#and people saying ‘sweetheart of your city’ would be a good name for a tour it would be a GREAT name for a tour !!!

[jentlemahae]

i think a rosie tour next year is a real possibility

[yellowbrokenblue]

Could you write something about Harry, where his girlfriend is accompanying them on tour or maybe she is a 6th member of the oned (you choose how to do it) and they keep finding a way to escape without the people seeing to sleep with each other or he tries to take her to his bunk bed on the tour bus or to his hotel room... smutttt please

“My boyfriend is literally on stage.”

kofi!

cw: public sex, slight daddy kink

There was something about being surrounded by tens of thousands of teenage girls screaming your boyfriend’s name that made you feel so good that after all of this, it was your arms he was running into. Not theirs.

Liam, Zayn, Niall, Louis and Harry were the most desired men on the planet right now, but little did the fans know that you and Harry were exclusive for a while now and there was nothing they could do about it.

The guys had been nice to you for the most part. You’d joined their North American tour to get as much time with Harry as you could. But they were always busy, between rehearsals and recording sessions you didn’t have any time together. Most of the tour was you just watching the shows and exploring the city on your own, it wasn’t exactly what you had expected.

You took a quick snap of Harry performing a solo verse on stage during the last song, before slipping away to make it backstage before the crowd dispersed and so that you could greet Harry as soon as he came off stage.

He was so insanely attractive on stage, the way his jeans clung to the same legs that you’d straddle him on, and that hair that you’d tangle your fingers in…

You stood in the wings of the stage, watching as Harry skipped off towards you, a towel in his hand that he used to wipe the sweat off of his head.

He ran into your arms, grinning, lifting you up and spinning you around.

You hand him a hair tie, and he swiftly ties his hair into a tight bun, keeping the hair away from his face. He knew you liked it when his hair was tied up, it meant you could see all his features properly.

“Good show once again, rockstar.”

“All for you, baby.” Harry said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I put on that show and you’re the only thing on my mind.”

You grin at him, your hands on his waist pulling him closer to you.

He quickly bucked his hips against your stomach, showing off the hardness forming under his pants, you look up at him, eyes wide and mouth watering.

“I’ve been waiting all day to get my hands on you, gorgeous.” Harry breathes, his hot breath hitting against your neck.

“Then you can have me. Where’s the hotel?” You ask.

“No hotel tonight, sweetheart. We’re overnight on the bus tonight, Dallas to Kansas City.”

“The bus?” You question, disheartened that you wouldn’t be getting the night in a hotel together like you expected.

“Don’t look so sad, baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, quiet enough that no one else in the room will hear him, “I’ve been waiting all day for that sweet cunt of yours, hotel or no hotel, I’m still gonna have it.”

Your heart skips a beat, “Harry, you share a bus with Niall and Zayn. They’ll hear us.”

Harry smirks. “Then you’re just gonna have to be a good quiet girl for me then, aren’t ya.”

You’d never had sex in the bus before, nothing had went further than a make out.

Harry joked around about how notoriously loud you were in bed, he joked around about how all the other guests at night would be kept up at night when he fucked you.

You had no idea how he expected you to stay quiet on a bunk in a tour bus.

“Get to my bunk,” Harry says, “I gotta pick my stuff up from my dressing room and I’ll meet you there.”

You done exactly what Harry said, you made your way to his tour bus and got straight into his bunk, pulling the curtain closed. It was as small as you would imagine, considering it was a bed in a bus.

You heard the door open soon after, with the guys making their way onto the bus and walking straight up to the small living and dining area at the front where the TV was. Harry however, kicked off his shoes and jumped straight in the bunk with you.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He grinned, pulling the curtain closed once again, and placing a fierce kiss on your lips.

“Hey.” You replied.

“I’m not wasting any time with you.” He said, “Sit here in between my legs, angel.”

He lifted you into position between his legs, brushing his face against your neck, his lips then attaching to your skin.

“Remember and be quiet.” He whispered into your ear, before returning to the soft skin of your neck.

You felt his hands on your thighs, moving closer and closer up your skirt, until his fingers brushed over the fabric of your panties.

You’d been soaking wet all night for him, watching him up on stage in those damn jeans, knowing damn well what was underneath and in store for you later.

It was soon after that Harry tore the panties from you, ripping them in half for his fingers to gain access to your pussy, your toes clenching as his fingers moved in rapid circles, the tension building between your legs.

He had to put one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Gagging you already and I don’t have a finger inside you yet, nevermind my dick.” He lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “How you gonna last, huh?”

You moan into his hand as he brings you to an orgasm. You feel your body quiver as he continues to pump his fingers into you, soaking them in your sticky cum.

“That’s it baby.”

This was one of the longest orgasms you’d ever had from just his fingers- something about the anticipation and naughtiness of being so dirty just feet away from his bandmates, paired with his hand firmly pressed over your mouth was too much for your body to deal with.

You were still processing your high when Harry moved so he was balancing on top of you, moving your body so your head was rested on the pillow. You watched as he slid his pants down his legs and shoved them at the end of his bed, and began to palm his cock over his boxers.

He was so big- it shocked you every time how he actually fit inside of you.

“Sorry for rushin’ baby, but I need to be inside of you,” He said quietly, “Just stay nice and quiet for me, okay?”

You nod, and he discards the underwear, and you hike your skirt as far up your hips as you can.

Balancing above you, he sunk his cock slowly inside of you.

“Harry, oh!-”

He slammed his hand over your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“Quiet, princess. We have company, remember.”

He stayed very still for a short moment, his cock still buried inside of you. He enjoyed watching you squirm, watching your eyes beg for him to move. Your sweet, sweet eyes. Those eyes he got to stare at while he performed, the eyes which were the last thing that he saw before he kissed you, and those eyes he got to see when he fucked you.

When he started to move his dick, thrusting his hips, your eyes squeezed shut.

“Darlin’” He whispered, “You open your eyes when I fuck you. Understand?”

You nod, opening your eyes again.

Harry was moving faster, his thrusts deep and hard. You had no idea it was possible to cum in five minutes purely from a man’s dick until you met Harry. He knew exactly what to do with your body in bed.

Your walls began to clench around him, your body shaking with every moment. By now you’d be screaming his name, but his hand was still firmly over your mouth. Any possible sound you could make was escaping through your nose as Harry’s dick pounded into you.

Harry’s bunk was small. It was crazy how little space this man needed to make you feel like this. This good.

“Cum on daddy’s cock.” Harry whispered. The tour bus TV was loud enough that hopefully they wouldn’t be able to hear the two of you by now, “Make a mess all over for me, baby.”

Harry reached for your clit, rubbing fast circles around your swollen bud until you reached your orgasm.

“Oh, god. Oh baby.” Harry groaned, indicating he was coming.

You moaned into his hand louder. The feeling of his cum filling you up.

“My sweet girl.” Harry moaned.

He felt so good.

So fucking good.

The thought of the others listening just made it all so more exciting.

[erodasfishtacos]

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on. 

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon. 

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!” 

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

**

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

**

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

**

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

**

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.  

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous. 

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

**

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub! 

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

**

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself. 

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him. 

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

**

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed. 

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen. 

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N. 

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny. 

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl. 

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

**

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks. 

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body. 

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

                                  -- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her. 

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips. 

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

[dootdootwriting]

CONGRATS FOR 600+!!! I SAW UR EVENT SO IF I HAVE THE CHANCE, IM TAKING IT

The whole alphabet for Thoma. (Gn reader)

PLEASE dont overwork yourself though. You dont have to do it all if youre tired or something. Thank you and congrats!

600+ writing event

ty for ur request anon!! also you're funny. overwork myself? how could i possibly do that when i'm already avoiding all of my schoolwork? entire alphabet for thoma coming right up! (under the cut for length)

fluff alphabet with thoma; gn reader; no warnings apply

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

- thoma enjoys pretty much any type of shared activities with you, but ultimately his favorite kind is any that involves food. he'll go on tours of inazuma city with you to find the best places to get ice cream, or he'll buy a whole bunch of food and see what kind of dishes you can make together! nine times out of ten it ends up being really weird and a little gross, but it's fun and he loves spending time with you.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

- he admires your ambition, your humor, and your own personal flair. he loves the person you are, and almost everything that goes into that, but he specifically loves the unique little traits that make you you.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

- his first instinct is to give you a big hug or rub your back, but only if he knows you're okay with it and that it would actually help. his first goal is to make sure you're okay, and then his second goal is to cheer you up: with bad jokes and kisses, usually

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

- thoma isn't super picky with how you two end up in the future, as long as you're together and happy. he wants to grow old with you, ideally, though however you do that will decide itself.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

- thoma is used to taking the lead in your relationship, but he's not necessarily more dominant or anything - he's just excited to be with you and wants to make sure you're just as happy as he is. your relationship is pretty balanced!

F-Fun (what do they do for fun with their s/o? what's their idea of a fun day out?)

- he loves loves loves going out on walks, especially in the city, and just finding random things that seem fun to do. there are a bunch of people playing cornhole over there, how about you guys join in for a game? they're selling a new kind of hotpot at that restaurant, better give it a try!

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

- he's definitely aware of everything you do for him, and he's also very grateful that you're with him. he makes sure to let you know that every day.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

- i think the only time thoma would ever keep something from you on purpose is if it would be somehow dangerous for you to know. other than that, he likes to make sure you're aware of everything you need to be. he likes his privacy like anyone else, but he also values communication.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

- being with you hasn't necessarily changed him (aside from the fact that you two are almost always seen together now) but it's definitely improved his mood a lot, not that it was ever really bad. he also likes to show off more now that you're around...

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

- thoma gets jealous relatively easily but is also not one to step in unless it's a situation in which you seem uncomfortable. he trusts you wholeheartedly, which sometimes means he has to keep himself from getting overly worried.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

- he's a very good kisser. thoma's kisses are playful and sweet, or alternatively full of reassurance and love. your first kiss was a little rushed and he was a little nervous (not that he'd ever admit that) but he knew it was the right time.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

- confesses accidentally while watching you do something that's actually pretty normal. you tap him on the shoulder and ask where he wants to go for lunch and he just kinda stares at you and then says "man i love you" and you're like. what. but he plays it off like he TOTALLY MEANT to say that and definitely didn't slip up.

M-Mornings (what's it like waking up with them? do they sleep late or wake up before the sun rises?)

- lazy lazy lazy. thoma knows he has to go to work but why would he do that when you're next to him all curled up into him? he can't just abandon you like that! fortunately the kamisatos are very forgiving, so when he shows up late they don't give him an earful.

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

- babe/baby, sunshine, and occasionally sweetheart but usually just to tease you

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

- when thoma first realizes he's in love with you it hits him like a truck and he has to sit down for a second to process it. after that he hangs around you a lot more often, and it's pretty obvious to anyone watching that he's in love.

P-PDA (how are they with PDA? is it fun to them or are they more reserved with their affection?)

- thoma's comfortable with pda and likes to tease you with it sometimes, unless you're someone who absolutely hates it, in which case he'll settle with handholding. otherwise, he'll give you random light kisses on the cheek or will grab you and pull you into him at random points throughout the day.

