sort-of frog sort-of girlfriend. They were at the lake so that Angie could be in her frog form, though Fiddlenerd and Ford thought they were still at Angie’s house.
“Still can’t believe Stanford actually supported leaving us alone together,” Angie remarked. To Stan’s amusement, it wasn’t just the tone of her voice that changed in her frog form. Her thick southern accent was also nearly nonexistent. At first, he thought it was because she was disguising herself. But even after coming clean about who she was, she didn’t have an accent in frog form.
“Ford thinks that I’m more responsible and take better care of myself when I’m dating someone,” Stan said with a shrug. “I’m not surprised he’s encouraging me to ‘woo’ you.” Angie giggled again, a sound like a babbling brook. Stan dug around in the bag of snacks they’d picked up at the gas station on the way over. “Hungry?”
“Yes,” Angie said eagerly. Stan pulled out the container of live bait and set it on the wood of the dock. He lifted the lid. Angie reached out a webbed, frog-like hand and daintily grabbed one of the wriggling worms. Stan opened his bag of chips, smiling fondly at her.
A few days ago, Angie had finally confessed that, since becoming a merfrog, she had developed a taste for bugs and worms. Stan had already known, but he appreciated that Angie trusted him enough to tell him. After all, she was visibly embarrassed by her cravings for creepy-crawlies.
It’s probably ‘cause she was raised to be a proper southern lady or whatever. Angie popped a worm into her mouth. Good thing I don’t care about that.
“Stanley?” Stan looked over his shoulder. Ford was walking down the dock towards him. Angie gasped softly. There was a splash. Without looking, Stan knew she had gone underwater before Ford could see her up close. “What are you doing here, talking to a nixie? I thought you were helping Angie settle in.”
“Nixie?”
“Yes.” Ford sat next to Stan. “That was the creature you were speaking with.” His eyes widened. “Is she the frog-lady you were talking about a few months ago?”
“Duh.”
“I would have believed you if you told me she was a nixie!”
“Wh-” Stan scoffed. “Do I look like someone who knows what a nixie is?”
“Did she not tell you?”
“It’s racist to ask someone what they are, Sixer,” Stan said flatly. Ford let out a soft laugh. “Angie sent me out to grab some snacks, so I figured I stop by the lake to talk to Rana while I was out.”
“Her name is Rana?” Ford asked. Stan nodded. “Fascinating.” He stared at the spot where Angie had been. “Would you be willing to tell me more about her?”
“Nope.” Stan stood up. “You didn’t believe me when I first asked you, and now I’ve learned that she’s an actual person, not some weird ‘anomaly’ for you to study.” He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “And Angie’s probably waiting for me at her place, so I better get going.”
“You’re forgetting something,” Ford said, pointing at the bait still sitting on the dock. A webbed hand quickly grabbed the bait and brought it underwater. Ford’s jaw dropped. “Remarkable.”
-----
It was yet another peaceful, misty morning at Lake Gravity Falls. Stan sighed.
“Enjoying the quiet?” Angie asked from her spot in the lake. Stan nodded. “Have the Fords been especially loud lately or something?”
“The Fords?”
“It’s shorter than saying their full names,” Angie said. Stan snorted in amusement.
“Nah, they’ve actually been quieter than usual. I don’t trust it. They’re up to something.” Angie snickered. “Have you finished the research Ford wanted you to do?”
“Oh, yeah.” Angie floated on her back, staring up at the dusty blue sky. “I finished it real quick. It’s pretty easy to get information from magical creatures when you’re one of ‘em.”
“Maybe you should give Ford a big smooch. Turn him into a frog. He’ll finish his research in record time,” Stan joked. The only response was a soft splash. Stan looked over. “Ang?” Angie was gone. “Something wrong?” Nothing happened. Stan sighed. “What did I say?” Angie slowly surfaced.
“I…” She took a shuddering breath. “I love you.” Stan’s heart stopped. “But I-” Angie covered her face with her large, webbed hands. “I can’t- I can’t act on any of my feelings.” Stan scooted closer, his legs dangling over the edge of the pier.
“What do you mean?” he asked quietly. Angie let out a sob.
“I want to kiss you more than- more than anything. But if I do, then you’ll- you’ll be like me. And I don’t want to turn you into a- into a frog!” she wailed.
�� “Hey.” Stan took one of Angie’s hands. She looked up at him. “That’s my decision to make, okay? If I wanna risk turning into a frog so that I can kiss you, I’ll do that.”
“R-really?” Angie asked in a tremulous voice.
“Remember how you said you kissed that nixie ‘cause you had poor impulse control?” Angie nodded. Stan grinned. “You’re not the only one.” He pulled Angie close. Just as his lips met Angie’s, there was a loud shout.
“Wait!”
-----
Further attempts to pry information out of Stan about the nixie he’d befriended had failed. So, Ford had to resort to collecting his own data. This translated into watching from afar as, every day at dawn, Stan sat on the dock and spoke with the nixie. Fortunately, Ford was skilled enough at camouflage by now that he wasn’t seen. Unfortunately, he was unable to get close without risking being spotted.
That morning, he wasn’t alone at the lake. He had dragged Fiddleford out of bed to come see the nixie for himself. Fiddleford wasn’t pleased.
“Stanford, yer lucky I ain’t the kind of sleeper my sister is,” Fiddleford groused as they hid in the bushes, watching Stan talk to the nixie. “Last time someone woke her up ‘fore she was ready, they got a broken nose fer their trouble.”
“Yes, yes, I’m very lucky,” Ford said. “Now, please, be quiet. It looks like they’re talking about something serious.”
“You won’t hear any of it, no matter how quiet I get. We’re too far away,” Fiddleford pointed out. Ford ignored the logical argument, focusing intently upon the conversation at the dock. The nixie seemed emotionally distraught over something. Stan leaned in, visibly affected by her distress. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close. Then, to Ford’s horror, Stan kissed the nixie.
“Wait!” Ford shouted, bursting out of the bushes. Stan and the nixie jumped. Ford sprinted over to his brother and the magical creature, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind racing.
No. No. This isn’t good. Ford hadn’t had the chance to study a nixie properly yet, but he had read enough about them and other water sprites to know that even touching one could have serious consequences. Stanley, you idiot! Aren’t you dating Angie, anyways? I didn’t think you were the kind of person to cheat! Still frozen in shock, the nixie and Stan hadn’t moved by the time Ford arrived.
“Stanley, what was that about?” Ford demanded. “You shouldn’t just kiss random magical creatures!”
“She’s not random,” Stan said. His articulation was sloppier than usual, almost like he was slurring a bit. The nixie looked at him with sudden concern. “I know her.”
“Yes, but-” Ford ran his hands through his hair. “Kissing a nixie can have unforeseen side effects!”
“I know!” Stan’s speech was definitely slurred. He gestured drunkenly to the nixie. “That’s how she got stuck in this situation!” Ford looked at the nixie. His fingers itched for a pen and paper. Up close, she was just as eerily beautiful as she’d seemed from a distance. Her green, mottled skin glistened from lake water. Large, webbed ears poked out from her short, black hair. But most distinctive were her kind eyes, a soft shade of blue that Ford immediately recognized. He saw those eyes every time he looked at Fiddleford.
Everything clicked into place.
I was right. Stan would never cheat on Angie, even for a magical creature.
“Angie?” Ford croaked. Angie, for he was certain that the nixie was Angie, ignored him. She pulled herself onto the pier, revealing the same hourglass shape she had as a human, but lacking any mammalian features.
That makes me feel much more comfortable with the fact she’s unclothed.
“Stanley, are you all right?” she asked. Stan grinned at her. His eyes were unfocused.
“Yeah, babe.” He leaned closer to her. “I liked that kiss. Go ahead and give me another one, okay?”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What?” Stan seemed blindsided. “Why not?”
“You’re acting either stoned or plastered and I’m not sure which one,” Angie said. Ford’s eyes widened.
“Your accent is gone!”
“I- yes- it- I don’t know why, maybe it’s ‘cause when I first turned frog, I was hiding my accent a lot. But that’s not important right now!” Angie snapped. “Something happened to Stan!”
“Well, you kissed him while in nixie form,” Ford pointed out. “If you’d kissed him in human form, I doubt there would have been any reaction at all.” Angie stared at him. “I’ve never heard of a nixie being able to switch between their native form and a human one.”
“I- my native form is human, you dingus! I wasn’t always part frog!”
“Fascinating,” Ford breathed. Angie groaned loudly. She took Stan’s hand.
“Stanley, sit down for me, okay?” she said. Stan sat down heavily. He grinned at her. “Oof. Uh. Your eyes are dilated something fierce, darling.”
“You’re fierce,” Stan slurred. He winked. Angie grimaced. Footsteps sounded on the deck. “Ang, you’re the prettiest frog in the world.” The footsteps stopped.
“Angie?!” Fiddleford shrieked. Angie immediately dove into the lake, disappearing into the depths. Stan leaned over the edge of the pier.
“Come back, Angie!” he called.
“I have to agree,” Fiddleford said, quickly catching up to Stan and Ford. “Banjolina Quinn McGucket, get back here!”
“Heh.” Stan giggled. “Banjo.” He leaned further. “Banjo!” He fell forward. Before Ford or Fiddleford could grab him, a webbed hand shot out of the water to nudge him back onto the pier. Angie emerged from the lake. Fiddleford fell to his knees.
“Oh, Lord,” he breathed. “I’d recognize that face anywhere. Angie, what happened? How did you become this?”
“I…” Angie swallowed. “Stan can tell you.” Stan leaned over the edge of the pier again.
“I heard my name,” he purred. Angie surfaced further until she and Stan were face-to-face. She stroked his cheek. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“I’m- I’m sorry I did this to you. Rest up.” She looked at Fiddleford. “Take care of him.”
“Angie, you can’t just leave without explainin’ anything!” Fiddleford protested. Angie closed her eyes.
“I need- I need a minute.” She sunk underwater.
“Angie, no!” Stan cried out. Ford and Fiddleford grabbed him before he could jump into the lake. “No!” Stan slumped back and began to sob. “She’s gone. Forever.”
“Stanley, once she’s had some time to collect herself, she’ll be back,” Ford said calmly. “Now, we should probably find some sort of antitoxin to counteract that kiss.” He pulled Stan to his feet. Stan immediately leaned against him. “Fiddleford, a little help?” Fiddleford was still staring at the lake. “Fiddleford?”
“Oh, yes.” Fiddleford came over. He looped one of Stan’s arms over his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Stan, Ford’s right. Angie will be back.” He scowled. “If I have to drain this whole godforsaken lake to find her.”
#there's a lot more developed for this Scenario#so.....if anyone is curious about it and has Questions....my inbox is open c:#Mystery Trio AU#Stanley Pines#Angie McGucket#Stanford Pines#Fiddleford McGucket#Stangie#ficlet#my writing#my stuff#speecher speaks#Nixie AU
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You Weren’t Mine to Lose
Mark Tuan X Reader
Word Count: 9.4K
Genre: Angst
Warning: Mentions of sex, cheating
Summary: You made the mistake of falling in love with someone who was never yours to begin with. What started off as a one night stand turned in to months of sneaking around with each other and devoting most of your time and energy to a man who was already in a relationship. However, the high you get from fooling around with Mark is the only thing that’s been keeping you from going completely insane. But what happens when lust turns to love?
A/N: Hey guys, so I have good news and bad news. Let’s start with the bad news, I had to get a second job (On top of my teaching job and being a full time college student) so this means I won’t be able to write as much as I normally do (I haven’t even started on my new series just yet and I’m sorry for those who are anticipating it I have no clue when I will actually get around to writing it) but the good news is I have two stories prepared to post within the next few weeks so there’s that to look forward to. I hope you’re all doing well, especially after the news of Yugyeom signing with another company but honestly, I am so happy for him. If all seven of them end up leaving the company entirely, good for them. They deserve so much better than the shit excuse of a company JYPE is and I support each and every single member in all of their endeavors and plans for the future. With that being said, happy reading. (Based on August by Taylor Swift).
Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"
But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mineYour back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you
But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine
Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Cancel plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose, no
“Fuck—go faster, please—M—Mark, I need you to go faster—sh—shit shit, just like that.”
Mark Tuan, ever the gentleman did as he was told. However, he would do anything you asked of him during moments like this, God knows he wanted it too. His cock felt so wonderful grazing against your tight, sopping walls. His hardened tip continuously hit the back of your cervix, kissing it with each and every thrust.
The two of you were going at it for almost an hour now; both of you reached your highs after giving each other mind blowing head—but you had yet to come together. You edged him three times, riding him until his cum reached the tip of his cock only to lift yourself off of him, earning you a scowl and the sexiest grunts of frustration.
He left multiple slap marks on your ass; letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you have all power against him. No matter how much fun he’d have whenever you did dominate him and take over the sex session, he wasn’t letting you have all the fun tonight. There was sweat dripping down both your bodies—his entire body was warm with fervor as he continued to leave multiple hickeys along the valley of your breasts.
His breath was hot against your neck as he tried his best to conceal his moans; it was surprising, his room had no echo whatsoever—yet, the many sinful noises falling from his mouth and yours bounced off the walls along with the sound of skin on skin slapping against each other. His thrusts were relentless as he picked up his pace; pumping in to you as if he was trying to punish you for being naughty. His pelvis ramming against your bare cheeks made a loud crack sound each time he pulled out and shoved himself back inside of you.
It was addicting; feeling him bury himself balls deep inside of your pussy, but you were well aware that the sensation had an even bigger effect on him than it did you. Doggy style was Mark’s favorite position right next to watching you bounce up and down on him as your breasts jiggled all but gently. Something about being able to see his cock sliding so easily in to your tight walls drove the older boy fucking crazy.
“Fuck y/n—so fucking tight as always baby. Tell me how it feels—I want to know that I’m driving you insane—“
“Feels—so good Mark—so, so good.”
He hummed contently against the crook of your neck while picking up his pace if it was even possible. At this point, he was practically drilling himself inside of you; it came as a shock that you both still had yet to cum. On other occasions, you and Mark had no problem with reaching your highs with just your hands and mouths alone. Penetration was your favorite part of sex, so you had a feeling your body wanted to indulge in having Mark’s cock inside of your pussy for as long as you could have him for.
“You feel so amazing y/n, I could fuck you for hours. I will never get tired of having your cunt wrapped around my dick. Please—tell me you’re close. I’m about to lose my damn mind here pretty soon.” You giggled softly against his chest; nodding in agreement while placing a few wet kisses near the sensitive spot right below his ear.
