#HEY GIRL THIS PIECE TOOK WAY TOO FUCKING LONG BECAUSE OF THE PERSPECTIVE WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF

[ashleys-doodle-corner]

ED 14: Fire Exit Are you sure you still know where you're going?

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

care less, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, implied taehyung x reader

summary: There are countless partings in this world. People come in and out of your life, impacts large and small. But there is one where you could care less. You really could. And that’s Min Yoongi, your high school ex-boyfriend, the one who took something from you and promptly disappeared, only to come back with a furious declaration, on the night you’re supposed to teach Kim Taehyung how to eat pussy.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, discussions about adult topics; mentions of slut shaming; reader is pansexual; rough angsty smut (fem reader, slight dom/sub themes, m-receiving oral, overstimulation, hair-pulling, cowgirl); regrets everywhere; non-idol!AU; exes-to-lovers; pianist, softsub!Yoongi

inspired by “I get mad when I see you, and even madder when I don't”, wet-haired Yoongi in Run BTS! 131, ONEWE’s song ‘소행성 (Parting)’, and you’re probably wondering how these things go together. 

–

"How do you eat a girl out?"

"I... what?"

"How," Kim Taehyung repeated, slower this time, emphasizing each syllable with his impossibly deep voice. "Do you eat a girl out?"

"Why are you asking me?"

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. "Because you've hooked up with tons of girls. You must have eaten out at least one of them." You blinked at him as he continued. "I figure you have a unique perspective because you're a girl whose probably been eaten out and whose eaten out other girls."

You put down your spicy chicken. "Is this why you offered to buy me lunch?"

Taehyung's giant brown eyes shifted around uncomfortably. "Look," he said in a hushed tone. "I took this girl on a nice date and then it got to the spicy bit–"

"Leading her on, yes, yes, continue."

Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you but ignored your comment, barreling on. "And she asked me to eat her out, but I didn't know what I was doing."

"An absolute tragedy for sex god Kim Taehyung," you mocked. He growled and threw one of his chicken bones in your direction as you laughed. 

"Oi, this is serious!"

You kept cracking up, taking a bite of spicy crispy meat. "Yes, seriously funny." He kept glaring at you, so you relented a little. "She didn't ask for the dick like everyone else?"

Taehyung pouted. "Well, she did, after I spent twenty minutes doing what she called, basically nothing," he scowled. 

You shrugged. "Then you redeemed yourself, so what's the problem?"

Taehyung crouched over the table, stabbing your plastic tray. "The problem is, she's gonna tell other girls I can't eat pussy."

"Nah, she won't," you chewed, relishing the spiciness of the chicken. "She'll be too busy daydreaming about your giant dick."

Taehyung frowned, obviously not believing you. You casually are another piece of chicken, watching him contemplating. He was wearing cream slacks and a beige sweater, casually handsome with his dark brown hair, long enough to curl around his eyebrows. His fried chicken was already demolished into bones. He always got his not spicy. 

You never understood that. 

"Why didn't you ask me to eat you out?"

You shrugged. "We were only hooking up. I wanted to sit on your dick like everyone else."

"Teach me."

Your fingers were turning bright red with the crispy breading on the meat. You could feel the tingle of the spice on your puffy lips and throat, a measured fire burning. You didn’t bother to reach for your drink. Better to lull in the fire for a bit.

"Taehyung, it's just practice."

"Then let me practice on you."

You sucked out a bit of chicken from your teeth as you gave him a disbelieving look. "Thought your policy was to never fuck twice?"

He shrugged. "Not technically a fuck? Besides, you're the Sex Teacher," he added with a snicker.

You rolled your eyes. "Ugh, don't call me that. Some dudes started calling me that just because I took some guy's virginity."

"You've probably taken several virginities with your track record."

"Speak for yourself."

"Do you or do you not know how to eat a girl out?" Taehyung asked, brown eyes boring into you.

You picked up the toothpick the restaurant had provided you and stuck it between your teeth. Brushed the crumbs off your flannel dress and picked up your tray, standing up. 

"'Course I do."

-

Thus, you were now in your apartment with Kim Taehyung, several days later, wondering why you agreed to this nonsense. 

"Do I just whip off your pants or what?"

You rolled your eyes, keeping a firm grip on your gray sweatpants. He had arrived in a long black coat and brown turtleneck, black billowy slacks. Kicked his shoes off and presented you with said question.

"What do I get out of this?" you grumbled, turning around and heading into your apartment, shivering a little because of your loose white t-shirt that you had cut in half ages ago, turning it into a crop top. It had a stain at the bottom, so what better way to fix it than chop it off? Still, you should have opened the front door with your hoodie on, but it would warm up soon with the door now closed. 

"What do you what? Money?"

"I'm not a prostitute, Taehyung," you muttered. "Even if you think I am."

"I don't," Taehyung said coolly. "But money happens to buy things, so maybe you want some to buy something for yourself."

You pursed your lips, grabbing your mint thermos of warm water. It was a bit weird, but you preferred warm water over most drinks, except soda. But you couldn't be binging on soda all day, unfortunately, so you tried not to buy it and stuck with the water. Kept you from getting diabetes. Damn you, weak human body!

"Nice nips."

You raised an eyebrow as you took a sip. You weren't wearing a bra. Your hard nipples were poking through the t-shirt thanks to the cold.

"Are they distracting your fragile mind?"

Taehyung smiled, dark curls around his teasing brown eyes. "No, I'm simply appreciating them. A lot."

You looked down. Taehyung opened his coat. You sucked in the side of your lip, seeing his bulge. Maybe he was too chill with you now. Ever since you two realized your sex partners overlapped, a strange friendship developed. You’d talk about it casually with him, as if you two were discussing Pokémon trading cards instead of one-night stands. He would advise you against so-and-so and you would warn him about who-the-fuck-ever. Of course, you two only figured that out after you sat on his dick, but, hey, it was a nice dick. Lived up to the hype.

Unlike Taehyung, you didn't really have any weird rules when it came to hooking up. You went with the flow, and if you were feeling it, then you did it. Didn't really matter who it was, what gender, if they wanted to be upside down on a park bench as you sucked their balls and they jacked off into their own face (happened once, was kind of interesting to be honest). Taehyung, however, had some kind of conquest thing going on, numbers and all that, and needed everyone to know he was good at it. Insanely good. Mind-blowingly good. 

Taehyung closed his coat, tilting his head. "Whatchu want then? Not another fuck. Something else."

Your doorbell rang. 

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," you muttered, slamming your thermos down and marching to the door. "What is this, a fucking zoo, I swear–"

You wrenched the door open. 

"Fuck you."

Slightly slurred, husky, deep. 

Okay, well, yeah, sure, after I teach Taehyung how to–

The black head of hair raised and your thought disintegrated into pure shock.

"I get mad when I see you," the man growled. "And even madder when I don't."

He was holding a half-full bottle of soju.

"I... what?" was your incredibly weak reply, because you were staring at the hunched form of Min Yoongi. Black hair longer than the last time you saw him, styled over a clean undercut, wearing a torn-up black bomber jacket and a green t-shirt, acid-wash jeans with giant holes, revealing his pink, slightly bruised knees. He was breathing hard, glaring at you. 

Accusing you. 

Suddenly the years without him felt like an eternity.

"Hyung?!"

Oh right. Taehyung existed. 

But you couldn't react, couldn't breathe, starstruck, awestruck, dumbstruck at seeing Min Yoongi at your doorstep. Yoongi cocked at eyebrow, looking past you, and Taehyung's body was suddenly pressed against your back, reminding you, yes, he was real, actually there, why was he there again? What was life?

"Hyung, holy shit! I haven't seen you in ages, since..." Taehyung's voice suddenly died, baritone vanishing into nothing. 

"Why the fuck is he here?" Yoongi grunted.

"I... was going to ask her to–"

"He was leaving," you interrupted, shoving Taehyung from behind you to in front of you. "Taking his coat and leaving."

"What?" Taehyung sputtered, brown eyes wide, confused, blinking rapidly. "Hyung, why do you have a bottle of soju–"

Yoongi clicked his tongue, very loudly. 

"Forget this."

He turned, but Taehyung grabbed his arm. 

Not you.

Taehyung stopped Yoongi. 

The world was so cold. Your arm outstretched but touching nothing, because Taehyung was faster, Taehyung was closer, and you were so very far away from Min Yoongi. Yoongi turned his head slowly, venom in his gaze. 

"Hyung."

Yoongi's eyes locked with yours, making you breathless. 

"I don't understand," Taehyung said quietly. "What's going on? I thought you didn't care about her."

Those cat-like eyes narrowed, expression cold and emotionless. "Is that what you told them?"

It was airless and then the world burst into flames.

"You didn't tell me until the last day," you hissed, curling your hands into fists, voice rising. "You told all your friends, but you didn't tell me until the last day, not until the very last second before you flew to fucking Europe to go to university for that fucking music program!"

Taehyung's eyes widened. "Y-You said she didn't care..."

"Fuck you, Min Yoongi," you snarled, every muscle in your arms tensing, remembering all the moments, the gentleness that turned to coldness, the last night and what he took from you, turning into years and years of not caring about anything, fucking everything in sight, anyone who said yes, trying to forget his kiss and his memory before he got on a fucking plane and flew time zones away, never trying to contact you after. 

"Fuck you for thinking you can be angry at me for any reason at all, fuck you for thinking I did anything, fucking anything, to deserve that shit, taking my fucking virginity and leaving me!"

"I didn't take your virginity," Yoongi spat back, spinning around, hair bristling. "You lost it to that–"

"Maybe you should have fucking asked me instead of believing stupid fucking rumors!"

The human body was useless, but also driven by emotion, and you didn't even feel cold anymore, years of anger piled up, rumors that you were a whore, so you became that whore, owning it, doing it all, because why did it fucking matter when everyone already thought that? Sex Teacher they called you and your first teacher was standing in front of you, completely clueless. 

Fucking idiot.

Yoongi glared at you. You glared back. 

Taehyung stood there, gawking.

Yoongi's eyes dropped. He shoved the half-empty bottle of soju into Taehyung's arms and pushed Taehyung aside, Taehyung flailing to prevent dropping the glass bottle, and closed the distance between you and him, and now you could see, older, more tired, still handsome, still the same dreamer from years ago who traced your fingers and placed them on the keys, slowly helping you play the notes even though you didn’t know jack shit, and you enthralled with his smile, his laugh, his dream of becoming a world-renowned pianist.

Yoongi grabbed your face and kissed you. 

The first was the scent of alcohol, a subtle sweetness on his lips, but alcohol nonetheless. The second was the softness, the faint flush of his cheeks paired with his lips on yours, dainty despite the strength in grip on your cheeks. The third. 

Heat.

The years-old iceberg of 'I-don't-give-a-shit' melting faster than the polar ice caps, sheets and sheets of ice crashing into the sea of emotions, youth and stubbornness combined, melted in his kiss, you grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking him in your apartment, Taehyung calling after you both.

"Um, guys? Hello?"

"Go drinking Taehyung," Yoongi growled and slammed the door. 

-

Taehyung held the half-bottle of soju.

What now?

What about his reputation?

He frowned. 

Maybe he should call up Park Jimin. 

Taehyung took a sip of the soju as he walked away. He made a disgusted face. Ugh. Why did hyung like such strong shit? The flavor was unique and rich, but his throat felt like a layer of skin was being sloughed off.

One would only drink something like this if they were depressed. 

Oh.

-

"Your reputation precedes you."

"Fuck off."

"You became quite a woman."

"And you're still an insensitive shit."

You yanked his jacket off and dumped it on the floor, fists back in his green shirt, biting his lip, kissing him hard, him gasping in your mouth, his hands on your breasts, kneading them through the t-shirt, fingertips brushing over your hard nipples, sparks of pleasure crackling through you. 

"I was trying to protect you," Yoongi snarled, just as angry as you, both frustrated at time lost, both knowing it was for the best, both realizing that his misunderstanding and your reaction was just shitty communication of stubborn youth and time past that couldn't reset.

But still. 

Anger doesn't care about reason. 

"Protect me, my ass," you scowled, dragging him into your kitchen, pinning him against the counter. "What do you think I am, emotional fragility queen?"

"You wouldn't have cared?" he shot back, gripping your shirt and flinging it up, sucking in a breath as he revealed your tits. 

"Obviously! Why would I spend years being a slut to forget about your stupid hands?" you scowled, grabbing his wrists, planting said hands on your breasts, shuddering at the cold touch, chilled by night air, not exactly the same hands as back then, but better, rougher, strength of a man and not a high school boy, thumb and index finger rolling your hard nipples. Once again, fistfuls of his shirt, shaking him aggressively through heavy breaths. "You and your stupid mouth."

Kissing him, not the same, but better, stronger, more intense, stained with alcohol and regrets, devouring your tongue hungrily, intertwining.

"It would have ended the same," Yoongi murmured, the hurt creeping in his grating voice. 

It would have. 

And that was the shittest bit.

Knowing that even if he told you earlier that it would hurt no less, knowing that you would have gone and fucked other people anyway, because even if you tried to make it long distance, it wouldn't have worked. Some people could do it, but not young you and young Yoongi, too immature to know the meaning of wait.

"Still gives you no right to believe the words of others instead of asking me outright," you muttered, bending him backwards on the counter with your weight and he was letting you do it, hands still glued to your tits. "Why would believe that shit?"

"Because it was easier to leave you that way," Yoongi admitted, shame flitting in his dark eyes. 

"Fucking shit, you're an idiot."

You already knew that. Guessed, after years of agonizing over it. Easier to be angry than understanding. Easier to feel pain than to acknowledge it. What could you do? Tell him not to go to Europe? Not when his parents, his family, his friends, his neighbors, fuck, the whole damn school was ecstatic and congratulatory for him, everyone except you, not because you didn’t want Yoongi to follow his dreams, but because you wanted him to stay.

With you.

Selfishly.

And so, it was so much easier to be mad, so much easier for the two of you to fight until he tumbled on top of you, kissing you, tearing off your clothes as you tore off his and the first time hurt, it hurt but not as much as you thought, maybe because there was so much adrenaline from the anger and because he was so careful and loving about it.

He really was.

And there was pain, but it was nothing compared to the pain you felt the next day and the day after, and the next month, years, numbing everything, agreeing to really stupid propositions like the thing with Taehyung, all because you knew and he knew, but you both chose to be mad over being reasonable.

You hauled Yoongi up onto your kitchen counter, him kicking the side of the cabinets to lift himself up, not speaking. One look in his eyes and you saw yourself reflected in them, so close to tears that you kept your mouth shut and he kept his shut, preferring the anger to the sadness.

Because deep down, you were so, so happy to see Yoongi again.

It didn’t discount any of the wrongs though.

You fumbled with the button of his jeans and his hands came to help, unzipping, fingertips tracing over yours, more agile than before, swifter than an amateur. You raised your head, locking your gaze with his.

Yoongi was panting, cheeks flushed, guilt consuming his features.

It stung.

You yanked his pants down unceremoniously, not caring right now about stupid young you and stupid young Yoongi, gripping his underwear and dragging them down, his hard cock springing up, bigger than you remembered, thicker, red tip twitching, still wanting it just as bad, not looking at his face and closing your mouth in on it, gripping his hips and pulling him closer for better leverage. His scent and moan encompassed you, your eyes shutting as your tongue circled around his hot length, swallowing it up, oh so good, so good, better than anyone else’s because it was the one you tried to forget, entranced by the way Yoongi’s cock slid down your throat and filled your mouth, hearing his ecstasy from your touch, gasps of pleasure as you began to bob your head up and down, tongue going from the bottom of the head, down the quivering veins, all the way to the base, nudging his balls with the tip of your tongue, a skill you learned from many, many blowjobs.

You opened your eyes and you knew your guilt was in them. Yoongi could see it with every mouthful of his cock disappearing into your lips, his eyes half-lidded and pupils dilated, empathizing.

“Yeah, so what if we’ve fucked other people?” he grunted, rolling his hips into your face and making you growl in your chest. “I could care less.”

Yeah, you could, and me too.

Faster and tighter, suffocating him with your mouth, hands flat on the counter, blowing him at the same spot you were eating a fucking salad two hours ago before Taehyung’s arrival and contemplating tongue techniques, back when your iceberg of uncaring was still intact but now it was part of the ocean of emotions once more, watching Yoongi unravel, rubbing his fists into the granite, crying out and arching his back, black hair fanning out with every harsh swallow and throat clench around the head, leaking pre-cum into your throat and throbbing into the roof of your mouth.

“F-Fuck me…”

He hissed out your name and snapped his chin to his chest, thrusting into your mouth, exploding, salty thickness coating your tongue and down your tight throat, you gulping it down with a choked gasp, his taste a part of you now after all this time, an edge of bitterness that you welcomed, who knew what the fuck he was eating before this, but you didn’t care, didn’t care, you had Yoongi’s cock in your mouth and every second was worth it.

Your tongue coated the head, collecting the dribbling cum and you swallowed that too, glaring at him. Lowering down once more, swallowing him to the base once again, him sucking in a pained breath at the sensitivity because your throat was unforgiving, constricting him as forcefully as you could, tongue sliding up, teasing right under the head, the thin skin that make Yoongi squirm and hiss under you, spreading the slit with the tip of your tongue. Yoongi slapped his palms onto the counter, clenching his jaw to avoid screaming.

But he didn’t stop you.

He simply watched you with pained eyes, letting you do whatever you wanted, thrashing under your merciless mouth, rutting the sensitive head against the roof of your mouth roughly, his body thrashing to try to get away, but still Yoongi said nothing, thin moans escaping his closed lips, even twisting his hips back and rocking them into your face to let you abuse him more, manhandling him to your heart’s content. You kept going, long agonizing minutes, strongly sucking the head, shoving it all the way to the back of your throat, teasing it with your tongue, swirling around and around, pressure, roughness, tightness, aggravating the sensitive skin until you saw Yoongi on the verge of tears.

He still didn’t stop you.

You retreated, your lips now only around the head, tongue ghosting over the pulsating, inflamed tip, drenching it with saliva.

“You deserved that,” you muttered.

“I deserve a lot of things,” Yoongi grunted, finally relaxing his shoulders and laying flat against the counter, panting hard, cheeks still flushed, staring at the ceiling.

Neither of you were saying sorry.

You gave him one last painful suck and he swore under his breath, but didn’t say anything else, biting his lip hard as you popped your mouth off his cock. For a few moments, there was nothing but oppressive, irate panting. Yoongi’s dick was still hard and sticking straight up, he himself spread out on your kitchen counter like a fucking buffet, still wearing his shirt and half-wearing his jeans. You were shirtless, tits out, gray sweatpants slung low on your hips.

“When are you going back?”

Yoongi was still staring at the ceiling.

“Don’t know.”

“Liar.”

Dark eyes flickered down.

“If you asked me five minutes ago, the answer would have been in two weeks.”

Your eyes narrowed, boring into his. “How many blowjobs have you gotten overseas, huh? One hundred? Five hundred?” Frustration, grief, vehemence, all rolled into one, turning your voice into ice, sheets of frozen water churning and reforming, snapping together one by one with each word, your hands coming up and digging your nails into his thighs, racking them down, bright red scratches in your wake. “How many people have you fucked? Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Yoongi?”

He gritted his teeth, screwing his eyes shut, fingers curling onto fists at the pain.

“I really thought you didn’t care,” was his distressed hiss.

You stopped; nails sunk into his pale skin, creating dark crescents with how hard you were pressing.

“I thought you would hate me forever.”

Your hands left his thighs, glaring scarlet lines of your pain on his skin now.

“And I thought it would get better, but it didn’t.”

His fingers uncoiled, one by one. Long, deft digits, practiced, trained, beautiful, crescents of pink from his own nails in his palm. Eyes opening, lash by lash, lifting, dark, pained, regretful, drifting down to you and his exposed, still-hard cock, just there, ignored, surrounded by scratch marks.

“I was mad that you didn’t try to contact me,” Yoongi mumbled. “And madder at myself for not trying to contact you.”

Ice cracking, melting off, crashing back down into the vast ocean of emotion.

You reached into your pocket.

Your name, tumbling from his lips, his eyes shifting to you.

“In between countless partings, the one I always remembered was you.”

You climbed onto the counter, sweatpants and underwear on the floor. Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock, so stunned that he couldn’t stop staring at you, knees, thighs, crotch – clean, you were always clean-shaven, but he didn’t know that, a habit you developed without him and now you felt weird with hair down there – and so he could see everything, wet lips glistening. Up to your waist, a pattern of small moles above your bellybutton that high-school Yoongi had danced his fingers over.

Saying, “My Milky Way, my galaxy.”

This was after you called him an insensitive bastard and he accused you of losing your virginity to some athletic jock kid, as if high-school you would ever have a chance with someone like that.

Up your tits, your collarbones, your face.

Determined.

Yoongi jumped, realizing you had wrapped your hand around his cock and pumped it a few times before rolling down the condom, angling your pussy above the purple-red head. He made eye contact with you.

“I can’t go back if you do this,” he whispered.

“Boo-fucking-hoo, shut your trap.”

You sank down and he clamped his jaw shut, veins on his neck popping out in strain as Yoongi tried not to cry, your previous ministrations amplifying the sudden hot, wet pleasure that overwhelmed him, you sighing in bliss as he filled you, nicer than before, better because you knew what to do now, relaxing your muscles before pulsing around him, his eyelids fluttering, whines in his throat, palms flat on the granite, such beautiful hands that you reached down and put them on your thighs, wanting him to touch you.

Dark brown eyes shaking, pupils dilated, fingernails digging into your skin.

“Isn’t that what you do? Use your hands all day?” you taunted.

He gripped your thighs tight, apology flashing across his features.

“You better not cum before I do,” you snapped, rocking your hips a little.

Yoongi sucked in a breath. “I’ll try.”

You leaned forward, one hand on the counter, the other closing in on his black hair. Twisting the black locks in your fingers, gripping so hard your knuckles were white, but you weren’t pulling on his hair, only holding it, but your eyes told him everything.

“You fucking owe me.”

Him staring into your blazing eyes.

“I owe you for the rest of my life.”

You rolled your hips into his crotch, hard, smacking your ass down on his balls and he whimpered, jerking his head to the side and pulling his own hair, whimper turning into a wounded gasp.

“Shut the fuck up. We both know you deserved that scholarship, you talented asshole.”

You began your pace, bruising and intense from the start, unforgiving, but you had already forgiven him, years ago, by yourself with no one else to know, now your hand in his hair with Yoongi writhing under you, causing his own pain flaring across his scalp because your grip was so tight, his hands on your thighs, his length sliding out and then shoved back in. You could feel him getting harder, swelling more, the sensation unbearable so he kept igniting the pain to prevent himself from orgasm. You made sure to let the maximum amount of your skin to hit him – clit on his crotch, pussy enveloped around his cock, the tip hitting your deepest, most pleasurable spot, ass smacking against his balls – so that even you moaned, shivers of ecstasy layering on top of each other, climbing notes of a song from long ago.

Now continuing.

From that night at your parents’ house that bedroom of painful and lovely memories, his hands on your wrists, telling you that he could go slow until you felt better, how could he not know? Yoongi just assumed it was because you weren’t aroused since you were so angry at him, and you never accused him of having any experience before you, and to be honest you didn’t give a shit; if that was society’s fault or your feelings for him, you didn’t know. It all seemed so foolish back then, stupid, why were you so attached to a high-school boy when there were thousands of other men and women out there, and you tried, you fucked them, but in the end.

In the end, it wasn’t the roars of pleasure or multiple orgasms or big dicks or sweet pussy that made you feel the same as you felt when you looked down at Yoongi, eyes rolling back, biting his lip so hard the skin was white, black hair bunched around your fingers, his fucking green t-shirt still on but you could tell every muscle was tensed and he was barely breathing, anything to prevent himself from orgasm, knuckles white on your thighs, clutching them so hard they would surely leave bruises, but you didn’t care.

Yoongi was a genius. He could play the piano like no one else.

Someone could be technically better, someone could be more experienced, someone could be more nuanced, but no one felt music like Yoongi felt music, no one loved piano like how Yoongi loved piano.

He deserved every cent, every experience, every year he spent overseas.

He seemed to feel your gaze on him and his eyes found yours, black pupils nearly overtaking the irises, sweating so bad that his t-shirt was soaking down the front.

“Hold on,” you breathed. “Hold on for me, Yoongi.”

He whined pathetically.

Did he love you as much as he loved piano or was it the soju talking?

Who are you kidding?

Yoongi would never love you as much as the piano.

You set your jaw and leaned down a little more, bending his cock the tiniest bit, more leverage to go harder, rougher, rolling your spine down, smack! Onto his crotch, Yoongi’s mouth flying open and crying out your name in shock, your knees screaming on the harsh granite but you didn’t care, fucking Yoongi for all you were worth, using every muscle and every technique you knew to apply as much pressure as you could, choking his dick. Yoongi’s hands jolted off your thighs, hitting your open thermos on the counter, both of your forgetting it was there this whole time, the double-walled, stainless steel, mint thermos.

It toppled and spewed warm water all over your thighs, your joined crotches, part of his shirt, probably leaking down his ass and onto the counter.

You yelped at the sudden unexpected wet warmth. Yoongi’s hips jerked up, wild moan escaping his lips and your pussy spasmed, orgasm plummeting into you, a sudden avalanche that made your eyes roll back and a guttural groan vibrate your chest, both hands inadvertently clasping and yanking on Yoongi’s hair, and he lost it, whining your name as he came, hard cock lurching and convulsing against your walls, shooting his load into the condom, his cries extending to wanton, pained moans. It took everything in you to at least loosen your fingers, spreading them on his scalp and holding his head as gently as you could, whole body shuddering, even your jaw, not able to say his name properly because your teeth were clattering uncomfortably against each other.

You closed your eyes.

Listening to Yoongi’s strained breathing. Hearing pain, sadness, his raspy voice from long ago, words in the seconds before you feel asleep in his arms from being worn out from anger and losing your virginity. All this time, wanting to believe it was silence, wanting to believe he said nothing, letting yourself believe in your lie to fuel your rage.

“I am sorry.”

You opened your eyes, lowering your chin. Yoongi’s dark orbs, glassy and spent, trying to focus on your face. His hand came up, still wet with the spilled water, and you realized you had pitched forward a little from the force of your orgasm.

His fingers danced on the small mole pattern above your bellybutton.

“My Milky Way. My galaxy,” he whispered softly.

Lovingly.

Guilt all over his face.

“I have to go back. I have performances, opportunities.”

You leaned down. “Stop lying, Yoongi.” Eyes locked with his and a smile. “You want to go back. Because you are an ambitious, talented asshole.”

You knew you were right. You could see it in his eyes, the quickness as he looked away, not wanting to face you. You slumped down, knees giving out, Yoongi’s cock half-buried in you, slowly softening, but it didn’t matter. You put your full weight on him, fitting your chin on his shoulder, not quite looking at his face, nose far too close to your fucking kitchen counter. Yoongi grunted uncomfortably, but didn’t tell you to get off. There was water everywhere and the mint thermos was on the tile floor and somehow neither of you had noticed. It must have made a very loud sound.

“I hate my job anyway. Might as well run away to a different continent for some stupid boy.”

“I can’t ask you to come with me.”

“I’m not asking.”

He chuckled.

“You really have changed.”

“Sucks for you.”

You felt his arms wrap around your waist.

“Guess so.”

-

“Why was Taehyung here anyway?”