Q-Quirk (some random thing they do when they're with you for no reason in particular)

- his nose scrunches when he's trying not to laugh at you, which makes you laugh at him, which makes him laugh at you. congratulations! you have achieved pile of laughter.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

- thoma is very romantic and also values friendship with his partner as well. he's sort of a mix between cliché and creative - while he will definitely take you out for a fancy dinner and lend you his jacket, he will also take you out to the lake and push you in or make a date out of who can spot the most dogs on a day out.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

- one hundred percent he believes in you and will do his best to help you achieve any goals you have. ok thats the end of this headcanon i have nothing else to say GHCCN

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

- thoma loves trying new things! he doesn't need things to change constantly (and also that might be very tiring for him) but he does like to switch things up a little.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

- forgot to change it from "good" to "well." WHOOPS. anyway

- thoma is very empathetic, so he's quick to understand how you're feeling, though it'll take him a little longer to understand why it is you're feeling like that. once you explain to him, he knows just what to do, whether it be celebrate with you on a big win or comfort you or give you some space.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

- it's SO important to him. having you in his life is one of the most important things to him. he's also been with the kamisatos for a really long time though, so thoma will need a little bit to sort out where his priorities are. rest assured that you're definitely up there.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

- thoma really likes the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair. bonus points if you wash it for him (he'll return the favor)

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

- if you're ever available for affection, thoma will take advantage of it. he loves being close to you and generally just the feeling of loving and being loved in return, especially when that incorporates physical affection. listen he just really likes being kissed.

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

- when you're gone thoma will surround himself with things that remind him of you. he'll also occasionally call your name or say things to you absentmindedly before remembering you're not there at present. poor guy... he'll be very happy once you're home.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

- it depends on the lengths. the worst case scenario for thoma would be if he somehow had to choose between you and his work - that would terrify him, even though there's no way it would ever happen. other than that, since you're way up on his priority list, there's not much that he wouldn't do for you.

[itsallyscorner]

Being A Singer Who Is Part Of The Marvel Cast

Pairing: Marvel Cast x reader

Prompt: What it’s like to be a singer who is also a Marvel actress.

Warnings: none! This isn’t really a teen!reader, but it can be!

Side note: I’m using Ari’s music, so just pretend you’re Ari or something😂😂 Should I write imagines about this?

(Ya’ll already know I had to use my bby Ari😌)

(Gif from Pinterest)

Being a singer and joining the MCU was actually quite nerve wracking.

You weren’t sure if anyone would take you seriously and that everyone would just see you as some singer who got casted into the movie because you were well known.

In fact, Kevin Feige casted you because you represented the character you were auditioning for so well.

You remember your first day on set and how nervous you were to be surrounded by so many talented actors. You kept to yourself and sat by the sidelines while everyone reunited with each other.

I feel like Mark or Robert might come up to you first. They would probably approach you and be all like, “Hey! My kids listen to your music and I have to listen to your voice 24/7! It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Anthony would probably join in and be like, “Aye, I know you from the radio. You sing that one song that’s goes like, ‘I want it, I got it’. Right?”

After some introductions and filming scenes together, you’d feel comfortable with your new friends. Especially after some of them fangirled over you.

Tom (Holland) most definitely fangirled over you, I just feel it😂😂

A few years later they would become your most supportive and dedicated fans (and family).

They’re probably even more dedicated than your fans.

Whenever you drop a new single or a music video, expect them all to share it on every social media account they have.

Tom Hiddleston, who’s barely on social media, would come on just to promote your stuff.

@/ChrisEvans: Hey everyone! Just came to say that @yourtwitterhandle just dropped a new music video and you should all see it! You won’t regret it! Amazing as always @yourtwitterhandle 💙💙💙

@/RobertDowneyJr: The talented and oh so beautiful @yourtwitterhandle just released a music video for her new single! Go ahead and see for yourself to experience the greatness of (y/n)! I’m proud of you sweetheart!❤️

They would even share it on their Instagram stories and post about it because they’re so proud of you🥺

Sebastian and Tom (Holland) would probably post videos of them jamming to your song and yelling at people to listen to it.

Video: Sebastian with 34+35 blasting in the background, “GO LISTEN TO (Y/N)’S NEW ALBUM POSITIONS! DO IT! NOW!”

If you release an album while working on a Marvel movie, they would have little release parties with the whole cast and crew of the movie.

They will have a countdown on some projector and once it hits one everyone would scream and hug you. Then you guys would listen to the whole album with no stops.

When they see you writing in your journal during breaks on set, they would ask if you’re writing new songs.

Sometimes they would even help you brainstorm for lyrics or a concept for a song.

I feel like Evans would be really good at this because he’s good with words.

When they hear you humming something that doesn’t sound familiar they would ask you if it’s a new song.

Scarlett and Lizzie were always excited to hear your stuff.

“Oooo, is that a new song?”

“Come on, (y/n)! Can we get a little snippet please?”

“We promise to not leak it like last time!”

“Yeah! Neither Mark or Tom are here, you’re all good!”

Tom or Mark definitely leaked a few of your songs by accident. Not that they did it on purpose, they just recorded things at the wrong times.

When you sang they would always be quiet and just listen to your voice.

Whenever you hit a high note or sang something that was a bit sassy, there were always some reactions.

Chadwick would really listen to your stuff and just feel the music. When he’s done listening to a song, he would hug you and praise you on how good you did.

Anthony was always your hype man, whether you were singing or answering a question about your music, he will hype you up whenever he can.

“Mmm that’s right, sing it girl.”

“Damn, ya’ll heard that note?!”

“That’s right! Number 1 album in the world, baby. Get with it.”

“Ya’ll heard her right, five Grammy nominations. Gimme some.” He’d brag while fist bumping you.

Sometimes you would catch them singing one of your songs and you would feel all warm and giggly inside because it makes you happy that they enjoy your music.

When you guys aren’t filming and you’re off on tour, they would come to the shows that are in their city or whatever is nearest to them.

Sometimes you wouldn’t even expect them to be there and would be caught off guard while you’re singing.

For example, you were doing a show in New York and all of a sudden you see Paul Rudd just jamming to Thank U, Next in the pit.

“I know they say I move on too fast, but this one gon’ last. ‘Cause her name is— Paul?”

Whenever you guys are promoting new Marvel movies on morning/late night shows, you were always the musical guest.

They were always excited to see you perform. They loved to see you in your element because you always looked like you were having fun and so free. You always stunned them with your talent.

They could never wrap their heads around how you could sing and dance while having so much energy on stage, it truly boggled with their minds.

When they were asked about your music career, they would always say good things because it was true.

RDJ: “She’s just so talented. Like at such a young age, she’s accomplished so much! She’s writing music, releasing album after album, and on top of that she’s working on these films with us! I’m proud of her and proud to say that she’s part of this little family we have. We’re very blessed to have her.”

Brie Larson: “I wish I was like her at that age. I’m so proud of her, she’s a young woman just doing what she loves and not letting people stop her. I’m glad that young girls around the world have her to look up to. She’s going to do amazing things in the future.”

Evans: “Man, have you heard her new album? She really went all in on that one. You know, we’ve seen her grow up into the woman she is today, and you could hear that in her music. I’m glad that we got to experience that and have some kind of part in the legacy she’s building. I hope this means we get to have a musical now.”

Mackie: “That’s our little birdie. Yeah— we call her birdie cause she’s always singing or humming something. You could never have her or Evans together on set, they just burst out singing some random song and everything becomes a musical. No, but in all seriousness, she’s special. The talent she has, you can’t find that in everyone. She’s one in a million.”

They would be so proud of you when you finally win a Grammy or other awards for your music.

There would be videos of them reacting to the moment your name is called for awards like, Album of the Year or Artist of the Year.

When you guys have karaoke night, everyone would fight for you to be on their team.

You could’ve been your own team, but there was no fun in that.

You were like the last donut with red, white, and blue sprinkles (If you know where that’s from, I love u)

“Robert, she was on your team last time! You can’t have her twice!”

“Watch me, Evans.”

“Ayo! Hold up! Sebastian and I barely get to have (y/n) on our team!”

“You boys are childish! (Y/n)’s going to be on my team with Brie and Lizzie.”

Being part of the Marvel family was one of the many things you were grateful for in your career.

They gave you so much love and support as if they were your real family and you loved them all so much.

Even when their times with Marvel were done, they would still be there to support you no matter what, because they were your number one fans.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

The Little Girl

[Gif credit to @vinylackles]

Square: Never Been Kissed ( @supernatural-jackles tell me a story bingo)

Pairing: Jensen x adopted!child!reader

Summary: The Reader is adopted by Jensen and his family after a tragic event in her life. Soon after being adopted, she begins to learn what a family really does.

Warnings: Angsty-ish, child abuse/neglect (implied?), religion is mentioned in here (if you have your own belief, that’s fine we’re all different. It’d be boring if we’re the same.), there will be feels in this both fluffy and sad. You might have happy tears, who knows. Song inspired fic, song fic since the lyrics are in this.

Word Count: 1,840

Bingo Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: Inspired by the song The Little Girl by John Montgomery. I can’t italicize the lyrics; it’d look a bit weird and mess with the flow of your reading.

a/n2: probably not what one would expect for a “never been kissed” square. But I kept hitting a block with the typical, and this one came to me. Hope ya’ll enjoy nonetheless. :3

~

Her parents never took her to church. Never spoke of his name, never even told her of his word.

Her parent’s weren’t really believers. Her dad drank all day, her mom did drugs. Every night her dad would go out drinking. Her mom would be passed out in the chair as Y/N sat on the couch watching TV.

They never wanted to play. Or give kisses and hugs.

And the drinking and the fighting, just got worse every night.

Behind their couch, she’d be hiding. Praying for it all to stop.

And like it always does, the bad got worse. With every slap, and every curse.

Until her dad in a drunk rage one night, used a gun on her mom. And then took his life.

Some people from the city, took the girl far away. To a new mom and a new dad.

. . .

The caseworker drove young little Y/N up to her new home.

“This family is going to be good to you.”

“Not like my old family?”

“Nothing like them, they’re new parents to one of their own kids. And once they heard your story, they wanted you.”

She sat in the back seat, smiling, wondering how it was going to be like? Who her mom and dad were?

He pulled up to the house, parking it and turning off the car. He gets out to get her things from the trunk, and he stops by her door to help her out.

She picked up her backpack, and turned to see a fancy house.

Suddenly feeling nervous, she swallowed and mustered up whatever courage she had and followed her caseworker to the house.

The caseworker rang the doorbell.

She could faintly hear a women on the other side. “She’s here.”

She sounded excited.

The door opened, she found a man, a woman and small girl standing before her.

“Hi, Chris?” the man asked.

“Yes, you must be Jensen?”

“I am, this is my wife Danneel and my four year old daughter JJ.” Jensen says, introducing his family. “This must be Y/N?”

She nods, shying behind the caseworker.

“It’s okay sweetie, you’re safe here. This is your new home?” Jensen says, getting down to her level.

“How about we have a little tour, warm up to your new family?” Chris, her caseworker suggests.

The little girl nodded, following Chris inside the house as Jensen showed her around.

 That night, dinner went off without a hitch. Sure she was quiet, but she was still a bit shy. But now it was the time for her and her new little sister to go off to bed.