“I’m close, so close—“
He bit softly against your collarbone, trying to hide the fact that he was seconds away from losing his will to do anything. You were just that mind blowing. Unfortunately, right as you were about to let the wave of lust consume your entire body like a wildfire, there was a new sound that filled the room. The piercing ring of a cellphone broke you out of your Mark induced haze. T
his wasn’t the first time his phone went off while the two of you were busy loving up on each other’s bodies; there were multiple situations where Mark had to cuss out his friends because they always seemed to try and get in touch with him at all the wrong times. There was even one night where he threw his phone at the wall because it wouldn’t stop ringing. When you felt Mark tense up at the blaring noise, you had a huge feeling you knew exactly who was on the other line. He looked up at you and released an exasperated sigh before doing the unthinkable. You wanted him to ignore it, just like he did almost every single time, but he tapped gently on your thigh; as if he was nonverbally asking for you to put your late night romp on pause.
“Mark, are you fucking serious—“
“It’ll just be a minute, tops. I promise. No funny business, please.”
To your dismay, he reached for his phone and answered the call. It was tempting—the idea of palming his naked sex, fondling his balls or even grinding your wet folds against his thigh—you knew you would get some kind of reaction out of him. Mark was a very sensitive person; physically and mentally. It didn’t take much for him to cry; emotionally and sexually.
He cried in front of you more times than you could count on your fingers. Whether it was because of a sad movie, when school could get a little too much for him to handle or the time he got the news that his grandfather was diagnosed with stage three lung cancer, he didn’t hesitate to pour out his feelings in front of you. You felt special knowing that you were one of the very few people who’d get to see that side of Mark; his soft, gentle, fragile side. Not the confident, overbearing and egotistical asshole he’d portray himself out to be on campus.
During the times you would find yourself on your knees, milking him dry of his white, creamy liquid and making sure his legs would wobble by the end of the night, he’d always cry out in pleasure while begging you to do something—anything to help soothe the pleasurable soreness you caused to his lower body. You knew you’d be treading in rough waters if you did tease him in any way while he was on the phone with her, but you were coming to the point where you didn’t even care if she were to find out anymore.
“Hello? Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?”
You laughed sarcastically in disbelief—what was so important that couldn’t wait a few more minutes? Something had to be wrong with Mark—who in their right mind would put a halt on fulfilling their carnal urges just to answer the damn phone? You rolled your eyes in irritation—it’s because she was the one trying to get in touch with him. His girlfriend of a year and a half, Aubrey.
You never understood why Mark continued to fool around with you when he had a girlfriend. What started off as a one night stand at a house party one of his friends threw a little over five months ago turned in to a dangerous affair between the two of you. For the longest time, you knew nothing of the girl in question; Mark was really good at hiding her existence.
He never told you that he was in a relationship, you didn’t see her at any party or gathering nor did you get a chance to see her around school. But that was because she was his girlfriend from back home. He only saw her during breaks or if she flew up to see him, but for most of their relationship—they were long distance. That was the only plausible reason you believed he allowed this relationship or whatever it was between the two of you to continue.
One day, you were playing games on Mark’s phone when she sent him a message, asking him what he was doing. At first, you just assumed it was a friend of his or maybe even a classmate, but then, she told him that she missed him and told him to call her when he had the chance. You confronted him in anger; sure, you found it completely weird that he continued to see you—especially for more than just sex. The two of you couldn’t even be considered fuck buddies—no, not when you’d go to sleep wrapped tightly in his warm embrace only to wake up in the morning to his signature gummy smile and stinky morning breath.
You’d go on cute little dates—or what you assumed were dates. He’d hold your hand and compliment you on your beauty and whatever outfit you put together that day. He’d call you if he couldn’t sleep, he’d pick you up from and drop you off to school, he’d cook you food if he noticed that you were tired and he even made a playlist of songs that reminded him of you; albeit, most of them were meant for when the two of you would stumble in to bed together, but it also contained songs that were more heartfelt and romantic.
You had a hard time understanding why you were letting him continue to use you. You hated cheaters with a passion; you’ve seen homewreckers ruin multiple marriages within your family and the idea of someone in a relationship fooling around with another person made your skin crawl—yet here you were, fucking with another girl’s boyfriend. You went against all your beliefs and every single rule you were taught to follow just for the devastatingly handsome and sweet talking man sitting right in front of you.
Honestly, you felt bad for his girlfriend. It was obvious that Mark meant a lot to her. She would constantly text him and send him pictures of what she’d be eating or if she went somewhere the two of them used to frequent. You felt horrible; Aubrey seemed like such a sweet girl and she was completely oblivious to the fact that there was someone else involved in Mark’s life. There were so many times you wanted to call it quits with Mark, you couldn’t keep fooling around with him considering the fact that he had someone at home who loved him—almost as much as you did.
When you first found out that you weren’t the only one, you should have told him it was over. You should have told him that you weren’t the kind of person who was fine with committing adultery nor did you want to be the other woman—you were a firm believer in monogamous relationships but you didn’t have the strength to tell him no when he began to leave wet, sloppy kisses all along your jaw. You were in deep and you despised the fact that you were so hooked on to him. Mark was everything you could ever want in a significant other; not only was he the most attractive man you have ever laid your eyes on, but he was soft-spoken and gentle towards you.
At school, he was a cocky prick; his group of friends were some of the most popular guys at your university. It seemed as though every student either wanted to be them, be friends with them or to be with them. But when the two of you were alone, his demeanor would take a 360 degree turn. Sometimes, you’d find it hard to believe that he had two personalities; one meant for his friends and everyone he associated himself with and another one meant for you and only you. It got you thinking though, how did he act when he was with Aubrey?
Did he treat her the way he did you? Was he protective over her? Could she make him laugh the way you seemingly never failed to? Did he get flustered by a single smile or graze of her fingers against his arm? Was he constantly checking up on her to see how her day was going? He hardly ever talked to her when the two of you were together and seeing as how most of your free time was spent with him, you wondered when he had the chance to call her.
There were only two instances where he answered her phone call when you were hanging out together. He always gave you an apologetic frown while taking the call and it was when you heard him tell her that he loved her that you knew, you were in love with him. It felt like a painful jab to the chest—for months, you’ve been lying to yourself.
I don’t love him, I just love who I am when I’m with him. I love how he takes such good care of me and how he fucks me so well.
You’d repeat those words to yourself every single time that you’d get to see him. With every kiss he’d steal from the corner of your mouth or every smile and look of adoration he’d send your way, you began to feel something deep in your chest. Whenever he’d drop you home, you always felt so empty—like a piece of you went with him back to his place.
Mark Tuan owned your heart; there was no doubt about it. You’ve been with quite a few guys in the last three years of college but none of them could ever make you feel as over the moon or as elated the way Mark so easily did. He made you so happy; your heart rate would increase rapidly just by the mere sight of him. His laughter—his high pitched, contagious laugh always seemed to send fire through your veins. For months, you tried to accept the fact that all you would ever be to Mark was a place to put his cock while he was away from his actual significant other.
Maybe, he was only kind, affectionate and generous towards you because it was the only way to get you to stay by his side. If it were anyone else in your shoes, they probably would have given up on him once it was revealed that he was already in a relationship.
How did he not feel even the smallest ounce of guilt rearranging your guts; pressing you up against his balcony and fucking you in to the next week knowing that his girlfriend was waiting patiently for him to graduate so they could finally be together? And how could he not feel remorse considering the fact that he brought you in to this mess? He was selfish; that you felt wholeheartedly was true. If he cared about you or Aubrey, he would have either broken up with her as soon as the two of you found yourselves falling in to bed together the first time, or he would have never even cheated on her in the first place. How could he continue this facade? How was he fine with playing not just his girlfriend, but you too? He probably didn’t think you held any romantic feelings for him and God—if only that was the truth.
If you had the choice, you would go back to the beginning of your arrangement and made it your mission to have never fell in love with him. You would have made yourself immune to his endless flirting, you wouldn’t let yourself kiss him other than when you would have sex, you would have made sure that what went on with you and him was strictly physical. No feelings—No emotions—nothing. It was only natural for you to have felt something for him. If you knew back then what you currently know now, you would have never allowed him in to your life—in to your heart.
You would have never let him tear down the walls you’ve built so high in attempts to keep people out. You would have never allowed him to take up your entire mind—you wouldn’t have given him your body if he wasn’t willing to take all of you. Who were you kidding? There was no regretting Mark Tuan. Even if you were given the chance to go back to the past, you wouldn’t change a thing. Mark Tuan was your person, whether you wanted to accept it or not. He was the rightful owner of your heart, even if you didn’t own his. You couldn’t really hear what she was saying over the phone, but Mark’s brows began to furrow; as if something bad happened.
Since he was distracted, you took this time to pull away from him—retracting his cock from your now dry folds. Tears were brimming at your eyelids and you would rather die than give him a reason to inflate his ego. He’d have a field day if he found out that you were in love with him; that was the last thing you needed—the last thing he deserved. You would always come second to Audrey. He might have currently been in bed with you; his limbs tangled with yours—running his hands through your hair, tracing the outline of your features feather lightly, kissing every corner of your face, but at the end of the day, Aubrey had the rightful title of his girlfriend. Not you. Nor would it ever be you, even if they did break up one day.
If Mark saw you as someone with more than just a casual fuck to him, then he would have solidified your relationship months ago. If he harbored any sort of feelings for you, he’d feel wrong telling another girl that he loved her. Did he though? Did he love her? If he genuinely loved her or at least cared for her—especially because they were in a relationship together, he would never have cheated on her.
When you love someone, you never want to put them in any kind of situation that would hurt them and you most definitely wouldn’t feel right giving yourself—your time, love, effort and energy to anyone else but that person. As soon as he saw you getting up from off the bed, he asked Aubrey to wait a minute and gave her the excuse that someone rung on his doorbell. You had to force yourself not to say or do anything that would get him in trouble with his girlfriend.
“What are you doing? I said I’d be hanging up with her soon I’m literally about to end the call—“
“Don’t bother—I’m no longer in the mood anymore so you go finish up with her while I finish myself off.”
You picked up your clothes from where they were thrown on the ground and headed over to the bathroom; locking the door before he could try and stop you or get you to change your mind. In the corner of your eye, you could see him attempt to follow you, but he must’ve stopped altogether once you shut the door.
A choked up sob fell from your lips and you tried so hard to prevent any tears from falling, but it was inevitable. Why did you let this go on for so long? Mark was breaking your heart more and more as the days went on and you were the pathetic fool who continued to allow him in doing so. You were wrapped around his finger and there was nothing you could do about it. As soon as you put on all your clothes, you rinsed your face free of any tears and took a deep breath before returning outside.
All you wanted to do was return back to your apartment. You needed some time to think out this entire arrangement. The idea of losing Mark—no longer having him in your life, no longer being able to kiss his pretty lips, to be held in his protective embrace, to hear him whisper sweet nothings while he passionately made love to you, it broke your heart. It was as if he had somewhat of a Stockholm syndrome hold on you. He was ruining you mentally; he was holding you captive and you weren’t able to leave him—nor did you willingly want to. At this point, you were fine with Mark taking advantage of your patience. All you wanted was him; in anyway you could have him.
Once you felt like you gave yourself enough time to breathe and recollect your thoughts, you hesitantly made your way back in to his room and you were secretly hoping he’d still be occupied with Aubrey so you didn’t have to worry about him stopping you and questioning what just happened. If this were to happen in the beginning of your affair, you wouldn’t have let it got to you and you were sure you’d continue from where the two of you left off from; but now that there were feelings involved—specifically your feelings, there was no way you could pretend that nothing was wrong. That—you were fine with being a side chick who would drop anything and everything just to be at his beck and call. You were sure you’d spill everything; knowing the kind of person you were, you would probably tell him how and when your feelings of lust turned in to love and how you respected yourself a lot more now to continue staying with someone who technically belonged to another woman.
He might not have seen her in a long while, but he continued to act like everything was fine between them. Not once has he ever told you exactly what she meant to him—she hardly ever came up in conversation. It’s as if he never wanted to bring her up and you understood that it was because Mark was well aware that as someone who was sleeping around with him, you probably wouldn’t want to hear about his girlfriend. To your dismay, he was no longer on the phone and he was sitting at the edge of the bed—still naked and waiting for you to come out.
Right as his gaze landed on you, he leaped up from off the bed and made a beeline toward you. He tried to reach out to you, but you shook your head—you didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You were exhausted; he continued to take, take, take from you and although he was very generous in bed, he didn’t give the same amount of devotion in a romantic aspect. He didn’t fulfill your heart’s desires like he did with your lustful ones.
“Where are you going baby—“
“Don’t. Don’t give me that baby shit Mark, you just got off the phone with your girlfriend for heaven’s sakes. I think it would be best for the both of us if I were to leave before I say or do something I will regret.”
“Wait—what are you even saying? What happened y/n? Why do you sound so upset? You knew exactly what you were signing up for as soon as we hooked up—“
You let out a scoff of disbelief. Was he being real right now? It was too late, you were going to let everything out tonight. If he ended up not reciprocating your feelings, then there was nothing you could do. These last six months opened your eyes to the reality that you were never going to mean as much to Mark the way he did to you. You could try anything; you could fuck him as much as both your time and energy permitted you to. You could do whatever it was he asked of you, but it would never be enough. You would never be enough.
There was something Aubrey had that you didn’t; you couldn’t quite put your finger on it—it couldn’t have been because they have a longer history. Maybe he felt obligated to continue staying with her. Although you knew Mark like the back of your hand—you knew practically every little thing about him, there had to be some information that he left you in the dark about. Maybe their parents were friends and he just wanted to please the both of them by staying with her or maybe he genuinely liked her, but he had his desires that needed to be fulfilled and he was going to use you until they could finally be together again.
“I didn’t know anything you asshole! You kept Aubrey a secret from me for an entire fucking month. I shouldn’t have told you I was okay with continuing whatever it is that’s going on between you and I. It’s not fucking fair Mark, to her or to me. We were fucking when your girlfriend called! Does it not bother you in the least way that you’re playing the both of us? Do you not sit back and think that what you’re doing is wrong? Yes, I’m sleeping around with a man in a relationship, but you’re the one allowing it! You’re just as at fault here, so don’t try to make it seem like you’re not doing anything wrong! Admit it, you get off on some kind of high knowing that you have the ability to manipulate two different women. One who you call your girlfriend and one who you call when you need to get your dick wet. I don’t know who you think you are Mark, but I’m tired of being your puppet. I’m tired of giving you the ability to break me—to do whatever you want with me. I let it go all these months; I know it was wrong and I feel like such a bitch for getting involved with you knowing you have a girlfriend. I made a vow to myself never to do such a thing but look Mark—I’m a fucking mistress! I can’t blame you completely because I’m still here, but I need you to know that I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. With this—with you. Have a nice life, I no longer want to be apart of it.”