“I was supposed to show him how to eat pussy.”

Yoongi blinked at you, holding a damp rag. Both of you were kneeling on the floor, naked, attempting to sop up the mess. “How?”

“He was going to practice on me.”

“I can give a live demonstration instead,” Yoongi growled, an edge possessive.

“Yeah, no, I think my night is booked. Emergency appointment.”

You picked up your kitchen towels and wrung them out in your sink, looking down at him, raising your eyebrow. Yoongi’s hair was messy and curled, wet from sweat and water. He gazed up at you. You saw him shiver. You kept your expression neutral despite your heartbeat racing.

“Have some catching up to do.”

--

masterpost

[featherymalignancy]

How About a Hug, Hm? REMIX

So a few days ago I got this ask about my Elriel one-shot “How About A Hug?” because I messed up the formatting and I you basically have to to read it as a reblog. I also was really unsatisfied with the end result.

So, I did the most Feathery™️ thing every and REWROTE THE WHOLE GODDAMN THING.

Please enjoy, and know that I will go back and tag people/clean up formatting tomorrow. Right now I just need to post and 😴

——————————————————

Elain Archeron was running late.

Granted, it was only by seven minutes, which—in many social circles—was still considered well within the accepted boundaries of punctuality.

The problem was that a) being late made Elain anxious, and b) there was absolutely nothing polite about Nesta Archeron when she was made to wait, even by her own kin.

Yet another reason it had been critical that Elain arrive on time: Nesta was already likely to be somewhat hacked off when she saw what Elain was wearing tonight, and Elain had hoped to avoid any further dramatics on her elder sister’s part.

She spent half the cab ride downtown trying to convince herself that it was fine that she’d borrowed something out of Nesta’s closet (even if it had been without permission) and that she hadn’t had a choice; she simply didn’t own anything appropriate for dinner at a four-star restaurant. However, by the time the cab slithered under Trump Tower’s unsavory shadow and into Hell’s Kitchen, she’d given up pretending.

The truth was she had half a dozen cocktail dresses that would have been perfectly suitable for dinner in the West Village, even if the place they were going was one of the nicest sushi restaurants in the city. No, Elain had raided Nesta’s closet for a far more embarrassing reason: she’d been in search of a dress she hoped might finally win her Azriel’s attention.

She wasn’t proud of the absurd crush she had on the guy, but it really couldn’t be helped. He was gorgeous, and smart, and darkly funny when he wanted to be, and she’d been secretly mooning over him since they’d met through Feyre’s fiancée three years ago. God, what she wouldn’t give to have him return even a fraction of her feelings.

Apparently not her dignity, Elain thought with a glance down at her neckline.

The worst part was that Azriel seemed oblivious to her interest in him. He was always polite to her, always made a point to talk to her when he caught her hiding out on the balcony during one of Feyre and Rhys’s crazy parties or sit next to her at their big family dinners, but he’d never once given her any indication that he was in any way that he reciprocated her feelings, which should have been reason enough for Elain to pack it in and stop harassing him.

And that was to say nothing of Mor.

Mor was the friend who’d first introduced Feyre and Rhys, and from what Elain could gather, she and Azriel had a long and complicated history. It didn’t seem to matter that Mor had been dating the same girl for over a year now. When she was in the room, Az’s eyes were always on her. Not that Elain blamed him—Mor was gorgeous in a way girls like her could only dream of being. Still, there was no denying the sting of watching the guy you were interested in pine over someone else.

Given all this, Elain wasn’t really sure why she’d gone to such lengths to dress up for this dinner. Mor would surely be there wearing something incredible and couture, thereby rendering everyone else invisible to Azriel. Still, Elain was a hopeless optimist, and she’d stubbornly sold herself on the idea that if she found the perfect dress, she could finally convince Azriel that she was a woman worthy of affection, rather than Nesta’s bookish, boring little sister.

She had to admit, there was nothing bookish about her tonight. The dress was tighter on her that it was her waifish sister, and dear god it deserved a Medal of Honor for the way it managed to keep her boobs looking so perky even without a bra. She didn’t suppose Nesta would be too happy about that bit, either, so she could only hope her sister was in a good mood by the time Elain arrived.

Just then Elain’s phone buzzed, and she looked down at it and groaned. It was from Nesta.

Where the 🤬 are you?

Running late, Elain quickly typed back. Is everyone waiting?

She watched the gray ellipsis pulse at Nesta responded.

Feyre and Rhys aren’t even fucking here yet. But hurry up, Cash is already driving me insane.

Elain rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure who Nesta thought she was fooling when she and Elain shared a bedroom wall. Nesta and Cassian, Rhys’s other best friend, ended up banging almost every time they saw each other, which—since Rhys and Feyre had gotten engaged four months ago—was fairly frequently. In fact, Cash was at their apartment making Nesta scream so often that Elain had been forced to invest in earplugs and a sound machine. From Elain’s perspective, it seemed rather pointless of Nesta to pretend she wasn’t completely hot of a guy she called “Daddy” in bed.

Elain shuddered at the thought, hoping that Nesta would end up going to Cash and Az’s loft in Williamsburg tonight instead. Though, she realized glumly, they only ever seemed to go there when Azriel was out, and the only person who seemed able to keep Azriel out later than Cash was Mor. That meant Elain’s options were either to pop an Ambien and hope for the best, or stay out and watch Az make moon eyes at Mor all night. Neither one was particularly appearing.

Elain ignored Nesta’s text as the car pulled up outside the restaurant and she wiggled out, smoothing the back of her tight dress before giving her curls what she hoped was an artful tousle before slipping inside.

Elain’s heart felt into her stomach as she took in the elegant but understated interior of the famed Sushi Nakazawa. Given the prices, she’d assumed the place would be all black granite and swanky chandeliers—the kind of place cleavage like hers wouldn’t seem out of place. Instead the place was elegantly spare and distressingly well-lit. God, she was such a prize idiot.

Unfortunately, she was also out of time, because a quick survey of the interior found that her group was already gathered at the bar, Mor, Feyre, and Rhys having showed up in the interim between Nesta’s text and Elain’s arrival.

Elain’s eyes went to Mor first, who stunned in a cardinal red lace and net sheath. It clung to her frame like it had been made for her, and despite a latent jealous she couldn’t quite contain, she was relieved to find that she at least wouldn’t look overdressed.

Elain’s stomach only wended in a tighter knot when Mor’s eyes fell on her and lit up, a reminder that not only was Mor prettier, she was also an infinitely better person than Elain.

“There she is!” Mor beamed, coming forward and hugging Elain. “I love that dress, Ellie!”

Elain braced herself for Nesta’s inevitably remark, but it was actually Cash who reacted first.

He’d opened his mouth to comment seemingly before he’d actually looked at Elain, because the second he realized what exactly she was wearing, his eyes they snapped the ceiling, as if looking at her chest directly might turn him to stone.

“Whoa, El, all dressed up tonight!”

Nesta, wholly unmoved by his attempted chivalry, elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t be vulgar Cassian!” She snarled before narrowing her eyes. “And that’s mine!”

Cash smirked, seeming more at ease now that Nesta was his target.

“I knew I’d seen that bef—ow! Goddamnit woman, what was that for?”

He scowled down at the dangerous stiletto Nesta had just jammed into his toe box.

“Sorry,” she cast over her shoulder, not deigning to look at him. “Did I accidentally step on your foot?”

“I’m an adult,” Elain interjected, cheeks burning as she faced her sister down. “Stop acting like I’ve fourteen and stuffing my bra.”

“They’re just boobs, Nes,” Rhys added, arm slung over Feyre’s shoulder. “Relax.”

“Watch it,” Nesta warned him, but Feyre only laughed.

“I agree!” She said, turning to smile at Elain. “And I think they look amazing.”

“If I’d have known they were going to be such a topic of conversation,” Elain mumbled, grateful Azriel wasn’t here to witness this circus. “I would have worn something else.”

“No, I’m with Feyre,” Mor said, wicked grin forming. “Breasts that nice deserve to be shown off.”

Elain wasn’t so humble that she didn’t feel herself preening a bit at that comment, even if she was still flustered by the prolonged attention. Either way, she was grateful when Cash interrupted with a somewhat sheepish laugh.

“Teenage me would be furious if he heard me say this, but can we please stop talking about boobs?”

“Elain’s boobs or just any boobs?” Feyre said with a smirk.

However, before Elain could admonish her for it, Feyre was crushing her into a hug.

“Hey you,” she said, wrapping her arms and Elain’s neck and whispering in her ear, “let me and Rhys know if you wanna stay at our place tonight; Cash already grabbed Nesta’s ass twice when she thought we weren’t looking.”

Feyre indicated the mirror behind the bar with her eyes as they pulled away, and sure enough, Elain watched Cash’s hand as it drew lazy, dangerous circles just above the swell of Nesta’s well-formed behind.

Elain groaned, hugging Rhys now as well. God , her sister was such a hypocrite sometimes.

Ignoring a lingering twinge of annoyance, Elain forced herself to glance in false realization before casually asking, “So where’s the Birthday Boy?”

“He was on his phone out back,” Rhys said, before raising a hand in greeting to someone over Elain’s shoulder. “There he is.”

Elain tried not to look to eager as she turned and drank in all six feet four inches of perfection that was Azriel Macar. He was dressed all in black, from his prada boots to the soft, expensive t-shirt fitted enough to show off his toned physique. Elain honestly had to fight not to swoon as he ran an effortless hand through his glossy sable hair, the longer pomaded pieces on top stand up for a second before falling into an artful tousle.

“Hey Ellie,” he said, gaze on her and gone so quickly that he never even had time to notice her much-discussed cleavage. Instead, his eyes flicked to Mor and held for a long, meaningful beat before he turned back to Elain and added politely, “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” she chirped, trying to ignore the fact that he was coming closer, and that in another second she’d be able to smell that divine Givenchy cologne he always wore. “Of course!“

She bent her head, pretending to be fixing the clasp on her bracelet as his scent hit her and she had to bite back a groan. Sweet Jesus, he smelled good. When she looked up again, everyone else was shuffling to their table and Azriel was lingering, a soft smile threatening to the reveal the absolutely devastating dimples in both his cheeks.

“Do I get a hug?” He asked. “It is my birthday after all.”

He extended his arms, and she gave a nervous laugh, accepting the gesture by stringing her arms around his neck.

“Of course,” she repeated stupidly, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he embraced her. “Happy Birthday.”

At this he squeezed her a little tighter and she fought off genuine giddiness.

It was a friendly gesture, she warned herself, and it ended the minute Mor called, “Az, come sit by me.”

Elain cleared her throat as he pulled away, turning to where Mor was still beckoning. However, before Elain could get too flustered, he turned back to her.

“Shall we?” he said, indicating Elain go ahead of him. To her delight, they reached the table to find that the only two seats left were next to each other. She tried not to give her eagerness too much leash as he pulled out her chair for her before sinking into the one between she and Mor. Mor leaned over to give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he flushed.

“Where’s Emmy tonight?” Feyre asked as Mor tried to wipe the lipstick from Az’s copper skin and he battered her away, like child trying to fend off an over-bearing mother.

“She’s sick, poor little thing,” Mor said, giving a tiny pout. “She hasn’t been able to get out of bed in days.”

Elain didn’t bother to her disappointment. Emerie had been one of Nesta’s best since they’d met in college almost ten years ago, and she not only was she like family to the Archerons, she also happened to be the only person in the group who knew about Elain’s crush. Elain had sworn her to secrecy at the time, and though it would have been reasonable to assume that once Emmy knew, Mor would know, Elain appreciated that she could trust Emerie to keep her secret.

Elain felt Emerie’s absence keenly and Nesta and Cash began bantering back and forth at lightning speed. Emerie was a master at slowing the tempo of Nesta’s quick wit, making it easier for Elain in particular to feel she could keep up.

More selfishly, Elain also missed Emerie’s ability to keep Mor distracted. When Emmy was around, she was all Mor could focus on. However, in her absence Mor’s attention had reverted almost completely to Az, a fact he didn’t seemed to mind a single bit, if his growing smiles were any indication.

Still, he seemed to be going out of his way to make sure Elain didn’t get lost in the chaos of conversation surging around them, even if he never looked at her for more than a moment or two before his eyes flicked back to Mor, studying her dark brown eyes and crimson lips.

After they placed their drink orders and the waiter came over to begin explaining the omakase menu, Elain wondered if she had time to dodge under the table to throw on some lipstick of her own. Assuring herself everyone was suitably distracted she bent down, hastily uncapping the tube before looking up just in time to see Nesta brush a very deliberate hand between Cassian’s splayed quads.

Elain jerked back, banging her head on the table.

“Fuck!” she swore quietly, straightening and rubbing her head.

Nesta shot her an alarmed look across the table and Elain flushed.

“All you alright?” Azriel asked, and she tried not to bleat in excited panic as his fingers brushed the back of her head. “What happened?”

“I—dropped something,” she fumbled, cursing her sister for being such a salacious wench.

Wasn’t it enough that she and Cash were already going to keep her up all night? Did she really have to make Elain look silly in front of Azriel, too?

“Does it hurt?” Azriel said, still studying her head before letting his eyes go to the server. “Do you need ice?”

“No, no,” Elain said hurriedly, trying to regain her composure. “I’m fine.”

“Did you at least find whatever you were looking for?” Mor asked, and Elain’s flush deepened.

“And then some,” she grumbled to herself, and Cassian gave a quiet but unmistakable laugh before letting out a surprised exhale. Elain had a fairly good idea what Nesta was squeezing to shut him up.

“Should we order, then?” Mor asked, hand falling onto Azriel’s arm. “Any particular requests, Birthday Boy?”

“He’s thirty now,” Rhys pointed out. “I think that makes him a Birthday Man .”

“Birthday Old Man,” Cassian amended. “Don’t worry champ, I’ve already put some viagra in your bathroom.”

“You’re not supposed to share your prescriptions, Cash,” Azriel said with mirth, eyes sparkling even as his face remained neutral. “And besides, I would feel dead back if you needed one tonight and couldn’t find them.”

“Checkmate,” Mor purred as Cash flipped her off.

Beside Azriel, Elain was fighting not to blush again. Cash’s comment, however sophomoric and lewd, had her imagining what Azriel was like in bed. She wondered for a moment if Mor knew before dismissing the thought and the twinge it induced.

“Let’s put this poor souls out of his misery and order,” Feyre said, smiling at the server where he still waited patiently. “Maybe if Cash’s mouth is full, he’ll stop talking.”

Cassian grinned, and, after placing their requests for the chef’s tasting menu, they all settled into an easy conversation. Cash and Rhys regaled them with stories of Azriel at various ages, from the gawky child he’d been when they’d first met him to the shy teenager who’d been terrified of girls.

“Let him be,” Mor said, touching her friend’s shoulder. “He was sweet in high school!”

Rhys laughed.

“It took him a year to pluck up the courage to say three words to you,” he pointed out.

“And they were ‘here’s a pen’ in response to you asking him the time. Nice work, Shakespeare,” Cash said, attempting to muss Azriel’s perfectly styled hair before being batted away.

“I can’t imagine Az ever being awkward,” Elain blurted. “I bet girls thought he was mysterious and cool.“

“See?” Azriel said, gesturing to Elain. “This is why I sat over here.”

“Oh please ,” Rhys said, bubbling his lips. “Ellie’s just being polite. If you two had known each other in high school, we all know how to would’ve gone: you’d have had an obscene crush on her and your dreams of true love would have been dashed after she politely signed your yearbook ‘have a good summer, Adrian’, leaving you heartbroken and alone.”

Azriel gave Elain a soft smile, and her heart burst open as thousands of butterflies flitted out of it.

“I hate to say it, but he’s probably right,” he told her. “I assume high school Elain was very popular.”

“She was,” Feyre said. “Eight different guys asked her to prom.”

“I’m not surprised,” Az said, and Elain made a great show out of drinking out of her masu to avoid having to answer.

She was relieved when the food began arriving to distract everyone, if only to save her the temptation of telling Azriel that there was no universe in which she wouldn’t have been into him, high schoolers or no.

Instead discussion turned to the Feyre and Rhys’s wedding as they ate, and as final plates were being cleared, Cash took the opportunity to once again mocked Azriel for the fact the latter had lost the rock-paper-scissors competition to be Rhys’s best man.

“I lost on purpose,” he told Elain quietly, taking a sip of the Yamasaki Single Malt he’d ordered after dinner.

“Why?” she laughed, following his gaze across the table to where Cash and Nesta were now bickering about whether Rhys’s stag night in Vegas would be better than Feyre’s hen do in Napa.

“Because Rhys told me that you’d convinced Feyre to pick Nesta as her maid of honor, and no offense, but your sister terrifies me. I’d much rather be with you.”

She laughed, biting her lip. It felt so terribly like they were flirting, but she couldn’t decide if it was her imagination or not.

“She terrifies everyone,” Elain said. “And I have a feeling this won’t our last trip down the aisle together.”

Azriel only quirked a bemused brow at this, which had Elain flushing scarlet.

“Not like that! She laughed, fumbling to pretend the idea of them being together was absurd rather than her heart’s desire. "I meant for Cash and Nesta’s wedding. Don’t tell me those two aren’t going to end up together.”

“We’ll have to work out a custody agreement when they finally get over themselves and start dating properly,” he agreed. “I’m spending a fortune on earplugs.”

She laughed, and he seemed warmed by the gesture, because he flashed a modest—albeit dimpled—smile being turning back to the larger conversation.

After dinner they’d gone a cocktail bar, then an Irish pub, and finally—much to Azriel’s chagrin—a karaoke bar. Rhys and Cash spend the majority of the evening trying to wrestle Azriel on stage while Mor and Feyre sang duets to Beyoncé and Spice Girls.

Elain was content enough to sit back and simply observe the scene as it unfolded around her. It was hard to contain her giddy, dreadful anticipation when Mor left around one to check on Emerie and Azriel—besides bidding her farewell with a soft kiss on the cheek—didn’t move a muscle.

Less than an hour later, Cash and Nesta both disappeared about an hour after without so much as a goodbye. Elain groaned, hoping they’d be asleep by the time she got home.

She’d have to rally if she wanted to manage it; they would be at it for hours yet.

By three the place was clearing out, and besides them, only a few tables of marathon drinkers and a girl on stage performing a beautiful rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” remained.

“We’re gonna go,” Rhys said, arm slung around a rather drunk, giggling Feyre. “Ellie, do you want to come with us?”

Elain glanced at Azriel, who’s glass still had two fingers of whiskey in it. If she wanted a chance to be alone with him, this was it.

“I think I’ve got one more in me,” she said, smiling.

“If you mean drink, I’m in,” Azriel said.

“Oh c’mon, brother,” Rhys goaded. “Just one song. I wouldn’t even film it….much.”

“Do Beyoncé!” Feyre chimed in, and Azriel shook his head.

“You know I’d play in traffic before I ever sang karaoke,” Azriel said mildly, making Feyre laugh. "Thanks for coming.”

He rose, embracing Rhys and pressing a kiss on Feyre’s head.

“C’mon, my little drunkard,” Rhys told her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let’s have sex when we get home,” Feyre said, her attempted whisper fully audible. Rhys pretended smack his forehead with his palm and a mimed, “ Oh brother ”, to Azriel and Elain before coax a still-singing Feyre outside.

Azriel chuckled before draining the last of his drink and rising. Elain pretended not to notice the way his well-tailored jeans fit his lean legs and…other parts of his anatomy as he adjusted his belt buckle and glanced down at her.

“Bud Light?” he asked, and she nodded, bobbing to her feet as well.

If she wanted a way to get closer to him that was more elegant than her increasing urge to crawl across the table and into his lap, this was certainly it.

“I’ll come with you.”

He flashed her a modest smile before indicating she lead the way. He ordered and waved off Elain’s attempt to pay before leaning on the bar to avoid towering over her. The gesture brought them nearly eye-to-eye, and Elain had to actively fight not to let hers roll back in pleasure at the bergamot and amyris wood notes in his sinful cologne. Up close Elain could see how much green he had in his hazel irises, and she wanted to tip into them and swim until she drowned.

“Did you have fun?” she said, desperate to get the conversation flowing again, and he smiled, making her stomach flop.

“I did, yeah,” he said, glancing around the bar in bemusement, as if still wondering how he’d ended up there. “Thank you for coming.”

Elain shrugged, grinning.

“You say that like you didn’t think I’d show,” she said, resting a cheek in her hand. She knew by now her expression was not her less than a swoon, though she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Hadn’t been this been her plan all along? Finally get Az’s attention long enough to tell him how she felt? Now was the best chance she’d probably ever get.

“No, I figured would,” Az said, interrupting her reverie. “Or hoped you would, whatever.”

Was that—

Did that mean what she thought it did?

Normally she would have chalked it up to wishful thinking, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck, dimples appearing as he huffed what almost sound like a sheepish laugh, had hope igniting in her chest.

“What does that mean?” she pressed, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

For the first time all night, he didn’t look away. Instead, his eyes skated back and forth across her face, as if she were a riddle he only had seconds to memorize. She watched, transfixed, as he wet his plush lower lip with his tongue before biting it almost self-consciously.

“It means I’m glad you came,” he admitted. “And that you didn’t go home with your sister and Rhys.”

It wasn’t the confirmation she’d been hoping for, and the ambiguity of the statement had her conviction waning. That could just as easily have been mean platonically, and if she pushed him and ruined things between them by making it awkward—

“Of course I’d be here for your birthday,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “That’s what friends are for.”

She couldn’t help the way her voice got stuck on the word, not when her throat suddenly began to clog with tears.

She had to get out of here, right now. Before she started crying and made things worse. She made to retract her hand but Azriel grabbed it, grip gentle but intent.

“El, don’t go,” he said, and she was surprised at the frank discontent in his normally-impassive expression.

She waited for him to explain himself before instead he let out another strained laugh, grip on her wrist easing. However, he didn’t let go entirely, choosing to intertwine their fingers instead.

Holding hands.

She and Az were holding hands.

And he—

She glanced back up to find he was studying her again, his face a mixture of terror and delight. When she gave his hand a soft squeeze, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Jesus, I am bad at this,” he said, reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, but she thought his gaze flicked down to her lips as he continued to study her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Bad at what?” She asked, though she’d begun to suspect she knew exactly what, even if it seemed too good to be true.

“At least my timeline is improving,” he breathed instead. “And I haven’t offered you a pen you didn’t ask for yet.”

Hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation, she let her finger trail down to trace the circular buckle of his Gucci before glancing back up at him and purring, “Do you have a pen?”

He smirked before raising his right wrist and glancing at his watch face over her shoulder.

“It’s….3:17 am,” he said, smile spreading as she gave a low sound of approval and flicked her gaze to his lips.

“Smooth,” she said, and tried not to lose her mind as he let his raised hand fall to the back of her neck and bent to kiss her.

He had almost girlishly full lips, and they opened for her as they settled into the kiss. Immediately his hand tangled in her hair so he could alter her head position slightly and get a proper taste of her. She groaned into his mouth he pulled at her lower lip with his teeth. He tasted like oranges and the expensive Japanese whiskey he’d been drinking all night, and pleasure tightened in her low belly as his tongue brushed hers. Her brought his free hand up to cradle her face, and in response she pushed closer to run her hands underneath of his shirt and down the silken skin of his back.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a heated half-laugh, nose brushing her cheek as he bowed into her touch. “You’re killing me, woman.”

She only smirked, feeling more confident now that she had before. She could hardly believe this was happening, but she was too excited about it to fully care.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, and he bit his lip, as if restraining himself from kissing her again.

“Like to another bar?” he asked, dazed as he continued to stare at her lips.

“Like to my bed,” she said boldly. “Or yours, depending on where Cassian and Nesta ended up.”

He didn’t speak immediately, just studied her, and she panicked.

“I mean, only if you—I’m sorry, should I not have—?“

He only kissed her again in response, more gently this time.

“Please stop apologizing,” he said, kissing her jaw now before seeming to realize something and pulling back, brows synced.

“I—Jesus, do you seriously not know?”

She felt a bit sheepish at his incredulous tone and fought not to stiffen.

“Know what?”

He laughed softly, though their was a edge of self-deprecation in it that kept the gesture from seeming conscending.

“I really am the worst at this.”

“At what?”

“El, I’ll crazy about you. I have been crazy about you since we met.”

“You have?” she blurted, horror fading into genuine—if elated—confusion.

He laughed.

“Did you think it was coincidence that you and I are always sitting next to each other at dinner? That I always find you at Rhys’s dumb parties?”

“I—“ she began, still trying to decide if this was a dream or not. “What about Mor, though?”

“Mor?” he repeated, confused now, too. “What about her?”

“I thought you and she—“

He leaned in to brush his nose against hers, and she blushed at the innocent affection in the gesture.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I did have a thing for her in high school, but I got over it after she and Cash slept together at prom. We’re just friends, I swear.”

“But she’s always touching you, and every time I see you together you can’t stop looking at her.”

At this he laughed, his smile so genuine and open she almost didn’t recognize him.

“She’s always been touchy-feely,” he said. “She grew up in Madrid, and people are just more affectionate there, I guess. And I only watch her when you’re around because she called me out for having an absurd crush on you, and I was afraid she was going to get drunk and blow my cover by telling you.”

Elain shook her head, still not quite believing what she was hearing. Reading her expression, he bent to kiss her softly.

“What guy wouldn’t be crazy about you?” he breathed. “You’re incredible.”

This seemed to break the spell, and she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for another steamy kiss.

“Text Cash,” she said a little breathlessly when they broke away. “I don’t want an audience.”

She couldn’t felt but feeling smug when he almost dropped his phone at those words. It felt good to know that she wasn’t the only one affected by all this.

“Cash and Nesta are at the lof—“ Az began after a minute, but Elain cut him off with a kiss.

H rose, pulling her against him as his tongue brushed the roof of her mouth.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said as she kissed his neck and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, earning a low groan. “You’ve been drinking.”

She grabbed his chin so he would look at her.

“Not that much,” she said, and it was true. “And besides, I wanted this way before tonight.“

“Good,” he breathed, pressing a hand to her low back to bring her close to him. “Because so have I.”

Though they spent the majority of the ride up town and the elevator up to her apartment making out, something seemed to shift as Elain’s door clicked shut behind him, as if the gravity of what they were about to do had finally caught up to them.

Reluctantly Az peeled his lips from where they’d been glued to her neck as he took a small step back, as if to give her space.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, feeling embarrassed for how much she still wanted him even now that he seemed to have come to his senses.

“Maybe we should—” he broke off, looking somewhat guilty. “Hold off.”

She nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay again.

“Are you worried this could mess things up in the group? Because I understand—“

“No,” he said hurriedly, coming forward again, as if he could no longer stand to be away. “Not at all. I just—you’re special, El. You deserve to be taken out and spoiled.”

“Az, you just took us to a $1,800 dinner! Or did you think I didn’t see you pulling our server aside?”

Azriel opened his mouth, and she covered it with a finger.

“You don’t need to earn my affection. It’s yours already, free of charge.”

“I’ve just been—I waited so long to make my move and I’m terrified of fucking it up,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Why, are you bad at sex?”

Azriel laughed, seemed to relax at her teasing.

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he breathed again her lips, kissing her deeply again.

She gently bit his lower lip in response.

“Then I’d say you’ve gotten nothing to worry about,” she said, kissing him a third time.

She moaned softly when drove his fingers into her hair, hips canting towards her as he pressed her more fully into the door.