She gone off to her room, getting her night gown on. Heading to her bathroom that her and JJ shared. Danneel helping JJ make sure she was brushing her teeth alright, Y/N grabbed her toothbrush and began cleaning her teeth.

Danneel taking a hairbrush she brushed the girls’ hair.

She could see Y/N tense. She didn’t know what she was doing at first. Danneel continued to brush her hair, cautiously.

She could see her relax as she continued to brush.

“Your parents never did this, did they?” she asked kindly.

Y/N shaking her head as she brushed her teeth.

Danneel held back warm tears that threatened to surface.

What else have these parents not done for her? she wondered.

Once they’ve finished they went off to their respected rooms. Danneel walking JJ to her room, JJ wanting a story. Y/N headed to her room.

She was about to get herself settled when Jensen and Danneel entered.

“Busy day so far, huh?” Danneel asked.

She nods. “mm-hmm.” She hummed quietly.

“Tomorrow we can have a lazy day, all four of us, just relax and maybe even play outside a little bit. The weather’s supposed to be nice.” Jensen says.

“What do you play?” she asks innocently.

“We could do, tag, or hide and seek, or whatever JJ comes up with.” Jensen chuckles.

“Could you teach me?”

“You never played before?” Jensen asked.

She shook her head innocently.

Jensen’s jaw clenched as he fought back tears of his own.

“We’ll teach ya tomorrow. It’ll be fun.” He says with a smile.

Bending over he gives her a sweet kiss atop her head. Danneel following suit.

She laid there staring up at them with wide eyes.

“Get some sleep sweetheart, you had a busy day.” Jensen says, brushing her hair from her face.

Y/N nodded. Feeling herself grow sleepy, she let her eyes fall closed.

Jensen and Danneel smiled softly as they shut her light off, left her door open slightly letting the hall light in. And went back down to the living room.

 It was getting close to Jensen and Danneel to head to bed themselves.

Just as he shut the TV off they heard a sniffle from the dark hallway. Seeing their new daughter stand in the hall, holding her blanket as she rubbed the tears from her eyes.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Danneel asked.

“What’s got you crying?” Jensen follows up, as they both got up to go to her.

“Bad dream.” She cries.

“Everything’s okay sweetheart, you’re safe.” Jensen consoles, rubbing up and down her arm.

The little girl nods but couldn’t stop crying as a slight tremble shook through her. Jensen felt it.

Jensen without hesitation picked her up, holding her close. Walked back to the couch, sitting down with her in his lap.

“What are you doing?” the little girl asked?

“You never been cuddled before?”

She shook her head against Jensen’s chest.

He only held her tighter.

“Well I’m holding you, making you feel safe. It’s something parents should do to help their kids feel safe after a nightmare, being scared, or even if their kid is having a bad day.”

She nods against him.

Danneel sat beside Jensen, sandwiching the little girl between them.

“It wouldn’t hurt to stay up just a little bit longer.” She says.

Jensen nodding as he places a comforting kiss atop their daughter’s head.

 The little girl slowly adjusted to her new family. Getting kisses and hugs every night. Even getting one from her little sister.

Fourth of July with the family was a struggle for a moment. The loud noises sounding an awful lot like gun fire.

She ran inside, crying.

JJ the only one noticing. She followed her big sister into the house. Finding her behind a couch in the family room, crying.

“Sissy what’s wrong?” JJ asked.

“It’s like the night my mom and dad died. It sounds like the gun he used.”

“Your daddy used a gun?”

Y/N nodded tearfully.

“Well our daddy is not like that. Come on sissy, come back outside.” JJ tells her. encouraging her to come with her. Only to get a fearful shake of her sister’s head. And more tears.

She let out a fearful sob.

JJ took it upon herself to comfort her big sister. She got behind the couch with her, sitting in front of her, she kissed the top of her sisters head while cradling it. Having short arms she couldn’t wrap her sister in her arms not like how her dad does.

“JJ?” Jensen calls. “Y/N?”

The stifled cries from Y/N gave them away.

Jensen found the couch where she hid, to find JJ holding Y/N’s head in a hug.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sissy’s scared of the fireworks.”

Jensen having the gut feeling he knew why she was.

“Why are you scared honey?” He asks anyway.

“It sounds like his gun.” She says with her head on her knees.

Jensen’s heart sank.

“It’s okay honey, we’ll get you through this. How about you hang out inside for a bit. Okay?”

Y/N nodded.

“We can play in here, or we can watch movies in the movie room?”

“Okay.” She says. JJ and Y/N getting up to the movie room and watching movies.

 The little girl made so many friends at her new school. One of her friends took her to church one Sunday for the first time.

Sitting in Sunday school, the teacher walked in.

The little girl saw a picture of Jesus on the cross.

“I know that man, up there on the cross.” She says.

“Oh?” the teacher asks.

She nods. “He was there in my old house, and he held me close to his side. As I hid there behind our couch, the night my parents died.”

She told the teacher her story. Her old mom and dad, tainted with sin, neglecting her.

“But everything is fine now. My new mom and dad, they give me kisses and hugs every day. We play almost every day. Dad plays on TV; he plays a guy who fights monsters with his brother. My dad is a hero.”

“What about your new mom?”

“She brushes my hair every night, her and dad make me feel safe. She’s dad’s sidekick.”

Some kids giggled. The teacher even chuckled.

“That’s sweet honey, how about for the first bit of class, we draw our superheroes. It could be Christ Himself, or your parents. Let’s do that and you can take it home to show everyone.”

The teacher let the kids be and draw away.

 Y/N’s friend’s parent’s dropped her off back home.

“How was church honey?” Danneel asked as she waited outside for her.

“It was good, we drew our superheroes in Sunday school.” She says holding up a picture. Drawn in crayon and marker.

Jensen walked through the door outside, stepping beside Danneel wrapping an arm around her.

“How as church kiddo?”

“Good, I was telling mom I drew my superheroes.” She says.

Jensen peered over Danneel’s shoulder. Seeing the same drawing.

Of stick figures, one with Dad under it, wearing a cape with an S on it. Symbolizing Superman.

He saw another stick figure, the word Mom under it. Wore a skirt and a cape with a S on it as well.

Under the both of their stick figures, she wrote in big letters as big as they would fit on the paper, Thank you.

Jensen walked around, picking up Y/N, hugging her close. Danneel joining in the hug as she hugged her and Jensen as close as she could.

“We love you so much sweetheart, and you’re most welcome.” Jensen says, holding back the tears.

She smiled against him as her parents held her close.

At first growing up, she never knew what it was like to be loved, to be given a kiss or a hug. To be cuddled, or let alone held in a loving and cuddling way.

Now she doesn’t have to worry about another fight. She doesn’t have to worry about her dad going off drinking, when he’s always home with his family. She doesn’t have to worry about her mom doing drugs to get through the day, when her mom just needs to see her girls smile, to hear her girls laugh to make her day better. 

~

a/n: Did you cry? Here are some virtual tissues, I cried too hun. How’d you like it, let me know! Feedback is always appreciated!

Jensen Girls:

@luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories, @moonlight-on-her-skin, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy, @salt-n-burn-em-all, @lyarr24, @akshi8278

Dean Girls:

@flamencodiva, @anotherspnfanfic, @megzdoodle, @misfit0118​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 4/11/2021

[a-dorin]

crush

pairing: college au! maul x female!reader

word count: 2.411k

warnings: smutttttt, teasing, cursing, mentions of death threats, endless teasing, some filthy talk, nsfw, pet names

a/n: hi so this is my first time writing over 1k in months. please be gentle with me, as i'm really proud of this & i can never get enough of college aus. feedback is very much appreciated. request was anon, but i hope you enjoy <3

prompt: "Hi yes if this managed to make it in time for request, can I please request a Maul x Fem reader smut,,, like anything I’m a desperate hoe ahdhdbsbsbzb"

“so,” there’s the crisp crinkle of a page turning, “why’d you choose university of coruscant?”

“the atmosphere.”

“come on,” he scoffs, “are you a tour guide now? what major are you anyways? isn’t it something really nerdy? something along the lines of biochemistry? a minor in genetics or some bullshit like that?”

“i think you’re thinking of some other girl you’ve fucked because that is nowhere along the lines of what i’m studying. you weren’t even in the right college. some partner you are.”

sitting right across from you, was the star recruit of the university of coruscant. a lacrosse player who transferred from mustafar central. he was the reason why the team was expected to qualify for nationals. why they were supposed to even make it to the championship.

over the summer, it was almost as if the entire campus was buzzing about it. after all, it wasn’t often that the university was able to snag such good athletes. well, it was a division one school so of course it was a given that everyone was pretty good in their respective sport.

however, the zabrak sitting right across from you was utterly exceptional.

in almost every way.

all everyone raved about was his looks. which, you had to admit, the zabrak was gorgeous. with rich crimson skin, complemented by inky tattoos, sharp cheekbones, a dashing smile, and eyes that were pools of pure honey, it was difficult to deny the fact that he was attractive.

however, it was not hard to accept the other truth, either. he was quite acquainted with a majority of the women on campus, matching with almost every single one on tinder. that was if you were a part of a sorority or part of a sports team, of course.

what made matters worse was his intelligence. so, when you were paired with him for a project in your astronomy class, you learned fairly quickly that the zabrak was quite the smartass. and not a nice one, either. he seemed to enjoy harassing and berating you with his jokes and punchlines during every encounter.

he was everything you despised in a man. cocky, stubborn, and careless.

so why were you so attracted to him? you had absolutely no idea.

there’s a beat of silence, and the only noise the zabrak emits is a quiet exhale. the sound of his breath as it whistled through his teeth. yet, it’s followed by a quiet huff.

“you wish you could fuck me. you’ve mentioned it before, to that nautolan friend of yours, hmm? kit, right? he’s on the lacrosse team. your name may have come up a few times.”

heat flourishes through your cheeks as you glance upwards, any last remnants of focus completely crumbling away. your breath hitches in your throat at the smug smirk plastered on his lips, incisors poking against his lower lip.

golden eyes scour you, almost analyzing the sheer and utter shock plaguing your features. satisfaction glints within the depths, and you blink, scrambling to formulate some sort of response.

leaning forward, the zabrak tilts his head, so close that the tip of his nose grazed yours. this time, the words are a low rumble, harsh and gravelly.

almost like a growl.

“you told your little friend kit that you wished that i would just take you right here, in the library, and fuck you senseless. i find that interesting though, because you’ve been feeding me this little premonition that you absolutely loathe every aspect of my existence. now, do you actually want that little wish of yours to come true, or are you going to keep putting up the act and we act like this never happened?”

shrinking in your seat, you could almost feel the eyes searing into the both of you. there’s arched brows and low murmurs, a few giggles ringing through the space. swallowing thickly, you pull the collar of your hoodie over the lower half of your face, in a vain attempt to conceal your obvious embarrassment.

of course your fellow peers were staring. in the corner of your eye, you witness a group of girls roll their eyes. from the decals on their laptops, along with the other memorabilia, you pick out they’re chi omega girls, a popular sorority on campus.

you squeeze your eyes shut as you hear them whispering amongst each other. there’s a few points, and you were dead sure the dusty rose twi’lek in the black nike hoodie wanted to end your life right there.

maker, were you so flustered.

and he had you right where he wanted you.

“m-maul,” you stutter, fidgeting in your seat, “pe-people are s-staring.”