You quickly grabbed your bag from his bedside table and stormed out of his room—if he were to come after you and attempt to sweet talk you in to staying; at his apartment and in his life, you would’ve gave in to him and that powerful speech you just poured your heart in to would have all been for nothing. As much as you wanted to rid him from your thoughts entirely and say that you felt as though a huge weight has been lifted from off your shoulders, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt when you realized he wasn’t chasing after you. But then again, this was what you wanted—your heart could no longer handle the fact that he didn’t care for you or love you the way you practically gave him your entire being.
You would have done anything for the older boy—you were well aware of that and so was he; but allowing him to play with your emotions all the while leading you on was something you refused to let continue. From the time you were a little girl, you were extremely insecure about every single little feature on your body; your bushy eyebrows, your chubby cheeks, your sharp nose that you believed was too big, your crooked teeth and short neck. You also didn’t like the fact that you were only 5”2—you felt like people didn’t take you seriously because you were so tiny. However, over the course of your arrangement with Mark, you didn’t know how you did it—but you fell in love with everything you believed you hated about yourself.
Unfortunately, you knew Mark had a lot to do with it. He praised your body on a daily basis, like it was his duty to tell you how breathtakingly beautiful you were and how your body was handcrafted by Leonardo DaVinci himself. During your sexual activities; whether it was when he’d find himself with his face buried in your cunt, or if he had you pressed up against the counter, he never failed to compliment you on how soft your skin was, how insane your curves were and how he truly believed you were God’s favorite with how amazing your body was.
Only then did it hit you—Mark only ever seemed to compliment you when his dick was deep inside of you or right after the two of you reached euphoria together. You had to accept it—you were just a fuck buddy, a play thing—someone to help him relieve stress and find pleasure through. When you reached your car, you sat in it and cried for a few moments; allowing everything to come out.
It was hysterical; less than an hour ago, you were crying out of frustration because he kept fucking you with his fingers but refused to fill you with his length until you begged him to do so. Now, your sobs were filling up your entire vehicle all because you couldn’t let your affair to continue anymore. Everything seemed to be getting out of hand. You put so much effort in to something so pathetic all for a boy who couldn’t give less of a shit about you—a stupid, egotistical, manipulative, selfish asshole. You wanted to wait until you were completely calm and free of any more tears before you began to drive back to your apartment.
Did all of that really just happen? What were you going to do now? There was no way you could just pretend like he was nothing to you. Six months of memories; kissing him in bathrooms that was hardly ever used at your university, singing along to Disney movies, helping each other with homework, attempting to cook meals that either of you saw on food network and ultimately failing, driving to another state on a whim just because you needed a break from life—every single beautiful moment spent with him was forever etched in to the back of your mind.
Mark Tuan was the rightful owner of your heart; he was the reason why it would flutter and rapidly beat as much as it would sink and tear apart by the smallest mistake or argument. You continuously repeated to yourself that this was what you needed—you needed to let him go sooner or later or else he would end up breaking you completely; until you were a shell of nothing.
Two weeks went by since that night and you could honestly say they were the worst two weeks of your entire life. You weren’t even exaggerating—you were miserable beyond belief. Mark hasn’t tried to get in contact with you at all since you stormed out of his apartment and with every swig you took of whatever alcohol beverage you drank in order to take your mind off of the man in question, you attempted to coerce yourself in believing that this is what you wanted.
This is what was best for you. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell though; sure, you told him that you were done with him and you no longer wanted to have anything to do with him, but he gave up so easily. It felt like a slap in the face by reality that your biggest worries were true—he had no legitimate feelings for you; just lust. He could get anyone he wanted to take your place; you were just another useless body. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find out that he told his friends about you and what the two of you have been doing for the last few months.
His group of friends were notorious for having a group chat that they would brag about all of their hookups. You were so tempted to reach out to him and the multiple amounts of alcohol you’d consume would only make you crave his presence a lot more. Some days were better than others and by better, you didn’t cry as much and you actually would get some sleep. Why did you allow this to happen?
Anyone who knew anything about friends with benefit relationship were well aware that it could never be just sex. Things always got messy; one person fell in love while the other didn’t reciprocate the same feelings. In this case, you were the poor unfortunate soul who got the short end of the stick—you fell in love knowing that your feelings would never be reciprocated. It was heartbreaking; the first time you ever loved someone—it just so happened to be a person that was never yours in the first place. Once you were to move on from Mark completely, you were afraid that you would never be able to love anyone else.
This entire arrangement ruined your outlook on love permanently. You had to force yourself not to try and reach out to him—there was a point where you even hid your phone because you were afraid you’d give in and call him. He obviously didn’t care—losing you wasn’t a loss to him at all. Not if you never meant anything to him in the first place. Your friends tried to reach out to you multiple times throughout your emotional episode; it wasn’t like you drop off the face of the earth without an explanation. But nobody knew about you and Mark—nor would anyone understand what you were doing with him.
You were still in your early twenties, but you weren’t too young to realize that having an affair was wrong. You’ve known that even when you were a little girl—if your friends or even your family were to find out the mess that you’ve gotten yourself in to, they’d be so disappointed. Every time your phone went off, you held on to a tiny string of hope that it would be Mark trying to get in contact with you. It was too much of you to hope that maybe, just maybe he came to the conclusion that he missed you, that he was nothing without you and that he accepted the thought of loving you. However, it was always your close friends trying to get you to go out with them.
As much as you felt like you should say yes to them and allow yourself to move on by joining in on activities to keep you preoccupied, you didn’t have the strength, energy or desire to do anything at all. At the three week point, you came to accept that Mark wasn’t coming back. He was done with you, and there was nothing you could do about it. When you returned back to school, your friends were on your case—pointing out the fact that you looked like literal death. Claiming that you’ve lost at least ten pounds since the last time they saw you and that your cheekbones were more prominent.
They also stated that you looked as though you haven’t slept in days—your eye bags were dark and your eyes were puffier than usual. Like you had done with everyone else in your life; you lied and gave them the excuse that you had some kind of bug and that your doctor told you that it would be best for you to stay bedridden. Thankfully, they bought it—you didn’t need the constant reminder of why you were acting like someone died.
“Hey, I know you don’t care about anyone from Jinyoung’s group of friends, but did you happen to see Mark’s girlfriend yet? She’s here for spring break. She’s so pretty; I don’t understand why she would want to come to a university on her vacation, but maybe she just wants to spend time with her boyfriend no matter what it is that they do. They’re so cute together.”
Everything your best friend was telling you about Mark and Aubrey felt like a punch to the gut. Every single word twisted your heart and you began to grow lightheaded. So that’s why he didn’t come after you that night; maybe she told him she was coming to visit him. He didn’t need you anymore—he’d have someone, his someone in particular to give him his fill. He might have been cheating on her, but you didn’t think he’d be the type to sleep with two different girls at the same time—then again, it would probably raise his confidence levels in such an obnoxious way.
If only your friend knew how much her words were taking over your mind—how much they were ruining you and slowly tearing you apart. You wanted to cry—you felt like screaming to get her to stop. She had no idea about your relationship with Mark, so it wasn’t as though she was trying to make you feel bad. Even if she did know, she wouldn’t do anything to hurt your feelings—although, she would have been upset to hear about your poor choices.
“I—uh—no. I’ve only been here for about ten minutes so—I wouldn’t know. Cool. I should get going. I’ve already missed out on so much—I’ll call you later.”
You wasted no time briskly heading to your first class. Honestly, you didn’t even want to go anymore. Coming to school was a mistake—what was another day of missing class? You’ve been doing your work online; there was really no reason to be there other than for attendance purposes. You didn’t feel like you learned anything anyway, so there was really no point at all. You mentally cursed yourself at your negative thoughts—this was all Mark’s fault. Before him, you genuinely enjoyed school.
Your education meant everything to you. Whenever you were assigned homework—you completed it before your next day of class. Some of your professors complimented your on your work ethic and your English professor even asked you to become their TA because you were always so on top of things. Now, you couldn’t wait for school to be over with and you didn’t even care whether or not you passed any of your classes this semester.
Nothing mattered to you anymore and it was so disheartening that you allowed a stupid asshole to have this effect on you. To flip your world upside down and make you hate everything that used to bring you so much joy and contentment. You were busy trying to avoid people in the hallway and you couldn’t care less about whether or not you ended up bumping in to someone. Today was just not your day and if people were smart, they’d stay far away from you.
Your phone began to ring, and when you saw that one of your other friends were trying to get in touch with you, you were debating on answering. Human interaction wasn’t something you wanted to put up with for the rest of your time on campus. Everything was all too much for you to take in. The idea of Mark—introducing Aubrey to everyone as his girlfriend, the risk of seeing them together—kissing, holding hands, hugging, acting sweet to one another, it was messing with your head.
Heard you’re back, if you’re free right now, did you want to get some coffee?
The word no was at the tip of your tongue—you were afraid that you’d give yourself away if you showed any sort of emotion that proved you weren’t sick at all. However, you loved coffee and you were sure it would be the only kind of positivity you’d be able to have at all today so you were going to take what you could get.
It didn’t take too long for you to reach the coffee shop—there were three spread throughout campus, so you made your way over to where your friend said to meet them. You put in your headphones and blasted your playlist of sad songs—most people would try to steer clear of melancholic music while they were going through such a difficult time but it actually brought you peace. Some weird, twisted kind of peace but nonetheless, it helped you cope with the pain that Mark’s sudden absence left on you. The smell of coffee was soon ridding you of your anxiety and you were quick to see your friend towards the back of the shop. She waved you down and you acknowledged her before getting in line to place your order.
“Next in line.”
You gave a soft smile to the barista and gave him your order—going with a large caramel macchiato with three shots of espresso, you were in need of caffeine in the hopes that it would give you enough energy to last through three classes. When you pulled to the side and began to scroll through Instagram, your friend sent you a playful text message about how she was glad that you went with the biggest size, you were definitely going to need it.
“I have a grande matcha latte and a venti iced americano with almond milk for Aubrey—“
Your heart felt as if it was about to combust out of your chest at the sound of her name. Sure, there could have been multiple Aubrey’s on your campus. It wasn’t an uncommon name—but you knew the americano was Mark’s go to beverage. He was lactose intolerant and the first time you went to get coffee together, he told you that americanos helped him stay awake. You didn’t want to look up—you were afraid of seeing her or worse—seeing him.
Life could be a bitch sometimes. Maybe this was your karma for fooling around with someone who was already taken. You couldn’t help it, you lifted your head up to see the girl who owned the heart of the man who owned yours and you ultimately regretted doing so. She was beautiful—there was no doubt about it. No matter how much you wanted to be bitter and say that she was ugly or that you couldn’t understand what Mark saw in her, you knew that was far from the truth. You’ve only seen a few pictures on her Instagram when you accidentally stumbled upon her account one day but her pictures didn’t do her justice at all. Her long brown hair was in big, bouncy waves.
She was wearing a red, summer dress with a pair of heels. You could feel yourself choking up at the sight of her and all her beauty and you began to mentally scold yourself for not putting any effort in to your outfit at all today. But what did it matter? At the end of the day, it was her who got to say that Mark was her person. She got to tell people with confidence that they were a couple while you had to hide behind the cafeteria or shopping malls in the fear of anyone recognizing the two of you.
She grabbed the two drinks and made her way to a table near where your friend was sitting. Out of all the places that she could have decided to meet you, it just had to be the same place that Mark’s girlfriend was currently at all the while waiting for him. Was it too late for you to come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t stay for too long? Surely she’d be able to understand right?
There was no way you could be able to withstand being in the same room with the man that ripped your heart from out of your chest and threw it on the ground right in front of you—stepping on it like a used cigarette. That’s all you were to him—a cigarette. You were bad for him—but he was addicted to you and he used you only when it was beneficial to him. Just like the way smoking addicts would turn to cigarettes for stress relief, Mark would come to you for a way to release any pent up frustration and just like when the cigarette burns out and the high is over, you’re thrown to the ground and discarded until he needed another hit.
“Y/n, I have your venti caramel macchiato.”
Your hands were shaking and all the wind was knocked out of you. After politely thanking the barista, you took in a deep breath as you sauntered to the direction of your friend. You began to plan out ways to escape this unfortunate situation you found yourself in. Fate must’ve had something against you; this wasn’t a coincidence that you’d be in the same exact place at the same exact time as the both of them. This was your payback—your punishment and you were just going to have to take it like a big girl.
“Hey y/n. I’m so happy to see you again, although, from what everyone who has seen you has told me so far, you really don’t look too good. Maybe you should have asked your doctor to give you a few more days off—“
“I’m fine, really. I can’t afford to miss out on any more school or else I won’t graduate on time. Don’t worry about me. Let’s talk about you, inform me on everything I missed.”
As she began to tell you about how her life was going and how much you missed out on so many fun outings, everything she was saying went through one ear and out the other. Thankfully, your back was facing where Aubrey was sitting. You were sure if you were able to see her, you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off of her. Your friend continued to explain the crisis she was experiencing with one of her AP classes and you felt bad for not giving a shit at all. You tried to muster any kind of response and you could tell your “oh really?” and your “that sucks” were completely insincere, but if she noticed anything out of the ordinary—she didn’t say anything.
You didn’t think anything of the chime of the front door, but something in your chest—probably the fact that you grew accustomed to the distinct sound of Mark’s footsteps made it known that he was now there and your suspicions were soon answered when he spoke up.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. My professor held us back for five minutes. You weren’t waiting too long were you?” She giggled softly at her apology and it had to be the green monster of jealous on your back that was growing annoyed at the sound.
“No. I just got our drinks. So how was class baby?”
The term of endearment made your skin crawl—baby. You used to call him that; but then again, it was only when you were fucking him. Only once did you ever call him baby other than when you were having your fun together and he never really reacted to it. He must’ve been used to hearing you say it during your many hookups that it was second nature to you. You couldn’t handle staying in the coffee shop for a minute longer—you were afraid that something inside of you would get you to walked over to their table and tell her everything.