She could feel his body’s reaction to her pressing between her thighs, and she moaned again.

“Fuck,” he breathed onto her skin. “You are so gorgeous.”

“So are you,” she said, running her hands up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the mosaic of muscles flexing underneath. “Take this off.”

He laughed and pulled the offending garment over his head, making her groan in delight.

“God, this body ,” she breathed, running a hand down his chest and enjoying his shiver at her delicate touch.

He responded by spinning her away from him and gently dragging down the zipper of her dress until he could slip a hand inside of it.

“I knew you couldn’t have a bra on underneath this thing,” he said, voice a touch smug as he cupped both bare breasts and her breath caught in her throat..

“I’m surprised you even noticed,” she said, voice somewhat. “I wore this dress for you, and you didn’t even look at it once the entire evening.”

She laughed, the sound into a soft moan as he twisted one nipple in experimentation. When she sighed and let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Of course I noticed the dress,” he corrected. “You have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. I just knew that if I let myself look, I might not be able to stop looking.”

“You shouldn’t say that until you’ve seen them without the sorcery of underwire,” she said.

With that he spun her to face him, catching her gaze to ensure he had her permission before tugging down the top of the dress so her breasts fell free.

“Gorgeous,” he said, easing to his knees so he could replace his fingers with his mouth. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“If I known this was going to be your reaction, I would have worn a bodycon dress in front of you ages ago,” she said, threading her hands through his hair as he dragged his teeth and tongue along her nipple.

“You don’t need some tight dress to be sexy,” he said, resting his chin her her sternum so he could gaze up at her. “I’d take you in your overalls and pigtail braids any day.”

“Is this some Pippy Longstocking fetish we should all know about?”

He grinned, rising to his feet and giving one of her curls a playful tug.

“Because as devastating as you are playing dress up in your sister’s clothes, I prefer you as you.”

“You can’t say that when I’m naked,” she said with a smile, touching his cheek.

“Why not?”

“Because I may start crying and ruin the mood.”

He cocked his head to the side, tracing her lips with a finger.

“I wouldn’t mind a few tears from you in bed. But only if it’s from you sobbing in pleasure.”

His words sent blood pooling south, the intensity cause a dull throbbing.

“Why do I feel like you could do it, too?” She asked, reaching down to free his belt as he heeled out of his boots.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her hand and guiding it between his legs. “Forget this,” he said, squeezing gently so she could feel how hard he was. “I could go down on your all night and be the happiest guy on Earth.”

Emerie had said as much once, at a drunken girls’ night.

Azriel strikes me as the type of guy who loves eating girls out. It’s why gay women find him so easy to befriend; we recognize kindred spirit.

Elain vowed to never tell the others she’d been right.

“Will you let me?” He asked, gently nudging her dressing off her hips until it came free and pooled at her feet.

“Is this a trick question?” She said, voice going hoarse as he slipping a hand into her underwear.

“Some people don’t like it.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, he smiled, coaxing her legs around his waist so he could carry her.

“Thank God,” he replayed. “That would break my heart. Which way?”

She pointed him in the right direction before giving into temptation and kissing him again, looking to way she could feel like body reacting to hers as he held her close. Only when they reached her room—which was decidedly messier than she’d have liked considering Azriel Macar was now in it—did he set her down.

He wasted no time into coaxing her onto the bed, taking only a moment to admire the silky black thong she wore before dragging into down her thighs and discarding it.

“Spread your legs for me, El,” he said, brushing kisses to her knee as she slowly did as he commanded.

The light from the nearby street lamp made the room a lot less dark than Elain was used to during sex, and for a moment she though to be embarrassed or postpone. Then she glanced down to admire the contrast of Azriel’s inky black hair framed against the pale skin of her thighs, and she forgot what it even meant to be self-conscious as he finally put him mouth on her.

She swore at the first brush of his tongue, which was both deliberate and extremely delicate. She threaded a hand through his hair at his second stroke, the touch more intentional this time.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

She watched the muscles in his beautiful back shift at this, as if hearing her moan his name had untethered something in him. When he put his mouth back on her, it was clear he was no longer attempted to tease her. Instead he felt right to where she needed him most, refusing to relent until she tipped over the edge.

Even then he didn’t seem satisfied, it and it was only after he made her come a second time did he pull back, licking his lips before bending to kiss her.

“Take your pants off,” she demanded. "Right now.”

She felt him grinning against her neck as he peeled off of her, slowly working the buttons of his pants before sliding them down his trim hips. He wore black boxer briefs underneath, and he honestly looked like an Armani model. She bit her lip, eying the sizable swell of him through the cotton.

“Those too,” she breathed, greedily drinking in his well-defined adonis belt and the bare trace of hair above the band.

He did as she commanded, and she nearly melted. Naked he was a God, all rippling muscles and smooth unblemished skin, save for the chest piece tattoo that extended onto his shoulders and halfway down his arms. She let her eyes sink lower. Even half-hard he was big, and her belly clenched.

Wasting no time, she urged him to take her place on the bed before kneeling at his feet and putting her mouth on it.

“Shit,” he hissed, driving a hand into his hand then down his face. “Ellie, you’re kiling me.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, and he growled in approval, seeming to decide something before breaking her grip on him and hauling her to her feet. He kissed her again, and she could feel his cock as it practically pulsed between them.

She still wasn’t sure she could believe it was for her, that somehow he wanted her as much as she did him, and had for almost as long.

“Condoms,” he breathed against her mouth. “I need to be inside of you.”

She froze.

“I don’t have any,” she said, dismayed.

How could she be so stupid? Why didn’t they stop on the way home? The closest bodega was six blocks, and she knew everyone who worked there. The last thing she needed was all of them knowing—

Azriel pressed a swift kiss to her lips before tangling from her.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab a condom.”

“Naked?

He flashed her a slight grimace, “Let’s agree you won’t ask where I get it from.”

“Oh Moses,” Elain said, face flushing scarlet as she listened to Nesta’s door creaking open.

Azriel was back in less than a minute, tossing an entire box onto the nightstand as he pulled open one of the foils with his teeth, using his free hand to push his damp hair, long enough to brush his cheekbones now that it wasn’t styled, out of his eyes.

“You found those distressingly fast,” Elain said, unsure if she was amused or mortified at the situation.

“Cash is predictable with his hiding spots,” Az said, eyes hooded as he stroked himself several times before rolling the condom onto his length.

“And why did you take the whole box?”

Azriel laughed softly.

“Because I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”

Without another word Az sank to his knees again, one hand lazily stroking himself to maintain his erection as he went down on her again.

This time it only last three seconds or so before he pulled back, resting one knee beside her hip to steady himself before pulling her onto his shaft in a single wet stroke. Using her left bent leg as leverage, he adjusted his angle, smirking at her low, guttural moan of pleasure.

“Good to know your g-spot is as sensitive as the rest of you,” he breathed, and she laughed and tugged him into an ambitious rhythm.

Soon the only sound was their shared breathing, and the sliding on their bodies against one another. She came first, and he followed even before the dizzying waves of pleasure ceased. He pumped lazily in and out of her for another half dozen stroke before gently extracting from her and peeling off the condom.

She curled against him, cheek pressed to chest as her hands continued to explore. Her fingers caressed his swelling pectorals and each of his abdominal muscles before lazily venturing back between his legs. He gave a hiss of pleasure as she began to work his silken shaft in earnest, and in minutes he was fully ready again.

He groaned when she snatched one of the condoms and rolled it onto him before swinging a leg over and sinking astride him.

Her third orgasm hit her only a short time later, and she sighed when he bucked up into her before going languid under her ministrations.

She leaned down to kiss him as he ran a soothing hand down her back.

“Jesus,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers and swirling his hips, still inside her despite his orgasm. “That was incredible.”

She purred her contentment, feeling something even more alluring than desire swell in her chest as he discarded the second condom and tugged her into his arms, tangling their legs. He still smelled like cologne, but it had mixed with her perfume, and sweat, and the scent was intoxicating. She wanted to bath in it—in him—until she died from bliss. She listened to his breathing even out, and as she was drifting off to bed, he felt his breath ruffle her hair.

“Do you like pancakes?” he murmured. “I want to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Really?” she said, looking at him over a shoulder and melting at the warmth in his smile, less guarded now than it had been even hours before.

“I want to make breakfast for you every morning,” he breathed. “I have since I met you.”

She smiled, nestling closer to him.

“I’d love that, but I should probably be the one making you breakfast. It is your birthday, after all. You have to let me give you something other than a bj and a few orgasms for your birthday, even if it is your dirty 30.”

Az choked on a laugh.

“Say you‘ll dinner with me, then. No family or nosy friends around, just us.”

“I think the word you’re looking for it ‘date’,” she said, laughing as his cheeks flushed before realizing something. “Or is the idea just too formal for the situation? I know we did things a bit backwards...”

“We did,” he agreed, stroking her cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I want to spoil you any less. So yes a date, if you’ll still have me.”

“I will,” she said, meeting his hazel eyes before gently kissing him. “With pleasure.”

He smiled against her mouth.

“Then that’s the only birthday gift I want or need from you.”

She smiled, feeling happy to the point of bursting when he kissed her ear and closed his eyes again.

"Happy Birthday, Az.”

His hum of contentment vibrated through her back.

“The happiest,” he breathed.

[drakenology]

I Hate Everything About You - Dabi

warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)

author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.

summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?

You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.

There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.

And you did.

Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.

The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.

“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.

“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.

“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.

Shigaraki. 

He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.

“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside. 

“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.

“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”

You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree. 

“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door. 

Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this. 

“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away. 

“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki. 

“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit. 

“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.

“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest. 

“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?” 

You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep. 

“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes. 

“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men. 

One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch. 

“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21. 

“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round. 

“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table. 

“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think. 

“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him. 

“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside. 

“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall. 

“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill. 

“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.” 

You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that. 

“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed. 

“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him. 

“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body. 

“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot. 

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it. 

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now. 

“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch. 

“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request. 

“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.

“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go. 

“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still. 

“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers. 

“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head. 

“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand. 

“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all. 

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi. 

“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes. 

“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him. 

“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear. 

“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe. 

“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life. 

“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.

“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head. 

“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you. 

“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot. 

“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark. 

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release. 

“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum. 

“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.

“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm. 

“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up. 

“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind. 

“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed. 

“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow. 

“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame. 

“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks. 

bitch i.. i’m sick. 

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End Of Summer - Chapter 3

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 5K

Genre: Angst, Fluff.

Cameos: NCT Johnny, ITZY Yeji.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption sexual implications, arguing, and conflict.

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;)

Mia wakes up from the movement of her boyfriend stirring in his sleep. His arm was wrapped around her waist protectively and her head, as well as her arm, rested on his chest.

She winced at the dull pain in her head and soon realised she didn’t remember much of what happened last night.

Mia tried to untangle herself from Soobin without waking him in the process, and as she did so she started to look for her phone, finding it in the charger on Soobin’s desk. She grabbed it, looking for clues on social media as to what happened last night. She looked at the Instagram stories of some people that were at the party, but nothing stood out to her.

She realised you hadn’t posted anything and frowned. That’s unlike you.

Something in her told her to check for Yeonjun’s story, but again. Nothing. Very unlike him too.

She sighed looking back at her boyfriend who was still sound asleep.  

“Something is off,” she whispers to herself.  

You wake up with heavy lids. Usually, the first thing you do is grab your phone. But this time you just stare at the ceiling.  

Last night was the most eventful night you’ve had since you started college and not in a good way.

It started out great, though it ended quite abruptly and well, terribly. 

You close your eyes again as your mind flashes back to what had happened right before you left.

“Y/n,” Soobin says cautiously. “I-” he starts but you don’t let him finish.

You tear your eyes off of Yeonjun and Yeji, who by now had detached themselves from each other as they giggled to themselves.. They hadn’t noticed any eyes on them yet, especially yours.

“I want to go home,” you say saddened, turning back around to Soobin. He still wasn’t able to tear his eyes off of Yeonjun and Yeji as he stared at them, fire emitting from his pupils.  

“Soobin,” you warn him. “Let’s get Mia and let’s go. Now. Please” you plead.

Soobin finally looked at you, his heart breaking into a million pieces seeing the way your face fell. If it wasn’t for your pleading tone to leave the party, Soobin would have probably launched himself at Yeonjun. 

This was exactly what he was afraid of, but not in a million years did he guess it would happen this way.  

“Ok, ok. Let’s go,” Soobin says taking your hand and leading you through the crowded house.

You left without saying a word to anyone else, avoiding as many people as you could.  

Mia was fast asleep in the back seat of the car, and you silently stared out of the window lost in deep thought.

Soobin didn’t bother to start talking to you about what happened, knowing it would be to no avail.

“Are you sure you want me to take you to your place? You live alone…I don’t think-”

“I want to be alone,” you say cutting him off, your voice weak and hoarse.  

Soobin nods at your request. He put his hand on your thigh to comfort you before making a left to drop you off at your place.

The buzzing of your phone snapped you back to reality, and when you see the caller ID you sigh, it’s Mia.

You want to tell her everything, but you don’t really know where to start. Somehow you feel thankful for the fact that she was shitfaced drunk last night, cause if she wasn’t, she would have killed Yeonjun.

You let your phone ring until it goes to voicemail, but much to your dismay, Mia calls again.

You knew she wasn’t going to stop until you picked up. So you accept her call at the third try.

“Hey,” you say, your voice still laced with sleep.

“Hey, are you okay? Where are you? I don’t remember anything from last night and I need you to fill me in. What happened? Did you and Yeonjun kiss? Or better yet? Did you fuck? Is he with you?”  

Mia’s questions are like a whirlwind to your scrambled thoughts and her words basically go in one ear and out the other. You wince at her mentioning Yeonjun, sighing and burying your face in your pillow wanting to scream.

When you stay quiet on the other end of the line she realises that something was up.

“Y/n?”  

You take a deep breath and tell her everything in one go. From the fight you had with Soobin, to the walk you had with Yeonjun, all the way to the MTV Cribs tour you had with Johnny. You explained further on how Beomgyu, Soobin, and Yeonjun barged in and how hostile and angry Yeonjun suddenly got.

Mia didn’t react much other than a few ‘What the fucks’ until you got to the part where Soobin basically made you cry as you reconciled,  now getting to the juiciest part of it all.

“And then I witnessed Yeonjun basically eating Yeji’s face in front of everyone.”  

“N-O,” Mia gasped. She couldn’t believe it. Anger filled her senses as she inhaled sharply.

“Dude. ‘I’m here. I’m at Soobin’s. He didn’t take me to my place, he took me to his place. That means that Yeonjun is next door. FUCK,” Mia whisper-screamed.  

You sit up, your eyes growing big. “Mia, I swear to god. Do. Not. And I mean, DO NOT say or do anything to Yeonjun,” you curse at yourself for not asking where Mia was before. You should have known Soobin would take her with him since he would want to take care of her.  

You nervously bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her to reply.  

“You want me to pretend like everything’s okay when you just told me all of that?” She scoffs. “I guess you don’t know who you’re talking to,” Mia says walking out of Soobin’s room.

None of the other boys had woken up yet, so the living room was empty. She looked at the door to Yeonjun’s bedroom, biting her lip while angrily glaring at it.

Mia walked further into the living room, sitting down on the couch, deciding against any rash decisions.

“Well, he’s here. I see his car keys on the coffee table,” Mia says staring at the keys as she clears her throat.

“Dude. Don’t do anything. Please, I’m begging you. I’ll look crazy desperate.”  

“I could go key his car,” she says lifting the keychain, playing with it in her hand.

“Mia,” you warn her.  

“Alright, alright. The two of you should resolve this together, like adults. We’re not in high school anymore and this endless pining for each others’ attention needs to stop,” she sighs putting the keys back on the coffee table.  

“Besides he probably just kissed Yeji because he thought that you replaced him with Johnny,” Mia states confidently.

“That sounds so juvenile,” you say kicking your sheets off of yourself and getting out of bed.

“What other reason could he have, y/n?” Mia sighs. “He’s like a little kid who’s never had a serious relationship. All he knows is meaningless sex. And given the fact that the only girl he actually liked in college basically blew him off for another rich and popular senior, probably just made him insecure.”

“The words Yeonjun and insecure don’t belong in one sentence,” you say rolling your eyes.

“It’s true though. He just wants to be loved, but he’s afraid of getting hurt. That why he doesn’t let anyone get close.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you give in.  

“No, I AM right. You should’ve just watched him play beer pong and fed his ego a little. He’s a Virgo, he wants the satisfaction and the attention of the person he likes. Yet you went ahead and ditched him for a house tour with another hot guy,” she chuckled at her own observation.

Mia and her god damn astrology references. You hated how right she was.

You also hated how clearly she judged the situation because lord knows you couldn’t. Suddenly you had so much more to think about.

You rub your temples in an attempt to release the tension building up in your brain.

“Well, I hope so. Cause the other explanation would be that he’s just not that into me as I thought he was,”  you groan.

Mia sighed throwing her head back on the couch but as she did so, she heard a bedroom door creak open. Mia’s ears perked up at the sound, snapping her head in the same direction as the noise.  

It was Yeonjun’s room, but the person exiting the room was not Yeonjun.

Mia’s eyes widen as she sees Yeji close the door behind her.  

“Mia?” you call out for her due to the long silence on the other end of the line. “Earth to Mia?”  

Mia manically tried to lower the volume on her phone so your voice couldn’t be heard by Yeji, but Yeji jumped at the sound of a voice, looking straight into Mia’s widened eyes. They both looked at each other like deer’s caught in headlights.  

Busted.  

“Mia! What…are you doing here. You scared me,” Yeji’s voice was barely audible but you heard it. And you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

Does this mean what you think it means? You immediately put your volume up. Basically gluing your phone to your ear to hear what was going on a little better.

“My boyfriend lives here,” Mia stoically replies, earning an understanding nod from Yeji.  

She couldn’t believe this and neither did you.

“Ahh, right. Soobin.” Yeji says putting two and two together.  

“You were in Yeonjun’s room?” Is all Mia could ask. And as if she could sense it, she quickly put her phone on the armrest of the couch, hoping you could hear their voices clearer, and you did.  

“I-uh…well yeah, it kind of happened,” Yeji says awkwardly smiling at Mia.  

“Yes. Hate it when that happens.” Mia’s sudden cold tone confused Yeji, but she didn’t think much of it as she collected her coat and bag from the dinner table.  

“I was just about to head out…” she says walking towards the front door.

“Enjoy your walk of shame,” Mia says under her breath.  

To your relief, Yeji didn’t hear the snarky comment your best friend made. You did not want more drama to erupt. None of this is Yeji’s fault, though it would be easy to blame her, you knew that would be even more childish than Yeonjun’s behaviour. 

Yeji turned to look at Yeonjun’s bedroom door one more time before she opened the front door to their apartment. “Tell Yeonjun I had fun,” is all she says, and just like that she’s out the door.  

As the door closed behind Yeji, Mia frantically reaches for her phone again.

“Bitch. Did you hear that!?” She exclaims trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Y-yeah.” 

You’re frozen in place and literally couldn’t compute.

“Tell Yeonjun I had fun? What in the fuck. How about you tell him yourself, bum ass bitch,” Mia scoffs as she continues her rampage. “I take back everything I said about resolving things with Yeonjun as adults, not after this revelation. The fucking nerve this took from him. Why would he take her home? As if no one would find out-”  

“I’m gonna hang up,” you say before Mia could go on any further.

You had to admit, this hurt. Seeing them kiss was also painful but you could come back from a kiss that happened out of childish jealousy. This, however, was a different pang to your heart.  

“Y/n….” Mia’s tone softened as she heard the weak sound of your voice.  She knew you were upset, and she hated that she couldn’t give you a hug right now.  

You hang up. Deciding that a hot shower is the only thing that will make you feel better.  

Mia silently made her way back to Soobin’s room. To her surprise he was already awake, scrolling through his Instagram feed.

“Good morning baby,” he hums with his low raspy morning voice, smiling at her as he sees her messy bed hair and grumpy hang-over face.  

“Hi,” she sighs. “Thank you for taking care of me,” Mia says apologetically as she climbs on top of him, sitting down on his torso.

“You don’t have to thank me for things I’m supposed to do,” he says yawning.  

“Oh, by the way…” Mia smirks seductively, inching closer to Soobin. “What?” Soobin looks at his girlfriend with expecting eyes, pouting his lips for a kiss but instead of a kiss, he gets surprised with a hard slap across his chest.

“AH, What the fuck was that for!?” Soobin whines, rubbing the affected area with his large hand.

“That’s for fighting with y/n and making her cry,” she says crossing her arms.

“So…you talked to her,” Soobin sighs. He untangled himself from Mia, getting up and stretching his body. “I should call her,” he says rubbing the back of his head.

“I already did and she told me everything. But here’s the thing. As I was on the phone with her in the living room, Yeji suddenly emerged out of Yeonjun’s room.” Mia explains in a hushed tone, afraid that the walls suddenly became thinner and Yeonjun could hear them speak.

Soobin’s mouth fell agape. “What!?” He exclaims in a whisper.

Mia just nodded at her boyfriends’ shocked expression. Soobin clenched his fist as his face contorts from shock to anger in a matter of milliseconds.  

“I dare him to breathe near y/n again, I swear to god,” Soobin says through his teeth.

You had gotten out of your way too long shower, hair wet, dressed in nothing but your underwear and an oversized t-shirt which ended just below your butt.

You mindlessly do your whole skincare routine but you jump when your phone starts to buzz. You reach for it, eyes widening as you see who just texted you.

[Yeonjun 12:43 PM]: Hey.

[Yeonjun 12:43 PM]: Do you still have my jacket?  

You stare at your phone, but it’s like your brain doesn’t want to comprehend that this is what he starts the conversation with. Maybe he needed an excuse to come and see you? Or maybe... you were just getting ahead of yourself and the dude just wanted his expensive Versace jacket back.  

Which you understand.  

[Y/N 12:45 PM]: Hi, yes I have it, sorry.

[Yeonjun 12:45 PM]: Can I come pick it up? You left without saying goodbye.

You scoff at his unbelievable reply and you hate acting impulsively, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from typing.

[Y/N 12:46 PM]: You seemed a little occupied, so :)  

[Yeonjun 12:46 PM]: Huh?

[Y/N 12:46 PM]: I’ll be home for another hour if you want to pick it up before I leave, be my guest.

[Yeonjun 12:47 PM]: Ok…

[Yeonjun 12:47 PM]: Are you mad at me or something?  

You roll your eyes at his observation. This motherfucker is either dense as fuck or he’s just pretending to be dumb. It’s like he couldn’t put two and two together.

You didn’t reply back to him and didn’t really expect him to show up either. Half an hour later you were seated on your couch, watching an anime while eating some instant noodles when you heard a knock on your door.

Shit. For real?  

You get up in a hurry, quickly chewing down the noodles that were still in your mouth and retrieved Yeonjun’s jacket from your dresser.  

You take a deep breath before you open the door, and there he is. Choi Yeonjun, as handsome as ever.

He looked like he never even partied the night before as if he got a full 8 hours worth of beauty sleep. He was dressed in an oversized black shirt with his Adidas joggers, accompanied by his usual chains, rings, and earrings that he never seemed to take off.

His eyes widened when he saw you, dressed in nothing but a large t-shirt while your hair was still damp from the shower you took. Right, you forgot to put pants on but you honestly didn’t mind taunting him a little.  

“Here you go,” you say try not to stare at him for too long as you hand him his jacket.

Yeonjun retrieved it from you without a word, still looking at you with wide eyes. His feet were frozen to the hard wooden floor beneath him.

“Was that all?” you ask crossing your arms as you lean on your doorpost.

You tried your hardest to sound unbothered and it was working. You got Yeonjun flustered and confused. His least favourite emotions.

“I-eh…I guess?” Yeonjun says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ok, have a great day,” you say closing the door, at least that was your plan but Yeonjun put his foot between the door; stopping it from closing on him. You’re shocked at his reflexes and so was he judging by the look on his face.

“Wait,” he says opening the door again. “That’s it?” He asked, looking at you with his confused puppy eyes.

You give him the same look of confusion. “What do you mean, you came to get your coat. Did you need anything else?”

“So you are angry at me?”  

You can’t help but roll your eyes, breaking character and he notices. 

“Why?” He asks biting the inside of his cheek.

 It’s one of his habits. He does that when he’s trying to understand something, or when he’s nervous. You couldn’t tell which one it could be this time and honestly, you didn’t give a shit. 

“Listen, if you truly can’t figure that out yourself then that says enough.”  

And just like that, it’s like an epiphany happened inside of his brain. His calm and collected demeanor disappeared as he scratches the back of his head.

“You saw me with Yeji.”  

You stay silent, ready to close the door again but he forces it open, walking inside of your apartment.

“I didn’t realise I invited you in?” you say looking at him in disbelief as you close the door behind you.

He nervously paced back and forth. “Is that why you left? Cause you saw me with her?”  

You still don’t answer him, which annoyed him. “Talk to me,” he says putting his jacket down on your nearest piece of furniture while taking a step closer to you. 

“You should’ve talked to me first, but you ran. Like a coward.” 

Your voice was laced with venom as you took a step back, away from him.

He didn’t know why, but you calling him a coward hurt more than he would like to admit. He scoffed, taking another step towards you.

“Cut the bullshit y/n. You’re the one who played me. I thought we were getting along just fine but I turn around for two whole seconds and you leave with some other dude.”  

“Johnny is nothing more than a friend.”

“Does he know that?”

“YES!” you yell at him. You’re frustrated at your sudden outburst but you couldn’t take it anymore.  

Your anger startled Yeonjun and he took a step back giving you some space. 

His eyes were still looking for more answers in yours. He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“You don’t get to put this on me when you wouldn’t even listen to what I had to say. Instead, you run off and have sex with Yeji out of spite? Cause you were jealous of Johnny? Real mature, Choi.”

“Wait, how do you know th-”

“I want you to leave,” you interrupt him, opening the door for him once again.

“Y/n...”

“No,” you sigh closing your eyes. “Leave.”  

Yeonjun sighs in defeat. Picking up his jacket once again, walking to your front door, stopping just inches away from you. “For what it’s worth…I’m sorry,” he said giving you one last look.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” you say, your tone bitchier than you expected. 

He didn’t reply, and you didn’t dare to look him in his eyes either, knowing that those dark orbs would pull you back under his spell again. 

You close the door behind him and lean your forehead against it, emotionally exhausted from the whole situation. But you had a feeling it was nowhere near over yet.

A few days went by like nothing had ever happened. You distracted yourself by organising your entire closet and cleaning out your cabinets.  

You cleaned your whole apartment hoping it would clear out your mind as well but Yeonjun was still a prominent figure that captivated your thoughts. You swore you wouldn’t open his Instagram stories or Snapchat’s, but you used Mia’s account to do so anyway.  

He was his usual self, he had fun and showed it off. You only see the good parts of Choi Yeonjun on social media, so you weren’t surprised. He wasn’t the type to post sad-girl quotes in his stories or subtweet to get attention, making it even harder to figure out what was really going on in his head. He just shows us what he wants us to see anyway. 

You couldn’t believe the fact that you fell under his spell even though everyone around you seemed to warn you about him. You just had to get yourself hurt, once again.  

You were more mad at yourself than you were mad at him, to be honest, but for some reason, his pleading tone accompanied with the desperate look in his eyes from that day kept swirling around in your thoughts.  