“do i look like i give a fuck?”

“i’m pretty sure the chi omega girls over there are going to send me death threats once they find my instagram,” you grumble, burying your head in your hands, “it’s your fault they’re all looking, you know.”

“hey!” the taunting tone in his voice sent your eyes wide open, strands of curses flowing from your tongue as he called over to the group, “i know we may have matched on tinder, but i’m not yours. i’m not territory to lay a claim on. i’m my own zabrak, you know. i can talk to other girls.”

letting out an exasperated sigh, you bury your head into your arms, laying your head on the table.

getting any work done with him was a lost cause.

“you okay? you gonna make it?”

for a moment, you melt under the tenderness in his tone, the way the words just sounded so gentle. he lays a hand on your shoulder, and you look up, the heat in your cheeks lingering as your eyes lock with his.

“we could get out of here, you know,” maul murmurs, “i live in an apartment with a few other guys on the lacrosse team. they’re all out, though. we could get some peace and quiet. and i could get you away from those chi clowns. i think they already found your twitter. i don’t like the way they’re looking at you either.”

i don’t like the way they’re looking at you either.

“um, sure. i don’t have anything else tonight. at least, i don’t think. i cleared my schedule so we could get this project done.”

“don’t worry about packing up your stuff. act like you’re on the phone or something and i’ll grab your things. i made this mess so i’ll clean it up,” it takes a moment to register the suggestion, but you knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

he wasn’t going to budge.

clearing your throat, you press your phone to your ear, “hello? oh hey! no, you didn’t catch me at a bad time. i just need to leave the room really quick.”

carefully, you weave your way through the maze of chairs and tables, pushing open the door. moments later, you’re outside, inhaling the brisk january air, grateful for the coolness as it seeps into your skin.

“you okay?”

you nod, probably a little too quickly, “yes.”

maul’s brow furrows, yet he doesn’t press any further, adjusting your book bag, “don’t worry about carrying this. i got it. i feel bad.”

“don’t feel bad i mean, you were just teasing--”

“i do,” he cuts in, “i feel bad because i know how you much you dislike unwanted attention. you always get so flustered when the professor calls on you with no warning. you either stutter just a little bit or you pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. i was a little bit of an asshole back there, and i apologize for that. i took care of everything with those chi omega girls too.”

in the darkness, you nearly trip over the sidewalk, “you.. you notice that?”

“i sit right by you and have been for the past two weeks,” he snorts, “i pick up on a thing or two. take a left here.”

all around you, the lights of campus glow softly, illuminating the surroundings with a warm golden glow. the night sky is clear, a few stars glittering over the light pollution of the city. you follow the zabrak, unsure of what to say.

“were.. were you serious about what you said earlier? did kit really say something?”

your knees buckle at the sound of his laughter. how it was so sweet and melodic as it rang out into the night.

“he did say something,” the zabrak raises a hand, pointing to a complex just a few hundred feet ahead of you, “i’m right here. you still up for the offer? i mean, we still have a week and a half but i don’t want to waste your time. you have a lot going on with your classes already. how’s chemistry going?”

“how do you know about chemistry?” you arch a brow, a shudder coursing through you as the breeze rolls through the campus.

“you bitch about it all the time on your instagram story?” the zabrak holds his id next to the door, pulling it open, “regardless of what you may think, i do pay attention to you sweetheart.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” your tone shifts, “i’m not sure what you’re referring to, maul.”

“well,” a hand finds its way to the small of your back, just above the curve of your ass, pushing you gently. realizing that you have to go up the stairs, you begin to trudge upwards, his hand still lingering.

“you have this belief that you’re unattractive because you don’t possess conventional beauty set by the standards of social media and society. i know this because you’ve talked about it on your twitter and your instagram. also, your comment about ‘some other girl i fucked’ really took me aback because i don’t just sleep with anyone. you know that, right? i have standards. and i have goals too, outside from ‘how many bodies i have.’ you also said that to kit, which made me upset. is that what you really think of me?”

in that instant, it was almost as if your heart dropped. you stop at the top of the flight, the clammy sensation coating your hands only growing. wiping your hands on your leggings, you dodge his gaze, clamping your mouth shut.

gods, were you in deep shit now.

fingers grasp your chin, forcing your head to the right. maul takes a step forward, pushing your back against the wall. the concrete sends goosebumps lining your arms, hairs standing on end.

“i asked you a question,” your heart thuds as he leans forward, “is that what you really think of me sweetheart?”

“i-i--” you stammer, heat flourishing to your neck, “t-that’s not i think of you. i was just frustrated because i didn’t know how to process the feelings i had and i’m sorry.”

“feelings?” maul’s lips were practically brushing against yours. and gods, were they so tantalizingly soft, “what kind of feelings?”

“i may have a crush on you.”

“a crush? what is this, fifth grade?” the tease was edged with somewhat you couldn’t quite place your finger on. what was it? lust? want? hunger?

“a crush,” you affirm, “i have a crush on you, maul.”

“you wanna know what i told those chi omega girls?” he inquires, one hand on the wall, the other reaching for your face, cupping your cheek.

“what did you tell those girls?” fuck. were you in deeper shit now.

“i told them we were talking. that you were my girl,” your lashes flutter at his touch, “and you know wanna know what else i told them?”

“what else did you say?” puckering you lips, you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking lightly.

the sound that you hear is nothing like you’ve encountered before.

“i-i,” you feel your lips curve into a smirk as he grits his teeth, “i told them that i was going to fuck you after this. that i was going to completely destroy you.”

“you didn’t---”

his mouth connects with yours for an open-mouthed kiss. it’s electrifying yet blissful, something that would sweep you off your feet yet keep you grounded, keeping you wanting more and more. gods, was it such a craving. to stay in this stairwell, to cherish this moment.

it’s gratifying, enough to make you light-headed with giddiness.

it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

yet, he pulls away, panting ever so slightly.

“fuck.”

“fuck?”

his jaw clenches, “you have no fucking idea how much i’ve been wanting to do that. ever since i met you. fuck, i need more. i need more of you. ‘taste so good.”

“we could always--”

“finish this in my apartment? yeah, i want to. but i don’t want to force anything on you and i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. i’ve just -- i’ve just been having dreams about you.”

“dreams?” you watch as the zabrak’s eyes squeeze shut, his body shifting away from yours. he’s heading towards the door now, nearly throwing it open.

“dreams about being inside of you. fuck. i need to know how you feel. if you’re as tight as i imagined. and fuck, i need to feel how wet you are too. how wet you get for me. have you ever tasted yourself before?”

you shake your head, “i haven’t.”

maul practically stalks down the hallway, finding his door. sliding the key into the lock, he steps inside, placing your bags on the floor, “would you rather study or would you rather let me express how i feel?”

thumbs loop through the pocket of your hoodie, pulling you close to him. fuck, you could feel him against your body. the stiffness of his cock underneath his sweats. how hot and bothered he was for you, practically aching for some sort of release.

“what do you mean ‘express how you feel’?” carefully, you dip a hand into the waistband, hand wrapping around the outline, squeezing gently.

“oh fuck,” maul throws his head back, moaning ever so slightly, “i-i may have a crush on you too. and i wanted to express how i felt. i-i’m not good with words.”

“why don’t you show me then?” your clit throbs as you feel along his shaft, fingers grazing over the ridges, thumb pressing against his tip.

“bend over the fucking counter then and i’ll fucking show you then, princess. you better not utter a single fucking word about this fucking project because it’s my turn to study you.”

☆☆☆☆☆

taggin' some maul moots: @maulieber @maulfrk @hounding-around @maximumninjavoid @xcertaindarkthingsx @zabrak-show @anakinswhore @arsonistvoyager @bonesaldente @catsnkooks@darthmaulslut

[lady-literature]

ayy, so ya’ll know that Miraculous/DC crossover I screamed about a while back? I found plot for it.

It is not quite finished yet, but it’s also so much longer than I originally planned on it being. (me: I’ll just write a fun little thing to get this out of my head!

me, 13k words later: oh no)

SO! Here’s a little sneak peak!

(or, find the finished product here!)

***

There is an unspoken rule, kept by any outsider who’s ever set foot in Gotham, that you should only ever visit the city once. Most find that visiting even once was already too much.

The most dangerous city on earth isn’t kind to its residents—much less strangers who don’t know how to watch their pockets or keep off the streets after dark. It’s gotten better, perhaps, in recent years since the Bat started lurking on rooftops, but that doesn’t mean the city is good.

Normal people stay as far from Gotham as they can get.

Marinette, (un)luckily, is far from normal.

***

The touring of Metropolis, New York City, and Gotham had been going well as far as Marinette was concerned, no matter what Chloé says to her about carelessness and naivety.

She’s glad her, Adrien and Chloé all decided to take this summer trip before they started University in the fall. It sucks that it was just the three of them, she wishes more of their friends could’ve tagged along but, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Kagami was in the middle of training season and couldn’t come. Luka was touring with his father, learning the tricks of the trade and other things. Nathaniel had already been commissioned to paint a mural downtown before they really finalized dates. Nino was in much the same boat as Nath, just with music and pitch meetings. Felix hated traveling and Alix was doing… something. Time travelling, probably. Or at least spending more time in the burrow.

Marinette was certainly starting to notice the way she’s begun talking about ancient history like she was actually there when she goes on rants now. Felix also probably noticed but Marinette’s also sure that he’s aiding and abetting her in exchange for insider information so…

She’ll probably have to deal with that later, unfortunately. But not today.

Their tour group was going to Amusement Mile later that afternoon, but had been given free roam until then. Marinette decided to spend the time up until lunch at the park near the meetup spot in Gotham Square and Chloé hadn’t complained or vetoed that idea so the trio happily camped out on the grass.

Marinette had returned to her sketch of Lady Gotham in between eating bites of her sandwich. She thinks she much preferred the style of it to New York City’s Lady Liberty. There was just something about the Statue of Justice that inspired her.

She’d been doodling about it since they left the marina yesterday. She also had plenty of pictures of the statue for inspiration later. There’s one she especially likes and thinks she might even print out to put up on her wall at home.

She’s playing with the idea of draping fabrics for formal wear designs like the roman togas both Lady statues seem to wear when a tennis ball rolls up and bumps into her leg. She has only enough time to move her sketchbook out of the way before a large dog bowls into her, tail wagging happily and barking up a storm.

“Oof!”

Adrien’s already halfway up the tree, startled out of his light doze by the barking and Chloé only daintily moved away from Marinette, leaving her to her fate. 

Pushing herself back up so she’s not crushed by what feels like one hundred pounds of dog, she comes face to snout with quite possibly the biggest dog she’s ever seen. From there, there was really only one choice of action Marinette could have followed.

“Oh! Well, aren’t you just the prettiest boy?” she tells the dog happily, reaching up to give him scratches. “Such a big boy! You nearly bowled me over, didn’t you?”

If it’s possible, the dog’s tail begins to wag even faster, enough that he accidentally overbalances himself and decides to roll with it, flopping onto his back and letting her rub his stomach. Marinette does so enthusiastically, her baby-talk to the dog devolving into broken not-words and the occasional exclamation of good boy! in both English and French.

The dog was a great dane, and had the softest coat of black fur she’s ever seen. There was a thick red collar around his throat, and Marinette stopped furiously rubbing his belly long enough to look at the silver tag attached to it.