Mark didn’t deserve to have a happy ending—not after all that he’s put you through. If you had to suffer, so did he. But you weren’t like that. You weren’t a terrible, heartless person no matter how much you wanted to be. You wanted to hurt him—break him—ruin him the way he so easily did to you. You wanted every single one of his thoughts to be filled with you and how he played you. Your mind was begging you to leave—the last thing you needed was to make a fool out of yourself and who knew? He could pretend that he had no idea what you were talking about and make you seem like the biggest idiot ever.
“Hey, I actually planned on talking to my physics professor about missing assignments so I think I’m going to head out. Sorry about that.” The younger girl shook her head before giving your hand a comforting squeeze.
“You’re fine! Don’t stay away from us any longer okay? We’re only young once, let’s make the most of what we still can.”
You mirrored her expression and nonverbally agreed before picking up your books and your bag. Right as you said your goodbyes, you abruptly turned around and collided with a body. Not just any body—the body you’ve grown so familiar with in the last half a year. The body that made you feel so safe, so comforted, so happy and so serene. The body you’ve missed more than anything—Mark.
“I’m so sorry I should have looked where I was going—y/n?”
Hearing him say your name again after almost an entire month of not seeing or hearing from him sent you through so many different emotions and you felt like you were on the verge of both throwing up and crying. It wasn’t a sensation you were used to nor did you ever want to get used to it. You just wanted to get the hell out of there. You didn’t even look up at him; your initial instinct would probably be to either punch him or to kiss him and both options would bring you so many problems.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me—“ you attempted to walk away from him; being this close in proximity to him was suffocating. Your chest felt heavy and you were growing nauseous.
“Y/n, I’m sorry—that night—I can explain—“
“There’s nothing for you to explain Mark. I’d watch myself if I were you. Your girlfriend is right over there. You’re not as quiet as you think you are, I don’t even know why you’re talking to me or what you feel the need to explain yourself. What we had is over. You and I are over, so there’s no need—“
“Please, we need to talk. I need to tell you something—“
Now would be a good time to just bring your fist up and force it against his cheek. Did he hear himself? He was gone—he stayed away for weeks. He made you feel like complete and utter shit. He didn’t fight for you or your relationship—he didn’t beg you to stay nor did he try to stop you at all. Seeing him right now, you noticed that you were more angry with him than you were missing him. Did he really think that you were going to take him back with open arms as though the last three weeks of hell that you suffered through never happened at all? Did he think you were that stupid and that desperate enough to go crawling back to him with the snap of a finger?
He knew that he had the power to get you to come running to him even if he didn’t try to stop you that night. If you were to tell him why you were so angry with the fact that she interrupted your time with him, he would have seen right through you. If Mark had any kind of common sense, he would be able to pick up on the fact that it had nothing to do about being interrupted during sex. You wanted to laugh sarcastically—his girlfriend was a mere five feet away, he was truly unbelievable.
“Your silence that night spoke volumes for you so I think it’s best if we pretend like what we had never happened at all. You better go return back to her or else she’ll know something is up. I meant what I said when I left you, I no longer want to be apart of your life if my place—my presence isn’t as much of a priority as yours is in mine. Now, before I end up walking over there and telling her exactly who you are and who I was to you, be smart and leave it as it is.”
You shoved passed him and walked out of the shop with so much weight off of your shoulders. Telling him off felt amazing; there was so much more you wish you could have said, but you already felt eyes on the two of you and you didn’t want to bring any more attention to the two of you. You were sure your friend must’ve saw the entire exchange go down and she would most likely have a lot of questions, but you didn’t care about anything at all—your mind was set on going back home.
Sleep sounded so good right now and as much as running away from your problems wasn’t ideal, you deserved some rest. You didn’t even attend one class and you were in more or less words exhausted to the tenth degree. The image of him begging for you to hear him out with just his eyes alone was now imprinted in the back of your mind. Mark was never a man of words—not with you. He preferred using actions and you liked it that way.
But now, those actions were being used against you, not for you. There was something inside of you; pleading for you to hear him out—you knew it was the part that still loved him wholeheartedly. You wanted to give up your pride—you were proud of yourself for standing your ground, but there was a hole in your heart that could only be filled by Mark himself. As you started walking towards your car, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and it didn’t take a genius to know who might have been texting you.
That was who he was; Mark was insufferable. He was the type who wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted and if he wanted to talk to you, he was going to do anything and everything in his power to get you to listen. You contemplated taking a glance at your phone for quite some time. It was tempting; what if he decided to just confess everything since you weren’t willing to let him talk to you in person? There was really no harm in looking at his messages; you just weren’t going to respond. If you even sent a simple “back off” you were allowing him to continue sticking around in your life. By not responding at all, you’re giving him an answer.
Getting over him completely was going to take some time, but you owed it to yourself to be released from the confines of Mark’s hold that he had on you. There were so many other men out there; men who didn’t come with baggage. Men who were both physically and theoretically available. Men who would love you—only you. Men you didn’t have to worry about their place in your life or your place in theirs. You bit your lip in anticipation; what was there left for him to say or do after you practically shunned him from your life? He might have believed he wasn’t going to give up this time without a fight; you probably did damage to his ego but your mind was set.
You were done with Mark Tuan, for good.
Mark: I love you and I’m sorry. 11:25 A.M.
'Cause you weren't mine to lose
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Return the Flames - Chapter 6
All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No possible loss of anything from an open flame.
A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.
It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.
Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.
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Fandom: A Hat in Time Rating: General Audience Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).
Another dinner, this one with a more pastel color scheme. For some reason. Dominic and Amos claimed a booth tucked away in the back, away from everyone, in hopes they could talk without being overheard.
Amos was absolutely exhausted. Wanting nothing more than to lay his head down and pass out. It was a bit ironic that for being dangerously hot for so long, he was now freezing. And it was painful. Like pins and needles sticking him in different areas. Probably feeling like this while his body attempted to recover from their crash. He really wished the flame would return. That he could just curl into the closest corner and escape this nightmare for just a little while.��
“Amos...we need a plan.”
Except Dominic kept pulling him back to the problem at hand. Which was needed. Amos just didn’t want to. “We need ta figure out how those peck necks knew about…”
The penguin sighed softly. “I think all we need to worry about for that is knowing that they know. And they’re hunting us down now because of this. Do you think they knew where we’re going?”
“If they knew about the Phoenix flame, I wouldn’t put it past them. They found us really fast after that first dinner.”
“So, our original, direct path is no longer an option. We’ll probably have to make a new, longer path to get to the mountains. Anything to keep them away from us. We’ll just need to make sure you’re alright to stay away for that much longer. Ah, there’s also the issue of provisions and transportations. Thank goodness our wallets survived with us. I would say bus for traveling. But that would take way too long and we’d be trapped if they find us again. So, a rental car would be our best bet. We’ll also need to contact the studio. Let them know we’re going to be gone for a lot longer than originally expected…”
Amos just stared as Dominic kept pulling up the major points they had to worry about. As the list kept growing, the owl felt his resolve break down further. As if he was suddenly realizing how much danger they were in. At the moment they weren’t being chased, they were patched up and food was on the way. Now, with the adrenaline not pumping as much as it was before, Amos’ mind was free to panic over their current situation.
Someone was hunting him down. Because of what he was. And he put Dominic directly in the line of danger because of this. All because of him. He alerted the authorities because he wasn’t able to control himself. Because he was a danger to everyone he gets near.
“Amos?”
The owl jumped, attention going from Dominic’s worried face down to his clenched hands lying on the table. “What.”
“You’re shaking.”
Was he?
“Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong- are ya really gonna ask me that after our plunge off the side of a cliff?”
“I don’t think we were up that high.”
“We almost died Dominic! Because I’ve been marked as enemy-number-one of some peck necks. With you as the unwilling accomplice.”
“Unwilling?”
“Ya didn’t know it would lead ta this when you agreed ta take me. Ya shouldn’t be involved.”
“You didn’t know this would happen either. I became involved when I plowed those crows over with my car. We’re in this together.”
“But ya shouldn’t be! I should have found a way around this that didn’t involve anyone else. This is my problem. I should be fixin’ this on my own.”
Just with everything else in his life. It was how he’s always operated. He learned how to fight, dealt with his ex leaving, his mother passing away, maintained his train, paid for his film equipment, raised Amelia, put her through college, started saving up for the grandchildren to get them through college as well.
Everything. Everything he did alone.
So why did he suddenly feel as if he needed help with this? He should have been able to figure out a solution on his own.
Amos stilled when Dominic reached over and gently grabbed the owl’s balled up hands. So stunned, he allowed the penguin’s hands to properly slip into his.
“I’m happy I’m here to help you.”
“How...can ya possibly say that?”
“Because I would be tearing my hair out with worry if I wasn’t with you. Over what could have been happening to you.”
“People are tryin’ ta kill us.”
“Then I’m even further relieved to be here and helping.”
Amos wasn’t sure what to say to that. Attention returning to their clasped hands, the owl felt his heart starting to pick up its pace. The familiar warmth returning to become a comforting presence. Dominic didn’t seem to be letting go soon, did Amos want him to? He realized he didn’t. Dominic’s feathers were smooth to the touch, like silk. And seemed to be a cooler temperature than Amos’ unnatural heat.
“Um, sirs? Your meals?”
Amos quickly pulled away as the server made their presence known. His feather fluffed up in embarrassment while Dominic gave an easy smile. “Thank you, Darling.”
“O-Oh, of course. No problem.” The server was now flustered. Giving their own smile back as they placed the plates down, departing shortly after.
“Should we make our new plan.” Amos grumbled as they were left alone again.
“Right, well, transportation first. We need to rent a car.”
“You mentioned something about a bus?”
“Yes, but I don’t think that would be best. We need to control our speed and our direction at will. A bus leaves too many variables that we can’t control. Which worries me. So, I think the car is, again, our best option.”
“Alright… You also made mention of changin’ our route?”
“To try and throw them off. It took them two days to find us. And that was when they had a guess as to how far we were into our journey. That tells me they’re aware of where we’re going. If we change our path, hopefully we can throw them off and sneak by them when we finally reach the mountains.”
“If we can sneak in.”
“We’ll figure it out. If we’re moving our route, we need to inform everyone that we’re going to be gone longer than expected.”
“We also need provisions. We kind of...lost all our stuff.”
“We have enough paper money to pay for what we need at the moment. Lucky us.” Dominic laughed softly.
“Yeah...lucky…”
“Is everything alright gentlemen?” The server returned, their attention on the untouched plates. Amos didn’t verbally respond, instead picking up his fork and digging in.
“Sorry, we’ve just been so engrossed in our conversation. Would you actually be able to help us out with something Darling?”
“Oh, sure!” Amos rolled his eyes at how eager the server sounded.
“We’re in need of a rental car and a possible clothing store.”
“There are more, larger stores and a rental place further into town. You should be able to get what you need there.”
“Thank you, you’ve been extremely helpful.”
Amos grumbled as he put his full focus on the food in front of him. Attempting to block out the sickening ‘flirting’ before him. It made his stomach roll uncomfortably.
He couldn’t tell if it was because he hated seeing such a blatant display in public. Of it he was upset because Dominic wasn’t looking at him anymore.
____________________________
“How much longer are you going to be gone?”
Amos really didn’t like how uneasy Amelia sounded. “Just a few extra days, nothin’ more.”
“Are you sure that’s a smart idea? Do you...will you have enough time?”
“I’ll be fine, don’t you worry. This was Dominic’s idea actually. Says I need ta ‘relax’ or somethin’ crazy like that.”
“Well, if it’s coming from Grooves, it sounds reasonable.”
“Watch yerself young lady.”
Amelia laughed softly. “Please just take it easy dad.”
“I will. I am. How’s it goin’ on your end?”
“Oh, good…”
“...Did...Did ya have another episode?”
“Yeah. But it wasn’t that bad. I’m fine, really. Just tired.”
Amos gripped the phone receiver a little harder. “Are ya goin’ ta see Dr. Fula?”
“Dad-”
“If ya had an episode, she needs ta be aware.”
“And she was, we called her.”
“Does she want ta see ya?”
“No, in fact, she said I was improving!”
“How? Yer still havin’ them!”
“But this was not as serve as my previous ones. And I recovered faster, and on my own.”
“But ya still had one.”
“Dad, you need to unclench your jaw and release whatever's in your other hand.”
With a huff with some smoke unfurling from his mouth, Amos pulled his hand away from the side of the phone booth. Wincing from the newly created dent in the metal. “Amelia…”
“No, listen to me. I am fine. I’m home, safe and happy with the kids. Grace is staying with me. And a legion of medical professionals are on speed dial. Now I need you to just focus on getting yourself better, okay?”
“...Okay.”
“I know you’ll hate me for saying this, but listen to Grooves. He’s there to help you.”
“But-”
“Swallow your pride and let him help. Please.”
“...Alright.”
“Get better and I’ll see you soon dad. The kids miss you! Can’t wait to see pawpaw again.”
“Tell them I miss them too.”
“Be safe dad. I love you.”
“Love ya too, Amelia.” Amos hung up, letting out a sigh as he leaned against the pay phone. He looked over to Dominic, who was using the furthest phone in the line.
The penguin was calling the secretary to let him know they were going to be gone longer. Which Dominic was really leaning into the fact the message needed to be pasted along to all the workers. How they both would be coming back.
Bu̱t͙ tha̦ṱ’̨s͙ no̱t tr̥ue͙,̝ i͜s̙ it̼?͕ Yo̳uͅ’̨re n̺ot ex̖p̱e̻cting̖ t͉o c̝ome̖ back͍ fṛo̭m t̻h̘i̬s̟.
Amos swallowed weakly. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he moved away from the phones and turned towards the street.
A̟lwa̻ys̨ t̺h͔e̞ sa̞m̤e̠ fo͈r͉ y̦ou. Eͅx̱p̼e̞ct̝ th̺e͓ worͅsṱ. Be͜c̘ause th̤aṱ’̮s͚ a͍ḽl͎ t͢ha̝t͢ is to b̢e̖ e̦xp̗ect͔ed of̹ y̳ou. Th͟e͇ a̗bs͜olu̱te̹ w͓o͢r̖st̝.
Sitting on the curb, Amos crossed his arms over his knees, chin resting on top of them. His ears were pressed against the top of his head, remaining focused on the pavement of the road.