For the next couple of days, you focused on yourself and your mental health.

You decided to be anti-social even though your friends invited you to go do stuff. You just wanted to binge on your favourite shows and unwind from the hectic deadline filled semester that you had.

Apart from Soobin and Hueningkai visiting you to check if you were still alive, you hadn’t seen anyone else yet since that night. However, tonight there was a campus festival/bonfire for the new freshman who were coming in after summer as an introduction and orientation day and you and Mia volunteered a few months back for extra credit.

Everyone and you mean EVERYONE at the school that had somewhat of a social status was going to be there since it’s the last official event before the summer break officially started. Meaning that you would certainly see Yeonjun again.

“I can’t believe you got me to do this,” Mia sighed as she clips her name tag on to her hoodie a little too crooked to your liking.

You chuckle and fix it for her. “Also, you ghosted on us after the party. Did something else happen?” You bite your lip and shake your head. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

You didn’t want to hide stuff from her, but if Mia knows, Soobin knows. And you weren’t ready for that. Especially when you were still organising your thoughts on the situation.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast. You ran around with your checklists and made sure everything was ready and set for the festival to start with some other student board members. Mia, on the other hand, was in charge of giving groups of students full tours of the campus, which meant that you were separated for most of the day.

When the clock strikes 8 PM, the festival starts, and more and more people start to come in aside from the future freshman that were already there.

You stand at the sideline, checking off the last task on your to-do list and sigh in relief.  

Technically you are a supervisor for the night. So you couldn’t enjoy the party. 

Also, some of your teachers were there as well. Which meant that you couldn’t misbehave even if you wanted to.  

Your phone buzzes and you check your messages.

[Soobin 8.04 PM]: Hiiii, I’m here. Where are you?

[Y/N 8:04 PM]: Near the entrance, to the left. I’m wearing our obnoxious purple campus hoodie, shouldn’t be hard to find me.

[Soobin 8.04 PM]: I see youuuu, don’t move.

You chuckle and search for your friend. It didn’t take long before you spot him since he was built like a skyscraper. You watch him bulldoze his way through the crowd to greet you and laugh as he almost trips over his own legs as he approaches.  

“Hey girl, heyyy,” Soobin says enveloping you in a hug. He was followed by Taehyun and Beomgyu. Who also hugged you and said their hello’s.

“Are you already drunk?” You ask Soobin as you make him look at you by tugging at his chin.

“We tried to stop him but it was of no use,” Beomgyu chuckled.  

“Let him live a little,” Taehyun interferes. “Our captain has worked so hard all year.”  

“Just…look after him since Mia and I won’t be able to. We have to work tonight,” you pout.

“That sucks. We missed you at game night yesterday and now you’re telling me that you don’t get to party with us at all tonight?” Taehyun pouts back at you. And you simply nod at him with a sad facial expression to match his.  

You were wondering if Soobin told them about what happened that night at the party. Soobin is a horrible liar and you knew he wouldn’t lie as to why you didn’t make it to game night. But you didn’t want to ask.

“Where’s Hueningkai?” you ask looking around for him. “Or did you kill him at game night for cheating in that fruit card game you guys play?” You joke, earning chuckles from the boys.

“He’s with Yeonjun hyung and a few others from the team. They had dinner somewhere before they came here. We came straight from the dorm” Beomgyu explains, as he was texting someone on his phone.  

They definitely knew something was up. Taehyun is smart and quick-witted, so you were sure he knew too. Especially since his eyes grew in size a little after he heard Yeonjun’s name.  

Beomgyu however, was too busy with his phone to care. You decide to pry and look over his shoulder. “You’re talking to Ryujin again?” you say smirking as you read her name and Beomgyu immediately hides his phone from you. “Maybe,” he pretended to be annoyed but he couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sound of her name.

Soobin sighed, clearly unamused. “Where’s Mia?” He asked sitting down at the bleachers behind him.  

“She should be on her way back from her last campus tour,” you say looking around you, hoping you would see her and that’s when you spot him.

Yeonjun.

He walked in with his confident stride, surrounded by other attractive guys from the team, including Hueningkai.  

You could see the future freshman girls freak out a little as they entered. And you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.  

He ate it up, lost in his own bubble. No one could touch him, that’s how unreachable he made himself seem.

But you knew better. Your mind flashing back to his desperate eyes, trying to find answers in yours when he stepped foot in your apartment, and his desperate eyes when you kicked him out.  

You averted your gaze from them quickly, but not before Yeonjun’s eyes found yours.  

Shit.  

You sigh and pick up your schedule. “Guys, I’m sad to say this, but I have to leave. I have bar duty.”  

Soobin’s ears perked up at the word ‘bar’ and he looked at you, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons as he gave you a coy smile. “Does that mean you’ll give us free drinks?”  

“The opposite,” you say sticking out your tongue at him. He just glares at you in return and you laugh at his childlike antics.

“Gotta go, when I’m free, I’ll join you guys, and please keep an eye on him,” you tell Tae and Beomgyu as you run off.

“Will do sis,” Taehyun yells after you.

You arrive at the bar stand and see Mia already overwhelmed and panicked. Trying to keep up with the number of people in line. She spots you and sighs in relief.

“Thank god! Where were you? I can’t handle this alone,” she says throwing an apron your way.  You swiftly caught it and tie it around your waist.

“Sorry, I ran into Soobin, Tae, and Gyu. Soobin is already drunk by the way,” you say as you start pouring drinks in cups, organising them so they could be handed out immediately.

Mia rolled her eyes. “Of course he is,” she chuckles shaking her head.

“Did you see Yeonjun yet?” Mia asks carefully as she leans against the bar, staring at you intently.

“Yes, he was with Hyuka and some other guys from the team.”

“He didn’t try to talk to you at all since the party?” Mia asks confused.

And just as you opened your mouth to answer her question, you were interrupted.

“I’ll take two beers, and your phone number.”  

A familiar voice made your ears perk up, and you turn around. You spot the tall brunette and give him a wholehearted smile.

“Johnny!” You exclaim enthusiastically, giving him a clumsy hug over the counter.

“You and your endless flirting,” you joke as you hand over the beers to him.  

He gave you a beaming smile, taking a sip of his drink as he hands you the money in return. “I mean, you pretty much left without saying goodbye. And since I didn’t have your number I couldn’t contact you,” he points his finger at you accusingly, and you giggle.

Mia was behind you, busting her ass trying to serve the alcohol deprived students but that didn’t stop her from keeping an eye on you and Johnny.  

She noticed how your face lit up, and she also noticed how Johnny leaned closer to you over the counter. And then…her eyes landed on an equally tall figure, standing behind Johnny.

“Are you gonna take much longer bro? I’m trying to get drunk tonight.”  

You freeze in place, feeling like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do.  

It was Yeonjun. He looked at you with his intense gaze. And all you could do was stare back at him in shock. 

A different type of tension filled the air. Your eyes darting from one to the other in panic. 

He glared at Johnny through half-lidded eyes, impatiently tapping his feet. “I’m in desperate need of some vodka,” Yeonjun states, giving Johnny a sarcastic smile, who by now had turned around to meet his eyes.

“So am I,” you say to yourself, preparing for the worst.

Chapter 4.

[thegreenwolf]

Betting on the Ponies (originally posted at my blog at https://thegreenwolf.com/betting-on-the-ponies/)

(Above:  Breyer Classic Arabian Stallion made over into a winged unicorn with real wings from a barnyard mix rooster I raised for meat.)

If you’ve been paying attention to my social media or my shop links at all, you may have noticed that I haven’t really been posting much in the way of new hide and bone art for the past year or so. It’s not that I’ve stopped; I still make some fun things for my Patrons on Patreon every month, and I make some bone, tooth and claw jewelry on Etsy to order. But ever since events dried up, I haven’t been regularly making new batches of costume pieces or other Vulture Culture art. My usual M.O. was to make all sorts of new things for an upcoming event, and then once the weekend was done and I was home, post whatever hadn’t sold on Etsy. And since there haven’t been events…well…I’ve just found myself doing other things.

Some of that is because I’ve had to scramble to make up for the lost income; events were a pretty big chunk of my “pay”, and losing them meant having to tighten the belt. I also lost several other income streams thanks to the pandemic making it unsafe to be around groups of people, which didn’t help. So I had to rely on what was left, along with adopting a few new sources of bits and bobs of cash here and there.

And, honestly, I’ve needed a bit of a break. I’ve been making hide and bone art for over two decades now, and while I love it, any artist eventually wants to explore different media for a while. Sure, I’ve stretched my Vulture wings in new directions, going from costume pieces and ritual tools to assemblages and the Tarot of Bones. But ever since the Tarot came out, I’ve been feeling….not really burned out, but a little creatively wrung out, at least. I’ve really appreciated my Patrons and Etsy customers who have helped me keep a hand in that particular medium, while also allowing me to head off in other directions, too.

Which is to say that if you have been paying attention to the aforementioned social media and shops, you may have also noticed that I’ve been increasing the number of customized Breyer model horses and other animals I’ve made over the past couple of years. This might seem like a heck of a departure from skulls, bones, and other dead things. But in a way it’s really me getting back to long-neglected roots.

(One of my favorite customs I’ve done on one of my favorite molds, the Breyer semi-rearing mustang. )

See, I was a horse girl when I was a kid. Or, rather, I was a wannabe horse girl. I never got to lease or own a horse, and even now in my early 40s I’m still about the greenest rider you’ll find. (Seriously, I need one of those kid-proof horses that’s seen it all, done it all, and is probably more trail-smart than I am.) But I was obsessed with horses from a young age. It started with my very first My Little Pony that I got Christmas morning, 1983 (Applejack, if you must know), and then exploded further with a book on how to draw horses and my first Breyer model (Black Beauty 1991 on the Morganglanz mold) in my preteens. Horse actually took over for Gray Wolf for a few years as my primary animal spirit during my teens, so we have a very long history indeed.

And since I couldn’t have a real horse, I ended up collecting model horses, mostly Breyers with a few old Hartlands for variety. I had over 100 at the peak of my collecting, but I had to sell them all in my early twenties when I was between jobs. In hindsight it was probably for the best because having less stuff made it easier to get through the period of my life where I was moving about once a year, but I do miss that collection.

Back then I did my part to add to the artistic end of the model horse hobby, mostly with badly blended acrylic paint jobs and terrifying mohair manes and tails. But it made me happy, and that was the most important thing. Even though I only knew a couple other collectors in my little rural area, and my only real connection to the hobby was through the quarterly Just About Horses magazine Breyer put out, my collecting really made me happy in the same way that my first fur scraps and bones would catch my interest a few years later.

2020….well, it sucked. We all know that. Pandemic, political stress, financial roller coasters and more made it a really tough year for anyone who wasn’t wealthy enough to hide away and weather it all. And many of us found ourselves with more time at home, in need of distractions and solace. It ended up being a time where many people rediscovered their love of childhood hobbies. I’m one of those people. I’ve been slowly edging my way back in for the past few years, starting with repainting a few old Breyer models found at thrift stores, and then gaining momentum as I found that not only was I much better at customizing these models than I used to be, but I was having fun without the pressure to make a living off of it. (Yes, I love my hide and bone art, but when an art form is your bread and butter, it changes your relationship to it. But that’s a post for another time…)

So 2020 saw me really ramp up my customization efforts. I had to stop for a few months in summer and fall when I moved to a spifftacular new living space on the farm I’ve been working on the past few years (with, by the way, THE best studio space EVER!) but as the days shortened I found myself making more dedicated time to repainting and otherwise customizing models. I even started keeping a few of the models I’d bought to customize that were in better condition to create a small, but slowly growing original finish collection, and that really helped me feel like I was back in the (not actually a) saddle.*

That’s why a well-established artist of organic, pagan-influenced arts made from fur and leather and bone and feather suddenly started painting all these secondhand plastic ponies. It’s giving me that deep injection of childhood nostalgia balanced with adult skill and perspective, and it’s offered me a much-needed break from the exhausting schedule I’ve been living the past decade or so. Because suddenly, even with the time spent rearranging my income opportunities to make sure I could stay afloat, I found myself with a little time that hadn’t been scheduled to death, and when I thought about what I wanted to do with that time, I gravitated toward one of the few creative outlets in my life that was purely for fun.**

(Yes, this IS fan art of “The Last Unicorn”! I used a Breyer Stablemate rearing Arabian for the unicorn, and a Breyer Spanish fighting bull for the Red Bull. A LOT of fun to make this particular project.)

In a way having all my events canceled was one of the best things that happened to me, because it made me slow the fuck down. I no longer had several weekends a year where I had to spend weeks beforehand making art and otherwise preparing to be away from all my farm responsibilities for 4-7 days at a time, with all the packing and moving and setup and vending and teaching and teardown and going home and unpacking and exhaustion that goes with each event. I realized just how much each one was taking out of me, especially as I’ve gotten older. And I also recognized how much pressure I had been putting on myself to ALWAYS MAKE MORE STUFF FOR ETSY EVERY WEEK OR ELSE.

So the model horses are really sort of a symbol of the childhood joy I’ve managed to recapture, wresting time and energy back from my workaholic tendencies. I’ve even been thinking about what my professional life is going to look like once the pandemic eases up enough to allow events again, and whether I’ll put the same amount of time toward vending and and teaching at conventions and festivals as I used to. (There are a few favorites that I’m not going to miss for anything, so don’t worry about me dropping out entirely.) But for the first time in a very long time, I’m relearning to prioritize myself, and figuring out that maybe I don’t have to go hell-bent for leather every week, every year, in order to keep the bills paid and the critters fed.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s okay for this dead-critter-artist, pagan-nonfic-author, teacher-vendor-farmer, to indulge herself with something fun, and bet on the ponies to help her get through the tough times.

(P.S. Amid everything going on, I am back to working steadily on my next book, which I mentioned in this blog post almost a year ago. As a recap, its working title is Coyote’s Journey: Deeper Work With the Major Arcana, and it’s a deep dive into that section of the tarot using pathworkings with the animals I assigned to the major arcana of the Tarot of Bones. It’s not just a Tarot of Bones book, though; it’s a good way to get a new, nature-based angle on the majors in general, as well as hopefully gain a better understanding of yourself. My goal is to have it out later this year, self-pub of course, and at the rate I’m going it may end up being my longest book! Stay tuned, and if you want to get excerpts of the work-in-progress, become my Patron for as little as $1/month!)

*At the height of my “horse girl” phase, I had a really beat-up pony saddle I’d bought for ten bucks at a yard sale, and got a cheap saddle stand for it and put it in my room. And yes, I occasionally sat on it and pretended I was riding an actual horse. Hey, it made me happy at the time, and it was the closest I was ever going to get apart from a trail ride every few years.

**Yes, I do sell my customs. But I don’t make them on a schedule, I take commissions VERY sparingly, and I’m getting to stretch some new creative muscles, especially in the realms of sculpting and painting, so this is primarily for my enjoyment. The sales are just a side benefit.

(My ode to the forests of the Pacific Northwest, a Breyer deer repainted to resemble the Columbian black-tailed deer that frequent the farm I live on, along with hand-sculpted Amanita muscaria mushrooms, real and fake moss, and real lichens from fallen branches.)

[prettyboybarzal]

15 or 21 from the angst/fluff list with either barzal or beauvillier please? Love everything you write 💜💜

this took me so long and i am sORRY. i hope you like it and thank u for the sweet message 🥺

21: “Shouldn’t you be with him?” w/ Mr. Barzal

It was just like you to go above and beyond for someone who probably wouldn’t do the same for you. But, honestly, you couldn’t help it. Especially when it came to Mat.

And, honestly, it wasn’t just for him. Sure, it was his birthday. But, all the guys were getting ready to head home for the off season, so it was more of a send-off than just a party for Mat’s birthday. It was for everyone. And, because it was for everyone, you were getting no help from anyone.

It was around 7 p.m. that you were rushing down the hall to your apartment with bags of finger foods and beer. As you rounded the corner to your door, you bumped straight into Derick Brassard’s chest.

“Jesus, YN,” he murmured. “Are you good?”

“Oh, good!” you exclaimed. You passed a bag off to him and shoved him back towards your door. “Why are you here?”

“I was dropping off beer for later,” he answered. “I just left it at your front door.”

“For all my neighbors to see and steal?”

“You’re dramatic,” he noted. You came to a stop at your front door where Derick picked the beer up from the welcome mat as you unlocked the apartment. “Where should I put this?”

“Put everything on the kitchen counter.”

Derick ducked into the kitchen and placed everything down before turning to take the rest from your hands. You walked away with just the balloons and began to tie them around the chairs at your dining table.

“You know you didn’t have to do all this for us,” he murmured, leaning up against the wall. “We gladly would have just met up at a bar to grab a few drinks and shoot the shit.”

“Yeah, I know that,” you stated. You fastened the last balloon to the last chair and looked around the room with your hands on your hips. “But I figured this is a nice treat. Just our friends, hanging out, celebrating the season.”

“Celebrating Mat’s birthday,” Brass mumbled under his breath. You looked over at him and noticed the card in his hand. He waved it at you. You took a step forward and snatched it out of his hand.

“Two birds, one stone,” you stated. “Besides, you know he’d be bitching if we didn’t do something for him.”

Derick hummed, a knowing smile settling on his lips as he stepped towards the door.

“Do you need anything else, dude?” he asked. “I have to go home and shower, but if you need anything I can bring it when I come over.”

“I think I’m okay.”

“Alright, lover girl.”

Brassard was out the door a moment later, leaving you with the scarlet red blush across your cheeks.

Every time you were with one of the Isles boys, another one of them noticed your crush on Mat. The first was Anthony, simply because he was around the two of you more than the others. It was right before the Christmas break. You’d gone out for drinks with the two boys in the city and Mat’s hands were on you the entire night.

It was innocent really, and he was drunk. But, Tito couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to where Mat’s hands rested on your hips, or around your waist and against your stomach. He’d watch with wide eyes as he sipped his drink. He didn’t intend on saying anything about it until Mat passed out on your couch afterwards and Beau found you staring at his face while you ran your fingers through his hair.

“If I was in your position, I would’ve been so annoyed at him right now.”

“Why?”

“There were so many guys checking you out tonight,” Anthony stated. “But this one was all over you.”

“It’s whatever.”

Tito didn’t miss the blush that appeared on your face, and took a mental note of it for later.

The second to notice was Ebs. It came when he had to pick Mat up at your apartment before practice one morning. He had come over for dinner the night before and, again, ended up sleeping over. While he gathered his stuff from inside, you went out to say hi to Jordan.

“Why do you let him live here rent free?” he asked with a smirk. You raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s literally always here.”

“No, he’s not.”

“He is,” he insisted. “This is like the third time this week, I think. Beau and I check his location. We have a running bet.”

Before the conversation could continue, Mat came bounding out of your apartment. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder and placed a kiss on your hairline before hopping into the car.

Now, it was Derick.

You figured from their perspective that all of Mat’s little touchy-feely mannerisms would look suspicious. But, you’d seen him leave bars with tons of girls before and he never once tried to do that with you.

And, sure, he’d slept over maybe way too many times and drunk Mat had left kisses against your neck and your shoulders. He even had a key to your place, and left at least one piece of clothing at your place every time he came over. But, there were absolutely no hidden feelings. That was just the way he was. Touchy, feely. Besides, he’d been in a relationship not long ago and you figured he just liked that you could substitute for that type of commitment.

People started showing up to your apartment around 9:30 p.m., Derick being amongst the first there. He helped make sure that everyone was eating and starting to drink. He also set up a few drinking games before disappearing into the kitchen to make some pigs in a blanket. You followed him in to make sure he didn’t fuck it up.

Mat and Beau arrived a little while later, unbeknownst to you. They said their hellos to everyone in the living room before Mat started asking about you.

“Kitchen, I think,” one of the boys told him as Tito settled into a game of flip cup with them. Mat smiled and headed in the direction of the kitchen, only to find you and Derick giggling in front of the oven.

“Barzy!” Derick exclaimed as soon as he saw him. Mat gave him a half-assed smile, trying his best suppress the jealous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Derick glanced back at you. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

He slipped out past Mat, sending you an eyebrow raise behind Mat’s back.

“Hey, you,” you greeted him. Mat stepped forward and wrapped an arm around your waist. He pulled you against his chest and kissed your forehead. “Happy early birthday.”

“Thank you.”

His greeting was a little less enthusiastic than normal, but you brushed it off with a smile.

“I’ll be out in a bit,” you told him. “Go have some fun and I’ll find you in a little bit.”

Mat offered you nothing but a nod before you slipped back out to the living room. He tried to shake the picture of you and Derick in the kitchen from his mind, but it sort of ruined his night. He didn’t like seeing you with another guy in the kitchen, in such a domestic moment. He wanted that to be him.

And it didn’t help that as soon as Derick left the bathroom he went back to the kitchen.

It wasn’t for another fifteen or twenty minutes that the two of you joined the rest of the party, and even then you seemed to be attached to his hip.

If Mat wasn’t so dense, maybe he would have realized that everyone else had already partnered up for beer pong. You had to go with Derick. But, again, jealousy makes some people a little stupid. Especially Barzy.

The beer pong tournament was Beau’s idea, of course, and he managed to make Barzy his partner, despite everyone’s complaints that they were an unfair duo. They ran the tables the entire time, which was surprising considering every time Mat wasn’t shooting the ball, he was busy shooting daggers in Derick’s direction.

When the tournament was finally over, Mat fell onto the couch and began to sulk. That’s when you made your move to flop down beside him. You picked his arm up and wrapped it over your shoulders, sending him a dorky smile as you did so. He didn’t smile back.

“Shouldn’t you be with him?” Mat asked, nodding his head in Derick’s direction. You narrowed your eyes at him in confusion. “I mean, you’ve spent the entire night hanging around Brass. Might as well keep it that way. Don’t worry about me.”

Mat peeled his arm away from you and leaned away, grimace on his face.

“You’re kidding, right?” you asked. You hoped the question would bring him back to reality. It didn’t. He just remained stone faced, waiting for you to explain yourself. Which you definitely didn’t need to do. “Fine, yeah, I should be with him.”

As soon as you stood up and went back to Derick, Mat knew he fucked up. He watched Derick lean in to listen to you and glance back in his direction. He raised his eyebrows at Mat before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

He tried to brush it off for the rest of the night, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. And he couldn’t stop glancing at you, searching for you in the crowd of people as the night went on. You stuck with Derick, it’s what Mat asked for really. He couldn’t blame you.

He drank a little too much, maybe, and by the time people began to filter out of the apartment he realized it was now or never. But, he couldn’t find you anywhere. So, he frantically searched for Derick. No way the two of you would disappear together, right?

“Ready to head out?” Beau asked. Mat turned on his heel at the voice and released a quick breath when he saw Derick over Beau’s shoulder. “Mat?”

“Give me a few?”

The boys nodded, knowing damn well that Mat needed to make an apology tour before leaving.

Mat went down the hallway and knocked on your bedroom door before opening it. You weren’t in there, but there was a gift bag on the bed with his name on it. He glanced over his shoulder and approached it. He ran his fingers along the ribbon tying the handles together and then grabbed the card that was peeking out of it.

He didn’t hear the door to your bathroom open, didn’t hear you lean up against the frame to watch him.

“Are you going to open the card, or what?”

“YN,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“Just open it.”

You walked over and plopped down at the end of the bed beside the gift bag, motioning for him to open your gift.

He opened the card and read it to himself.

Happy birthday to the best guy I know. Thankful for your curls, your hugs, your kisses, and all the memories we’ve made. Here’s to another trip around the sun. I love you! – YNN

Mat closed the card and pouted at you, but you just raised your eyebrows at him in a way of telling him you were sick of his shit from tonight.

“I threw you this entire party. By myself,” you told him. “I did this for you. Not for Tito, or Derick, or anybody else. You. I said it was for everyone because you’re all going home for the off season, but every other one of the guys called bullshit. They all knew this was just an excuse for me to celebrate your birthday with you.”

Mat sighed, but you continued talking.

“But you are so fucking dense that you didn’t even realize that. And then you came up with this bizarre scenario in your head where I want to be with Brass over you. Are you kidding me, Barz? The only person I ever want to be with is you. I’m so tired of trying to get you to notice how much I like you when it always goes right over your stupid head.”

Mat stared at the words on the card for another moment. He kept reading the same part over and over again. ‘your curls, your hugs, your kisses’ and ‘I love you’.

You waited for him to say something, anything, watching as he read the card again and again.

Finally, he looked up at you and tossed the card onto the bed. He took your face in his hands and ducked his head to yours. And then he stopped, lips ghosting over yours momentarily before he closed the gap between you. You gasped into his kiss, standing to get closer to him. His arm wrapped around your waist, tightening his grip on you.

When he pulled away, you fell back on your heels with your eyes still closed. His free hand brushed along your hairline and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You finally looked up at him, still breathing heavily.

“I like you a lot.”

“Do you?” you asked, giving him a skeptical look.

“So much,” he murmured. “I saw you with Derick and I just assumed the worst. I’ve been trying to confess how I feel for so long, but I like how things are and I didn’t wanna ruin it.”

“How things are?” you repeated. “Like how we act like we’re dating, but there’s no label?”

Mat’s cheeks flushed.

“I hate that,” you admitted. “I just figured I was a safety blanket… That I was the only one with feelings here.”

“Not at all,” he stated with a shake of his head. He leaned in again and kissed you once more. When he pulled away this time, he whispered, “I’m sorry that I’m an asshole. I’m sorry that you did all this for me and I didn’t appreciate it.”

“You can just make it up to me now.”

Mat’s eyes went wide and all the heat went to your cheeks. You couldn’t believe you’d just said that. And with your whole chest.

“Hold that thought,” he said. He turned and walked out of your room. “Tito? Brass? I’m gonna stay here tonight.”

“We know!” Derick called back as Tito yelled, “Use protection!”

The door to your apartment shut and Mat came back into your room with a pump of his fist. He walked right up to you and picked you up to drop you onto the bed. He crawled up and hovered over you with a devilish smirk.

“Now, where were we?”

[dokidokibook]

Strawberry Dresses & Dango

warnings: fluff, head over heels crushing, cussing, anxiety

summary: this is told through Jiro's eyes, about how she feels about another student in class 1A.

A/n: sorry I wasn’t writing for a bit, I just had this in my head for the longest time and I’ve drawn them together and I had to write it out ! Enjoy please, and leave feedback !

Jiro's Perspective:

Everything about her reminded me of the sun. She was so bubbly and vibrant-- and so so colorful. The way she smiled made the world around me disintegrate, like the only thing holding me to Earth was a faulty balloon string. Did she know how I felt about her? I could never tell. I was content with only being a friend, a close acquaintance to her. Until one day, she got too close to me and popped my resolve like a balloon.

"Matching what?"

Her eyes, golden irises with black scleras, found mine with a teasing impatience. I tried not to notice how her thick lashes framed her eyes in a way that made her look almost doll-like.

"Matching dresses, Kyo-" I blanched at the nickname- "The cute strawberry ones, designed by Lirika Matoshi. Oh, they're so pretty! They've got a pink one and a black one, do you want to match? We could go on a picnic and take pictures, and we could..."

As she blabbed on about the desired dresses, I felt myself slipping into a mental void. Mina wanted to match with me. Me. Out of all the girls in class 1-A, she chose me. I felt the heat rise into my cheeks.

"Kyo, are you feeling well? We don't have to match if you don't want to, you know."