“Titus, huh?” she says to the dog. “Such a strong name for such a distinguished boy, huh?”

“Oh god,” she hears Adrien groan from his spot still up in the tree. When she looks up, she finds him eyeing Titus with distrust, the absolute kitten. “I hope whoever his owner is, they’ve never read Shakespeare.”

Both her and Chloé blink at the strange non sequitur.

“Uh, why? Exactly?”

“Because they have shit taste in his plays if they do! Titus Andronicus is, like, Shakespeare’s worst play.”

Chloé glares up at him. “You’re such a nerd. Now stop being ridiculous and get down from there.”

“But, Chloé! It’s a dog.”

“Adrien Agreste!”

Marinette tunes out the two blondes as they devolve into sibling-like bickering. It’s a skill she’s had to learn and learn quickly with living in such close quarters with the pair for the last few weeks and also being friends with the pair for the past three years.

“Speaking of your owner, I wonder where they are?” She scratches under Titus’ chin thoughtfully. “Should we go look for them?”

Titus' head flops to the side, almost like he’s listening for something, before he’s clambering up onto his feet to tower over her. He’s almost twice as tall as she is sitting, which is just ridiculous. Why is everything in America so big?

Getting to her feet herself, Titus still stands almost as tall as her. She can rest her elbow on his back when she grabs his collar to make sure he doesn’t run off. He leads mostly, pulling her along at a steady trot she has to jog to keep up with.

He truly was such a well behaved dog and certainly lived up to his breed’s reputation as a gentle giant.

Or at least she thought so, until the call of “Titus! Here!” echoes through the park and he goes racing off towards it, dragging Marinette along for the ride no matter how much she tries to slow down.

Titus comes to a skidding stop, and Marinette barely stops herself from falling by keeping her arm around Titus.

“And who are you?”

Looking up, she finds a young man, probably around her age, staring down at her. He does not look happy—but most Gothamites don’t, Marinette’s found. He’s also, despite the almost glare he’s giving her, very attractive.

When she opens her mouth, incoherent French comes tumbling out, much to her embarrassment.

Ah. ‘Not being able to speak coherently to people she finds attractive’, she had wondered where that particular personality trait had been as of late. Even after so many years hanging around people who should be—and are—super models, she still acts like a spaz. Why is she like this?

The man raises an eyebrow at her, looking very unamused.

She tries again. “Ah- Je suis- I mean, I am very sorry. Your dog found me sitting over there with my friends and I figured I should find his owner instead of letting him just wander around and I assume your his owner because if you aren’t this is very embarrassing for me. Not that it wasn’t embarrassing before but, oh, I’m definitely rambling and I’m going to shut up now.”

Pressing her lips together as tightly as humanly possible so her tongue will stop making horrible life decisions, she holds Titus’ bright yellow tennis ball out to his owner.

The man huffs, taking the ball from her hand. “I didn’t ask for your life’s story.”

Marinette blinks and then frowns. Her hand tightens around where she’s still holding onto Titus’ collar and she has to very carefully unclench her hand before she breaks it or something.

“I didn’t give it,” she says through clenched teeth, embarrassment abruptly forgotten. There’s no need for the man to be rude.

He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me.”

She doesn't really have anything to say to that. Instead, she turns to Titus, who’s sitting like the good boy he is. She very seriously leans down to eye level—she does not have to lean down far—and tells him, “Your owner is an ass. But you are still a very good boy.”

She plants a kiss to his forehead that makes his tail wag, gives him one last scratch behind the ears and walks back towards her friends without looking back at the rude man. 

***

Colonel Bug: so I met kagami and felix’s lovechild today

MY HONOR: I would never stoop so low.

the evil twin: I would never stoop so low.

ShutUpTurtleMan: Nettie

dearest

the evil twin: Okay first of all-

ShutUpTurtleMan: sunshine

light of our collective lives and reason I breathe

what the fuCK

YoureUnderAgreste: Kagami, my love, how could you?

The Betrayal™

GottaGoFast: ew

Queen of Salt: ew

sneaky snake: Send pics or it didn’t happen

give me art or give me death: [a photo of the ‘right in front of my salad?’ meme]

Queen of Salt: wait

I was with you all day when did this happen?

was it the owner of the dog that attacked you?

ShutUpTurtleMan: WHAT

Colonel Bug: he didn’t attack me!

chloe stop spreading misinformation!

titus was a sweetheart!

YoureUnderAgreste: incorrect

he was, in fact, a menace

give me art or give me death: wait was Titus the dog or the lovechild

ShutUpTurtleMan: ^^^ ?

Colonel Bug: shut up adrien

all animals are great

stop being elitist

give me art or give me death: okay but seriously what kind of dog was it

the evil twin: why exactly was he our lovechild?

GottaGoFast: because of the dramatic tryst you and Kagami had obviously

keep up

Colonel Bug: because he was as pretty as he was rude actually

And gave me the feeling that he’d rant about his honor and parentage if it given the chance

MY HONOR: you say something once as an unsocialized teen

GottaGoFast: MARI YOU DOG!

ARE GETTING TAIL IN GOTHAM OF ALL PLACES?

Colonel Bug: no alix

did you not read the part about how rude he is

YoureUnderAgreste: i mean,,,,,

Felix is pretty rude and we all still like him

ShutUpTurtleMan: and Chloe

YoureUnderAgreste: oh good point nino

Colonel Bug: i hate it here

i spoke to him for like 2 seconds

Queen of Salt: Okay first of all-

YoureUnderAgreste: so i mean it’s not really a dealbreaker yaknow?

Colonel Bug: this familys a nightmare

i shoulda left you all on the street corner where i found you

YoureUnderAgreste: BUT CHA DINDT

ShutUpTurtleMan: but yA DIDNT

GottaGoFast: BUT CHA DIDNT!!

sneaky snake: but ya didn’t

***

I have every no regrets. stay tuned for more!

[nalgenewhore]

ends of the earth

elide x lorcan, modern au/band au (catfish and the bottlemen), light angst with a happy ending, word count: 5197

He’d been called to place five minutes ago, but Lorcan was still in the dressing room, his phone tight in his grasp. 

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. 

“Hey, it’s Elide, leave a message!”

Gods-damn it. 

He clenched his jaw as the automated voice told him to speak after the beep, his knee bouncing up and down. Stealing one last glance at the door, like someone would burst through it and drag him away before he could say what he needed to, Lorcan waited anxiously. 

Beep.

“Hey, Lee, it’s me. I, um, I don’t have that long ‘cause I was supposed to be in my place… five minutes ago, but I just wanted to say that…” Lorcan trailed, narrowing his eyes as he tried to order his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I’ve been gone so long.” His knee bounced again, uncontrollably. “I really miss you. Just call me back, please. I love you, sweetheart. Forever.”

With that, Lorcan hung up and shoved his phone into his bag before standing and grabbing his electric guitar from its velvet-lined case. He didn’t let any of the attendants touch it, or anyone else – besides Elide – for that matter. 

He carried it out of the room with him, ducking his head as he moved through the backstage area to the left wing of the stage, where the rest of his band was waiting. Fenrys saw him first and clapped his hands together slowly, drawling, “Well, boys, aren’t we blessed? Our—”

“Can you not? For one fucking day?” Lorcan snapped, not having any of the energy he usually had to deal with his drummer’s mouth. Fenrys’ eyes widened and he all but froze, shocked by Lorcan’s response. The others quieted as well, all looking at Lorcan. He scowled and slipped the strap of his instrument over his head, tersely adjusting it so that it hung low over his hips. 

When his bandmates were all still silent, he looked up, shame flooding through. “Fen, I’m- I’m sorry. It was just… stuff with ‘lide.”

“‘s’ok,” Fenrys said, shrugging. He grinned wildly, “I was being a shit.”

Lorcan nodded once in thanks or acknowledgement of Fenrys’ unsaid forgiveness, he wasn’t sure which it was. He sat down on some ledge, mindlessly tuning his guitar as they waited for the opening band to wrap their set up so that they could play.

Someone sat down next to him. Without looking, Lorcan knew that it was Rowan. The bassist was the most level-headed of them all and the only one with enough emotional maturity to talk to Lorcan about the growing issues between him and his girl. Rowan bumped his shoulder into Lorcan’s. “You, ah… feel like… talking ‘bout it?”

Lorcan snorted and chuckled lowly, “You know, not even a ‘lil bit, Ro.” He lifted his head and rolled his eyes at Rowan’s pointed look. “Hellas below, man, it’s just… we aren’t breaking up.” Neither of them wanted that, that Lorcan knew. “The touring’s a lot for both of us. It’s a lot for all of us,” he added, glancing at the rest of the band, who were all lazing on their behinds. 

Rowan nodded, “Yeah. It is.” His shoulders slumped, straining against his loose cotton shirt, which was only three-quarters of the way buttoned. “You know that if you need to talk, I’m here, right?”

The lead singer just barely managed to stop his second eye-roll and nodded, lips tight. “Mm-hm. I know.”

Luckily, just then, the backstage lights flashed and Lorcan was spared from further needling. Someone came by as their opening band filed off of the stage, looking high off the ecstasy that was performing in front of a live crowd, and handed Lorcan, Rowan, Vaughan, Fenrys, and Connall their earpieces. 

Lorcan fit his in his left ear, as he had a new double conch piercing in the right, and tucked his necklace beneath the collar of his faded t-shirt. It was a simple piece of jewellery, the only one he never took off. The chain was gold and from it dangled a viper pendant, twin to the same piece that hung from Elide’s slim throat. 

Fenrys and Connall were the first to walk on, one to the drumset and the other to the keyboard. They shouted back at the crowd, always ones to rile them up and feed off of the crowd’s energy. 

Next was Vaughan, the backup guitarist, who wore a prideful smirk, his dark eyes scanning seductively over the mass of fans. Lorcan shook his head at his cousin and Rowan strolled out, plucking absentmindedly at his bass. He waved after he found his position behind one of the three microphones. Vaughan was behind the other, playing a riff on his guitar, his fingers sliding up and down the fretboard.

Lorcan waited a moment more, his eyes closed for a fleeting second. When he opened them, he stepped out, the lights immediately blinding and heavy on him. The cheers and screams from the sea of people were deafening, but he was used to it. 

He put on a golden grin, one corner of his lips higher than the other. Elide always liked to kiss him when he was smiling like this, pressing her round and sweet lips against the corner, her fingertips resting on his jawline. 

The smile faltered for a second. The very next, it was as though he’d glitched, pasting that same smile back on. Lorcan lifted one hand to pull the microphone closer to him, “Evening, Varese. How we all doing? Good?” They roared back and he chuckled, nodding his head, “Alright, alright, no need to scream and shout. That’s our job.” Lorcan glanced at the boys one by one, nodding when they nodded at him. 

“Let’s kick it!” Fenrys shouted, tapping his drumsticks together before he launched into song. 

Lorcan heard the music in his earpiece and played his guitar as he began to sing, “You’re simpatico… and of all the lift-homes and all the mixed feelings, you’re cuts above…”

He knew that the crowd was singing along, but he couldn’t discern the lyrics that ripped from their throats. 