J͈us̬t a̯d̻mi̡t̤ it̯:̺ you’r̢e d̩yiͅn̢g. Yo̯u’ve k͈nown t͇his fo͜r̗ a w̤h̨i͉ḷe. Y̙et̳ yo̟u̼ ke̥ep̙ g̗i͙vi̯n͇g th̰i͕s se̘ns͇e̘ o̖f͟ hop͖e͇ to yo͈u̱r daug͙h̳ter th͜a͜t̡ y̢ou’ll͖ c̦o͜m͟e̩ b̖a̢ck.̟ How͢ seͅl͔fis̩h of̢ ỵo̮ṷ. N̗ot̫ eve̝n g͎i̞vi̲n͍g͔ ḫe͚r͔ a cha̢nc̘e to̭ h̩a̩ve͢ p̩ro̭p͍e͙r c͚l͕os̝ur̠e̥.
“Amos.” Dominic’s voice broke through, a hand resting gently on the owl’s shoulder.
“Finally pass the message?”
The penguin nodded as he sat down. “I’m hoping it’s actually passes along.”
“We really need ta replace him.”
“We do…”
“...But we aren’t.”
“Probably not.”
Amos huffed, a smile being pulled onto his face. “As long as we have that cleared up.”
“Mmm… Were you able to talk to Amelia?”
“Aye…”
“Does...Does she know what this could lead to?”
“No. She doesn’t need to know.”
“Amos-”
“She has enough on her plate ta deal with. This is my problem.”
“But if your-”
“We need to go. If we want ta keep ahead o’ those government peck necks, we’ll need that car” Amos stood, heading towards where their server had pointed them. Dominic gave a look of disapproval to the retreating back. But couldn’t really disagree as he knew time was not on their side.
So, even though the penguin wanted to reprimand Amos for leaving his daughter in the dark, Dominic remained quiet. One problem at a time. And they had agents to avoid.
#A Hat In Time#discotrain#the conductor#dj grooves#s-creations#fanfiction#ahit conductor#ahit dj grooves#Multi-Chapter
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Can you write a Changbin x Reader smut where he gets pissed at you for flirting with the other members of 3racha earlier that day? You don't have to! I just love your work!
A/N: here’s something i put together with some time for you anon!! thank you for reading my works <333
[ill add the continue reading thing later LOL]
Changbin was busy, he couldn’t help the constant demands of his job as he pursued his dream and you had no complaints about it. Some nights were admittingly lonely, but when you were met with his comforting chest sometime in the middle of the night (the nights he actually bothered to come home from the studio) it was nice.
Today was different. It had been a week since he came home and you decided it was time to visit him at the studio. He was working on his new song for his group, a song that he boasted was about you but you couldn’t get yourself to believe it.
A few knocks on the door were left ignored before you could let yourself in. You were quickly greeted by Chan and Jisung, joining them on the couch.
“Your boyfriend has been hella busy” Chan chuckled, gesturing at your boyfriend who was inside the recording room.
“I can tell, he hasn’t came home in a week and it’s honestly worrying me” You replied, taking a french fry from the table and eating it.
Jisung leaned down on the couch, a smirk on his face as he bit into his burger. “Don’t worry y/n, it’s just the new song. He’s having a bit of trouble with it”
“All good, I’ll just wait until he’s finished” You grabbed a blanket in your backpack and covered yourself in it before Chan could grab one side, followed by Jisung.
“Ooh! You brought a blanket, good I forgot a jacket” Chan exclaimed, the three of you huddling together as you tried to keep warm. The next few minutes turned into hours, the three of you finding company in each other’s presence.
Jisung’s phone was propped up against a coke can, netflix playing as you three laughed at the rom-com. You leaned your head on Chan’s shoulder as Jisung laid on yours, a comfortable position before your eyes could meet Changbin’s.
It was something about his eyes. Sometimes his glare had a hint of softness but other times it looked rather frightening. You knew this one was the second option as you sat up quickly, forcing Chan and Jisung to move as well.
“You okay y/n?” Chan asked.
You watched Changbin as he bit his bottom lip. You were fucking screwed. “Y-yeah I’m fine” You coughed out as Changbin’s focus went back to his music.
Letting out a sigh of relief, you went back to the movie. Once it was done, the guys decided to go.
“You staying y/n? Changin might be late” Jisung asked, watching as Changbin turned in his chair.
“She’s staying, you guys can go” Changbin said, his finger pointing at the door before the two guys could leave.
“Bye y/n! See you later” The boys closed the door behind them as you got up in your seat, wrapping your hands around Changbin’s neck as your chin rested on his head.
“Changbin, I missed you” you whined, grabbing his arms and moving it around playfully to get his attention
“Does that give you a reason to flirt with the other guys? I’m out for a week and you go fucking with them?” He spat out, moving your hands to the side as he focused back on his screen.
“What, no! Changbin..” You said, spinning his chair around so he was facing you, “I’m only yours…”
“Right.” He replied annoyingly, his arms crossed as he rolled his eyes at your figure.
You smirked to yourself, thanking the gods above for your choice of attire. “Let me emphasize.” you continued, pulling up your short skirt for him to see the pretty lace black lingerie underneath, “I’m only daddy’s”
The second you saw his lips form a smirk, you knew it was over for you. The sight of his arm flexing as his hands tugged on your skirt, completely removing the material, was enough to make you gasp.
“Changbin!” You smiled with a pretend-shock face. Loving how he acted when he got pissed off like this, you wrapped your hands around his head to place a kiss on his forehead.
In seconds Changbin got a call, putting the cell to his ear with a few hums of agreement before he could show you a text message on his phone that made you cover yourself.
Jisung: yo changbin i left something at the studio, coming by now to pick it up!
“No princess…” He purred, his hand going under your t-shirt to pull it over your head, “I’m not playing soft tonight. You hung out with Chan and Jisung all day, but I’m going to show them just what a dirty slut you are with me at night..”
“Changbin…” you whined, his name leaving your lips in a much different tone than before. Hands on his chest, you found yourself grabbing the fabric as he zipped down his jeans.
“Changbin, come on they can be here any minute!!” Leaning down, you went to grab your skirt but he quickly slapped your hand away.
“You’re not putting on that skirt. Not now, not ever.” He growled.
Left breathless at his words, you bit your lip when he dropped you down on his member. The stretch was nothing but pain with pleasure, his nails digging onto your waist for any sort of grip as he groaned at how well you took him.
“Fucking slut, bounce on me” He mumbled. You moaned at his request, your hands on his shoulders as you started to lift yourself up before your ass could meet his thighs again.
The atmosphere was nothing but sensual as he threw his head back, your pace growing quicker as you started to get used to the stretch.
“Changbin, f-fucking” When your movements started to slow down, Changbin sensed that you were tired as he started to thrust up your entrance making you moan even louder.
“Who’s making you feel this good, huh? Chan?? Jisung??? Tell me!” Changbin groaned as his hands sunk you down on his member as he thrusted up.
You two were closer than ever when Changbin felt that all too familiar clench around his cock before pulling out.
“Changbin!” You screamed, your folds clenching around nothing as you begged for your orgasm.
“Only good girls get to cum…” He whispered seductively, his hand going to palm himself as he reached his own high.
You, meanwhile, were trying to get off on his thigh but he didn’t let you. Picking you up from your spot, he asked you again before teasing you with his cum-coated tip.
“Who is making you feel this good princess?” He murmured into your ear, making the hairs near it stick up as you whispered.
“It’s you changbin, you”
Once his name left your lips, he shoved his dick up your entrance again. You could’ve sworn you had never screamed so loud in your life, at this point the whole building would’ve heard you.
“Louder!” He ordered as you clenched around him again, your teeth digging into Changbin's neck as you screamed his name again.
You bit hard onto his skin as you cummed over him, making him smirk as he saw you try to regain your breath.
“I’m so fucking lucky to have you baby” Changbin said, pressing a kiss on your chest.
You simply laughed in response as you regained your breath, pulling him close so your foreheads were touching. “Even a fool would know this~”
A call on Changbin’s phone made you both jump in place, his hand going to pick up the call as you two hear Jisung and Chan scream from the door.
“And we’re fools!! We get it! Now please give me my wallet back!”
Changbin laughed as he placed you on the chair he was once sitting on, grabbing Jisung’s wallet and walking to the door.
Turning around, he watched as you stared at his blank music sheets, repetition of your previous words flowing through his mind with a melodic tone.
Hmph. Even a fool would know~
#skzsmutnet#ive been getting sm inspo from mixtape on track#pls dont judge djdjjf i learned it on the piano n everything 🥺💕👈#literally still on reply JSJSS#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids suggestive#skz suggestive#changbin smut#seo changbin smut#changbin x reader#seo changbin x reader
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What if Billy did l leave to Cali and moved in with his old friend, the guy who was kind of his boyfriend before Neil dragged him to Hawkins. After couple of years of him living there, they would go out to a bar with Billy’s old friends and him and the guy would kinda have this fwb thing going on. But then, Billy sees Steve. The guy he had a crush on before he decided he wasn’t good enough for him and left after a night where he had finally fucked Steve senseless —
Pt. 2. Billy would be shocked to see him and before he realizes, Steve’s already coming towards their table. He has came with one of Billy’s friends, Steve being that guys date. There would be some confusion and jealousy from both of them, but they would still end up fucking after the night. (lmao i’m sorry that this is long)
-
This is from forever ago, I’m sorry it took me a thousand years.
It doesn’t actually have smut, bc where I went with it, it just didn’t feel like it fit, I’m sorry about that.
-
“Billy, we haven’t gone out in like, a month.” Billy rolled his eyes.
“We went out last weekend, you little baby.” He pushed at Danny’s face. “Git outta here you monster, and maybe I’ll consider meeting you there.”
“Kyle is bringing that guy he’s been dating.”
“And?”
“I was talking to Andie, and she said he’s totally not Kyle’s type. Apparently he’s like, super femme.” Kyle was known for going for absolute macho douchebags. “So we’ll get to meet him, and totally make fun of Kyle for whatever he’s tryna do, changin’ everything up like this.”
Billy threw his head back, groaning at the ceiling.
“Fucking fine. But if he’s an asshole, like Kyle’s guys always fucking are, I’m leaving.”
-
They met the rest of the gang at the bar, pushing through the small crowd to reach the large table they had claimed. Billy greeted his friends, elbowing Kyle a few times and asking where his new honey is.
“He’s getting us drinks, lay off.” Kyle shoved Billy away, made him bark a laugh. he turned around, was going to head for the bar, but stopped in his fucking tracks.
Steve fucking Harrington was making his way towards him, a drink in each hand.
He hadn’t seen Steve since the night he left Hawkins four years ago.
They had been moving towards something for months, had finally fell into one another, having a night of the most tender sex Billy has ever had in his entire fucking life. Steve had looked at him with those big perfect eyes, and had told Billy he loved him.
Billy left when Steve fell asleep, packed up his car and didn’t stop driving until he reached the Pacific.
Steve spotted him, stopping in his tracks, glaring at Billy. He stomped forward, pushing a drink into Kyle’s hand.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Everyone turned to look at Steve when he spat that at Billy.
“Meeting my friends. Why are you here, Harrington?” Steve gestured lamely at Kyle.
“You two know each other?” Kyle looked at Billy with wide eyes.
“Yeah. Remember when I lived in that shitty hick town for two years? Steve is from there.” Steve looked livid. “Good for you for getting out, Pretty Boy.”
“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that, right, Hargrove?” Everyone was watching with wide eyes as the two went back and forth, heads turning like they were watching a tennis match.
“What the fuck did I do?” Steve’s eyes seemed to crackle.
“You know what the fuck you did. You couldn’t’ve even bothered to say goodbye? Had to run away like that?”
“Wait, did you two fuck?” They both ignored Danny.
“I had to get out, Harrington. You don’t know shit about me.” Steve’s eyes narrowed. Billy admired the pretty eyeshadow on them.
“Max told me everything. I knew it all. You’re just a fucking coward that couldn’t take the fact you felt the same way.” Everybody had lost the conversation, couldn’t derive enough from the fight to figure out exactly what had happened between these two.
“I was saving you from yourself, Pretty Boy. I was always gonna leave. Better right away than let you get your hopes up.” Steve stamped his foot.
“My fucking hero.” He picked up one of the drinks he had brought, chugging it down before slamming the glass back onto the table, grabbing Kyle’s hand. “We’re dancing.” He turned to Billy. “Don’t fucking talk to me tonight.”
They disappeared back into the crowd. Billy made his way to the bar, downing two shots right after the other.
“You used to date him, or something?” Billy shook his head, not looking at Danny.
“Nah. I fucked him once and he told me he loved me. I packed up and left the next day.”
“Wait, you only fucked once and he said that?” Billy slammed another shot.
“We were friends, I guess. He had a thing for me, and I just wanted some ass.” That was a complete lie, but Danny didn’t need to know the sweet warmth that had settled in Billy’s gut when Steve said he loved him, how badly he wanted to say it back, how he had gotten scared and made the stupidest decision he had ever made.
“And then you left without saying goodbye?” Billy nodded. “That’s kinda fucked up.” Billy just stared at him.
“What?”
“You knew the guy was into you, and you just dicked him and ditched him without saying goodbye. That’s fucked, Billy.”
“I don’t need this from you. You do not understand what that fucking town was like for me.”
“No, I understand perfectly. You’re a bigger asshole than I thought.” Danny shook his head. Heading back to the table. Billy downed two more shots.
-
His head was fuzzy as he stumbled into the alleyway for some fresh air.
He tried a few times to light a cigarette when he heard a quiet sniffle.
He turned to see Steve leaning against a wall further down the alley.
“You okay?” Steve stiffened.
“What’s it matter to you?” Billy shrugged.
“If Kyle tried anything-”
“Oh, shut up. He dumped me because of you.” Billy took a few unbalanced steps towards him.
“‘Do you mean?”
“He asked about what happened, and I told him. How you led me on for over a year, how you would let me open up to you, let me cry and feel insecure and would tell me that I was enough the way I am, how you fucked me and ran away the next day, didn’t even bother to call or even write for four years.” Steve had silvery tears running down his cheeks now, illuminated by the streetlights. “How I waited for you, like a fucking idiot before letting myself move on.” He wiped his eyes. “God, I told myself I was done crying over you.”
“Steve, I didn’t mean to-”
“Doesn’t matter. You still did it.” Billy’s heart sank. Steve looked fucking broken in front of him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run like I did. Especially, especially because you’re right. I was scared of how much I felt for you. Scared that if I let myself love you, I would’ve stayed in Hawkins forever. Would’ve never gotten out from under my dad’s thumb.”