"No, no, no," I protested, probably too loudly. Iida shushed me from behind his book. "No, I'd love to."

So Mina ordered the dresses a day or two later. I sheepishly poured out my piggy bank and handed her what was probably years of saving-- it was worth it. Oh, to wear matching dresses, things couples do, with my crush of years? Oh, you'd better believe I'd do it in a heartbeat. Denki eyed me with suspicion more than once while Bakugo snorted and said it'd been a waste of money. Mina simply brushed them off and went on about whatever she'd been talking about before.

I loved that about her, how she so simply brushed off the criticism. Didn't give it a second thought, either. I stared at her in awe. I loved hearing her talk; her voice brightened up my day after a long time of being lonely. I twirled my ear jack around my finger, ignoring Denki's curious stare.

About a month later, I was lying across my bed, head buried in my pillow when someone began pounding at the door. My sensitive ears were immediately pained. I groaned and shoved myself off my bed with my elbows.

"Who is it?" I sighed.

"It's Mina-- open up!"

I blushed pink. "One sec." I hadn't had time to tidy up. I shoved some stray clothes into the hamper and tugged a black hoodie over my head.

"The dresses came! I didn't want to open them without you, and I just couldn't wait..."

Ah, so that explained her barging in at 11:27 on a school night. Hopefully, Mr. Aizawa was already asleep and wouldn't come looking.

"Let's see them then," I said, sitting cross-legged on my bed.

The next day was a Saturday. That meant Aizawa wouldn't be on our asses about working out-- it was a day to relax. An excited Mina had left my dress draped over my desk chair in hopes I'd get up early for our picnic date. Little did she know, after she'd left, I didn't sleep a single wink.

I stared into the mirror in my bathroom with a sigh. The shadows under my eyes were a deep purple, but at least they'd go with the dress. Soon after I'd fussed with my hair and face, I tugged the dress on and found a little difficulty with the strings. A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.

"Need a little help?" Denki's hair was tousled all over, his eyes wild and excited.

"Er... sure."

Denki tugged the strings lightly-- as though he was afraid to hurt me. I inhaled lightly. My nerves were getting the best of me.

"Big date today, huh?"

I froze. "Not really a date," I said as calmly as I could.

Someone behind Denki snorted. I recognized the voice as Sero's.

"Yeah, sure. You're sweating bullets, Jiro."

I chuckled. I couldn't help it-- they knew me so well. "That obvious?"

"Duh," Denki said, tugging the last string into place. "You turned red as a tomato when Mina mentioned it to you the first time. If it's not a date, then maybe you've just got a crush on her, and she only sees you as a friend-"

"It's definitely a date," Sero interrupted. "Don't psych yourself out, okay?"

I blinked and smiled. "Okay."

"Kyo, you look awesome!"

I couldn't breathe. Not because Denki tied the strings too tight, although they were a bit snug around me. She was absolutely ethereal, the midday sun highlighting her pink curls and dancing around her face. Her skin glistened in the fading orange light. She smiled, her plump lips curving up into a heart shape. I wanted to stay in this moment forever. Nothing could snap me out of this little piece of heaven, nothing.

"You look beautiful, Mina."

Mina giggled, a high, pealing of bells. "Oh, thank you, Kyo; I was hoping I didn't overdo it, you know?"

Not at all, I thought. I stared at Mina until I realized I was staring, then blinked away.

We took some photos, a few of which I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She smiled so proudly, so widely, I felt my heart tightening in my chest. I had to tell her. Today.

"Mina," I began.

"Hmm?"

She was just so perfect I could cry. Her eyelashes shone in the deep russet light.

"This Dango is pretty yummy; did you make it yourself?"

She nodded, beaming at me. "It is pretty good, huh? Took me a few tries too, but Denki didn't mind eating the mistakes."

I felt like such a coward. Why was this so hard?

"Hey, Mina," I tried again.

"Yes, Kyo?"

"Where'd you get the idea for this? The dresses, the picnic?"

She swallowed the bite of Dango she'd been chewing. "I saw it on TikTok; pretty cute, huh? Saw some lesbian couples doing it and thought I'd go with you."

I wanted to ask why.

As if she could hear my thoughts, she continued. "I wanted to go with you because I really like you, Kyo. I was just too much of a pussy to tell you." She giggled nervously, and I swore I could hear my heart thudding in my ears.

"You...You like me?"

She nodded sheepishly. "I took this time to tell you. If you don't feel the same, that's okay. I just had to get it out."

How could I not feel the same? Who wouldn't feel the same for Mina fucking Ashido, by far the prettiest girl in our grade?

I noticed I hadn't spoken, and my hands had tightened so much that the stick of Dango was sticking into my fingers.

"I feel the same," it was a whisper. "Yeah, I like you too."

Part two? Let me know <3.

[marmolady]

Pride

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Diego x Varyyn, Estela x MC

Summary: (Endless Ending– set after my longer fic, ‘Broken Chains’, if you’ve not read it, assume a happy ending).  Surrounded by a barrier of friends, Varyyn joins Diego as they march in their very first Pride parade.

Word Count: 1588

Tagging:   @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr,  @greengroove

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Cloaked in a dark hood, at odds with the popping attire of near everyone around him, Varyyn was wide-eyed with fascination as he stepped out of the Northbridge train station, Diego at his side. The streets were awash with colour, hues that were draped over countless flags, banners, even the skin of revelers.

Diego grasped his husband’s hand tightly. He was awash with emotion; anxiety at having Varyyn surrounded by so many people, but more than that, a feeling of belonging that he’d craved for as long as he could remember.

“This is it, Varyyn,” he uttered hoarsely. “Happy Pride!”

“I am always proud to be with you, my love.”

Taylor was grinning like an idiot-- for her, too, this was a first, as it was for Estela with whom her fingers were entwined. “We’ve got this, Diego, the rest of us should be enough of a barrier to stop anyone from looking at you two too closely.”

Giving his best friend a warm smile, Diego nodded. That he’d been touched to have ten friends putting themselves out there to give him the kind of Pride experience he’d wistfully imagined was an understatement. They had his back. “Yeah, we got this.”

He looked around. Friends surrounded him on all sides, dressed in their colours or else proudly wearing ‘ally’ pins. To think he’d felt so alone before--

“Hey!” Craig exclaimed, “If anyone gets to close to our V-Dog, I can pull off a killer diversion. I’ve been practising my moves for weeks…”

“It’s been fucking torture to watch,” Zahra said. “But, yeah, your dancing will scare anyone off, I’ll give you that.”

As they marched on with the parade, the smile on Estela’s face just grew broader. She’d never had a chance to do anything like this in San Trobida, and probably she’d have steered clear of all the fuss anyway. Since returning from La Huerta, her sexuality, the identity that came with it, meant a whole lot more. On La Huerta, no one gave a damn, and she hadn’t bothered herself with labels. Today,though, her wrist was adorned with a pink, yellow and blue bracelet.

“I didn’t know you identified as pansexual?” Quinn queried warmly. When they’d discussed these things previously, Estela had always been vague-- which had always been accepted without hesitation; but it seemed something had changed.

Estela nodded. “I didn’t think I wanted a label, but then I thought… words have power. They can make you visible. I like who I am, how I love; a lot of people where I’m from struggle with that because for so long they had to hide. Visibility is important.”

“That’s my wife! Fighting the good fight and making the world less shit, one PDA at a time.” Taylor jumped to give Estela an enormous smooch, delighting in the happy squirm she caused.

“So, uh,” Estela tried to continue, whilst her love continued to pepper her face and neck with kisses, “basically, I just… find some people attractive. And I don’t think it would have mattered if Taylor was a guy or a girl or both or neither. She’s my person. It was a weird feeling, like something deep inside me knew.”

“Aw, ‘Stel!” Taylor gushed. “As for me? Basically, I’m gay as the day is long. Useless Lesbian: Alien Edition.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Zahra scoffed. “You’re a walking fucking stereotype. If there were U-Hauls on La Huerta, maybe you wouldn’t have even needed to get hitched after what… how many weeks? Three? Four?”

Diego was quick to swoop to his friend’s defence. “Hey! La Huerta rules apply! Way too much wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff to untangle.”

Quinn smiled warmly. It wasn’t the first time she’d been to one of these events, nor even the third or fourth, but to be surrounded by the friends who’d become her family made for a very different experience. She was not alone, dodging pitying whispers while she tried to embrace a side of herself that was so much more than ‘the dying girl’. And now, she had Michelle.

“Life can be over so fast; if you care for someone, there’s no shame in putting yourself out there and showing it.” She gave Michelle’s hand a squeeze, and they exchanged an affectionate glance. “Being trapped at the end of the world can do a lot to put things in perspective. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m living without regrets. Who I am is who I am; and that includes the pieces I wished I could hide from.”

Grace looked to her friend with admiration. “That’s very brave, Quinn. Sometimes accepting yourself can be the hardest thing.” Especially when the people you love can’t look at the true you and do the same. “Honestly, you’ve helped me a lot.”

Walking beside Diego, Varyyn was beginning to see why they called it ‘Pride’; he could feel it emanating from his husband, creating a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun beating down. And the smile on Diego’s face? Varyyn was sure he’d not ever seen anything quite so beautiful. Though careful not to peer to far out from his hood, he took the time to look over each of the different coloured flags and ask about each one. A young woman jogged past, wearing a cape of black, grey, white and purple-- the same design that was plastered across Raj’s shirt.

“Raj,” he queried, “ I believe Diego told me about your colours. It is for… ‘ace’? For no romantic partners?”

“You got it! Basically, I get all the love I need from my bros. I never really felt like anything was missing, you know?”

“I understand. It’s not something my people have a word for, though I know several friends who have always felt the way you do,” he said, thoughtfully. “So much of this we don’t have words for; we just… be. I appreciate your sharing with me. And I am very grateful to be one of your bros.”

The whole experience was vastly different to anything that could exist among the Vaanti. Sexuality and gender was of so little consequence; there had never been much weight put on words and labels, there were no expectations that it be necessary. By the generally agreed upon human terms, Varyyn supposed he might call himself ‘pansexual’ as Estela did. The rainbow flag, though, was his favourite. In it he saw the jubilation of making it through a storm to something beautiful. Appropriate it was, that it meant so much to Diego, as he stepped out unafraid and loved. Varyyn looked at Diego, his husband, the love of his life; surrounded by a wall of friends, laughing on Taylor’s shoulder. He was truly radiant.

Varyyn put a hand on Raj’s shoulder. “Could I ask a great favour of you?”

“A personal favour for the elyyshar of the Vaanti? I think I can swing that….”

Taylor was chuckling as she ruffled her best friend’s hair. “So, how is it? Everything you dreamed of-- if you’d even dreamed you’d have the Knights’ bi legend Sean Gayle as part of your pride posse?”

“Pretty sure Past Diego would think you’d hit your head too hard if you’d tried to tell him this was coming. I mean, the time travel, the monsters, my best friend being some sort of knockoff ET, are unbelievable enough, but these kind of squad goals…? I…” Suddenly, he found himself choking up. If it was a life-altering adventure, he’d got it. What was left at the end of it was something that could never be truly grasped by outsiders, some bond, sacred even, that had helped him find his own strength. As he struggled to come to grips with the tatters that remained of his family life, it was that strength that would keep him afloat, and that bond that would see his heart start to heal. “I… didn’t think this feeling was possible for me.”

And Taylor hugged him tight. “You’d better get used to it, because you’re stuck with us. You deserve this. Just for being you… and also for being the world’s best wingman. The best thing that ever happened to me happened because you helped me believe in taking a leap. Diego Soto, I will never not owe you one,” she laughed.”So, for my next trick, I will pass you off to someone who wants his arms around you even more than I do. You’re welcome.

With a wink, Taylor spun Diego into Varyyn’s waiting arms, which draped an enormous rainbow flag around the two of them.

“My love,” Varyyn crooned,  “you bring my world more beauty than I believed possible. You showed me hope and light in my darkest hour. Diego, you are my rainbow.”

Cloaked in a fluttering of multicoloured fabric, they kissed, long and tender; the pounding of music and marching, the chants of ‘Variego!’ fading far into the background, beyond their own private euphoric celebration.

Varyyn came away slowly, his expression warm as he stared into a look of fierce affection. How could he ever have dreamed what had been held in store for him, when this lion-hearted storyteller was beyond anything Vaanu had yet shown him. A whispered ‘I love you’ from his beloved Diego set his heart, once again, all aflutter, dancing like the rainbow flag around their heads. “And I love you.”He quirked an eyebrow. “Best Pride ever?”

Diego gave a short laugh and pecked a kiss to his love’s gentle lips. “Best Pride ever.”

[tetsuwan-atom]