“And I’d co-o-o-me… you can leather me with your li-i-i-ips…” 

Fenrys slammed down against his drums and Lorcan sang roughly into the mic, his eyes closed, “I’ve got to give it to you – you give me problems! When you are not in the mood…”

One song bled into the next and into the next until they reached the track they hadn’t put on the album. Lorcan had written it days ago, when they’d been flying to the next city. The minute they’d touched down, the whole band was asking their manager to take them to the nearest studio to record and perfect it. 

Unlike their other songs, this one was Lorcan’s only. Only he had written the lyrics, only he had figured out the chords. The boys had just known how badly he needed this, so they’d agreed without question, without hesitation. 

“This next song’s…” Lorcan started, his heart thumping against his ribcage, “about a very, very special girl. My favourite girl in the whole world, really.” And I hope she hears this. He looked back at the others and nodded, his lips set in a grim line.

He plucked at his guitar, leaning into the mic, “I got misled, mistook, discard… anything that I said. See, I’m not the type to call you up drunk, but I got some lies to tell.”

Fenrys joined in gently, as did Connall. Still, it was only Lorcan who sang, “She hates her work, but loves to flirt.” When he’d first met Elide, they’d both been working at the same recording studio. People had told him she flirted with everyone, so he hadn’t known that she was even interested until one night she’d taken his face in her hands and kissed him in plain sight of all their coworkers, flipping them off as she did so. “It’s a shame she don’t work with me.

“She gets uptight, don’t like when I’m gone, but she won’t let on to me,” he continued, hating the fact that Elide was pulling away from him and hating the fact that he didn’t know how deeply his absence affected her. 

Lorcan stepped back as they played up to the chorus, playing a little harder and letting a little more grunge bleed into the notes. He moved back to the mic, singing louder as the rest of the band started to play, “I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie… I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try.”

He didn’t hear the cheers of the crowd, ignored them as they shouted his name and screamed. This wasn’t for them – it was for Elide. All Lorcan could do was play hard enough so that maybe she could hear, never mind that she was an ocean away. 

Lorcan let go of his guitar, letting Vaughan take the lead when he took the mic, “I got mistook and took dissent, and it’s not as if you didn’t no-otice.” He leaned forward, “But I try to steer you clear of this place and I wound up with nothing to show for it!”

He stood up again, pushing his guitar around his back, “You never got that from me. She said you never got that from me, she said you never got that from me… 

“Oh, but I said you got that look from me-e,” his throat felt raw. With the speakers behind him, Lorcan could hardly hear himself. As the song built back up to the chorus, Lorcan took his guitar back in hand and strummed aggressively, his head moving back and forth with the beat. 

“I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie, I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try.” Lorcan inhaled sharply, “I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie, I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try!”

He walked backwards a few paces for his guitar solo, only looking at the ‘E’ carved into his instrument, right where the neck connected to the body. Tears burned his eyes and Lorcan blinked them away, tensing his jaw. 

Then, he pulled the microphone towards him and let go of his instrument. As he sang the last lines, one hand pushed his long hair back, “I got misled, mistook, discard… anything that I said. See, I’m not the type to call you up drunk, but I’ve got some lies to tell…”

<3<3<3

Elide bit her thumbnail as the phone line droned on. Her hands shook and she paced back and forth in front of their living room window. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Please, please, please pick up. 

She’d watched Lorcan’s show through a livestream from somebody in the crowd. It’d been shaky and grainy, the audio blown, but she’d heard the song and more importantly, what Lorcan had said before it.

The line clicked, “Sweetheart?”

“Hi,” she breathed, her voice airy. Elide cleared her throat, “H-hi. It’s me.”

Lorcan chuckled. He sounded almost… relieved. “I know, I just- I just didn’t… know if you were going to call.” 

Her heart sank slightly and she opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Elide knew that there was a… there was a rift between them and she hadn’t made it easy for him to fix it. He doesn’t make it easy to love him, either. “I watched your show, baby. That new song…” she trailed off, not sure how to force the words out. 

“Did… do you not like it?” he asked, sounding nervous. 

“No! No, I loved it,” Elide said, sinking onto the windowsill and lifting her foot to rest her heel against the ledge. The hem of her boyfriend’s shirt bunched around the tops of her thighs and she fingered the holes dotting the edge. “It was great, Lor, really.” Elide looked down, her cheeks heating despite the fact that she was alone and he couldn’t see her. “Is it about me?”

“Lee… everything I write is about you,” he mumbled. “It’s all for you. I- I…” Lorcan exhaled. “Just give me a minute, won’t you? I can move somewhere else and we can FaceTime?”

She grinned and nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that. I miss seeing your face.”

“I miss seeing you too,” Lorcan murmured. “Ok, I’ll call you back, alright?”

“Ok. And I love you too. Always.” 

Lorcan clicked his tongue lightly, teasingly saying, “You’re such a sap.”

Elide rolled her eyes, “Good-bye.”

He was laughing as he hung up and Elide got to her feet, prancing over to their bedroom. It was late and she knew she most likely fall asleep while talking to him. It had been hard to sleep without him next to her. 

Elide had just settled in when her phone rang again, this time with a FaceTime call from Lorcan. She pressed the green icon and grinned at her screen as the call connected, her boyfriend’s face coming into focus, even if it was a little grainy. “Hi, baby.”

Lorcan’s smile was lopsided, her favourite smile of his. “Hey, sweetheart.” He was in his hotel bed, one hand tucked behind him, his head cradled by his tattoo-covered bicep. “How’re ya doing?”

“I’m ok,” she said, propping her phone against the headboard and cushioning her chin with a fluffy pillow. “I went to the studio today and worked on a new song.”

“Really? D’you reckon it’s any good?”

Elide shrugged, “Not sure yet. It doesn’t have that… it doesn’t have that thing, you know?”

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

For a moment, neither of them knew what to say, so they didn’t say anything. 

Then, they both opened their mouths to talk at the same time. “I wanted to—” “We should– oh, you- you can go.”

Elide nodded, trying to summon courage she wasn’t sure that she had. “I’m… I wanted to talk. About you being gone.” Lorcan dipped his chin, his face grave as he encouraged her on. Tears sprung in her eyes and she whispered, “I miss you. Everything, everything comes back to that. I miss you. Whenever I’m angry at you, it’s ‘cause you’re not here and I- I just get more and more mad at that.” She wiped her cheeks and looked down at her hands, flicking her eyes to her bitten nails. “I’m biting my nails again.”

“You hate biting your nails,” Lorcan said softly, his eyes reflecting deep sorrow. “And-” he shifted, sitting up. “I know. I know that I’m gone too much. I know that- that I’m never there.” He frowned. “I want to come home, sweetheart, I want to be with you, I promise. I’m- I’m so tired of touring.” Lorcan rubbed his eyes. “Um… I talked to the boys. We’re… we don’t want to tour anymore. We’re just done.”

She gasped softly, her vision blurring. In a whisper, Elide told him: “Don’t say that if you don’t m-mean it.” 

“Lee, of course I mean that. You really think I would…”

Elide shrugged, “I feel like I don’t know you, L. You’re... you aren’t Lorcan, you’re,” she did a dramatic hand gesture, “Lorcan Salvaterre, lead heartthrob of the Bloodsworn. And I still think that name is far too reminiscent of teenaged angst.”

He snorted and closed his yawns, rubbing his head against the crinkling crisp pillow. “Yeah… probably right about that one, love.” Lorcan sighed through his nose and slit his eyes open, “I know we aren’t finished with this.” 

She nodded, fiddling with something. “Lor…” her lips trembled. “Your tour is done in a month.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But, we- we can make it. Can’t we? I mean, I’ve already written the sad song where I’m the shit boyfriend, right? We can- we can talk.” Lorcan pushed his silky hair back. 

“Yeah. I’m just sad. I… I’m scared that I’ll feel like this again and we’ll never make up again. What happens then?”

Lorcan ran his tongue over his teeth and the muscles in his jaw feathered, “Lee, I… do you want to break up? Is that what you want?”

The words hit her like a blow and Elide physically recoiled, “No, of course that’s not what I want!” She made a helpless motion with her hands, “But what if that’s not enough? What if the fact that we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together isn’t enough?” Her throat was tight, so she swallowed past it, “I… I’m scared.”

“So am I,” Lorcan said. “We want the same things, I just… I think that’s enough. Can’t that be enough?”

She shrugged and looked down at her lap, picking at the pillow case. “Maybe it is. I guess- well, not guess, but… maybe that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. Elide smiled back at him, her heart fluttering. 

They spoke for a while more until their voices became drowsy and heavy with slumber. Elide pulled the duvet over her and snuggled her cheek against the pillow that smelled most like his cologne. Her eyes slipped shut and she struggled to open them again, only for them to fall shut again. 

Lorcan laughed softly, “Sweetheart, go to sleep. You’re falling asleep.”

She sighed softly and hummed, “No, ‘m not. ‘m just… resting, baby.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing, hmm?” he teased, his smile easy and warm. 

Elide nodded, “Yeah…” She pursed her lips and exhaled a puff of air, pulling the duvet up tighter. “Mmm… g’night, Salvaterre.”

“Sweet dreams, Lochan.” 

Mere seconds later, Elide fell asleep. When she woke up in the middle of the night, her phone was still in her hand and she smiled at the screen, where the call was still happening and she could see her boyfriend sleeping like the dead. She took a screenshot and texted it to him. 

sweetheart: Sent One (1) Photo Attachment 

sweetheart: ur kinda cute or whatever. i think im kinda in luv with u. 

Then, she fell asleep once more, waking up in the morning to a screenshot he’d sent of her. 

salvaterre: Sent One (1) Photo Attachment

salvaterre: i know im completely in love with you

<3<3<3

“Lorcan!” called their manager’s assistant, Luca, as he held Lorcan’s phone up. “Someone’s calling you!”

Their rehearsal, if it could even be called that, paused. Fenrys was working on his drum tricks, but Lorcan wasn’t sure that him attempting to play while Vaughan and Connall threw extra drumsticks at his set could be considered working.  

Lorcan nodded and put his guitar down, loping across the room. When he was close enough, he saw that it was Elide and reached out, “Thanks, man.” Luca nodded, his curls bouncing. Lorcan picked up the call and ducked out of the rehearsal room, lifting his phone to his ear, “Hey, you.”

“Hi,” she replied. “I just wanted to check in. Luca told me you guys were rehearsing.”

He snorted and walked down the dark hallway, “Rehearsing’s a bit generous, Lee. Ro is hungover and Vaughan and Connall are throwing drumsticks at Fen.”

A bright laugh bubbled from her lips. “Gods, I don’t know why I believed Luca. That boy is too kind.”

“He really is, I don’t know why he wants to work for us bastards.”

Elide hummed, “Yeah, I don’t know either. You guys aren’t that nice.”

Lorcan found a forgotten corner and sat down, his long legs splayed out before him. “We really aren’t.” He looked at his worn Chuck Taylors, the laces frayed. “How’re you?”

“Well… I’m good. I, um, I booked a gig.”

“You did? Lee, that’s amazing,” he said, sitting up straighter. “When’d you book it?”

She hesitated to answer, “...three weeks ago. I… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you but… yeah.”