“Bill,” Billy’s heart fluttered at the way Steve’s voice sounded when he said his name like that, was immediately transported to late nights sitting in his car overlooking the quarry. “I would’ve left with you. I didn’t like it there, either. I would’ve left with you.”
“I was an idiot. Still am sometimes. But I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess. You deserve a lot better than me.” Steve took a shaky breath.
“Y’know, it still sucks. After all these years of telling myself I hate you for what you did, standing here with you, I still-I mean I could never hate you.”
“You wanna come back to my place? Nothing implied, just to talk. Catch up.” Steve chewed on his bottom lip. His lipstick was a pretty deep red.
“Sure. We can, we can catch up.”
Billy led him the few blocks back to his two-bedroom he shares with Danny. He grabbed them each a beer while Steve studied the pictures tacked to the walls.
“Are you two together?” He pointed tot the picture, one of many, of Billy and Danny at the beach, arms around one another.
“Nah. We live together, and we fuck sometimes, but neither of us would be good in a relationship together.” Steve just nodded. “You date much?”
“Not back in Hawkins. I spent about a year there after you left. Robin graduated and moved out here, and I moved into a shitty apartment in Hawkins until she finished her first year and moved out of the dorms. I live with her now. She’s helped me embrace myself more.”
Billy remembers a night when he and Steve got drunk in Steve’s bedroom, how he’d found some dresses in Steve’s closet, the way he’d broken down and cried and said that he just liked to feel pretty, that sometimes he didn’t even feel like a boy.
Billy had held him all night. Bought him some makeup from the drugstore the next day. Probably shitty stuff, but Steve had looked at it like it was made of gold.
“I’m happy for you. I’m glad you get to be yourself here.” Steve sat down next to him on the ratty couch, leaving a solid two feet of space between them.
“You seem a lot happier out here. Like, you just seem lighter.”
“I am so much happier here.” Steve’s smile was tight, a little bitter. “I just mean, without my dad here, I’ve been going to therapy, and I have this support group for queer abuse survivors, and I’m just not angry all the fucking time like I used to be.”
“I’m proud of you.”
Billy had forgotten.
He’d forgotten that Steve had this lovely way of saying something simple and making it the best thing that’s Billy’s ever heard. Making billy realize he’d never heard that simple thing said to him before.
He didn’t even think.
Just leaned across the space and kissed Steve.
he pushed him away.
“Billy, I won’t let you do this again. It took me years to get over what you did. You can’t just kiss me and think it’s all okay.”
“I’m sorry, Steve.” Steve shook his head, went to get up off the couch. Billy grabbed his wrist. “You know, I wanted to say it back that night.”
“Don’t say that.” Steve’s voice was small.
“I did. I felt that same. But I got fucking scared. And I left and I shouldn’t have.”
“Yes, you should have. We just established that you’re doing better here!”
“But I could’ve held out a little longer, long enough that you could’ve come with me.” Steve finally turned to look at him.
“Billy, you did what you had to do. I forgave you a long time ago. When I first saw you tonight I was just, it made me remember the hurt.”
“I know I hurt you. And I’m so fucking sorry.” Steve blinked at him.
“You get one chance. One more chance. Do it for real. Take me out on a date. I want the whole nine. Pick me up, tell me I’m pretty, take me somewhere inexpensive but nice, hold my hand, kiss me on my doorstep, all of it.” Billy just nodded.
“I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. Whatever you want.”
Steve smiled at him, turning over his hand to hold Billy’s.
“Then pick me up tomorrow at six. Don’t be late.”
#yikes writes#steve harrington#billy hargrove#steve harrington x billy hargrove#billy hargrove x steve harrington#harringrove#harringrove fic#harringrove ficlet#harringrove drabble#i feel like im gonna throw up im just tryna write until all my problems go away honestly
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Bombshell
!! revamped !!
Solari Says: I am slowly picking at remastering the old prompts from my previous blog, since the remainder of my requests are mostly smut and that just isn’t the way to go right now. OC is my own.
Imagine: OC telling Happy she’s pregnant.
Happy Lowman x OC
WARNINGS: Language
translations below
gif isn’t mine, credited below!
SoA tag list: @thebookishfeminist | @sazafraz | @crimsonheart01 | @kind-wolf @tsumethedrifter | @chibsytelford | @supervalcsi (To be added to the tag list, please message me, or comment below!)
REQUESTS CLOSED
Yvonne could feel her stomach turning as she remained seated in the bathroom of Diosa Norte, refraining from doing anything that could push her further into the panic that was beginning to boil up in the pit of her stomach. The last few weeks had remained chaotic for SAMCRO, and they were showing no signs of slowing down.
So learning this newfound information, presented to her by the double lines painted on the small window of the pregnancy test, was something that sent her mind into spirals.
It wasn’t that she was afraid of bringing up a child in this sort of situation. It was more of the uncertainty she felt on her own accord. She wasn’t sure if she would be a viable mother, or if Happy had even taken any interest in having a kid.
She lets out a shaky breath, beginning the process of properly cleaning up after herself. Once she does, she spins the toilet paper roll around the test carefully so she could throw it away. Standing and flushing the toilet, she tosses the pregnancy test in the trash sitting in the corner of the room before washing her hands.
She looked at herself in the mirror while doing so, checking her features to make sure she didn’t look disheveled before heading back out to her job. She exhales once more, so her breathing could even out. She feels her erratic heart rate begin to slow, taking that as the sign to turn off the water and dry her hands off.
She looks down at herself, fixing the red form-fitting dress that she donned. She gives herself a quick once over once the immediate signs of negativity were smoothed out, nodding to herself before opening the restroom door and joining the rest of the girls out on the main floor.
She puts on her best grin, greeting a gentleman who had pushed inside of the building and handed him a drink menu so he wouldn’t have to traverse to the bar that was partially full. She doesn’t take notice to her uncle Nero, who had walked up to join her for a moment before he had to go finish more paperwork.
“¿Todo bien, mija?” he asked her, which causes her to startle and spin around quickly.
When she realized it was just him, she pressed a hand over her chest to ensure that her heart wouldn’t jump out. “Después de experimentar insuficiencia cardíaca.”
Nero smiles at that notion, holding up both of his hands. “Lo siento. But really. Is everything alright with you?”
Von dropped her hand once she felt her heart rate even. “That’s a debatable question, Nero. What’s up?”
“Cause you been ojos saltones since you came from your trip from the baño,” he told her, his tone simple. “You know you can talk to me about shit, right?”
Von purses her lips and averts her eyes for a split second, before connecting once more to Nero. “I... could run something by you really quick.”
Nero nods his head and curls his forearm up so his hand was in front of him. He waves his fingers to gesture Yvonne to follow him, and when she joined him at his side he slung an arm around her shoulders.
Immediately, Yvonne could feel the familial comfort creep through her system as they stepped through the crowded room and into the empty Diosa Norte kitchen. She felt a twinge of sadness when he dropped his arm, in much need of that sort of comfort at the moment. He spun himself around so he was looking at her, leaning back against a stable surface and crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’m pregnant,” she immediately spilled, now that she was out of earshot of anyone else who had been on staff.
Nero seemed to shake his head a bit in shock, blinking his eyes at her. “Wait, wait, wait. ¿Embarazada? That was definitely something I wasn’t expecting to hear out of you.”
Von let out a nervous chuckle, folding her arms over her chest as she felt herself grow a bit smaller the longer the word sat in the air between them. “Yeah... It wasn’t something I expected out of myself, really.”
“Does Happy know?” he questioned. “Or was that the trip you made in the bathroom?”
“That was the trip,” Yvonne stated, one of her arms coming up and touching the spade tattoo that sat at the side of her neck. “I have no fucking clue how to tell him, tío. I don’t even think he wanted to have a kid in the first place.”
“Have you had that conversation with him?” Nero inquired, hands still folded over his chest.
Von doesn’t entertain with a verbal answer, just a quick shake of her head.
“Then that’s something you two have to figure out, no? Talk it over, mija, Happy’s not nonsensical,” he says, giving her an assuring smile.
That sort of comment held a lot of merit to Yvonne. Considering her upbringing, and Nero’s talent of seeing people for who they really were, she held his opinion highly. So when he seemed so relaxed about something that seemed so grave to her, it caused her to calm just a bit. She nods her head, turning her head to the entrance of the hall that led to the kitchen when she heard the boys sounding off in the distance.
SAMCRO had stepped into the building. Happy had to be with them, considering she was on shift today.
She turns to Nero once more, offering him a nervous but kind smile. “Thanks, Uncle. I’ll let you know what happens, okay?”
Nero observes her expression once again, trying to ensure that she was okay without pressing too much further. He nods his head after a couple seconds of silence, pushing himself straight before moving out of the kitchen to go grab Happy.
She could hear Nero speak, telling Happy that she was sitting in the kitchen. No details, just the basics.
She had been hoping she would remain calm when Hap had turned the corner, but her heart had other plans. It practically leaped out of her chest when he turned the corner, giving her a half smile as he approached.
“Hey, babe,” he greeted simply, placing a gentle hand at her waist and connecting a kiss to her forehead.
She smiles a bit at the intimacy, chuckling. “You guys alright?”
“No one shot or blown up today. New record,” he stated simply, causing her to roll her eyes.
After the couple seconds of lighthearted joking, she licks her lips a bit to mentally prep herself for the conversation she was about to have with him. “Hey.. can we talk really quick?”
“Yeah,” he says, looking down at her. “Everythin’ okay?”
She nods her head, averting her eyes down after a couple seconds of holding his stare. “I... I’m fuckin’ pregnant, Happy.”
She could only grow more nervous as she read his eyes. His expression never moved physically, but he was sorting out his own head. She could read it easily. After all, she was one of the few who could really understand Happy, and that was one of the reasons he got together with her.
One second turned into four, the growing anxiety boiling up within her the longer he sat in silence. When he opened his mouth to speak, she could feel herself almost lurch forward to hear what he would say.
“So what are we going to do?” he asked simply, eyeing her with a serious expression. “We have to consider our options here, Von.”
Von nodded her head in response, immediately agreeing with what he had to say. He was right, they had to consider every possible option. Bringing up a child with a life such as theirs would be strange. Granted, the adjustment could be made. But they both had to express comfort toward that very idea.
“Do you want this kid in your life, Hap?” she asked seriously. “We never fucking talked about having a kid, Hap. So whatever you decide, we can talk about.”
“I don’t mind raisin’ a kid, Von. It’s up to you on what you want to do. You’re the one carryin’,” he says.
“I know I am, but... I need to make sure you agree with whatever fucking choice I make here, Happy. I can’t be the one to make the ultimate decision, not unless I know you have my back.”
He reaches his tattooed arms up, clasping her face in between the palms of his hands and made her look up at him. His eyes bore into hers, so she could understand the gravity of the words he spoke.
“Yvonne, I will support you in whatever fuckin’ choice you make. I am okay with raising a kid, if you decide to keep it. If you decide you want to, I will talk that choice with you. Whatever you do, I am here. As I’ve always been.”
The words seem to sink in slowly, and Yvonne closed her eyes as she relaxed into his palms. She reached her hand up, grazing her fingertips gently across the skin of his hand, before inhaling slowly to calm herself. She almost felt stupid for panicking as much as she had. Of course, Happy would support her in her choices. He always had, and she was sure he always would.
Especially for times such as these.
So she opens her eyes, connecting her eyes with his once more. His stern expression never changed, as he waited patiently for her answer. He was always so patient with her, and she was thankful for it.
“I think we should keep the baby, Happy. We can make the adjustments as needed. I know we can do this, because no matter what’s thrown at us, we always make it through in one piece,” she says, her tone much more confident than it had been before.
His expression finally moves, a small half-smile pulling at the corner of his mouth once she realizes she’s regained her confidence. “You’re damn right. It ain’t changin’ now.”
Translations:
Todo bien - Everything okay?
Después de experimentar insuficiencia cardíaca - after I experience heart failure
Lo siento - Sorry
ojos saltones - Big eyes, bug-eyed, doe-eyed
baño - bathroom
¿Embarazada? - Pregnant?
tío - uncle
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three steps behind
Starter Call: @pureasdriiven requested 1984 + Sorrow
Diana is missing.
He knows that she must be with Barbara Ann (or whatever remains of the woman), but whether she was taken or left of her own accord is a matter of question. If Steve were to guess, he’d say the latter given their fight the night before -- her insistence that she wouldn’t put him at risk, his refusal to be left behind.
It’s what he would have done, once upon a time.
In the end, though, he supposes it doesn’t matter. He’s only been back a short time, most of it occupied by this or that, enough going on that Steve allowed himself to believe that there was a reason he’s here, now, something he could do for Diana, to help, even if he isn’t physically capable of taking on her enemies. Today, if anything though, has proven that can’t possibly be true. Other than managing to track down a likely location, a jungle on the other side of the world, Steve has no way of getting there -- no contacts, no money, no hope. These were things easily worked around seventy years ago, but everything is too new for Steve, that much more complicated, that even a quick mind and quicker tongue fail to talk him into where he needs to be.
It’s … the longer things take, the more his momentum is slowed by things he can’t control, doesn’t understand, the more Steve is forced to face how much he doesn’t belong, how much he has truly lost. He feels it keenly in his throat of all places, the lump that gets bigger with each failure, making it hard to swallow, breathe, almost like he’s choking on his own air. He just doesn’t get it. Doesn’t see how, in a world where he has no one but her, Diana could possibly believe this is the better alternative.
Only of course he does. When it comes to someone you love, alive is always better than dead.
The complete hypocrisy of it all is yet another argument for later, though, something Steve tries to tell himself will happen even as the sun sets, a steady fall of rain forcing him to take cover. It’s not looking good and as lightning flashes, bringing with it the realization that he’s gonna be stuck for at least a little longer, Steve reluctantly meanders further into the enclosure, the hot air he’s blowing on cold hands turning into an empty laugh when he sees the rows of names. It’s the last remnants of hope, faith, slipping out of his grasp. It’s not a memorial from his War, but that doesn’t mean much because this is just a sign -- it’s all pointless, like he was always going to wind up here in the end, back with the dead.
#pureasdriiven#❝ we have to stay on mission — ( thread ) •#three steps behind#❝ i know times are changin' -- it's time we all reach out for something new — ( 1984 ) •#if this doesn't work just let me know and i can work on something else for you!
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What if (Construction worker/ high school sweetheart AU)
Summary: Life leads Y/N and Grayson in different directions after high school and they meet years later, rehashing the past. But life has its own plans for old lovers who just wanted one another.