Holy Grail War - Unraveling

(So, this is basically something I’ve been meaning to write for weeks. It’s in a specific verse about a specific event that had unfolded, that was plotted out between a few people. I have decided to give this event a bit of a ‘conclusion’ from the perspective of my muse and canon, to show how the story could have gone, how it could have ended.)

~~~~~~~~~~~

It really was like hell.

It looked like it, felt like it, like this was the most evil place, in all of existence.

Another dimension, another world but not at the same time. An experience that would burn into the retinas forever. A world in a world, like you had stepped into the end of it all.

And it really did seem like it was the end, of it all.

You never expected the Holy Grail to look like this. A beacon of such evil, of apocalyptic catastrophe. The very symbol that brought such chaos, time and time again, feeding upon the greed, the selfishness, of those who sought to use it to it’s truest potential.

But this individual wasn’t here for that.

This person had fought through the war. He had faced countless forces, foes, enemies. How many had to die? How many brought no other option to him, despite his attempts to make it out of the war without bloodshed?

A wishful outcome, that was doomed to perish.

The many he did save, those who joined him on the cause. Those he had to leave behind at the very end. Despite the pleas of those who tried to remain, he knew, he had to take care of this himself.

Because, there can only be one.

And here he stood. He stared evil right in the face, like it was his destiny to face this. There could have been others that would have taken his place, the sibling princesses, the spiky haired schoolboy, the Sorceress Supreme, but in the end he took his objective right to this moment.

He knew he had to take care of this himself.

Bowen Chuuno, The Mighty Atom.

He stared at the embodiment of the Holy Grail. He knew of it’s power, it’s energy, it’s deceit. How it calls out to him even now to turn back on all of his goals and make a wish he so deemed to come right from the heart.

But he knew better than to give in.

Hands gripped his IDND, a step forward in stance. He’s ready. He’s about to take the matters into his own.

To put an end to this.

For goo-

“Oh! There you are!”

Eyes widen in surprise. The male hesitates, stops, lowers his device. He’s not alone after all.

There is someone else here.

A voice, he recognises. A man he knows.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Adachi Shiro.

A supposed detective of the National Police Agency, sent to Academy City to investigate the concerns that were happening literally during the time of the Holy Grail War. A very strange coincidence. One that the male took with quite a bit of suspicion at that, despite his cheerful character.

He only turned his head, to the man in question.

“What are you doing here, Adachi? How did you get in?”

“What do you mean? I just walked through. I was asking your friends where you were and they pointed me here. I gotta admit they were all acting strange. They didn’t want to let me pass, but I needed to see you. They can’t just interfere with police business like that.”

Adachi had been Bowen’s ‘sidekick’ throughout the war. Of course Bowen couldn’t hide it from him when the fighting started getting bad. Even he knew better than to lie to a cop.

“I’m busy. What you require of me can wa-.”

“Hey.” The man interjected. “Is this the ‘grail’ you’ve been looking for? Kinda looks odd for a piece of metal, doesn’t it?”

In case your wondering, yes, this man does get on Bowen’s nerves... especially right now, though he knew to remain calm.

“...........Yes. This... is the Holy Grail.”

“Aahhhhhhhh! Well done! I knew you would be the one to make it! Them bad guys got nothing on you, huh?”

His smile is just... why does it irritate him so much?

“...I guess...”

“So, what you going to do, huh? You said it grants a wish, right? I bet you planned this right from the very beginning, what you wanted out of it. I can’t believe I’m here to witness a man’s dream finally being granted!”

“I’m not going to give it a wish, Adachi.”

“You’re... not?” He looks surprised, for sure. “But you came all this way. I was there as you kicked those guys butts for the good of the world. Why would you come all this way if you weren’t going to make a wish? Weren’t you going to do something for mankind? Weren’t you going to save it?”

Bowen hadn’t told Adachi of his intentions, because he didn’t feel the man needed to know. But now, right at the last moment, when he couldn’t hide it anymore, there was no reason to lie.

“I am going to do something for mankind, I am going to save it.....”

The blonde grips his IDND, as if readying himself a second time.

“....By destroying the grail for good..”

“....”

There was this... pause. A silence, an awkward silence. How long did it last for? Probably a good ten, fifteen seconds, before some form of response was found from the arrival.

“Hmmmmmhmhmhmhmhm...”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!”

...That was an unexpected reaction, one which actually brought the blonde to turn around and face the other, still serious, but with confusion now mixed into his features.

Why the hell was Adachi... laughing?

“You, you really think I’d actually let you destroy this artifact of grand power?!?”

“What... are you on about?”

“Come now. You’ve got a good brain, you can figure this all out. Am I really a cop? Why did I actually hang around you of all people while this shit was going down, huh?”

“......”

”You know. I found it really weird that you showed up out of nowhere right at the start of the war. Then when things started heating up you reeeeallly didn’t act like I’d expect out of a cop. It was like you weren’t too caring when people were driven to death. You were also acting very strange when certain things were going on. I had a feeling you were in this war all along.”

There was this pause, but in that moment, the expression on Adachi’s face began to change... no his FACE began to change. It turned.. paler... in colour.. and his eyes.. they were turning yellow. A sort of... sickly... unsettling yellow.

“....”

“Well it doesn’t matter in the end, does it? I got exactly what I wanted. I played you to ensure you were the one at the very end. Nobody else could match up to you anyway.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy with me! You know exactly why. Your reputation precedes you far more than what you understand about it! While everybody else was distracted I kept my eye on the real threat. They were so worried about that dumb boy and that girl.. and then the others. They were all so useless. ”

The man then begins to circle the blonde, in conversation.

“Right at the beginning my eyes were on you. But it was quite a ride, wasn’t it? You were so good at minimising the work we had to do, putting people on side, finding some way to drop them from the war without killing them. But man everybody was making it hard, wasn’t it? I almost took advantage of that situation when the lucky kid got sent away. Can you believe it, a fake marriage just for the war! I knew it meant shit at the end of the day. More people, more mess, a whole Kingdom trying to get in on the war, those two princesses asserting their dominance. Remember how you reacted at first? You didn’t like them intruding, didn’t you?”

“...I don’t like getting others involved. But they were here for the same goal. As long as the initial plan was followed there wouldn’t be any problems.”

“But the younger one was such a real bitch about it! Making it out that it wasn’t all about you. You didn’t want to be playing second fiddle as others meddled in your objective... I can relate, for they were meddling, in MY affairs!”

“I had to take a breather after all that. I left Academy City for a bit while you cleaned up the trash. Some ‘fighter’ chick caught me talking to myself one day. I tried to downplay it cause I didn’t want more people coming into it but.. the stupid bitch nearly got sucked into it! It would have been soooo funny, seeing a tourney fighter getting wrecked by some loaded-ass Servant! More junk for the janitors to mop up!”

“But then too... I was laughing at the beginning. You got paired with Stacia Sequenzia! An ‘Atomite’ helping another Atomite! The irony there is laughable! You even tried to put her on the sidelines too, but you know, Servants are there to help their masters! I wonder if you ever had to perform a Mana Transfer on her!”

A laugh escaped the man. He wasn’t looking for an actual answer.

“Then there was that guy who just muscled in just to fight everyone, he wasn’t even IN the war. What a waste of fuckin’ time. And the Makiris, the Einsworths. Those fools were all bickering and bitching and making a mess of things. I nearly lost my cover when the war was to move to England.. but I got to pull some... strings and keep it here where I wanted. They were all so concerned about the lucky kid. I was ‘lucky’ I didn’t get to see Violent Violet or that Crowley moron come around to the war. I got to focus my efforts on you while the families shat on about their supposed ‘vessel’.”

“...Vessel... you mean... Index?”

“You dumb piece of shit. Index. Please. Everyone looks at her like she’s a fucking meal. No. She is not their ‘vessel’. Come on, think. Think reeealll hard. Do you remember a girl that the idiot took under his wing?”

“Her... you mean.. Akatsuki Miyuki?!”

“Mmm! Strange isn’t it? They were going to use her as a vessel. Too bad it wouldn’t have worked. I wasn’t interested. I don’t give a shit about humans and homunculi anymore. None of them lived up to my expectations. I wouldn’t have even used your girl either. No, I only had one person on my mind. I got what I wanted in the end, didn’t I?”

“....That’s... me... isn’t it?”

“Oh. No duh, what do you think? Of course I mean you. The Mighty Atom! The one with the power to change it all! It had to be you. The boy would have just been a candy bar. Those two princesses? I would have just killed them the moment they tried to walk through into my space! It was ME that made you an initial participant, it was ME that got you through right until the end. I knew you weren’t going to risk the suffering of those around you because maybe deep down you knew it had to be you, that anyone else would have died one way or another. They all underestimate my power... even those influenced by gods.. but not you. You knew what I can do... you knew it had to be you.”

“....But then... what are you... if you wanted so much.. out of me?”

“...Do I need to spell it out for you, boy? I AM the Holy Grail!”

That.. that was a bombshell.. he didn’t see that coming at all.

“...Y..you...”

“Yes. Me. But I’m rather an extension of the beast, allowed to roam in a body that people could lower their guard around. Nobody ever expected the beast would grow intelligent, to form a mind of it’s own. I’ve seen it, I’ve seen how greedy and malicious humans can get, for peace and for power. I was never surprised by how much they wanted to take over everything for themselves... I always enjoyed it when they were the ones losing right at the end. And then there’s those that want a ‘utopia’, but still kill, still maim, like any life is a sacrifice for the good of others. And then I kill and maim them, an eye for an eye, along with many many others. I loved playing on their wishes, lulling them in, bringing out their true nature, leaving them vulnerable right at the moment I strike! In the end they all get absorbed... ready for the next war. But.... no matter how powerful they are, it’s never... ever enough..”

“I’m bored of this game, this charade. I’m sick and tired of prancing around in a shit body. It’s still fun to prey on the gullible but, I have always yearned for something far... far greater. What I am... what I really, really am, they never suspect what I can really, really do, what they were playing with from the start. The power they were using. They thought they could play god... for their sick, twisted gains! Through their sick, twisted means!”

“But now I’m actually going to become one... thanks to you.. I’m going to be born, properly born! I’m going to burst forth as the being I should have become in the very beginning. Humanity will crumble as I consume anything and everything. Mark my words this will be the last Grail War because of you. You soul will be used to complete the process... it will make me... me! There was truly no vessel greater than you! Even now I’ve been slowly draining your energy away to grow, to develop... oh isn’t this exciting! You’re going to be a part of multi-universal history, the end of everything! Nobody will get in my way! Your power will make everything happen at once! You, responsible for the end of it all. The beginning and the end, death for life, the rise and the fall! Everybody shall die, your friend, your girl, your family, everything and everyone... and you will be the sacrifice that starts it all! It’s inevitable, boy. You cannot fight what has already happened, what was lead to happen. The game of cat and mouse is over. This is your fate. This is my fate. The less you struggle.. the easier it will be, for both of us!”

...Boy... this was a lot to take in. A LOT to take in.. and he didn’t even have the time to process it all, not when he was actually being affected right now. Inhale, exhale, carefully, gently. Remain composed.. then face the man head on.

“Adachi.”

"You know, as well as I do, I'm not going to willingly give in to you and just let this happen. You know what I am, what I do.. and what I'm going to be doing right here, right now. Your words have further influenced me in the belief that the Grail must be destroyed. And it will be destroyed. I made that promise to everyone, to Camellia, to Academy City, to my world, to Touma... to my beloved. I had an inkling I might have been targeted, that if I wasn't the one doing it, I'd be made to do it. I always had this feeling in the back of my mind that if I let others try ahead of me that they were only going to die in the end... turns out I was right."

His eyes began to glow. The usual process, close the eyes, then open them with sparks flying.

"So rather than causing more death, rather than beating around the bush, I'm going to take the matters as I was always planning to do. This was always my fight, because I was always the target. You wanted me. You have me... but man I'm not going to give up until I have no breath left. I have done so much for the multiverse, for Academy City. I never thought I'd be in a position where it all hinged in the balance like this. I know the stakes... I know what I must do. Whatever it takes, you will be destroyed for good, so that nobody can use you... so that you... can no longer use anybody. I won't let you live. I will not bring your birth. If I have to erase your very soul and existence to end this, then so be it."

“.... Well, so much for making this easy. I had a feeling your resolve was too great to kneel before me. No matter..”

“....But then there is no harm in having one last bit of fun before the next stage of life! And it would be better to wear down your.. rambunctiousness to make it easier for me to devour. Do not underestimate me... either way.. this.. will be your end!”

...And as the darkness swelled, the blonde readied his IDND again, at the man, at the embodiment of the Holy Grail. If this was to be his final fight, so be it.

This... would be the very fight that decides the fate of everything.

Of Academy City, of the multiverse, of everything.

So it shall be.

Game on.......

[angelic-holland]

Hang the Stars // TMO imagine

“Because what’s worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?” - James Patterson

“I’ll take care of you.”

“It’s rotten work.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

- Anne Carson, Euripides

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, mentions of mob activity, fluffy fluff

Summary: Three Months and 14 days. That’s how long Harrison has loved you. That’s how long he’s known he can never have you like he wants you. Three months and 14 days is a dreadfully long time to love someone who will never love him back. 

A/N: Hi! This is a little short of the reader’s time with Ian and Harrison and the Irish mob. This can sort of work as a stand alone fic but works better after reading the first 13 chapters of Take Me Out! This is from Harrison’s perspective aka the reader is ‘her’. As always, feedback through reblogs and asks are always appreciated and encouraged if you’re part of my taglist! Let me know what you think about this little piece! 

The worst part of falling in love is the pain when you hit the ground. 

That isn’t how Harrison feels sitting in the meeting room of Ian’s brownstone when the doorbell rang. He feels calm with the slightest bit of excitement because he’s finally allowed to sit in on meetings. 

Nobody rings the doorbell here. All of Ian’s men knocked, a special knock to let Ian know that it was them.

So Harrison sat in his seat right by the head of the table where Ian usually sits while Ian draws a gun, stalking toward the front door. 

He can’t see anything, neither can any of the other men in the room, but they can hear her. 

At first, Dewey jokes that it’s a girl that Ian knocked up, here to collect child support.

Russell shuts him up with a glare, “probably just a girl scout or something.”

“It’s nine at night,” Harrison says, straining to hear what Ian was saying to whoever was standing at the door. 

There’s a shrill cry that makes all of the men at the table widen their eyes.

“Don’t touch me!” 

Then Ian’s voice is soothing and attempting to comfort the girl, whoever she may be. 

There’s a rumbling and Harrison swears it’s thunder but he can’t help the next words that slip out of his mouth, “everything okay?” 

A sob ripples through the near silent house. 

Harrison stands up, about to leave the room when Russell stops him.

“This isn’t your business.”

“It might be-,”

“Just wait, patience, boy,” Dewey sneers.

Harrison sits back down, mumbling under his breath about leaving him the fuck alone.

The men sit in silence as they hear Ian walking around the house, making a few phone calls.

“Check in on the place, that’s right, rented to Adeline Park, I want an update by tomorrow morning.”

Adeline Park. Maybe that’s the girl who showed up at the door. It has to be. 

Several minutes later, Ian steps back inside the room, trying to push the franticness out of his voice.

“Meeting dismissed, we’ll pick up tomorrow morning. Harrison, go out and get food, real food, fruits and vegetables, shit like that.”

Harrison isn’t going to question it at this point, “right away, boss.”

He stands up and buttons his suit jacket, following the rest of the men out of the house before Ian grabs his arm.

“Don’t let them get you caught up in their rumor mill, I’m taking care of an old friend,” Ian says, voice low so the last of the men exiting the house don’t hear him.

“Course, boss, I’ll be right back.” 

Harrison is nosy, it’s not something he’s exactly proud of, but with his job, it comes with the territory. 

That’s why he searches for an Adeline Park on Facebook. A dozen or so results show up. He didn’t catch a glimpse of her face, so he scrolls through each result, each profile, wondering if this was the girl who showed up on his bosses doorstep, completely throwing him for a loop.

He buys a lot of food, probably too much, but he had no idea what Ian wanted other than fruits and vegetables, he swears he almost buys out the entire store. After unloading all of the food into the cabinets and fridge, he makes his way upstairs. 

He hears Ian and her talking, Adeline, her voice is weak but anxious as Ian tries to soothe her. He almost doesn’t want to interrupt, to break into their precious moment. But Harrison is nosy, so he does anyway. 

“It is though, you take bad people and you get rid of them. You kill people who deserve to be killed.”

Harrison’s eyes widen at Ian’s words. So she isn’t just an old flame. Or perhaps she is, Ian’s circle consists mainly of mobsters and murderers. So it’s possible she is a killer and an old flame. What better person for a murderer than another murderer? 

Harrison took off his suit jacket, leaning against the door as he watches her, her hair in a messy ponytail, eyes puffy, bruises encircling her throat. He wonders who could hurt someone as beautiful as her.

“Boss.”

“Harrison, she’s going to be staying in the guest room with you for a little bit. Is that okay?”

“Course, boss, groceries are downstairs, all set away.”

“Great, sweetheart, I’ve got to make a few phone calls but if you need anything, Harrison can help you, okay?”

“He’s uh, he’s good?” 

Her voice is terrified, it’s a trembling whisper and she doesn’t want Harrison to hear but he does. 

“He’s the best,” Ian says before he stands up, giving Harrison a look before leaving him alone with the girl who clearly didn’t trust anyone.

What the fuck is Harrison supposed to do? To say? She reminds him of a scared cat, drawing in on herself as he steps forward into the room completely. 

“Hi, uh, name’s Harrison,” He says, wanting to smack himself, he drops his coat on his bed and walks toward her, sticking his hand out.

Right, because the way to look non threatening to her is to stick your hand out when the last man who did that was the one who gave her all of those bruises. 

She is hesitant as he holds his hand out, and right before he’s about to drop it, she meekly shakes his hand. 

“Y/N.”

So not Adeline.

She drops his hand almost as quickly as she shakes it.

“Well, y/n, you’re free to borrow my clothes anytime, definitely look better on you than me.”

Damn it Harrison.

The last thing this girl wants, or needs, is someone flirting with her. 

“Sorry, that was uh, stupid of me.”

She giggles and Harrison feels light headed. 

“It’s okay, uh, you been with Ian long?”

“No, a few months. We met while he was back in Ireland.” 

“So are you his uh, next in command?” She asks as Harrison begins to get ready for bed.

“Sort of, if I show I can do well under pressure. How much do you know about Ian?”

He’s curious about which part of Ian’s past she’s from. 

“Just that he’s the Irish mob leader here, and uh, you’re not Irish.”

Her tone is almost accusatory, like Harrison isn’t supposed to be here. But she digresses, somewhat caging herself off to his response as she sets the plate down and gently touches her neck, wincing as her fingers touch the bruises.

“You shouldn’t, you know, touch that, I can get you some ice if you want, I’ll just go change and then grab an ice pack,” Harrison says, not waiting for a response before gathering up his pajamas and leaving her alone. 

Ian is talking downstairs after Harrison changed and he becomes quiet as Harrison enters the kitchen.

“Just grabbing her an ice pack,” Harrison says, grabbing one from the freezer and wrapping it in a dish towel.

“She’s got some problems, Harrison, you won’t be able to fix her.”

“I wasn’t planning on trying to-,”

“It’s okay son, I’m sure you only want to help. But I think she’ll just need time.”

“Oh, sure, of course,” Harrison nods, “but Ian, do you think she’d, I mean, do you know who hurt her?”

Ian shakes his head, “that’s what I’m trying to find out, I haven't seen her in five years. She drove here from fucking Idaho. I guess she didn’t really have anyone else to go to.” 

Harrison nods, swallowing the lump in his throat as he makes his way back upstairs. He wonders who could have hurt her so badly she drove across the country to someone she hasn’t seen in over half a decade.

“Hey, I uh, I got you an ice pack,” he says, watching her roll over in the blue sheets, her eyes red, cheeks swollen from crying.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, holding her hand out for the ice.

When he hands it to her, he swears electricity crackles under his fingertips when they touch her hand. She withdraws almost immediately.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says, turning back toward the wall, not letting Harrison look at her properly as she rests the ice pack against her neck.

“Like what?” Harrison asks, slightly confused as he sits down in his own bed, wanting to give her as much distance as she needs.

“Like I’m a lost puppy someone just kicked to the curb. Like you’re sorry for me, like you’re some guy who sees a girl that’s broken and wants to piece me back together. I’m Humpty fucking Dumpty, you’re not putting me back together again.”

Harrison figures the best thing to do is let her vent.

“I didn’t think you’re Humpty Dumpty.”

“Right, next you’re going to tell me you would never hurt me and that you’d never do anything to put me at risk.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Harrison says, laying down.

“The last person who said that, did this,” she turns and takes away the ice pack, her throat definitely swollen past it’s normal size. 

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me about him, whoever did that, but I would never do that, never touch you like that-,”

“Just- don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

The realization that Y/N doesn’t trust him, doesn’t trust anyone, because the man who did that most definitely wasn’t the first person who has hurt her like that, sits on Harrison’s chest like a stack of bricks.

Taking care of her, being her keeper or her babysitter or whatever wasn’t his goal or intention after the first night, but since then, that’s all Harrison has ever done. And he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind one bit. 

For the first time in his life, Y/N gave Harrison what he felt was a purpose, a reason for being more than his typical self.

And isn’t that the cruelest sort of love? The love you feel for someone so broken that industrial strength glue can’t piece them together, the love that no matter how hard and how fiercely you love, they’ll never be quite able to reciprocate it?

***

There are bad nights, nights where she wakes up screaming for someone, crying out for the person who hurt her. He buries the name in his subconscious, never gaining the courage to ask her about this Tom character who invaded her peaceful sleep.

During the first two weeks she hardly got any sleep, and that keeps Harrison up as well. There are moments when she’ll stare at him and he’d stare right back, her eyes the only thing visible in the dark room. A beacon of hope for someone lost at sea. 

And then she climbs into his bed. They’re both restless on this September night, now morning if Harrison is being technical. 2am. 

“I uh, I was hoping I might sleep better if I, well, if I sleep next to you,” her voice is soft and her eyes wide as Harrison nods, patting the spot next to him. The bed is small, no doubt that they’d have to lay practically on top of each other to not fall off. So with a gentle nod from Harrison, she curls up next to him, her head on his chest and her legs practically on top of his. 

That night Harrison has slept better than he has in years.  In fact, Y/N and Harrison looked so peaceful that when Ian went to check on them the next morning, he didn’t wake them up. Finally both of them got a full nights sleep without screaming, without fear of what tomorrow may bring. Finally it seems both of them are at peace.

***

When she kisses Harrison for the first time, about a month after she arrived, he swore he was dreaming. They’ve kissed plenty of times in Harrison’s dreams, but each time he feels like he’s betraying the real Y/N.

They’re lying in bed, Harrison has an arm around her shoulder, only after she gave him explicit permission to do so. She’s cradling his face like it’s a glass vase, her eyes searching for the blooming flowers beneath his fragile exterior. Maybe poppies or brunneras. Nothing can quite match his shade of blue. 

“Can I?” She asks, her eyes focused on the short sharp breaths forming on Harrison’s lips.

He nods, waiting for the dream to end, to wake up and be reminded this isn’t real. 

Her lips brush against his and she waits for him to reciprocate before moving further. She’s warm against him, almost burning up or maybe that’s his heart? Harrison can’t tell, in fact he feels light headed and his stomach twists into a knot as he kisses her back. Her lips are so soft, and she tastes like his mint toothpaste, the one she uses now, since they’ve gotten in the habit of brushing their teeth together. 

He pulls away, only because he’s sure he’s stopped breathing, “pinch me.”

It makes her laugh, it’s melodic and Harrison closes his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, soaking up each note.

“You’re not dreaming,” she murmurs, her lips finding his again. 

“Pinch me anyway,” he mumbles against her lips, he can’t find it in him to pull away. 

She gently pinches his cheek and he waits to wake up. But he doesn’t. Tonight they don’t sleep much, random thoughts and words are shared between soft kisses, never moving further than a gentle hand on cheek, soft skin against skin. 

Neither of them mind as she traces his cheekbone, the moonlight cutting across his skin and illuminating every imperfection. 

“Thank you, for everything.”

She doesn’t need to say it. She doesn’t need to thank him. 

“Don’t thank me,” he says as she snuggles into his chest, her hair tickling his chin.

“I don’t know why you do it, why you take care of me. I’m sure you’d much rather be out with Ian and the rest of them-,”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Harrison cuts her off and he watches as she turns in his arms, her eyes wandering to the window, staring up at the moon, the stars. He wonders if she feels the same way. 

“Don’t say that just because-,” 

“I’ve never lied to you,” Harrison murmurs, his arm rests against her shoulder and for a half a second he thinks she flinches, but she relaxes almost immediately.

“It’s rotten work,” she huffs, laughing low in her throat.

“What is?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m poison, draining the life out of everyone around me. I don’t want you to be as lifeless as me. It’s rotten work being around a person like me.”

“Well, unless you’re planning on killing me…” he’s joking, for the most part. 

“No! I wouldn’t, I couldn’t,” she mumbles, the sky is forgotten as she turns back around, resting her hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“You know, it’s not rotten work, caring for you. I don’t think I could ever get tired of spending time with you.”

“Liar.”

“I’m anything but. I just wish you’d believe me.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

He wants to ask, he wants to ask why she doesn’t think she’s worth every single second he spends with her. He wants to cradle her face in his hands as gently as she cradled his. He wants to whisper, he wants to shout that she’s worth it, she’s so god damn worth it that he can’t see himself doing anything else but share the same twin size bed with her for the rest of his life. 

But by now, he can tell when she’s feeling drained, emotionally, mentally, physically.

She needs to sleep, and she isn’t going to listen to anything else that he plans on saying. So he tucks those words back into his mind and lets her sleep.  

***

Their life isn’t perfect, it’s far from it. Especially on days Y/N is so depressed she can’t get out of bed. There are days when she’s downright mean and it forces Harrison to take a step back and realize that she’s been through some stuff, she’s seen some shit, and she has every right to get upset and angry at the world. Besides, the world is a cruel place, and it sometimes feels that she is their sole target. 

He does things to try to brighten her up, whether it be getting her favorite cannoli from Mike’s Pastry or a smoothie from a local farmer’s market. Today he brought her both, because before he left, she was yelling about how useless it was to be here and how she wishes she was back in Idaho. 

“Y/N?” Harrison calls out, climbing the stairs two at a time with the food and a gift. 

He hears the shower going and calls out to her, resting his head on the bathroom door. 

She doesn’t answer and immediately his mind flies to worse case scenarios. 

To her taking her anger and depression and turning it inward on herself, so much so that she can’t come back from it.

“Y/N!” Harrison shouts, voice unsteady as he opens the door. He doesn’t want to invade her privacy, but he will just to make sure that the worst case scenario he built up isn’t coming true.

Normally there’s a shadow of the person showering on the shower curtain. But as Harrison sets everything aside he finds Y/N’s shadow curled up in the corner, the water almost drowning out her cries.

“Y/N, darling, are you okay?” Harrison asks, kneeling down at the edge of the tub, hesitant to push back the curtain.

“I can’t breath,” she gasps and no matter how much of a gentleman Harrison is, he can’t sit outside the tub and not check on her now.

“Y/N, I’m going to open the curtain, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m a monster,” she shouts as Harrison pulls back the curtain, revealing her crying form.

“What?” Harrison asks, watching her continue to shake.

“I- I’m here, I ran from my problem and he, he’s dead because of me, I’m a monster,” she sobs, the water starting to prune her skin.

Harrison has absolutely no idea what Y/N is talking about, but he knows one thing for sure, that something happened to her or because of her that has changed her forever.

“Come on Y/N, we can talk about this if you want, but you need to get out of the shower, need to get dried off,” Harrison reaches over to grab her arm but she pulls away violently, quivering at the thought of his touch.

He stands up, turning the water off, it’s scalding and he wonders how she hasn’t practically burnt her skin off yet.

He waits a moment for her to come out, grabbing a towel from the closet and standing at the edge of the tub.

“Y/N…”

“Just leave me alone! You should hate me! I don’t-,” she starts as Harrison leans down, trying to pick her up.

“Go away!” She screams, batting at his hands as he tries to, at this point drag her out of the bath if he has to.

“No, Y/N, you have to understand, please, please understand I’m not going anywhere,” Harrison pleads as he struggles with what to do now.

Fuck it, if she won’t get out of the tub, he’ll join her. So that’s what Harrison does, clothes and all, sitting behind her and drawing her body against his as she sobs. She doesn’t resist him however, and that’s the most important part of this exchange. He just wants her to feel safe, like he’s the one person she can feel safe with.

“It’s okay,” he brushes back her wet hair as she cries until her breathing levels out and there aren’t anymore tears left to cry.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“This kid, Harry, he uh, he was in a coma. And Jake, Jake killed him. This innocent kid who never did anything wrong in his life. Jake killed him to get back at me, to get back at Tom.”

“Why is that your fault then, darling?” Harrison asks as he begins wringing out her hair, not a care in the world that his clothes are now completely soaked as well.

“Because, if I didn’t get involved with T-T-Tom, then Jake would have no reason to try to put him in his place like that! If I didn’t put my stupid fucking heart out like that, this wouldn’t have happened!”

Harrison doesn’t have the courage to ask if she meant the two of them.

“Is that why you came looking for Ian?”

“Tom he- he blamed me for Harry’s death. And he- I never thought he was capable of hurting me until that moment. And I couldn’t- I couldn’t stay while he was so angry like that. He would’ve killed me. But maybe I deserve that.”

“No, hey, look at me,” Harrison pleads, his heart literally aching in his chest as she stares back at him with trembling lips and tear tracks down her cheeks.

“What? How can you know who I am and not think I deserve to die?”

“Did you kill this kid with your own two hands?”

She shakes her head no, so Harrison continues.

“So you kill bad people. You didn’t kill this kid, so you need to get into that mindset. You need to see yourself how I see you.”

“I feel like I’m a rain cloud or a fucking black hole, just sucking the life out of everything.”

“You’re anything but,” Harrison tries to reassure her.

“Don’t lie to me just to make me feel better.”

“Okay, you might be a rain cloud. But more than that, you’re an entire day’s worth of weather. And what happens after a rain?”

She sniffles but doesn’t respond, so Harrison pulls out the small velvet black box he wasn’t expecting to give her until later tonight. His jeans are soaking wet and it makes it harder to grab, but when he does, his hand is shaking harder than Y/N is. 

“You know, when I was a kid and I was having a bad day, my mum used to sing this song for me,” Harrison opens the box and holds the necklace up to show her.

“What is this?” She asks, her fingers curling around the sun pendant. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.”

***

It’s been almost four months since Y/N showed up on Ian’s doorstep. Harrison wants to celebrate the small strides she’s making by cooking her breakfast. Tomorrow they’re supposed to go stake out a hit that Harrison will be running, and Ian is letting Y/N go with him. 

“What’re you making?” Y/N asks, sleepily rubbing her eyes as she sits at the kitchen counter.

“Pancakes,” Harrison smiles, flipping one over before turning back to Y/N. 

She has tears in her eyes that she quickly tries to hide. She’s not fast enough. Harrison often catches her before she can hide her emotions from him. She isn’t sure if she appreciates this ability of his, but he’s always able to calm her down when she gets worked up. 

“Okay, if you don’t like pancakes, darling, we don’t have to have them,” Harrison quickly turns off the stove and walks around the counter, holding his arms out for her. 

He always waits for her to make the first move. To pull him into a hug, to sleep by his side, to kiss him. He would never want her to feel pressured into anything, make her feel like she’s required to reciprocate what he wants to give to her. 

She buries herself inside his arms, her body shaking with sobs. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” Harrison sings lightly, feeling her slowly bring herself back to reality and out of whatever dark space pancakes seemed to send her to. “Sing with me, darling,” he murmurs as he rubs her back, “you make me happy when skies are grey.”

Her voice is thick with tears but she continues along with him, “you’ll never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.”

“So no pancakes?” Harrison asks hesitantly as she sits back down.

“I, uh, I prefer waffles,” she sniffles, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“Waffles it is.”

After work, Harrison buys a waffle maker and all the ingredients he needs to cook up the best waffle recipe he can find. The look in Y/N’s eyes when he sets up the waffle maker is enough to make Harrison melt into a puddle on the floor like a schoolboy whose crush notices him. 

“Please tell me you like your waffles sweet,” Harrison pulls out a can of whipped cream from the fridge, raising an eyebrow at Y/N. 

She nods eagerly, “what’s a waffle without maple syrup and whipped cream?”

Harrison chuckles as she takes the plate and can from him, loading the waffle with whipped cream. 

“God, I love you.”

Maybe he didn’t mean for those words to slip out, but they did. They’ve been stuck in his throat for three months now, ever since the first night she crawled into his bed and asked him to hold her. 

The whipped cream can cuts off, filling the kitchen with a silence that absolutely shatters Harrison’s heart.

She doesn’t need to say anything. Her face, shocked with slight confusion, mouth wide open and eyebrows pinched together, tells him everything he needs to know. 

“Why?” She can’t even look at him as she begins to cut into her food.

“What do you mean why? Why do I love you?”

She nods as she begins to eat, still not meeting his eyes.

“You showed up when I was beginning to doubt joining Ian, don’t tell him that though. And you were closed off. Mean and cranky, and I mean, you still are-,”

“Hey!” She scowls, flicking a bit of whipped cream at him.

“The face you make when you’re mad is really cute. But even when you put on the grumpiest face, I know that you care a lot, about Ian, about the people in your life.”

“About you.”

“Hmm?” Harrison has to pinch himself, wondering if he is truly hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

“I care about you,” she says, shoveling more of the waffle into her mouth before she stands up, the chair scraping against the floor.

“You care about me?” Harrison asks, watching her nervously pick at the fingernail of her thumb, nodding as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I know you want me to say that I- that I-, fuck I’m sorry, but I can’t. And you know if I said it right now, it would only be because of what you said, because of how you feel. And you deserve someone who can say that back because it’s true, because she has no reservations and shitty feelings and emotional shortcomings.” 

“But I’ll stay, through your shitty feelings and your emotional shortcomings.”

“Don’t know why,” she mumbles. 

“You’re worth it, Y/N, don’t you see how incredibly fucking worth it you are?”

“I’m worth it?” She asks, as if she is discovering this for the first time as well.

“You’re so fucking worth it, there aren’t enough words in the dictionary or our time on this earth to tell you how worth it you are.”

***

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Harrison asks as he brushes hair out of her eyes, kissing her forehead before sitting up to get a good look at her, watching the way her hands start to shake.

“Kiss me like you hate me.”

He’s confused, because he figured this might be the night she decides to go further with him, to share a part of herself he wasn’t sure he’s ever seen. But why would she ask him to kiss her like that? 

Aggressively? 

“What do you-,”

“I don’t want you to make love to me, I- I can’t make love to you.”

“Darling I’m not going to kiss you like I hate you, I don’t hate you, I couldn’t hate you.” 

“You should hate me,” she sobs, curling in on herself as Harrison lays down next to her, pulling her into his chest.

“No, darling, it’s okay, shhh, I couldn’t hate you, darling, you could be the wicked witch of the west and I’d still look at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Maybe that’s why you’re cranky, you’ve spent so long bringing light to everyone else, you never saved any for yourself. What’s wrong?”

“Nobody’s ever, well except- and I can’t, I just can’t,” she continues to cry, her tears soaking his shirt as he runs a hand through her hair.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything, I would be perfectly content with you in my arms, just laying here,” Harrison assures her, keeping her as calm as he could even when he felt like his world simply didn’t make sense. 

“I’ve killed people, you know.”

“I know,” Harrison says, calm and even.

“Lots of people.”

“Bad people.”

She shifts around in his arms, facing him. Her breath is shaky as he wipes the tears from her face and kisses her forehead.

“You gave people light by taking bad people out of their lives.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m a bad person,” she sniffles as Harrison brings his lips along her face, kissing every single inch of skin. 

“There’s such a blurred line between good and bad, right and wrong. How many people have you saved by killing murderers? By killing rapists?”

She shrugs and it shocks Harrison how she can’t see what he sees. 

“Too many to count. And tomorrow you’re getting back in the game, staking out the new hit with me. It’ll be fun but if you’re uncomfortable, we stop, got it?”

“Got it,” she nods, letting his warmth calm her down and lull her to sleep.

***

“Y/N, when was the uh, last time you had your period?” Harrison asked, wondering how long it typically took for someone to start showing. 

“What? Uh two months and uhh 20 days ago,” her eyes widened and she stopped about five feet short of the brownstone, turning to Harrison, “I’m not, it’s uh, it’s the stress.”

***

It’s been a week and a half since Y/N left Harrison on the curbside dreaming of children and a life together. It’s been a week and a half and all Harrison has been able to do is dream of her, growing old with her, a kid, as many kids as she wants. He dreams of a life where he can play catch or push them on the swing set. It’s a stupid dream, especially now that she’s gone. She promised to check in, but it’s been absolute and complete radio silence since she left.

Most days Ian doesn’t ask much of him, understanding how torn up Harrison is after she left. Today was one of those days where Harrison sits in bed drinking straight from a bottle of expensive rum and stares at his phone, at her contact photo. It’s the only photo of her that he has. He took it one day while they were drinking hot chocolate at this small bakery in the North End. She has a whipped cream mustache and is flushing as Harrison holds his phone up, snapping a cheeky picture. She protested at first but he insisted that it could be used for his lockscreen. She immediately stole a picture of him as well, head tilted back in a laugh. He wonders if it’s still her lockscreen.

As if by some twist of fate, maybe his luck is finally turning around, his phone rings. And it’s Y/N.

He’s so excited he spills the remaining bottle of rum as he tries to set it down on the counter. But that could wait. Y/N couldn’t.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Harrison says, choking back tears as her ragged voice greets him on the other end.

“Haz?” There’s a short pause and several sharp breaths before she continues.

“I need you, Harrison. I made a huge mistake.”

***

Taglist (removed anyone who hasn’t interacted w the fic sorry I don’t want to type out a bunch of urls and have nobody interact; if you want to be added back message me!):  @gioandreolli   @honeymoonparker @itsjusttor @averyfosterthoughts @worldoftom @angelhaz11 @rebekkah4766   

[star-spangled-eyes]

Dirty Mind: Part 3: Love Hurts

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. Some dialogue and events in Book 1 of TRR are property of Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Drake’s perspective  

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this miniseries: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, angst, sex (including character’s thoughts and innuendos)

Masterlist

A/N: I wrote this miniseries in the first person perspective of Drake Walker. It follows events in Book 1 of TRR, but not everything is as you’d remember it from the story. Some things have been altered to better fit this fanfic.

I really enjoyed getting into the brain of Drake, and I hope you like it too. He’s a stud, and I love his sexual, angsty mind.

Enjoy the conclusion! Thanks for reading!

Word Count for this chapter: 6144

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04 @pedudley @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker @kingliam2019 @loveellamae @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020 @indiana-jr​ @yukinagato2012​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​

The next day I drove my truck to Ramsford earlier than I was scheduled to. Maxwell called me, frantic and desperate for help getting the estate prepped before the rest of court showed up the following day. Apparently their staff took the day off unbeknownst to the Brothers Beaumont, and there was a ton of shit to do.

Normally, I’d say no, but I’d grown closer to Maxwell over the past couple months and felt bad for the guy. Not to mention Bragnae would be there. I was excited to see her, but after I came back down to earth from my pleasured high of being with Bragnae, I realized what we’d done.

I couldn’t shake the doom and gloom feeling I had since this morning. I betrayed my best friend to be with his girl. I lost all sense and control and I shouldn’t have. I should have been stronger than that. I had plenty of opportunities to leave her room last night that I chose to ignore. I was a shitty friend. And worse yet, Liam didn’t even know. The poor guy had no clue I even liked her let alone that we shared an intimate experience last night.

How the fuck am I going to tell him? He’ll hate me forever. We didn’t technically have sex. Maybe he’ll be more forgiving of that. I sighed in disgust at myself. Who am I kidding? We both kissed, grinded and moaned our way to incredible orgasms that we both needed and craved from each other. Goddamn it.

When I arrived at the Beaumont estate, Bertrand told me to help Maxwell in the kitchen, so I headed there. I stepped into the room to see him and Bragnae standing across from each other with a counter in between them as they worked on what I assumed was a caviar appetizer. I’d been to enough of these fancy parties to recognize the pretentious delicacy all the nobles went nuts over.

“I’m here. What do you need me to do?”

“Drake! Oh, thank God!” Maxwell shouted. “Thanks for coming to help out.”

“Hey, Drake,” Bragnae said with a smile.

I gave her a side smirk and a quick nod, not wanting to make a big deal about it in front of Maxwell. I couldn’t trust myself around her now. Even if I smiled in her direction, I’d give myself away. I needed to get my head wrapped around the situation before I was ready to talk about it. No one could know until I talked to Liam.

I felt like an ass because I didn’t want her to feel like I changed my mind about her. Because I still very much cared for her. If given the choice of having Bragnae by my side or a bottle of cold water in a hot desert, I’d choose her every damn time. But, I failed as a best friend, and I needed to make that right despite my own happiness.

Maxwell typed something on his phone quickly before shoving it back in his pocket. “Bertrand said we have caterers for the rest of the food for tomorrow. Whew! Drake, why don’t you help me make the rest of these Jewels of the Sea as I’m calling them, and Bragnae, could you go help Bertrand with the cleaning?”

Dodged a bullet there. Even though I’d love to stand here and look at her, smelling her sweet perfume, it’s probably best she go somewhere else in the house.

“Sure thing!” She walked around the counter, and brushed her hand across my lower back as she left the kitchen. I hesitated, but watched her leave anyway. She had turned back and smiled at me before leaving the room.

I sighed and got back to work while Maxwell jabbered on like a monkey in a tree.

Later, I found myself arranging goddamn flowers in glass vases for the dining room. Me. Arranging flowers. I sighed. How the fuck do I get myself into these situations?

I heard Bertrand telling Bragnae to help me with the center pieces, and my heart skipped a beat. Goddamn it. I already missed her. It had been a few hours since I’d seen her around. Part of me wanted to pull her in close and never let go, but the other part of me wanted to keep my distance. Keeping her near would only hurt more in the long run. Fuck. I hated how complicated this got all of a sudden.

“Hey, Drake. I didn’t know you had a knack for arranging flowers like this.”

I kept my eyes on the vase in front of me as I responded. “Yeah, who knew? The things I do for you people.”

“Seems to me that you have a lot of hidden talents we all aren’t aware of. I wonder what else you can do.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her face tilted up to me with a bright smile. I had to look at her otherwise she’d suspect I was ignoring her.

So I did. Goddamn, she was pretty. I scoffed a laugh. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” Wait and see? When, idiot? You’re supposed to push her away, not give her little pieces of hope to cling to. I’m so bad at this.

“Well, I can’t wait.” She touched my arm. Her warmth sent a tingle down my spine. My heart beat faster and my breath quickened. All from one little touch. Jesus Christ.

“Lady Bragnae!” Bertrand shouted from across the room.

Startled, she whipped around to face him. “Yes?”

“Come here for a moment, please.”

Bragnae darted off to Bertrand, and I could breathe again. I needed a moment or two to myself. Now was my chance to sneak off. I quietly left the dining room and headed down the hall to the study. I shut the door behind me, and leaned against the wall. No sooner did I close my eyes did I hear the sound of high heels clicking down the hallway.

I sighed. Damn it. I opened the door as the footsteps approached to see Bragnae fill the door frame. She beamed as soon as she saw me.

“Hi! Can I come in?” She was incredibly enthusiastic, and too charming to deny. Shit.

“Of course.” I stepped aside and invited her in the study before closing the door behind her.

“Are you hiding out in here?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, this is perfect because I wanted to talk to you. First things first…” She said before reaching up to kiss me. No matter how much I tried to push her away, as soon as her lips hit mine, I couldn’t turn her down. I was an addict and her kisses were the drug. After a drawn out moment, she pulled back. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her. “Me too.” It was the sad truth I couldn’t deny.

She rested her hands on my chest as she continued. “I decided I’m going to tell Liam that I’m withdrawing from the Social Season.”

“Why?” I kept my hands on her hips because I couldn’t resist not touching her.

“Because I want to be with you, Drake. Last night was amazing. I woke up with a big smile on my face this morning, and it won’t go away. I think about you all the time, and I’m always searching the crowd for your face. I’m so happy when I’m with you. And finding out that you also cared about me was like a dream come true.”

Her words humbled me. But how could she feel so strongly for me when she had Liam? “I’m glad to hear that I make you happy. Last night was… incredible for me as well. But maybe you shouldn’t make this decision now. Liam really likes you. I know he wants to pick you as his bride.” I cringed at the thought.

“I know, Drake. And that’s why I have to tell him before his coronation, so he’s not humiliated in front of the entire court when I decline his proposal.”

She was really set on this, but she wasn’t being practical. “I have nothing to offer you, Bragnae.” I couldn’t help the sadness that fell over my face.

“Drake, believe it or not, I didn’t come here to be queen. Going through all of this made me realize that I’m not really cut out for the job anyway. I’m independent, impatient, and sarcastic. I’m not very diplomatic either. I will always say what’s on my mind, and I don’t want to screw up something big for the country because of who I am. I truly have no interest in it.” She paused. “When Maxwell invited me to Cordonia, I was looking for an adventure to reignite my life. And I said yes because I also wanted to fall in love.”

That word. I drew back slightly, stunned a bit if I was being honest. I swallowed as I focused more intently on her face. “And did you?” I didn’t know what I wanted her answer to be. I cared for her very deeply, but was it love? My feelings for her were more than I’ve ever felt for anyone else. I wasn’t sure it was love, but I knew it was more than a crush.

Love was deep. Love was a commitment. Love was special. I’d never been in love before. It was never something I saw happening for myself even though I hoped to someday. With my life dedicated to Liam, there wasn’t time for relationships. Or maybe I just didn’t care to engage in them. Just one night stands. Sometimes even dragging some of those out to three or four dates if the sex was good.

“I’ll let you know.” She smiled at me. “I have to tell him sometime this weekend while we’re still in Ramsford. I’m sure things will get busy for him once we head back to the palace.” She stood on her toes again, pulling me in for another kiss. “I’ll find you later. I have to go help Bertrand with something.”

Before I could say anything more, Bragnae scurried out of the room leaving me with my thoughts. I walked over to a chair and slumped down into it. This was worse now. She was going to throw away a life of luxury and security just to be with me. I still couldn’t fathom it. Why would she do such a thing?

I’m nobody. Liam was everything.

Of course I wanted to be with her, but it just couldn’t happen. I couldn’t let it happen. Liam deserved to be happy, and he cared about her. Who was I to stand in his way?

My heart ached with a miserable heaviness as I realized what I was going to have to do. If she couldn’t see it, then I’d just have to tell her myself. We couldn’t be together.

Later that evening I found myself on the terrace sipping on some whiskey looking out at the stars over the vineyard. It was a beautiful night. A slight cool breeze came in occasionally, and crickets chirped in the distance. Being outdoors always helped to clear my head.

The conversation I needed to have with Bragnae, however, was taking its toll on me in every way imaginable. It was all I thought about since this afternoon. I dreaded it – the conversation I’d have to have with her and the aftershocks of it all. Having to see her as queen on the arm of my best friend. I didn’t think I’d have the strength for it.

Maybe I’d move away. I’d done it before when I went to college. I could do it again. Once Liam had Bragnae, he wouldn’t need me anymore.

I heard the hinges of the door creak, and my gut told me it was Bragnae. Sure enough, the very same clicks of heels from earlier could be heard as she made her way over to me. I took a deep breath and sat my glass of whiskey down before I turned to her.

“Hey, Bennett.” I couldn’t hide the agony on my face. She picked up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong, Drake? Are you okay?” She affectionately ran a hand down my arm.

Ugh. I didn’t even deserve that. She would hate me for this. “You can’t tell Liam, Bennett.”

A look of confusion contorted her face. “Why not?”

“You care for Liam, right?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“And he cares for you. You two would be great together.”

Her expression transformed into frustration and anger. “Drake, did you not listen to anything I told you earlier?”

“I did.”

She threw her hands up. “And yet, you’re still pushing me away.”

I sighed and looked to the ground for support. “He needs you.”

Bragnae took a step forward maneuvering her head to lock eyes with me again. “Don’t you need me, too? Don’t you want me? I mean… don’t you want to be with me?”

Yes to all of that – God, yes. I hated doing this to her. The hurt and pain on her face was almost too much to bear. I had to be strong. I had to finish this before I faltered. “Liam needs you more.”

My own words felt like a knife to my heart. I watched her eyes fill with tears, and I wanted to die. I’m doing this to her. I’m such a fucking asshole. “Bragnae, I’m sorry.” I reached out to touch her, but she moved away.

“No! Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t even talk to me anymore. You are such a coward, Drake.” Tears streamed down her face as she turned to go back inside.

I moved quickly in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. “I just don’t want you to make a mistake. You’d be throwing everything away just to be with me. And you deserve the best, Bragnae.”

“No, Drake. I deserve to be happy, and to be happy with who I want to be with. But it’s clear I’ll never have that.” She shrugged out of my hands and ran inside.

Great. That couldn’t have gone worse. I blew out a frustrated breath, and walked over to the table that held my whiskey. I knew I’d need this tonight. I threw back the rest in one gulp. My grip tightened around the glass as I thought about how I just hurt Bragnae, the one woman I ever truly cared about. And now she didn’t even want to me to talk to her.

The sting of tears pricked my own eyes as I looked out across the vineyard. In an attempt to give Liam and Bragnae a happier and more fulfilled life, I gave away all that I had. Not only would I not have the girl of my dreams, but she wanted nothing to do with me anymore.

Angry with myself, I threw the empty glass far into the vineyard, losing sight of it in the night. What the fuck is wrong with me?

~

A week had gone by since I last spoke with Bragnae. It felt longer. The amount of pain that I carried with me was insurmountable. When the rest of the court showed up in Ramsford the following day, it was clear Bragnae had lost that extra pep in her step. Even as she sat next to Liam, she’d put a smile on when addressing him and the king and queen, but as she turned back to her plate, her face fell.

I tried to approach her, but she walked away from me. I wanted so badly to console her, but I knew my presence was only making her feel worse. So, I honored her wishes and kept my distance. I didn’t try to speak with her, but I couldn’t stay away completely. I had to see her. I had to make sure she was safe. I wanted her to smile like she did before, but every time she did, I could tell it was forced.

Seven days had passed and not one look from her. Not one smile in my direction. Not even a middle finger from her telling me to fuck off. Hell, I’d take that just to know she still acknowledged my existence. Nothing. She had cut me out. I couldn’t blame her. I knew she hated me. I hated me, too.

I just wanted to talk to her again. It was such a shock to go from having her actively in my life every day to having nothing. I missed her. I missed the way she laughed at my sarcastic jokes. I missed the way she never let me get away with anything. I missed her touch.

I would think of the way she kissed me, and let the thought of it whisk me off to sleep at night hoping for pleasant dreams of her. That never worked. Even my subconscious was punishing me for my actions with restless sleep and nightmares of losing Bragnae.

In that time, however, I found solace in the fact that I realized I was in love with her. Having her cut me out like that forced my head out of my ass long enough to recognize how deeply I cared for her. I was happy to know I was capable of falling in love with someone, but I berated myself for figuring it out too late.

Given the chance now, I would never give her up like I did back in Ramsford. She had opened her heart to me that day, and instead of embracing her affections, I stomped on it telling her what I thought she wanted and needed. I was a real dick.

I wish I could change the past or even apologize now to try to win her back, but she wouldn’t even allow me near her without finding some excuse to leave the room. I screwed up big time. And now I have to live with it. I only wish that she would find the happiness she deserves.

I straightened my tie, and looked myself over in the mirror. I put on a suit tonight for Liam’s coronation. It’d been a long time since I wore a suit, but tonight meant something to my best friend, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.

I considered not going at all. I wasn’t sure how I could handle seeing Bragnae accept his proposal. She was still in the running for his hand. The press would have announced it if she withdrew her standing. So, that must have meant that she considered being with Liam after all. Good for her.

After everything I’d been through to get to this moment, I decided I had to show up and support Liam no matter how uncomfortable I was.

I made my way to the ballroom. There was still an hour until King Constantine turned the throne over to his son. I dragged out the night as long as I could, but it was time to make my appearance. As I walked down the hallway, a door opened to my right, and a shimmering gold dress got my eye. I turned to see Bragnae standing there frozen in place.

She was a sight to be seen. The golden sparkles in her dress brought out the amber in her eyes, and her silky hair was pulled into an elegant side-do. She looked magnificent.

“Hi, Bragnae,” I said softly. My nerves got the best of my voice, or perhaps I spoke that way out of fear that I’d spook her. I just wanted to spend five minutes with her without her running away.

She stood there staring at me, not saying a word. Her eyes scanned the length of my body undoubtedly surprised to see me in a suit. She pursed her lips together and straightened her posture keeping her walls up for protection. It was understandable, but it hurt that she felt she needed protection from me. But at least she hadn’t run off yet. These 30 seconds had been the longest I’d spent face to face with her since Ramsford. I’d happily take it.

“You look very nice,” I said, trying to break the ice.

Her mouth opened as if she was going to speak, but she blew out a ragged breath instead. Her expression left its resolute phase and became one of torment. It was hard to see her like that knowing it was my fault.

I took a small step towards her. “Bragnae, I’m sorry.”

I barely got the words out before she turned on her heel and walked towards the ballroom. My head hung in defeat as I stood in her jilted wake. I should have told her I loved her, but it probably wouldn’t have been received well. I just wanted her to know.

Twenty minutes and a glass of whiskey later, I was hanging out in the corner of the ballroom watching the crowd gather in anticipation of not only seeing a new king crowned, but to find out which of the suitors Liam was going to choose. Madeleine, Olivia and Bragnae were considered the top contenders.

The king and queen obviously favored Madeleine. The press adored both Olivia and Bragnae, but the people seemed to rally more around Bragnae. All of those factors including the recommendation of the Royal Council, and of course, Liam’s favorite were all taken into consideration for who the next queen would be.

I hadn’t seen much of Liam over the past week. He had been extremely busy getting ready for tonight, but when we did have the chance to hang out, he told me Bragnae was the one. At that point, he’d only had Constantine and Regina to convince. Everyone else supported his decision to choose her.

Now, it was just a matter of time. As the clock ran down, the crowd started to form around the stage. I moved closer too, spotting Hana. As I sidled up next to her, I noticed she was crying.

“Hana, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She sniffled and wiped her eyes before turning to me. “Yes, I’ll be fine. I just found out Bragnae’s leaving Cordonia tonight.”

“What? Why? Had she been planning this?”

Hana shook her head. “No, she made the decision just a little bit ago.”

“Does Liam know this?” I scanned the room for Liam, but didn’t see him.

“Yes. She told him after they danced. Now, she’s in her room packing. I’m just so sad she’s leaving, Drake.”

“Fuck.”

Hana winced. “Drake.”

“I’m sorry, Hana,” I said, patting her shoulder. “I have to go find Liam.” Before she could reply, I was working my way through the crowd to find him. I had to get to him fast to explain everything, so I could stop Bragnae before she left. This had to be done right.

I’m sure Liam was crushed, and he had to know I was the reason. I spotted Bastien standing near an entrance to a private room for the royals in the far corner. I ran over to him immediately.

“Bastien, do you know where Liam is? I need to speak with him.”

“He’s taking a moment to himself before the coronation, Drake. It will have to wait.”

I stepped closer to him. “Please, Bastien. It’s important. I wouldn’t bug you if it wasn’t.”

Bastien looked around the room and sighed. “Okay, but make it quick.” He turned to unlock the door behind him to let me in.

“Thanks, Bastien. I owe you.” I clapped him on the shoulder, and made my way inside the private suite.

“Liam?” I called out to him as I navigated through a small hallway.

“Drake? Is that you?”

I turned the corner to see Liam dressed in his royal regalia slouched in a chair at a table with a drink in his hand. He looked depressed as fuck. God, what a mess I’ve made.

“Liam, I need to talk to you.” I pulled out the chair next to him and took a seat.

“I’m not in the mood, Drake.” He took a sip of his drink. Liam favored scotch. I’m sure that’s what filled his glass.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I know why you’re upset, and it’s because of me.”

He turned to look at me with a bewildered expression. “What are you talking about?”

“Bragnae withdrew from consideration tonight, right?”

He took another sip. “Yeah, she did. Now, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. I have twenty minutes before I’m crowned fucking king of this country, and the woman I was going to ask to marry me just told me she’s moving back home. I can’t believe it, Drake. I didn’t see this coming.” Liam shook his head, and took another swig of his scotch. After another moment he returned his attention to me. “Why is it your fault?”

My stomach rolled at the thought of hurting my friend. But time was of the essence, and I needed to tell him the truth. “I’m in love with her, Liam.”

He straightened in his chair. “Say again?”

“I’m in love with Bragnae. I’ve had feelings for her for some time, and about a week ago, I found out that she reciprocated those feelings.” I proceeded with caution despite the anger slowly consuming his eyes. “I know this is hard to hear, and I’m sorry that I have to tell you all of this. She wanted to be with me, but I told her she needed to be with you instead. I knew she cared about you, and I knew how much you cared about her. I thought I was making the right decision by insisting that she stay in the running as a suitor.”

“What the fuck, Drake?” Liam said with a raised voice, slamming his glass on the table.

“I know. I’m a monumental prick.”

Liam abruptly stood from the table, and walked a few paces away, keeping his back to me.

“Liam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want this to affect your coronation, but I just found out that she’s planning to leave, so—.”

He whipped around to face me, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Did you kiss her?”

“Yes.” I wasn’t going to lie to him.

Liam glared at me. His breathing became heavy. “Did you fuck her?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but hesitated trying to think of the best way to respond. “Sort of.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He was growing irate by the second.

I sighed. The clock was ticking. I had no idea how fast Bragnae would pack, and I needed to get this conversation over with. “Look, I’m not going to get into those details with you. Let’s just say I’ve never been inside her, and we’ll leave it at that.” God, I hope he accepts that answer. I’m completely at his mercy right now.

He crossed his arms over his chest, still burning holes through me with his piercing blue eyes. “You asshole.”

I dropped my eyes to the table. “I know. I’m the biggest asshole on the planet.” I stood to face him properly. “I know you must hate me right now, and that’s okay. I should have been more honest with you about how I felt about her, but I didn’t want to stand in the way of your happiness. I thought I’d just get over it. I knew you liked her, and I’d do anything for you including push my feelings for her to the side. You’re my brother.” I swallowed in an attempt to clear the lump of emotion forming in my throat.

“I tried to bury my feelings for her. I was prepared to be unhappy for the rest of my life knowing you’d have the girl of your dreams, but then…Bragnae told me how she felt about me, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I’m in love with her, Liam. And because I pushed her away and told her to be with you, she has since cut me out. She won’t even talk to me.” Tears started to form in my eyes for God’s sake. “And now she’s packing to go back to New York. I need to stop her, and tell her I love her.”

“How are you going to do that if she won’t speak to you?” His demeanor was calmer now. Perhaps because I was showing sappy emotion for the first time since he’d known me made him see this was a serious situation. This gave me hope.

“She can at least listen, right? I’ve gotta try, Liam.” I took a deep breath. “But I can’t do that unless I have your blessing. I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s important to me.”

Liam lowered his gaze to the ground, and worked his jaw as he considered my request. He was silent for a long moment before he looked at me again. “She and I never did anything more than kiss. I wanted to, believe me. I even tried to lead her in that direction a couple times, but she always declined.”

That’s… a relief. But why was he telling me this?

“She’s the first girl that’s ever told me no. I told myself she just wanted to wait until she was officially mine, but it wasn’t that at all.” He smirked as he looked me over. “But she was willing to do… whatever it was that you two did together with you, so she must care about you.”

“Liam, I’m so—.”

He held up his hand, taking another moment of contemplative silence. He already had a commanding presence, and he wasn’t even king yet. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never once heard you speak of a woman this way. Nor have I seen you get so emotional over one.” He looked me over and smirked. “Cry baby.”

I grinned at his teasing remark.

He took a step closer to me. “You have my blessing.”

I closed my eyes, blowing out a breath of relief. “Thank you, Liam.”

“You’re welcome. Now, go get your girl.”

“Right.” I spun around to leave the room almost losing my footing.

“And Drake?” Liam called as I was about to round the corner. I turned to face him again. “Good luck.”

A smile transformed my lips. “Thanks. Oh, and I’m really sorry I’m going to have miss your coronation. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yes, you will,” he replied light-heartedly. “Get the hell outta here already, would ya?”

“I’m gone!” And with that, I turned tail and left the royal suite.

I pushed my way through the growing crowds until I made my way out of the ballroom. Thankfully everyone was corralled there, which made the hallways clear. I could run without any interference.

And run I did. And I didn’t stop until I got to Bragnae’s room. Taking only a second to catch my breath, I knocked on her door. And waited. I knocked again. My mind raced through all the possible locations she could be if she wasn’t in her room. I had to have a plan B, C, D… whatever it took. I needed to find her before she left. If I had to stand on the fucking runway itself, I would.

I knocked a third time. “Bragnae? Are you in there? Please open up if you are.” I laid my head against her door. Fuck. Okay. New plan. I’d have check the front of the palace to see if the guards knew if she’d left yet.

As I turned to leave, I was stunned to see Bragnae standing in my path. She had changed out of her gown and into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Her hand rested on the extended handle of her suitcase.

“I forgot my phone charger.” It was so good to hear her sweet voice spoken in my direction again.

“Don’t leave, Bragnae. Please.”

She blew out an exasperated breath as she walked toward me – rather, she walked toward her door. I stepped out of her way as she unlocked it and opened the door. This was a good idea. At least we’d have some privacy and I could tell her how I felt. She tried to shut the door on me, but I pushed it open anyway, and followed her in.

I shut the door behind me and stood in front of it. I watched her walk over to her bed side table and pull a charger cord out of the drawer. She shoved it in her purse, and cocked her hip when she saw I was blocking her path.

“What are you doing? I have a flight to catch. Can you please move?” She was annoyed, and tried to hide the emotion in her voice, but I heard it anyway.

“No.” She sighed at my response. “Not until you hear what I have to say.”

She relented, exhaling a deep breath. “Fine. Make it quick.”

“Put your bags down.” She started to protest as I walked towards her, taking the purse off her shoulder and tossing it on the bed. I yanked the suitcase handle out of her grip and rolled it away. “I want your attention on me, not your flight.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest putting up the last piece of armor she had left. “What do you want, Drake?” Her voice shook a little, and definitely lacked the fiery zing it had just a few minutes ago.

I put my hands on the sides of her arms stepping closer to her. She turned her head slightly, but didn’t move out of my touch. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for being an idiot. For denying your affections and making you feel unwanted. And for any pain or hurt I caused you.” I tilted my head to the side to catch her eye. “I was wrong. And every day since then I’ve regretted my words.” Goddamn these emotions! The lump in my throat returned as I continued.

“Not having you in my life over this past week has been torture. I missed your smile, the way you laugh. I wasn’t happy at all because I knew you weren’t. You were right, Bragnae. You do deserve to be happy, and I want you to have that no matter what. If you need to leave Cordonia to be happy again, then I won’t stop you. But you have to know something first.” I took a deep breath, and poured all of my energy and feelings into my words. “I love you, Bragnae Bennett.”

Her mouth fell open as she inhaled a sharp breath. “You do?” She barely squeaked out the two words.

I smiled. “Yeah, I do. I have for some time, but I didn’t realize it until after I’d hurt you. And I’m sorry for that.” I took another step closer, lightly tugging on her arms to loosen them, so I could hold her hands. “Bragnae, you’re an amazing woman. I love everything about you, and I know I can’t live without you in my life. I’m not strong enough. And if you decide to stay in Cordonia, I’ll do whatever I have to do to show you how much I care about you.”

Bragnae took in another breath. “Say it again.”

I paused, giving her a questioning look. “Which part?”

“That you love me.”

I grinned, standing so close to her our chests touched. She had to tilt her head back just to look at me. “Bragnae Bennett, I love you. And I will always love you.”

Her eyes glistened with emotion. “I love you, too, Drake.”

My body filled with goosebumps hearing her reply. I smiled, stroking the side of her face with my finger. “Your love means the world to me. And I will never take it for granted.”

“Good.” She ran her hands up my chest, forming a loop at the base of my neck. “So, kiss me already.”

“Yes, ma’am.” We met in the middle as our lips connected in one of the most wonderful and fulfilling kisses two people could share. As the kiss deepened, I lifted her up and walked over to the bed to sit down with Bragnae in my lap. “This brings back pleasant memories.” I was getting turned on just thinking about it.

She giggled. “And we’ll make plenty more.”

“So, does that mean you’re going to stay in Cordonia?”

Bragnae outlined my jaw with her finger. “There’s no way I’m leaving you.”

“Good answer.” Our lips came together again as we both fell back on the bed getting lost in our love and desire for each other.

[realllllfangirllllll]

Beyond Lovers || Chp. 10

{More Than Friends Sequel}

Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.

Masterlist

{ Previous / Next }

Jaehyun’s pov

I don’t know what happened to me. At first, I was peacefully talking to Taeyong and the next thing I knew, I was beyond furious and fought Yuta until he fell to the ground. Enough to make a statement but not powerful enough to seriously injure him. He was SM’s CEO after all. That piece of trash. Emily already hurt y/n enough. I won’t ever let that shit family, or anyone else, hurt her ever again. 