Lorcan shook his head, “No, no, it’s fine. Are you excited? You haven’t played anywhere in a… long time, love.” When his band had started playing, Elide had played too, appearing in local bars and a few festivals. Then she’d stopped. She still wrote songs and recorded them, but nothing was released. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m feeling good. I’m excited,” Elide told him. “Really, I am.”

“But…” 

There was something she wasn’t saying. 

Her swallow was audible and her voice was quiet when she spoke again, “It’s- it’s next week. And I want you to come, but you can’t. I know that.”

His heart stutterd to a stop. Lorcan opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “I- um, I’m- I’m sorry. That I won’t be there. I wish I could be.”

She laughed, but the sound was forced, “Lor, I don’t want your apology. You’ve already apologised and… it’s just something that is. The facts are that I have a gig, I want you to be there to see, but you’re on tour. And this- it’s your dream, isn’t it?”

You’re my dream, he thought. Lorcan flicked his eyes upwards, lying through his teeth, “Yeah. Yeah, this… this is my dream. I’m touring the world and sharing my music with everyone. I never thought I’d be here.” And you were supposed to be right here with me. 

“Exactly, so, I’ll play more gigs. You’ll see them. It’s not like this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, you know,” Elide joked. “You- you don’t have to worry about this one show, Lor.”

“Yeah…” he said, frowning slightly. Lorcan inhaled, “Listen, I’ve got to go back to rehearsal, but I’ll call you after?”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course. Talk to you later, then.”

“I love you, always.”

“And I love you, forever. Bye, baby.” Elide hung up and Lorcan slowly got to his feet, putting his phone in his back pocket. 

He walked back to the rehearsal room, his brow furrowed in thought. Lorcan tapped the side of his fist against his leg as he went back. 

When he walked back in, Malakai, their manager, glanced at him, “Are you… alright there, son?”

“Yeah,” Lorcan lifted his head. “I just need your help with something.”

<3<3<3

salvaterre: i don’t have time to call you before, but you’re going to do amazing and i love you so so so much. 

salvaterre: you’re going to kill it 

Elide stared down at the message, using it to ground herself. She stole yet another glance at the area before the makeshift stage and her heart hammered a bit harder. Her hands shook, so she breathed in deeply and tried to calm herself. 

Her friends were sitting around the table closest to the stage, all sipping on their drinks and waiting excitedly for her to start. 

The bartender, who was also the owner of the bar, walked up onto the stage and nodded once at Elide for confirmation. She nodded back at Gavriel and he turned to the microphone, “Folks, I want to thank you all for coming out tonight and please give a warm welcome to Elide Lochan!” 

Aelin and Lysandra cheered, while Nesryn simply clapped along with the others, smiling gently. 

Elide shook her head and put her phone in her guitar case before she walked out, sitting on the stool. Gavriel helped her adjust the microphone, “Is that alright?”

She nodded and adjusted her acoustic guitar, “Yes.” 

“Alright, then. Good luck.” Gavriel walked off, leaving her to play. 

“Um,” Elide said into the mic, looking over the crowd, “well, this is my first gig in quite some time and I’m… really happy to be up here, so, I hope you all enjoy it.”

Someone let out a loud ‘whoop’ and she laughed, strumming the strings idly. 

She took a bracing breath and then started to play a song she’d written years ago. It was her safety song, Elide supposed, the one she always played. People always seemed to like it and when she used to play more regularly, it had been a frequent request. 

As Elide played, her mind wandered, thinking about the lyrics she was singing and what they meant. 

Much like her boyfriend, everything she wrote was for him. 

Singing about him, it both saved and ruined her at the same time. 

As the last notes rang out, Elide swallowed, her chest aching. There was a gentle applause throughout the bar and she smiled. “My last song of the night is a brand new tune and I’ve never actually played it in front of anyone else, so please be gentle. It’s called Hourglass and, yeah.” Her cheeks heated in embarrassment over her awkwardness and she ducked her head as Aelin cheered, laughing softly, “Thank you, Aelin.” 

She exhaled once more, “Ok…” Elide strummed gently, one cowboy-booted foot up on the spindle of the stool she sat up. “You know, when you’re gone, I struggle at night, dreams of you fucking me all the time… 

“Though I know you’re tied up and I know your phone’s fucked, I’m craving your calls like a soldier’s wife…” she sang gently, her eyes shutting, “I wanna bring you home myself, bring you home myse-e-elf.”

Elide strummed a little louder, “Come back, move in, mess my place… chest infect me, waste my days… ‘cause I know you love to drive me up the wall, I know you love to drive me up the wa-a-all… 

“I wanna bring you home myself, bring you home myse-e-elf…” 

The crowd was watching in silent rapture. 

“And I’m so-o-o… impatient when you’re not mine. I just want to ca-a-a-tch up all on the lost time,” her voice was sultry like it usually was and she couldn’t help the emotion from bleeding into her words like she normally could, “And I’ll say I’m sorry if I sound sordid ‘cause all I really ever want is you…”

Elide vocalised sweetly as she played to the last verse, a small smile on her lips, “Offer my hand and I’ll take your name, share my shower, kiss my frame, ‘cause I wanna carry all of your children and I wanna call them,” she plucked more gently, “stup-id shit…”

She relaxed, indicating the end of the song, and she was met with loud applause. Elide smiled widely, her hands shaking. 

She heard a familiar hurray and snapped her eyes to the table her friends were sitting at. Between Aelin and Nesryn, Lorcan sat, wearing a proud grin, his dark eyes glittering. Elide gaped, clapping her hand to her mouth. 

Aelin got up and rushed to her, taking her guitar as Elide stood on shaky legs. “Wha- what- baby?” 

He nodded once and Elide laughed, launching herself at him the moment he stood up. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, blinking back tears, “I- I can’t believe you’re here.” 

Lorcan banded his arms around her waist and hugged her tight, one of his hands moving to press against her upper back. “I’ve been gone too long,” he said quietly. “And I didn’t want to miss this.” 

Elide slowly pulled away and tilted her head up, tears lining her eyes, “I’m- gods, I don’t even know what to think. I’m, I’m so happy.” She laughed warmly, her hands squeezing his shoulders. After a quick look around, Elide nodded her head to the side of the bar, where they could have some privacy. 

Lorcan nodded and went with her, taking their seats at an empty table. Elide sat up as high as she could and stretched over the small, round table, one hand tugging his jaw closer to her. She pressed her lips against his, somewhat melting at the first gentle brush of his tongue over the seam of her mouth. Elide parted her plush lips and gasped when his tongue licked over hers. 

They drew back, never ones to display much affection in public. Lorcan’s hand cupped her face and he stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “I missed you, sweetheart.” 

“I missed you too,” Elide said, practically beaming. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”

“Oh, well, why didn’t you tell me you’d written something new? What happened to our deal, hmm?” He hooked his pinky around hers, “We pinky promised, Lee, that means something, you know.” 

One of the promises they’d made to each other was to always share their music with one another first. 

Elide rolled her eyes, “Call it even, then?” 

“But of course, sweetheart.” 

She grinned, unable to control her smile, “I still can’t believe you’re actually here.” Lorcan’s hand was resting on the table and Elide ran her fingertips over his knuckles and the various tattoos he had. “How… do you feel about it? The song?” 

“It’s beautiful,” he replied softly. “You’re extremely talented, Elide, d’you know that?” She blushed and lifted her eyes to his face. Lorcan softened as he took in her face and murmured, “C’mere,” as he pulled her off her stool and fit her between his thighs. He tipped her head back and kissed her once more. She melted into him, her lashes fluttering against his cheeks as she closed her eyes. “Lee,” Lorcan started, pulling back only enough to rest his forehead against hers.

Elide could see that he was going to say something and she quickly pressed her fingers to his full lips, shaking her head. She didn’t say a word, but he understood what she was telling him. There was nothing to say. Lorcan folded his arms around her and tucked her into his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head. His thumb stroked over her hair. 

She smiled and inhaled the cedar and sage scent that clung to him like always. Idly, Elide toyed with his necklace, which was twin to hers. “So… how long do I get you this time?” 

“A week,” he said, almost reluctant. “But, I was kinda thinking that after you…” Lorcan trailed off, nervous that she would say no. 

Elide lifted her head, her hands resting on his thighs, “After? What do you mean after?”

He inhaled and spoke, his words rushed and indiscernible, “Italkedtotheboysandweallagreeditwouldbekindafunifyoucamewithusandyoucould—“

“Baby, slower, please,” Elide laughed. Lorcan blew out a breath and nodded, anxiously shoving his hair back, then settling both of his hands on her hips. 

“If I asked you to come with me for the rest of the tour, what would you say?” 

She gawked at him, almost taking a step back. “Are- are you serious, Lorcan?”

A nod. 

“You really mean this? I would- I would come with you and do… what?” 

He shrugged, “I dunno. You could sing with us. Feature artist.”

Elide laughed again, holding one of her hands to her mouth, “Of course – I would say yes.” 

Relief flooded through his face and he smiled, “Really? You’d come with me?”

“Lorcan,” Elide said, softly shaking her head. She rose on her tip-toes, her lips brushing over his, “I would go with you to the ends of the earth and beyond.” 

With a rakish grin, Lorcan closed the distance between them. 

Always, they promised each other. I will be with you always. 

<3<3<3

songs: Kathleen, Homesick, Hourglass (Catfish and the Bottlemen)

an: ahhh they kinda cute or whatevah 

@mythicaitt​ @eyllweambassador​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @ladyverena​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @thesirenwashere​ @queenofxhearts​ @maastrash​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @cursebreaker29​ @empress-ofbloodshed​ @b00kworm​ @hizqueen4life​ @silversprings98​ @amren-courtofdreams​ @jadeaffliction​ @superspiritfestival​ @sanakapoor​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @spyofthenightcourt​ @thegoddessofyou​ @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx​ @claralady​ @neonhellas​ @darlinminds​ @readingismyonlyhobby​ @autophobiaxx​ @myshadowsingeraz​ @firestarsandseneschals​ @elriel4life​ @always-in-a-daydream​ @jlinez @ladywitchling​ @mariamuses​ @darklesmylove​ @adelzd-bookblr​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @sassyhobbits​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @januarystears​@flamingveritas

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (1/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing 

Word Count: 2.8k

Part Summary: Y/N is a newly famous actress from a popular TV show and she’s willing to do everything in her power to maintain her perfect image as “America’s Sweetheart.” 

Masterlist

The limelight is a hard place to be under. It’s draining to constantly be on display. Day in and day out I feel as though I’m always looking into a mirror. However, a mirror is replaced by people’s eyes. I see myself through other’s eyes. Being sat on a slippery plastic stool while being watched by millions of Americans before they head off to work is an excellent way to start my day. Perhaps if I keep telling myself that I’ll eventually believe it. Savannah glances down at her cards then continues with the interview.

“Let’s go back to a year ago, if someone approached you and said “you’ll be the most sought after girl in America,” would you had believed them?”

I shake my head “not all.”

If only she knew how absent I am in the current moment. I’ve answered similar questions a million times these past few months. All the exact same questions within the same routine.

“Now, being as famous as you are, how do you cope with your newfound fame?”

There it is, famous. A better-sounding word than popular. After all, adult life is nothing like high school… right?

“I don’t particularly like the word “famous.” When people say “you’re famous!” What they really mean is “a lot of people know you!” At least people think they do.”