Warnings: angst, fluff, death
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N - This was in my drafts for a long time, so if you guys like it and want more, let me know.
* *** * *** *
Two hearts, one valve, pumpin' the blood, we were the flood, we were the body. Two lives, one life, stickin' it out, lettin' you down and makin' it right.
Seasons, they will change, life will make you grow, dreams will make you cry because everything is temporary, everything will slide, our love will never die.
I know that birds fly in different directions, but I hope to see you again.
Sunsets, sunrises, livin' the dream, watchin' the leaves, changin' the seasons. Some nights I think of you, relivin' the past, wishing it'd last, wishing and dreaming.
Imagine Dragons - Birds
* *** * *** *
There are few big moments that make a person. Moments that bear the weight of a thousand suns that claim pieces of your soul. Some are love, a goodbye or a tragedy. For me, it was all three, all at the same time.
I left New Jersey six years ago soon after a tragedy claimed the lives of both my parents. I was only seventeen at the time, still a stupid teenager with a conviction everything my parents say is useless and only there as punishment. We were on our way home from my grandparents, arguing about a party I wanted to attend when a car swerved into our lane and dad had no chance of avoiding it.
I remember every detail of the crash, every single moment in slow motion, including the moment I realized I would be an orphan before darkness took me too.
After that, my life changed irrevocably. The only comfort I had was my high school sweetheart, Grayson Dolan and his big bear hugs I melted into.
We meet very few people who can shake up your world and still keep you steady. Grayson Dolan was all that and more. My heart always felt comfortable and safe in his hands. I believe we all encounter three different loves in our lives – your soulmate, the love of your life and eventually the one you settle for. Some people get to meet only one, some two, while others meet all three.
I don’t know which one of these is Grayson, after all, our story had an abrupt ending.
The funeral came and went. My grandparents moved to our house to take care of me, but I felt suffocated. Every inch of that house represented them and it haunted me. Survival guilt ruined me. The guilt was like gasoline in my guts. My insides died slowly in the toxicity, needing no more than a spark to set it ablaze. The fire burnt me out so badly there was nothing left but a shell, an outline of a person. Staying in New Jersey would have killed me, I just knew it.
The moment I turned eighteen, I set off to a new beginning.
I begged him to come with me. He begged me to stay. Things were said and that night I had to say goodbye to the only person that anchored me.
Alas, I said goodbye to Grayson Dolan too.
So here I am, six years later in the big city with my very own company. I never self-medicated with alcohol or drugs, rather worked harder to reach my goals. More work you put in, less time you have to think about what hurts you.
And this distance hurt me. Leaving Grayson destroyed me.
I never stopped thinking about what I left behind, about what could have been. But I learned to live with my choices. I had to.
Some people are meant to leave a mark in your life, but they don’t have to stay. No one ever does. People always leave, some willingly and some are forced to, but the end result is the same – you can only ever count on yourself.
"Your meeting at 2 is pushed back. Now you have the time to meet with the construction team that's gonna stand in for Fred." Lily, my assistant informed and I nod, sipping on my tea before rushing out the door. My company deals with architecture, building and interior designing and my usual construction crew bailed in the last minute, forcing me to look for another.
"You also have to meet the new architect. It took me two weeks to find him and we will not cancel!" Lily ordered, making me giggle. “I mean it. He comes highly recommended and his work so far matches your vision so perfectly.”
"I'll do it. Just point me in the right direction." Hands raised in mock surrender, I follow her index finger to the conference room and I nearly gasp at the beautiful man waiting inside.
With my head held high and back straight, I walk into the room, ready to meet this exquisite specimen.
"Sorry for the wait." I start with an apology, immediately offering a hand to shake which he gladly accepts.
"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, the owner and acting CEO of this company." I finish the introduction, noticing the man's smile growing which only accentuates his naturally handsome features.
"Pleasure is all mine." Bowing his head, angling my hand up ever so slightly, he presses his lips to the back of it like a proper gentleman. It’s almost impossible not to swoon over the gesture or the British accent I noted immediately when he spoke.
"Although, I must say I'm disappointed you do not remember me." He feigns hurt, letting my hand go slowly, reluctantly.
I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, wetting my lips and take a second look at the man. “Pardon?”
His dark blonde hair is perfectly curly, long enough for them to form but not to fall to his forehead as it would make it seem unkempt. His large, deep-set blue eyes bore into mine almost as if he’s looking for something he cared for dearly but lost along the way. A spark hiding behind his heavy look reminds me of a flame I once lost myself. The color is different, but the emotion remains the same.
His lips are set in a confident smirk, aware of my hungry, shameless gaze. His lips are rosy instead of pink, small instead of plush. His cheekbones are set high and defined, just as is his sharp jawline that could cut glass like a diamond.
He's tall. Much taller than I am. The broad shoulders give enough definition to his muscles so one can easily conclude he works out, but doesn't kill himself in the gym.
He is the epitome of beauty. Perfection. I can't deny that.
"I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met." I apologize again, wanting to keep this man around. For business purposes.
"It's Troy Lahey. We met when I was just an assistant. I suppose I didn't leave a lasting impression." Quirking an eyebrow, Troy brushes the awkwardness away as he helps me take my seat like a gentleman would.
Grayson used to do that for me as well. Opening the door, taking out the chair, even carrying my bag no matter how pink or flowery it is. A rare quality in men these days. Even after all these years, I compare everyone to Grayson. It’s involuntary, almost like a compulsive need.
"I'll make sure I remember you now." I muss, steering the conversation business wise. It didn't take long for us to reach an agreement as he is an agreeable man, very open minded and open to adventure.
"Have you ever hear about Rosie's?" He stops to ask just as I stand to take my leave. I turn around with lips part, possibly some worry passing my features. No matter how hard I’ve worked on my poker face, I still can’t hide my surprise. I can’t remember the last time a man as attractive like him paid any attention to me. More likely, I can’t remember the last time I paid any attention to a man, any man.
"Please don't tell me they're closing. It's my favorite restaurant." I frown, seeing his face light up as he stands as well.
"Nothing like that. I was just wondering if I could buy you dinner this Friday. Or any day you please?" He proposes and I nearly choke on my saliva. He's handsome. He's intelligent. He's everything I searched for and everything I avoided to find.
My heart is still bleeding. My heart still needs time. Six years isn't enough. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.
"Since we've just agreed to work together on a project, I cannot in good conscience agree to that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to get to." I say politely, noting his smile grow as if he took my rejection as a challenge and although I'm sure it bruised his ego, he won't just stop. He knows I like him and he seems like a man who fights for what he wants.
"I'm a determined man and I think you know that."
"Arrogant." I challenge, fueling the fire.
"Mhmm...I'd say confident." His charming accent can stop a women's heart and while I'd usually find the persistence annoying, he doesn't annoy me. If anything, he amuses me.
But I walk out the door regardless, waving over my shoulder.
Rushing halfway across town, I manage to get to my second meeting just in time. Still in a frenzy, I walk into the meeting only to find someone I never thought I'd see again.
Dropping my files, I feel my legs wobble as I stumble forward and lose footing.
Strong arms wrap around me, catching me in the nick of time and I open my eyes to find myself in a warm embrace of my first love.
"Grayson?" I breathe out his name, my hand instinctively cupping his cheek like I did all those years ago.
"It's really you." He says slowly, his eyes taking me in like I'm a mirage. His earthly hues glaze over with tears as I swallow my own.
Six years of distance between us. Six years of silence, of thinking what he must be doing and how he’s doing. Six years of picking up the phone to call him just to hear his voice. Six years and now he's here with me, holding me tightly like his life depends on it.
"Hi." I smile, feeling him slowly steady my body, but on the inside I'm fireworks and tsunamis, hurricanes catching on fire.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, not meaning to be rude, just curious. Leaning back on the desk as his hold relents, I interlock my fingers to stop my hands from shaking.
Grayson rubs the back of his neck nervously as he always did, shyly looking to his feet first before allowing himself to truly look at me.
He's scanning my body, looking for something that remained the same, something to cling to. I find myself doing the same.
His hair is no longer floppy nor falling in his eyes, making it seem darker, cropped almost. His eyebrows are a little less bushy and I can't help but wonder if he has someone plucking the extra hair like I used to do whenever I managed to overpower him long enough or bribe him with a tasty treat...or myself. His lips are the same plushy pink, perfectly smooth and kissable.
Instead of smooth skin, he bears a stubble, adding age onto his once young looks. His eyes remain the same, the understanding, and kind, gentle soul shining through and he still has the wing shaped earring I bought him. It was a gift for our first month anniversary where I promised I'd be his angel, one to keep him safe as long as the earring remains in its place.
Holding my breath at that realization, I swallow thickly, allowing the need for tears to wither away.
He's grown wider, there are more muscles and definitely more tattoos. I wonder if he had our matching tattoo removed.
“It’s going to be fine.” Grayson speaks slowly, his hands clutching mine as a grin replaces his smirk. “I’ll hold your hand and everything.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I raise an eyebrow. “My parents will kill me. This isn’t even legal, Gray.” Biting my lower lip, I cast my gaze down to his thigh and the unmistakable ink etched into his skin.
“I won’t force you, but I really think it would be cute, ya know? Couple goals and all that? Imagine telling this story to our kids!” The excitement in his eyes is overpowering, entirely enchanting and I’m not sure if he’s even aware of the effect he has on people. His smile, his happiness is positively infectious. He’s incredibly charismatic and charming, turning heads without even trying.
Sighing, I nod. “As long as I get a kiss every time it hurts.”
Pecking my lips, Grayson nods too. “You have yourself a deal, my angel.”
I look at him and still see my Grayson, just a little bigger and stronger, teensy bit older but incredibly beautiful.
Does he still see me as me? Have I changed? Does he find me attractive now? Did I ever even cross his mind?
"I, uh...I was just supposed to deliver some papers. I didn't know I was delivering them to you." He puts his hands on his hips, licking his lips. His gaze wanders, scared to make eye contact.
"Construction crew?" I inquire, unsure what to do when all I want is for him to hold me like we're teenagers again and tell me all he's done or seen since we parted.
"Yeah. Ethan and I started our own little business. This was actually his idea." Grayson frowns, suspecting Ethan had organized this meeting behind his back, but I don't think so. I would have known, would I not?
"It’s really good to see you." He focuses on me once more and my heart jumps. "I missed you." He adds and I know it's over for me. All my what ifs are standing before me, incorporated into one man I had never stopped loving and no matter how hard I fight it, I want to be around him longer.
"And I you. Is it possible for you to stay? Have dinner with me while you're here?" I offer courageously, terrified he might say no.
"I'd love that!" He claps his hands together, a wide smile taking over his face and I see his eyes light up.
Smiling too, I let my heart guide me for the night. If nothing else, I should at the very least have the courage to spend a few more hours with him. After all this time, it will either offer us a second chance or give me closure.
“I have a car waiting for me, it can take us to Rosie’s.” Without thinking, I take his hand only to pause, questioning if it’s alright.
In my moment of doubt, Grayson interlocks our fingers and I let out a relieved sigh. “Rosie’s? Is it your favorite restaurant?”
Giggling, I nod. “Yeah. I always have my faves, but you knew that already.”
Once outside, Grayson steps before me, releasing my hand and just as I’m about to protest, I find he did it so he’d open the car door for me. Fighting the urge to smile, I pray my cheeks aren’t blushing at the gesture, but my eyes are flooded with emotions regardless.
“Are you okay?” Grayson’s hand rests on my hip and I hold my breath, nodding vehemently.
“Yeah, the wind is cold.” I point at my eyes, forcing a smile. “Cold winds are ruthless to my eyes.” Sniffling, I sit inside and send Lily a quick text to get me a seat at Rosie’s. Leaving my phone aside, I tuck my shaky hands under my thighs.
“It’s been so long since I came to New York. I didn’t even know you’re here now.” Grayson moves a little closer, his hand nearly brushing my thigh and I couldn’t help but glance at it every so often.
“I moved back last year. Los Angeles was beautiful and I loved the climate, but New York…It’s the closest to home.” Licking my lips, I shrug. “I guess I needed a change of scenery.”
“Miss, Lily wanted you to know Rosie’s closed for the day, but she made a reservation down in that new restaurant she mentioned. She said you’d know which.” The driver explains and I nod, grateful for the interruption. The last thing I need now is to overwhelm Grayson with all the reasons why I wanted to be in New York.
“That’s fine. Take us there.” Glancing at Grayson, I swallow thickly. His eyes never left me. Though I could sense he wanted to ask me something more, something that would likely bring up the past, Grayson remains quiet for the next few minutes. Luckily the restaurant isn’t far.
“Wait up.” Grayson runs out, circling the car before opening the door, offering his hand.
Reluctant, I look up only to meet his gaze. He’s uneasy, just as I am. So, I place my hand in his and let him help me out.
Sitting, ordering, it all happened so quickly, clouded with awkward silence neither of us could break. But he does. After all, he was always the outgoing one, speaking his mind with no restrain.
“Why didn’t you come back?” The uncertainty in his voice grips me as does my guilt, my heart sinking. “I always thought you’d come back after you finished college and I…I really thought you’d come back to me.”
Rubbing my forehead, I break eye contact. He’s pulling on my heartstrings, each of them breaking as he insists on answers I can’t be sure of.
“I can’t go home. I can’t be there. I don’t feel sane in New Jersey. It’s too much.” I sigh, hating the tears rimming my eyes. “I always thought you’d come after me”, I chuckle with a slight shake of my head. “Every day, for years, I expected you to show up on my doorstep and tell me you never meant to let me go.”
“I’m here now.” Reaching out, Grayson places his hand upon mine and I tense up. I don’t know why.
“But you’ll be gone by tomorrow. You said you’d never leave New Jersey. You said that and I hoped you’d change your mind, but you didn’t.” Cocking my head to the right, I glance at his quivering bottom lip. “Did you?”
“No.” Grayson draws a deep breath before leaning back, taking his hand with him. “I didn’t. I didn’t even know you’d want me to after that night.”
“I can’t breathe here! Everywhere I look, I see them! How can you not understand that?!” My voice is raw from all the shouting, the argument seemingly never-ending.
“Why can’t you stay for me? Am I not important enough? You know my family is here! My twin, my mother and father! My whole damn family, it’s not my fault”, I interject, stopping his thought.
“That I don’t have a family anymore? Is that it? You’re really going that route?” I croak, shaking my head. Running my hands through my hair, I turn away from him.