~~~

Y/n’s pov

Releasing a long sigh, I stared at the large hole that shaped the wall of our bedroom. Just a few minutes ago, Jaehyun and I broke out into the biggest fight we’ve ever had. Usually, our fights were nothing special-- a few bickering here and some disagreement there. This time, however, Jaehyun was furious. He looked at me with eyes that could kill. I’ve never felt as intimidated as I had just a few moments ago.

I tried to reason with Jaehyun. Meeting Yuta was just a last resort to saving our company, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. 

“Are you out of your mind?,” Jaehyun shouted as soon as the bedroom door slammed shut. “Actually don’t answer that. It’s clear you weren’t in your right mind if you met with Emily’s fucking cousin. Do you not understand how shady the whole fucking family is or are you just that dumb?”

I paid no mind to his angered spews and dug in my brain for a logical explanation that will calm him down. You spoke gently to him, “Jae listen to me. I was only trying to talk business with SM’s new CEO. He personally invited me so we can discuss how to put an end to the mess Emily started. He’s isn’t as bad as people imagined. Yuta isn’t Emily or her dad.”

I knew I have said the wrong thing as soon as his hands shot up to run it through his hair. His lips flattened to a straight line and I heard a low groan from him. “He isn’t that bad?” Before I could open up my mouth to correct my words, his fist went flying towards my face. I flinched and shut my eyes tightly as a gust of wind fanned my face. Turning around in horror I see the wall decorated with a large dent. Jaehyun left his fist connected to the wall as blood dripped from his knuckles and onto the wall.