“You know that’s now what I meant.” Grayson sighs loudly, annoyed. “You’re making me out to be a monster because you need a reason to leave and not look back, but I’m not going to make it easy on you. I won’t.” He steps closer, his presence undeniable. “I will not be a punching bag for you. I love you. I want to marry you some day. I want to have kids with you. But I don’t want to leave my life here. I don’t want to follow you across the country just for you to look at me the way you just did.” Exhaling, his hand rests on my shoulder and I step away, needing my space.
“I’m not pushing you away.” I turn back, wrapping my arms around me. I feel cold, not on the outside but the inside of my body. I’m freezing and I’m burning, just the air here is toxic and I can’t live here. I can’t spend my whole life constantly being reminded of the worst thing that ever happened to me. If I stay, I’ll be trapped in misery.
“It sure as hell feels like it.” Grayson spat and I understand. I understand he doesn’t know how to handle this, because we never had to deal with this before. It’s new and strange and scary and it changed me in ways we can’t still fully smooth over.
“I’m not pushing you away, I’m holding on for dear life!” I choke up, shaking my head as I struggle to inhale. The pressure in my chest is crushing my heart and lungs and I can’t breathe, I can’t think. It’s too much. “I’m asking you to come with me. I’m begging you to, but you won’t.” Wiping my tears I step away from him once again as I notice him reach for me. “You’re giving up on us. You. Not me.”
I walked away that night, left New Jersey the next day as planned.
“Of course I wanted you.” A small smile appears on my lips as I notice his eyes are swimming in unshed tears as well. “I’ve always wanted you.” I add, letting out a heavy sigh. “But I couldn’t stay there. It would have killed me.”
“I could have helped you. I could have been there for you.” Grayson insists, his tone sharp and yet it’s laced with regret.
Does he wish he went with me?
“No one could have helped me back then. The only cure was to leave and I did it to protect my sanity.”
“I could have tried.” Slamming his fist on the table, Grayson stood abruptly, walking toward the exit.
Putting a hundred on the table, I rush after him, my purse in hand. “Wait!” I shout after him, catching him on the street as he tried to hail a cab. “Grayson.” I breathe out, taking his hand in mine.
“Go back to your perfect life, Y/N.” He remarks, hurt written in every line of his tearstained face. He’s crying. Is that why he left?
“It’s not perfect,” I croak. “Not nearly as perfect as it could have been.”
Cupping my left cheek, Grayson’s thumb runs from the corner of my lips to my cheek and back, drawing a gentle smile on my behalf. Leaning down, his forehead rests upon mine, his nose brushing against the tip of mine. His warm breath is tickling my skin, my lips parting and eyes closing in anticipation of his.
“I really want to kiss you right now.” He whispers and I open my eyes. His brown hues are closed, his lips are quivering. Tears are still running down his cheeks.
Letting go of his hand, I cup his face too, breathing heavily. “So kiss me.”
He licks his lips, hesitantly brushing my cold ones. We have feelings that are not visible, we do things to prevent ourselves from being miserable. Being honest is all we have left. Our need to have a taste of the comfort the other one offers is undeniable.
Grayson is the first to end the wait. He kissed me and the world fell away. It’s slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rests below my ear, his thumb caressing my left cheek as our breaths mingle. Running my fingers down his back, I pull him closer until there is no space left between us and I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest.
It’s perfect. It’s mind-blowing and sensual, forming worlds where we weren’t torn apart six years ago, where we could have made it. There’s no tears in those worlds, no aching desire and longing for one last look.
I never want it to end. But it does. It has to. Everything ends eventually. For us, the end began with a phone ringing.
“Fuck.” He grunts under his breath, looking at me with newfound uncertainty as he picks up his phone, taking a few steps away for privacy.
Wordless, I stand to the side, breathless even now. All I thought I lost before is right before me and it feels like a dream. I’ve been in pieces and with a single kiss, Grayson made me feel whole.
“I, uh, I’m so sorry.” Grayson mumbles, typing something on his phone. “I really have to go. It was really great seeing you again.” He manages a smile as he hails a cab, successfully so.
“Oh.” It’s all I can say, feeling dejected by the sudden change in atmosphere. A part of me expected for him to come home with me, for us to take tomorrow off and stay in bed, talking and making love. I wanted more time. Is it wrong I hoped we’d get back together too?
“I’ll tell Ethan you said hi.” He adds before pecking my cheek. In a moment, he was gone once more.
I couldn’t sleep that night. The moments we spent together kept replaying in my head over and over again and I tried to figure out where I went wrong. Did I do something to make him leave?
Dragging myself out of bed, I arrive at work looking like a hot mess.
“You look like a hot mess.” Lily reminds me and I groan, ignoring her as I enter my office.
“Oh, good morning.” Troy’s chipper tone makes me flinch and I stop, wide-eyed as I realize he’s standing in my office, a cup of coffee in hand and a dazzling smile to go with it.
“I didn’t realize we have a meeting.” I admit, looking around to make sure I didn’t walk into someone else’s office.
“We don’t, but I like to be proactive. I’ve made the initial sketches and left them on your desk.” With a smile as bright as the sun, he passes by me only to stop right next to me. “You look beautiful.”
Glancing his way, all I catch is his back as he leaves me alone in the room. Just me, the coffee he bought me, a stack of papers and…a bouquet?
Wild flowers bring some color to my rather old-fashioned office, breathing some life into the room. I smile, stepping closer only to find a single rose in the center of the bouquet as well as a note. It’s typed, not handwritten and there’s no signature.
“Lily?” I call out for her while opening the note with a hint of a smile adorning my lips.
She appreciated the beauty of a rose, the symbolism. But she never liked roses. No. Her love was always reserved for lilacs, violets and other wild flowers that painted the very essence of her soul.
“Yes?” Lily enters and I turn to her with a wide smile.
“Who sent this?” Was it Grayson? Did he want to tell me something? The words are so beautiful, and just right. I’ve never liked to receive roses, but wild flowers made my heart go crazy. Who else could know this but him?
“I don’t know. I didn’t see them delivered.” Lily frowns, stepping closer. “Must have been delivered when I was in the bathroom or something.” She shrugs, still a little troubled.
“Oh.” I furrow my eyebrows, biting my lower lip.
“Why, what does the note say?” Lily narrows her eyes as I smile. “What’s that smile for?”
“Lily, book me a ticked.” I decide right then and there. My what if’s will no longer dictate my future. Whether these came from Grayson or not, I have to see him again. “I’m going home.”
* *** * *** *
A/N - If you’ve made it this far, let me know if you like it and want more. It’s an old draft I polished a little which is why it’s written in the reader’s POV, something I haven’t done in quite some time.
#grayson dolan#grayson dolan x reader#grayson dolan imagine#grayson dolan angst#grayson dolan fluff#grayson dolan fanfic#grayson dolan fic#grayson dolan fanfiction#dolan twins
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A Heartfelt Talk Under The Snow ||Drabble for a friend||
@bcrnitdown
I’m not feeling as festive this year, but I figured Xmas would create a very cute environment for this.
Anyway, Nightmares are absolutely terrible. Especially if they are more terrifying each time, if it becomes scary enough, it can even be slightly scarring. I apologize in advance for possibly(Likely) butchering Ashe in this but I’ll do my best to be as exact as I can, tho there’s no way it would ever be as amazing as your take on her is.
I hope this helps brighten up your day at least a little bit Anarchy <3
Please enjoy below the cut since it will likely be long.
After a busy week full of successful heists and robberies, the Deadlock gang was pretty much set for the holiday. Everyone at camp was in a festive mood and the decorations John had helped Ashe put up were really creating a peaceful holiday environment for everyone. The gang seemed to be having a great time, a bunch of the guys were drinking with a game of poker, some playing five finger filet and dominos, even horseshoe. It had been a very long time since he had been in a gang of Outlaws, but it was thanks to things like this, that would remind him that even a group of murderers, robberies, liars, cheats and thieves, could still be considered a family, and John had to admit, it made him remember the good old days of his old gang, the memories of his time there with everyone would forever remain in his heart, and he’d take them wherever his future would go.
Although this would seem like a mistake to his old friends, they had their own lives to live now, so whatever he did, was up to him. As for Uncle, well he would probably be fine, he had the whole ranch now, and honestly, he didn’t care too much for going back to Beechers Hope, precisely why he had decided to join them. Despite being back in the old life again, something very good came out of it. John had met Ashe. And despite the two of them trying to keep it professional, over time, it had developed into something much more personal and special. They had become very close and it was a connection that John cherished.
While everyone else got completely hammered in the background, while John and Ashe were drinking, they weren’t drunk yet, maybe a little buzzed but that was it, for right now anyway.
As everyone carried on with their drunken holiday fun in the background, John and Ashe were sitting near a cliff. John had directed them to Shady Belle as their new spot for camp, and it had this cliff that gave off this amazing view of the water below and the beautiful environment after it.
[{ ☠ }] - “Ya know. it’s been a real long time since I celebrated the holiday season like this..”
John speaks, reflecting on the only other time he had celebrated which was back with the Van Der Linde Gang, he was still with Abigail back then, but ever since he had joined Deadlock, the name Abigail Roberts was nothing more than a ghost to him now. Did he still regret failing to prove himself to Abigail? Well, sometimes, but not so much anymore. Though the odd time here and there, he did find himself wondering how they were doing, and if Jack actually followed his dream of being a Lawyer.
“I reckon it’s been’a few years then ain’t it?” She asked.
A nod in response.
[{ ☠ }] - “Yeah, last time I celebrated like this, I uh... I had me a family.”
Red eyes widened a little, she was pretty shocked at finding out he used to have a family. She felt the urge to make a playful joke about it, but seeing how different he was acting, Ashe knew this was a likely a deep wound for him, so she decided against it.
“A family? Like with a woman an’ child?” She softly asked, to which John gave a slow nod.
Ashe looked over at him, curious eyes as she observed him carefully. He seemed to be having a good time at first, but now, Ashe noticed a look of slight sadness in his eyes. Ashe was never the one to openly show affection, especially in situations like this, but when the moment called for it, Ashe could be gentle and sweet, of course, only outside of the eyes of the others in Deadlock, she had a persona to keep after all, but with John, she had no problem shifting to support him if needed, they had a special connection after all. so instead, she sat there and listened.
[{ ☠ }] - “Yeah.. I met after my group saved her, she joined us...sometime later, had me a son..Jack was his name. The boy never did like me much. Don’t blame him though, I wasn’t the best father back then.”
[{ ☠ }] - “But t’make a long story short, after it all went to hell, I tried changin’ my life around. Makin’ an honest livin’ an such. One day, I had to pick up my guns again to protect the place we was stayin’ at. my old lady didn’t really like me bein’ some gunslinger and after me and my son got shot at by some revenge seeking bastards, she went and left me. Tried my best t’show her I could be a different man, even went outta my way t’make a bank loan so I could buy us a ranch. Two friends and I built it. Sent her a letter, but... she didn’t come back.”
Ashe listened in silence as he told his story, this had been the first time that John had gave this much details about his past, so Ashe was a little caught off guard by it all, but she felt for him. The poor man really had done his best, and the fact she still didn’t return to him after all that? It was sad. Her expression softens.
“I didn’t know ya had yerself a family before... wow, I’m real sorry John.”
A slow nod of acknowledgment.
[{ ☠ }] - “I don’t blame her, if I was her, I’d leave me too..” The sadness in his tone was more evident at the end of his sentence.
Ashe would gentle rest a hand on his leg in comfort. A brief silence would follow, but a comfortable one even despite the grim topic. After the two stared out at the view watching the snow gently fall gracefully to the ground. It was snowy but it wasn’t cold out and was actually pretty nice.
With a gentle bite of her bottom lip, Ashe moved closer to John and gently rested her head on his shoulder. It was sudden, but John didn’t hesitate to tilt his head her direction so they were touching heads. After a few minutes, she would lift her head off his slowly but looked up at him slowly inching closer until they were touching foreheads.
“Personally John, I think you’re a much better Outlaw than a Father..” She would reach her hand up to gently cup his cheek caressing it gently.
“But ya know what? There ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, and I think yer a great man, perfectly bad, but ina’ good kinda’ way..Ah’m real glad ya joined Deadlock, My family, is your family..”
Ashe’s words made John’s heart flutter a bit, for others, that would probably be considered some kind of insult. But what she had just said, had been the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him in a very long time, he was used to Uncle belittling him for everyone and being the target of Uncle’s jokes. He had no regrets about joining Deadlock.
[{ ☠ }] - “Ashe...y-” John’s sentence was suddenly cut off by Ashe gently putting a finger on his lips shushing him.
“..John.. look up.”
John takes his head off hers for a moment to notice that there was a mistletoe above them. The exact moment John looked back down at her, she cupped his cheek, leaned in and kissed him on the lips. John was quick to wrap his hands around her waist while she put her arms around his neck. The kissed they shared had been a long passionate one, and the moment they pulled away, they went in for another and proceeded to escalate into a make out session, but a heartfelt one full of passion until they finally took a breather. The warmth of their personal campfire next to their spot on the cliff was keeping them warm, so laying on his sleeping bag, Ashe would lay her head over his chest.
[{ ☠ }] - “Ya think the others are wondering where we are?” John asks.
“Ahhh those guys can wait a little. Ah’m comfy.” She shifts her head to look up at him.
“Don’t think Ah’m headin’ back in anytime soon anyway..” She says giving him a little smile.
A soft chuckle followed by a warm smile of his own.
[{ ☠ }] - “Good, I ain’t moving either.” The two would lay there enjoying each others company for a while before John finally broke the silence.
[{ ☠ }] - “Ashe... you’ve given this fool right here, a home... thank you..”
A light blush on her cheek, but she’s quick to lay her head back down on his chest and hide it.
No John.. thank you.
#bcrnitdown#Tʜᴇ Nᴇᴡ Aɢᴇ Bᴏɴɴɪᴇ Aɴᴅ Cʟʏᴅᴇ ( Pᴏsᴛ-RDR2 Oᴜᴛʟᴀᴡ Vᴇʀsᴇ || ʙᴄʀɴɪᴛᴅᴏᴡɴ || )#I hope this helps at least put a smile on your face Anarchy#Bc you deserve one after those horrible dreams#I did my best to make it as cute and precious as possible#I hope you enjoy#And I hope I didn't butcher Ashe too bad ahaha..#Much love to you Anarchy <3#John x Ashe#Drabble#Christmas Drabble
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