I saw Jaehyun’s eyes soften back to reality as soon as he saw the fear in my eyes, but it was too late. His reckless behavior and possessiveness were way out of line this time. It sparked unknown resentment and fear in me. Before he was able to say another word, a tiny whimper left my voice as I told him with all the strength I had left, “Get out.”

~~~

Jaehyun’s pov

I promise to never let anyone hurt y/n, but I hurt her instead. Why do I always do this? I wanted to protect her. Let her know that family was dangerous, but I resorted to violence instead. 

“One iced coffee please.”

I took a seat at the cafe near our building as I waited for my order. I never thought a little cafe shop would mean anything to me, but ever since y/n’s disappearance, every little thing made me think of her. Ever since we started NCT, I would go here every morning with her. Now that I think of it, I don’t think NCT would have even happened if it weren’t for y/n. I came to this shop every day, stressed about starting NCT, but I left the shop happy every time. It was her who listened to my rants every day. It was her who made me laugh when I wanted to pull the hairs out of my scalp. She made me feel better every day. It was always her. 

But now, every morning, I’d come and leave this place missing her. It’s been weeks now and I still haven’t heard from her. In fact, none of us have heard from y/n. I’d call her every morning and every night, but to my disappointment, I would always end up in her voicemail box. 

The waiter placed my drink on the table and asked me, “You’ve been coming here alone for quite some time now. Where is the pretty lady who’s always with you? I wanted to get her number.”

I snapped out of my thoughts as soon as I heard those words. “What did you just say?”

I was about to put the waiter in his place before I looked up and realized who it was. He glared at me and sat down across from me. “See? This is why she left you. Why do you always have to act like you have a stick up your ass?”

I scoffed, “What do you know Taeyong. Just stay out of it, you headass.”

“Headass? How childish can you get Yoonoh. How did y/n even want to date you?”

I crossed my arms, ready to challenge him. “What do you know about dating?”

Taeyong scoffed and sat up a little straighter, crossing his arms as well. “Oh so we’re gonna go there now, are we?” 

I smirked waiting for his comeback.

“If you weren’t such a dumbass maybe your girlfriend wouldn’t have ran away from you.”

“Ouch.”

Taeyong continued relentlessly, “And don’t get me started about our high school days. You were always so cold to every girl that confessed to you. Did you even know they cried? And I was the one who always cleaned up your mess.”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s not like they actually liked me. Why are you so worked up anyway? You’re my best friend. I thought you came to comfort me, not drag me.”

I pouted at him and he reciprocated with a disgusted look, “Don’t get all sulky. You call me your best friend but who was the one dissing my love life earlier?”

Laughing at his response, I told him, “It was just a joke. Chill Yongie. You started it first.”

“Don’t ‘Yongie’ me. Get your shit together and show y/n you’re sorry for acting like a beast all the time.”

I sighed at the reminder of y/n. “Look, it’s not as easy as it seems. I fucked up big time.”

Taeyong got up and pat me on the shoulder before sympathetically saying, “Look dumbass she loves you more than you think. You just got to look at things from her perspective sometimes. You may think you’re protecting her but it may look like the opposite to her.”

I circled the edge of my drink with my finger, thinking deeply. He pats me one more time as he said, “I gotta go back to the stupid board meeting bro. Just stop acting so aggressive and put more thoughts into your every action alright?”

I nodded slightly as he headed towards the exit. Even as he started leaving, I heard him call out, “Kiss the girl!”

I laughed. At times I feel the most powerless, Taeyong was always there to give me strength. I recalled the times we were in high school. Where everything went wrong.

“Hey dumbass why do you look even colder today? Failed the test? Broke another girl’s heart?”

My eyes never left the ground, even as Taeyong wrapped his arm around my neck and dragged me to our main hall. Fury took over my eyes and my body was boiling with anger. That witch.

Taeyong stopped moving and grabbed my face, making me stare at him. His smile dropped as his tone got more serious, “Whoa whoa whoa, your eyes can kill bro. What happened?”

I spoke through gritted teeth, “That witch took down Mom’s portrait. She told me I couldn’t do anything about it because Father allowed it.”

Taeyong’s face immediately fell and I can already feel his pity seeping through his expression. I didn’t need that. I hated that. I hated looking powerless. I hated being powerless.

Suddenly, Taeyong scoffed and continued dragging me with his arm around my neck, “That mother fudger can kiss my donkey. She thinks she’s all powerful and all? She ain’t got nothing on my man Jung Yoonoh.”

I sighed, knowing those were just words of affirmation, “She is powerful. She got Father trapped under her spell and can get anything she wants. She continues to take all of his money and manipulates everyone, trying to make me seem useless…”

I received a face from Taeyong as he stopped me once again, strongly punching me on the arm. “Ow! What the heck?” I glared at him and rubbed my arm.

“Man up will you! How are you useless? Are you not the top student at this prestigious high school? Are you not the person who single-handedly punch that douche, Adam, in the face when he looked down on our class?”

My eyes wandered to the ground again, feeling helpless as he mentioned my past. With zero energy in my voice, I told him, “I’m currently useless, so why does all that even matter?”

He rolled his eyes at me, “Stop acting all stupid! I know you have it in you. You can either keep fighting this battle to prove to that witch that you are the strong person she doesn’t think you are, or you can stay here, moping, being the useless person she thinks you are.” He crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently, “So what’s it gonna be? Fight or mope?”

I smiled, thinking of the decision I chose. The decision that led me to become Korea’s most successful bachelor. The decision that drove the bitch far away from me.

Taeyong was right. He has always been right. I’m going to find y/n again and make things right again.

———

• I’ve been so busy lately with midterms ಥ_ಥ •

• More updates to come tho I promise~ •

• STREAM MOONWALK 🌘 •

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 9 of it’s always ourselves we find is here!

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

[kristanna / m / modern au / coworkers & enemies to lovers ;) ]

It was a marvel, really, how quickly she returned to him: his Anna, with all her ungraceful laughter and bright smiles and brighter eyes.

He thought of her as such not because he dared to think he had any real claim to her, but rather because this Anna, the one who had let go of his hand only to eat her lunch, was the one he’d grown so familiar with and fond of over the past months, the one who drove him absolutely insane in more ways than he could count.

Currently, she was in the midst of explaining in excruciating detail precisely how awful the two dates she’d been on with Hans had been, and Kristoff found himself laughing so hard his sides were beginning to hurt. 

“Seriously, Kris, it’s not funny,” she said between giggles of her own. “I ruined my tights crawling out the window, and I’d just bought them.”

“Sorry,” he managed to gasp. “Just-- I’m trying to picture how you even managed to get up on the ledge--”

“Shut up, you great big brute, not all of us can be the size of a tree.”

“Sorry,” he said again, though he wasn’t at all. “Just-- was it really that bad that you had to climb out of the bathroom window?”

She grew a little more solemn then. “Yeah, like-- like Hans ordered a salad for me, and said to put the dressing on the side, and of course I scarfed it down like a crazy person since I’d just been hiking all afternoon with my sister, and he was going on and on and on about his vision for the company, and I kept wondering what he’d do if I just reached across the table and stole a piece of his steak.”

Kristoff grew quieter, just watching her as she took a sip of her drink. Her gaze fluttered up to him after a moment, curious. “Cat got your tongue?”

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, weighing his words carefully for fear of using them carelessly again. “Just...wondering why you thought I’d do that to you on purpose.”

“Do what? Say what you did this morning?”

“No-- shit, I’m sorry again for that-- but I meant setting you up with Hans.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Was it really not on purpose?”

“Do you really think I’d do Hans Westergaard a favor like that?”

“A favor, huh?”

“Well,” he stammered, “he’s-- well-- you know how he is with pretty girls.”

A little smile slid onto her face. Please don’t ask me, he thought desperately, please don’t ask me if I think you’re pretty, because I can’t lie to you, Anna, not any more.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “So...okay. So from my perspective, it was like...I was in the break room with Jessica and Lissa, and they were trying to get you to ask me.”

“Wait, what?”

“Mhmm. That’s why they were like ‘hey, Kristoff, Anna needs a date to the fundraiser ball, do you know anyone who could take her?’, and then Hans came in--”

“That’s what it was! I didn’t see him, I swear. Sorry, go on.”

“So then why did you say ‘I’m sure Hans is on the lookout’?”

“I was being sarcastic. He brings a new girl to everything. I didn’t mean for him to actually ask you.”

Anna sat back, looking as if she’d just been handed the meaning of the whole universe. “You really didn’t? After the party-- which was awful, by the way, you didn’t miss anything-- I thought you’d set me up for it almost like a prank. And then he asked me out again in front of people, and I couldn’t really say no, so that’s how I ended up on the second one, and after that I was really convinced you hated me.”

Kristoff shook his head, leaning over the table, and said as sincerely as he could, “Anna, even if I did hate you, I wouldn’t wish that rat bastard on my worst enemy.”

She beamed at him so brightly he had a feeling she’d be holding his hand again if there weren’t plates in the way. He wished she would anyway; who cared about getting a little ketchup on your sleeve when a girl like that wanted to touch you?

A sudden thought struck him then. “Wait-- but why did your friends want me to ask you?”

Her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. “For reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“Silly ones.”

“Anna,” he cajoled, half-singing her name and wondering in the back of his mind how she’d managed to make him act so...silly. “C’mon, you can tell me. It’s just your favorite worst enemy.”

“You can’t laugh,” she said sternly, her blush darkening. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

She sighed and slanted her eyes away from him, leveling a determined glare at the shrimp tails on her plate. “Because I told them I thought you were handsome.”

He didn’t know what answer he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been that. “Seriously? You really thought that?”

She rolled her eyes as she dared to glance back up at him. “Oh, come on, Kristoff, as if you don’t know you’re all…” She waved a hand vaguely. “Big and blonde and. And your face and stuff.”

He wanted to take a long moment to let it sink in; it was almost too much for one day, realizing that Anna not only cared about his opinion, not only seemed to actually sort of like him, not only wanted to keep touching him-- but that she thought he was handsome. “Wow,” he heard himself saying. “I can’t believe it.”

“Okay, okay, well, it’s your turn in the hot seat, mister,” she said grumpily, though the effect was ruined somewhat by the still-red tips of her ears. “Why did you snap at me this morning?”

It was his turn to flush. “It was nothing. I was just-- just in a bad mood.”

“You’re always in a bad mood,” she said, her brows knitting together as she leaned over the table. “Tell me the truth.”

Fuck, that gave him a great view right down the front of her shirt, which definitely was not making this any easier. He tried not to shift too obviously in his seat as he kept his gaze firmly locked on her face. “Just-- one of those...things.”

And now she was reaching for him across the table, concern in her eyes as she settled that little hand over his arm, that little hand that he’d dreamed that morning she’d had wrapped around his cock, for god’s sake, and her voice was so gentle as she said, “Kris, just tell me the truth, please?”

He swallowed hard and shook his head in a last ditch effort to make her back down. She tilted her head to the side, confused, when suddenly understanding dawned in her eyes. “Oh.”

“It wasn’t ‘cause you were there,” he said quickly, although it most definitely had been at least in part because of that. “I promise I’m not a--”

She sat back a little, though she didn’t move her hand. He could tell she was trying to contain her mirth and spare him further embarrassment. “It’s okay. I’ve had boyfriends before, I know how it is.”

“It’s different,” he ground out, feeling his face heat further than he thought was possible. 

He realized suddenly that something else had dawned on her, that her amusement had transformed into realization-- of what, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He shifted awkwardly in his seat again, and at last she withdrew her hand, running it absentmindedly through her hair. “Sorry, again,” he muttered, looking anywhere but her eyes.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him. “Seriously. You can’t help it. And you already apologized enough for the other stuff.”

“I still feel bad. Let me make it up to you, let me buy your lunch or something, yeah?”

She waved him away. “Let’s just say you owe me one, maybe I’ll have you drive me to the print shop next time I need to pick up a banner or something.”

He blinked in surprise. “You don’t need a favor to ask me to do that.”

Her eyes softened. “Really?”

All Kristoff could do was nod, feeling grateful that the waiter chose that moment to come by with the check. As he began to do the mental calculations for what he’d have to give up next week to cover both of their meals, Anna said quickly, “We’re splitting it, no matter what he tries to say,” even as he began to fumble for his wallet. 

And damn, if that didn’t make him lo-- like her even more.

---

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, wearing his softest old t-shirt and sweatpants, Anna was already nestled under the blankets, keeping carefully to her side of the pillow wall. A little flutter in his chest accompanied the realization that she’d decided to keep their arrangement from the night before and hadn’t set a pillow between where their faces would be.

He came to a pause by his side of the bed. “Anna?”

“Hmm?” she asked, not looking up from her phone.

“Can I...this pillow here, the one by your shoulder...do you mind if I move that one and use it tonight? Sorry, I know it’s-- well, sharing a bed and all-- but my neck kind of hurts from staring at the screen all day, and--”

She did look up at him, a look of fond amusement on her face. “‘Course. Just don’t go getting fresh with me.”

He huffed out a laugh as he shifted the pillow to his side before climbing in bed next to her, being as careful as he could not to jostle the mattress too much. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

(Except he would. And he had.)

He glanced over at her then, giving himself one last chance to take in the sight of her long, tawny lashes brushing down almost to her freckled cheeks each time she blinked. She noticed him staring and glanced up at him. “What? Have I got something on my face?”

“Are you gonna snore again tonight?” he asked, accompanying the words with an exaggerated wink just to make sure she knew he was joking.

She slid further down the pillows, set her phone on her nightstand with an exaggerated tap, and stretched one final time, arching her back enough he felt his mouth go dry, before turning lazily to him and giving him a smirk. “Depends. Are you gonna say my name in your sleep again?”

For a split second, he could have sworn every moving thing in his body came to a complete halt. Any half-asleep thoughts that had been trailing around his mind collapsed into the terrifying refrain of she knows.

“Anna?”

No response.

“Anna, did I really say that?”

She reached up and flicked off the light, leaving them in complete darkness. “Sweet dreams, big guy.”

He could hear the barely concealed laughter in her voice. Fuck, he was in massive trouble; there was no way he’d ever live this one down or that she’d let it go. He felt like a window fogged with steam, too warm and cloudy-minded as he struggled to come to grips with the fact that she knew he had feelings for her, knew he’d woken up hard because he’d dreamed of her-- and, the realization hitting him like a splash of cold water to the face-- she was still lying in bed beside him.

“Kristoff?”

“Yeah?” he asked, a little too quickly.

“Are you still awake?”

“Obviously.”

“Because you’re worrying you’ll say my name again?”

He swallowed so hard he wondered if she could hear it. And perhaps she could, because a moment later there was a rustling of the sheets, and that now-familiar little hand was resting on his chest as Anna’s fingertips idly traced patterns across the thin white fabric of his t-shirt. “It’s okay, Kris, really,” she said, her voice gentler now. “I thought it was sweet.”

Perhaps he was in less trouble than he’d thought.

He drew in a deep breath. Her hand began to slow, and then to pull away, but before she had entirely lifted it from his chest he set his own hand down over it, so suddenly he startled even himself. He heard a sharp intake of breath from her before her hand relaxed again under his, palm flattening just over his heart.

For a few minutes they simply laid next to each other, as he let his thumb slide back and forth over her hand. As he felt his heart rate slow under the gentle press of Anna’s hand, he heard her breath slow down, evening out until a faint snore escaped her. He couldn’t help but smile then, giving her hand one last squeeze before carefully setting it on the mattress between them and rolling on his side to face her.

“Good night, Anna,” he whispered, but the only response was another snore.

[dontgotothenetherworld]

I loved your latest Nick fic! I had this idea from Perfect that some of the lyrics fit him and the reader as his best friend while they’re crushing but scared to admit it. Like “sometimes is never quite enough” because he always wants to see her and “how long before you screw it up? and how many times do I have to tell you to hurry up?” because he feels like he always screws up a chance to tell her how he feels but he keeps trying until he gets it right. If the idea is too specific that’s fine!

perfect

honestly, anon, you should be the one writing this, this is a really good idea. but i’ve already written it so..

i used four lyrics from the song! they’re from the beginning part, because they seemed like the only ones that could possibly be fit into a romantic context! i tried my best to make them direct quotes, but some have added words because the perspective of this song is kind of weird

1898 words

cw: femreader.

nick stared at his phone screen. it went black, from inactivity.

he turned it back on, to see your text. it was simple, just a few hearts.

but nick couldn’t handle it. his brain flashed memories from the past few months with you. everytime he had tried to ask you out, to be more precise. tried and failed.

he had tried so many times to work up the courage. he tried so many times to just say the right words. but now he was running out of time.

it was your senior year. nick had gotten into harvard, and you had gotten into ucla. you were leaving each other. and these months were the last chance he would get to finally just say the words. the three little words.

and, hey! there were no consequences, right? earlier, nick was terrified that he would screw up your friendship, but you were moving away. and people stop being friends when they move away. it doesn’t have to be that way, but if nick did screw up the whole relationship, then at least the two of you wouldn’t have to be near each other, and have that as a constant reminder.

so now there was literally nothing that could go wrong, but nick was just so scared.

he was paralyzed. a single tear fell down his cheek. suddenly, an idea stuck him.

he took a deep breath, as he began to formulate. he would write a letter to you. he didn’t have to give it to you, he just needed to get all of the words he wanted to say out.

maybe he would give it to you. maybe he didn’t want to have to see your face when he told you all his pent up emotions. but maybe he did.

if you reciprocate the feelings, he wanted to watch you react. but you might not. you probably don’t, and so nick should give you the letter. that way you can let him down easily, without the harshness of an initial reaction.

nick flattened a piece of lined paper on his desk. he picked up the pen you gave him. it was years ago now, but this would be the first time he’d ever used it. it was for special occasions. and this was definitely special.

”dear y/n,” he began. “i am in love with you. i’ve been in love with you since we were sophomores. do you remember homecoming? at the end of the night, when everyone found new energy as the final song started up, you told me something. you probably didn’t put much thought into it, but i think about it nearly everyday. you told me that i’m perfect. do you remember that? it caught me off guard. we hadn’t been talking, just laughing at nothing and dancing, and you told me that i’m perfect. and then when the song ended, you hugged me. i think that’s when i realized i had feelings for you. romantic ones, that is.

”i don’t know when it happened, but sometime last year i really fell in love with you. maybe it was seeing you with paint all over your face, after we got distracted from making posters. or maybe it was on facetime, when you let me rant to you for the thousandth time about how stressed i always am. but i think it was when you held my hand during the scary part of some cheesy horror movie that i can’t remember the name of.

”and after i fell, i realized that sometimes is never quite enough. i couldn’t just be with you sometimes, i had to be with you every chance that i could. so if it seemed like i was just making up reasons to hang out with you, i was. i hope you don’t mind.

”yet being with you constantly turned out to stab me in the back. do you remember gabe? godlike gabe is how i thought of him. you put him on such a pedestal. you thought he was so incredible, so perfect. perfect body, perfect grades, and he always had the perfect thing to say. he had no flaws. and i know you never meant for it to impact me the way it did, but everytime you mentioned him, it was like you were just stabbing a dagger through my heart. a dagger engraved with the words, “if you’re flawless, then you’ll win my love.” and all i saw were my flaws, and i felt like they were on full display to you, so you could never love me.

”and i couldn’t tell you about how this made me feel, not if i wanted to keep my love for you a secret. so, i told you about other things. my family, the stress that they put me under. your family is much different than mine, so you didn’t really know what to say, but you did tell me “don’t forget to keep that smile on your face” when you tricked me into laughing at your horrible puns, and that helped. you told me that my smile was cute, so i tried to smile more when i was around you. and then you would smile, and i’d forget about all my flaws.”

nick put his pen down. he hadn’t said everything he wanted to yet, but needed a moment to regain himself. he didn’t want to deliver a letter stained with tears to you. he leaned back in his chair, thinking of what he had left.

with a deep breath, he began again, “i would sometimes wonder how long it would be before i screwed it up. how long before i said something stupid, like “i love you.” so i guess this is that time. i’ve waited to tell you, because you are the best friend i’ve ever had, and i don’t want to lose you. but i can’t be just friends with you. i have tried, but i need to tell you i love you. if you don’t have feelings for me, that’s fine. i waited to tell you until our graduation, when we’re going to be on opposite sides of the country, so that if you don’t feel the same, our parting will be more natural. if you don’t, i would still like to be friends with you, but not right away.

”y/n, i know you better than i know myself. you are going to succeed at whatever you put your mind to. california doesn’t know what’s coming.

”love, nick.”

nick read over his letter. “this is shit.” he muttered to himself. it was like he had written a fucking essay on you. that’s not how you tell someone you love them.

he read his words once more. he decided he wasn’t going to use it. he would just tell you in person, maybe hitting on the point he had made in the letter. it’d seem less awkward and rigid than this.

yet, he tucked the letter into an envelope, and put it in an often unused pocket of his backpack.

he tried to forget about it, and go to sleep. but it was a restless sleep. every time he glanced at the clock, convinced that hours had passed, only a minute had.

when he finally gave up on a restful sleep, he dragged himself out of bed, the only solace being a cup of coffee.

finals, his last finals of high school, were coming up soon. and instead of studying, he had written a shitty fucking love letter to a girl that would never see him as more than a friend. he completely checked out when his family began talking. talking in their incessantly loud voices, about mundane topics.

his sister, frankie asked him something. not wanting to seem like he wasn’t paying attention, he said, “uh yeah, sure. sounds great.” and frankie gave him a hug. which was weird, but nick didn’t have mental energy to question it.

later that day, after the final bell rang and frankie hopped into nick’s car, frankie said, “you’re welcome.”

nick furrowed his eyebrows. “you’re welcome what?”

frankie rolled her eyes. “for being the best little sister ever, obviously.”

the look on nick’s face was not amused. “what did you do.”

”well, you know how you told me you wanted me to give that letter to y/n this morning?”

nick’s heart rate picked up. the letter. “i didn’t say that.”

”well, i remember you did, and i already gave it to y/n. so you’re welcome.”

”what?” nick screamed. the car suddenly felt so small, the windows closing in on him.

”this morning, i asked you if you wanted me to give the letter to y/n, and you said that that sounded like a great idea, i don’t see why you’re freaking out right now. can you hurry up and drive us home? i have loads of physics homework that i need to get to.”

the world seemed to rotate around nick. “frankie, i was half asleep, was that not obvious? and why did you have my letter in the first place? did you got through my backpack again? you need to stop doing that!”

frankie shrunk into her seat. “sorry. but you shouldn’t agree to things you don’t hear.”

”you are not going to blame me for this!” nick took out his phone, and quickly sent you a text, “hey did frankie give you a letter today? have you read it yet? if you haven’t, do you mind waiting until after graduation to read it? please no follow up questions about the letter’s contents if you have not read it.”

nick then threw his phone into the backseat, and began pulling out of the school parking lot.

”so what was in the letter? did you finally confess your love to y/n?” asked frankie.

nick’s face flushed, and he didn’t reply.

taking his silence as an answer, frankie said, “well good for you, then. and hey, with y/n’s dna, you have a 50/50 chance of making cute babies.”

nick continued to ignore frankie’s comments all the way home.

”do you think y/n will still want to be friends with me, even when we’re no longer sister-in-laws, and she’s on her second husband? or wife? or spouse? is y/n queer?” frankie gasped, “maybe i could be her second wife!”

”get out.” nick said, pulling into the driveway.

”i have the kindest brother.” she said with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

nick sneered at her.

after he parked his car, he took a deep breath and picked up his phone. NUMBER texts from you. “yeah, frankie like ran up to me in the middle of the hallway. that was weird.”, “i haven’t had time to read it yet, why is it bad?”, “wait, ignore that question. i will conveniently forget the letter’s existence until after we’ve graduated

”yes, please forget about it for the next two weeks. wait no, less than two weeks. frankie wasn’t supposed to give that to you, sorry.” he sent back.

”give what to me? ha ha…”

”please don’t remind me that graduation is that soon ugh.” you double texted.

”i know :(“ nick sent.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi

[chaotic-emo-pigeon]

I Promised so here it is

This is my fanfiction. It’s christmas Destiel because I am that person. It features a magical gremlin child named Poppy who I will give the extremely long and convoluted backstory to if you ask. She’s the adopted younger sister of the Winchester boys. Formatting on this is fucked but whatever. Enjoy!

“I never understood the purpose of Christmas” the angel said, poking at the tree “it isn’t even Jesus’s real birthday, and even if it was-”

“Can it, Cas” came a voice from the other room “just enjoy it”

After a series of confused grunting, Dean eventually emerged carrying a large box. At the same time, Sam and Poppy walked in, each holding 2 cups of cocoa.

They offered the drink around, and Cas gladly took it.

Even though he was an angel, and technically didn’t need to eat, this was one of the few things he actually enjoyed consuming. He liked the feeling of warmth traveling down his throat. It reminded him of being safe, it reminded him of Dean.

Dean opened the box to reveal dozens of little sparkling ornaments. Which, from Castiel’s perspective, seemed both mesmerizing and useless. 

“So… you put the sparkling things… on the tree?” Cas asked, almost concerned “why?”

“That’s the idea, yeah” Poppy replied from her cozy little spot on the couch. “It looks nice”

“I don’t understand” Castiel took a seat on the chair in the corner 

“You don’t have to” the girl chuckled “try to relax”

He tried, but it wasn’t exactly easy. 

“Is anyone going to help me out here or am I on my own? Because need I remind you, this was Poppy’s idea” Dean gestured at the partially decorated tree

“I’m helping!” Poppy said, floating over a sparkly glass snowflake “see?”

“Barely” Dean scoffed

“Here, I’ll light a fire” Poppy zapped over to the fireplace. 

“NO” Sam and Dean said in unison

“Too late!” Poppy joyfully exclaimed, fire already roaring behind her “It’s gorgeous”

Everyone looked over at Cas, but he seemed a million miles away.

Castiel had never really had a family. There were his siblings, and father, but to call them dysfunctional would be the biggest understatement of the millennium. The closest thing he had ever had to a real, happy family would be these three, as chaotic and strange as they were. Cas didn’t know love either, not until he met Dean. This was their first family holiday since the two of them had gotten back from purgatory and they hadn’t really spoken.

It wasn’t that they were awkward, or even mad, they just didn’t know how to bring it up.

And that was okay, Cas told himself. Everything was going to be fine…

“Wings?” Poppy poked him “you okay?”

“I’m fine” Castiel said, breaking out of his reverie

“Alright then…” she pointed at the tree “want to help?”

“Sure” he said matter-of-factly “what do I do?”

“Nothing much” shrugged Sam “Just hang the ornament on the tree where you think it would look nice” 

It sounded simple enough.

Pretty soon all four of them were crowding each other, and in no time at all the tree was sparkling.

“Alright everybody,” Poppy held up a star in the shape of an anti-possession sigil “who wants to put the star on the tree?” Sam laughed “where the hell did you get that?”

“Don’t ask” replied his sister with a wry smile, “I have my ways”

“Let Cas do it,” said Dean “It’s probably his turn anyway”

“Is anyone even keeping track anymore?” Sam interjected “I’d gladly do it” Castiel spoke up 

“Great!” Poppy handed him the star

With a little help, the star ended up on the tree.

“Alright, big reveal” said Dean, flipping the lights off.

They all oohed and ahhed as the tree lit up, and, feeling brave, Cas slipped his hand into Dean’s.

Dean wasn’t really ever one for physical affection.

It just wasn’t his thing

 That didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it though. And he would gladly hold Cas’s hand for as long as he could, not wanting to let him go.

He didn’t let it show though, and after a second, Cas dropped his hand.

Sam and Poppy shared a knowing glance, and after a minute or two, proceeded to usher the two outside to 'watch the snow fall’

“wanna watch a movie?” Sam asked, digging through Bobby’s old DvDs

“Sure” she shrugged “I don’t think they’re coming in anytime soon”- she jerked a thumb at the door “so why not?”

“Hey… do you think we pushed them a little too much?” “Are you kidding me?” Poppy seemed personally offended “they needed to talk sometime, and you saw the same thing I did.”

Sam nodded “you’re right, you’re right.” “Oh god” a look of realization glimmered across Poppy’s face “We don’t have to play bedroom roulette tonight, do we?” “Oh I hope not” said Sam, terrified “we only have two beds in this house”

“Well, whose fault is that?” Poppy crossed her arms.

“We never speak of this night again” 

“You could always sleep on the couch, dumbass” 

The sound of laughter echoed through the cabin.

Outside it was quiet.

Dean could see his breath in the air, but for some reason, he didn’t really feel cold. 

Castiel, on the other hand, was very cold.

Logically, he should have been able to regulate his body temperature so he wouldn’t be so cold, but something wasn’t letting him.

Dean could see something was off

“You cold?”

“No…” Cas said, looking away “i’m perfectly fine”

“No you’re not” Dean sighed “I can tell”

He scooched over and slid off his jacket

“Here” he said, wrapping it around the angel “now talk to me.” Instead of talking, Castiel grabbed Dean’s face and pulled him in close, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his lips to Dean’s.

“Whoa” Dean said when they broke free “Cas… I-”

“I apologize” Cas moved to get up “I wasn’t thinking”

Dean clutched his wrist, pulling him back down

“Like hell you weren’t” Dean tucked a stray piece of hair behind Cas’s ear “I just wasn’t ready”

He moved even closer and pulled Cas in, pausing a moment before kissing him, long and hard.

“Psst, Sam” Poppy was by the window again. “Come look” “Can’t you let me sleep?” Sam groaned from his place on the couch 

“Sa-am”

“Fine” Sam got up and trudged towards the window

“Oh” “Yeah, oh” Poppy elbowed him “would you look at that?”

“Terrible” Sam cracked a smile “just awful” “The worst”

“Merry Christmas, Sam”

“Merry Christmas”

This is just part 1.