She studies me, intrigued by my honest answer, perhaps too honest. “You’re saying America doesn’t know the “real” you? Including your fans?”

I shrug, I can only imagine Nicole’s face right now. My usual bubbly and charmingly excited personality didn’t wake up with me at three this morning.

“I believe they know whatever version of me they’ve created. For some, I’m that girl from the cover of that one magazine they saw in line at the grocery store. For others, I may just a name without a face. That’s the thing about being so-called “famous.” I’ll never have the chance to meet every single person who has ever read an article about me or has seen paparazzi videos. They’ll only see those tainted versions of me. They’ll never have the opportunity to know me personally and make a valid judgment for themselves.”

Savannah hums, her eyebrows scrunched up. “How do you feel about that?”

I sigh, the words settling within me. “It’s disappointing.”

If only they all knew the truth, the reality of it all.

______________________________________________________

After the interview for the show, I fly straight back to Los Angeles from New York. My schedule has been worse, but I never miss the chance to complain to my manager. Thankfully, Nicole is a mother of tween girls and a ten-year-old boy so she knows how to take my childish whining. Once we’re landed in LAX I countdown the minutes until I can return to my bed.

“I don’t understand why you insist on wearing heels on the plane,” Nicole nags me.

“Because you never know who you’re gonna meet! Best to dress nicely just in case!”

It’s been a rule of mine since I first discovered my style and began to wear makeup, never go out in public without looking and feeling confident. I’ve learned that people can sense when others don’t feel confident and take advantage of that.

“I doubt your Mom would like it,” she nags.

“Well she’s not in California is she?” I fire back but snicker slightly.

My momma’s absence was bitter-sweet, in the beginning, now it’s all sweet. When we have our luggage, Nicole leads me through the airport to where the car is picking us up.

“You may want to put on your sunglasses now. We’re about to cross the line,” she warns.

I grab my glasses out of my purse like she instructed and slide them on. She was right, as soon as we cross over that taped line it’s a free-for-all for the paparazzi.

“Y/N!” “Y/N!”

“HEY! SHOW US A SMILE!”

The yelling doesn’t bother me as it used to in the past. Now, it’s the clicking. The clicking from their cameras. A constant *click* *click* *click*, from each of the thirty cameras. Nicole attempts to create a path for me by walking ahead.

“HOW WAS YOUR TRIP TO NEW YORK?”

“Good, thank you” I reply politely with a smile toward the tile floor.

I try to manage a balance when it comes to paparazzi. They have their job and so do I. Following me, taking pictures or videotaping me is their job. As long as they respect me, I will respect them. Nicole says it’s good for my image. My image wasn’t the first reason I was nice toward them, I was being myself. Nowadays, I’m hardly myself. I have my name, Y/N Voss, but it no longer feels like my name. The paparazzi are not used to getting easy responses out of people because there’s a long pause before the next question.

“WHEN DOES FILMING START BACK UP FOR THE SHOW?”

The question comes from a different voice but that doesn’t keep me from answering.

“In two days!” I gleam, looking forward to returning to set.

“CAN YOU GIVE ANY INFO ABOUT THE NEW SEASON?”

I chuckle a little but think it over. I agreed in my contract not to give out spoilers but there is a little info I was told I can let out. Plus, I’ve only seen the script for the first episode so I don’t know too much.

“I can say that Hollyn will have a bump start this season but no worries,” I answer vaguely but with interest.

Nicole and I manage to reach outside and she guides me down the sidewalk to where the car is supposed to pick us up.

“RUMOR HAS IT YOU’RE DATING SOMEONE! CARE TO COMMENT?”

“I’m very much single,” I laugh, finding the topic humorous. “Not enough hours in the day to share them!”

There are always rumors that I’m dating someone though none of it’s true.

“YOU LOOK GREAT TODAY Y/N!”

“YOU ALWAYS DO!”

“Thanks, boys!” I give my appreciation. 

The driver gets out of the front and pops the trunk. Nicole informs me to get in the car and let her worry about our things along with the driver.

“WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR THE SUMMER?”

I open my door but pause to answer the last question. “Work, of course, but I also want to have some fun.”

“HAVE A GREAT SUMMER!”

“SEE YA LATER Y/N!”

They all hurry to get some last shots and I grant them a couple of seconds.

“You too! See you guys later!” I wave goodbye then climb into the car.

Nicole gets in a minute later and gives the driver the address. “You did great back there,” she compliments.

“Eh, it was nothing. I was only answering their questions.” I remove my glasses and get settled in as best as I can for the hour drive home.

She pulls out her binder full of scheduling material for me.

“Yes, but you were willing and kind. The public and media appreciate that! You’re becoming America’s Sweetheart!”

I would never admit it to Nicole but that title she keeps pushing makes me anxious every time I hear it. None of this was planned, it was thrown at me. Please don’t misunderstand me, I’m grateful for what I have but geez! When everyone is telling you a whole country adores you, how are you supposed to handle that? Especially at eighteen. It was no more than a year ago I was back in South Carolina and just another girl in high school. Now, I’m supposed to be “America’s Sweetheart.” I’ll play the part but it doesn’t make the job any less intimidating.

__________________________________________________________

My best friends/co-stars, Sam and Penelope, meet up with me for dinner to celebrate my first night back in town after the press tour. The three of us have been dividing our time around the country working on various projects between filming the show. Any time we can all get together is a gift.

Ever since I’ve known Sam Merka, girls flung themselves at him. Even I’ll say it, he’s a good-looking guy. If Grant Gustin had a younger brother, it would be Sam. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, we’re just friends. A sibling sort of bond. Since he’s eight years older than me, he likes a big brother.

Though Penelope is older too, one can’t tell since I tend to act more mature. I’m jealous of her sun-kissed long blonde hair and dark brown eyebrows. We all kinda got thrown into our friendship. Having to play life-long friends an hour after meeting for the first time was, to say the least interesting. Five years later, and we are like three peas in a pond. A mini family to have each other’s back in the big city.

For dinner, we agreed on The Nice Guy, an Italian place in West Hollywood. The most important aspect of the place is the amount of privacy it grants. The interior is a lounge, super lowkey, with booths, couches, and coffee tables but there are no photos allowed. Since no photos can be taken that means the three of us and others can enjoy ourselves in peace. Sam called dibs on being designated driver as per usual as the “bodyguard” for us girls. The paparazzi tend to hang out around the restaurant because it’s a well-known spot for celebrities.

“Maybe we can slip past them,” Sam says optimistically as we exit the car.

He meets me around the front and Penelope joins us after getting out of the backseat.

“HEY! HEY! HEY!”

From in front of the restaurant, a ripple of cameras begin to take notice of us.

“IT’S THE KIDS FROM THE SEASONS OF LIFE!”

“Yep, we really snuck past them!” I tease Sam playfully.

He huffs, annoyed with the situation. Sam loves his job but hates the lack of privacy aspect. He isn’t a fan of crowds either which I can understand. However, he’s great at masking it behind his charming smile. It’s what we were trained to do. Yet, Sam is better at managing a crowd mentally overall than I am. He understands how they affect me sometimes. The swarm of photographers rushes up to us. Sam leads the way toward the restaurant door. Penelope remains close, keeping a hand on my forearm to stay together. The cluster follows us down the sidewalk to the building.

“SAM! SAM! HEARD ABOUT THE GQ PHOTOSHOOT! CONGRATS ON GETTING THE COVER MAN!”

Sam chuckles next to me, “thanks, dude!”

“PENELOPE! RUMOR HAS IT YOU’LL BE SWITCHING OVER TO THE BIG SCREEN!”

“Exactly, it’s a rumor!” She replies a matter-of-factly.

The *click* *click* *click* and the flashing lights in the dead of night never fail to overwhelm me. Though, Nicole has told me I never appear overwhelmed when I interact with them. I force on the brave and confident face. I’m not me when I’m in front of cameras or important people, I’m Y/N Voss. I’m two very different people.

While I’m lost in thought, I get stuck when one photographer gets too close to my face with his camera and blinds me for a second. Sam and Penelope don’t notice my absence amongst the chaos until another photographer barks at the other to back off. Then, I feel Sam’s hand slip into mine and he protectively escorts me toward the door with determination.

“ANYTHING YOU TWO WANT TO SHARE ABOUT HOLLYN AND ELLIOT FOR NEXT SEASON?”

Hollyn and Elliot are Sam and my’s characters from The Seasons of Life, the show we star in together. Our characters have been on again off again for the past two seasons. According to the last season’s finale, the two are currently together, but of course, the season ended on a cliffhanger so their relationship isn’t very stable.

“Sorry guys, can’t share anything!” Sam answers, sounding a tad irritable.

“ANYTHING IN REAL LIFE? YOU TWO WERE BOTH IN NEW YORK THIS WEEKEND!”

“That’s true, but we never have the chance to meet up!” I reply nicely.

Press events for last season have come to an end and work officially begins in no time! Downtime for me is filming and it couldn’t come at a better time. I’ve missed being home in Los Angeles. Living out of a suitcase and sleeping each night on a plane isn’t the best way to live, at least for me. We finally reach the doors and I thank the heavens.

“Oh my gosh! There’s no way!” I hear what sounds like girls squealing and I slow down to see where it’s coming from. My hand slips from Sam’s as he goes on. When he’s determined to get away from the paparazzi, he can ignore the voices. Yet, when he notices that I do not follow he finally stops.

“Excuse me!” A girl calls amongst the clicking and shouting.

The paparazzi move aside a tad and create a path for me to see two young teens jumping up and down. They must be around fourteen I’m guessing, younger than me at least. I approach them to see what’s the matter. I can hardly see anything with all the bright lights.

“Hi! How are you?” I greet but once I get closer and cover my eyes with the flashing lights, I recognize them. “Sarah! Emma! How are you two?”

These two have been some of my biggest supports. They run a Youtube channel and create content about their reactions to episodes of the series. Somehow they manage to make appearances at any events relating to the show. I’ve met them numerous times at events, so have other members of the cast. Besides being two of the sweets girls in the world, they’ve created a fan page for me on Instagram and Twitter.

“Good, good!” Emma replies eagerly.

“It’s been so long since we last saw you!” Sarah adds.

“It really has! When was the last time we saw each other? During the press tour?”

They nod in unison as though they’ve rehearsed it.

“Well, group hug!” I hold out my arms and they gladly accept.

“Can we get a picture?” Emma practically begs, bouncing on her heels.

“Of course!” I take Emma’s phone and hold it out to the crowd of paparazzi. “Could one of you take our picture by chance?”

Many of the guys offer and I select a random one in front of me.

“Squeeze in tight!” I tell the girls as I stand between them and we wrap our arms around each other.

“One, two, three!” The man takes a couple of shots and hands, Emma, back her phone.

“Thank you!” The three of us say together.

We all hover over her phone to check out the pictures.

“So cute!” I awe at the photos.

“Y/N...” Sam places his hand on my back to usher me along.

“Oh, my-” Emma covers her mouth.

“Sam!” Sarah’s jaw is to the sidewalk.

“Hey girls!” he charmingly smiles.

He’s had the chance to meet them a few times while on the press tour and at other various events. I was there to introduce them which was one of the most entertaining moments of my life. I thought the girls were going to faint!

“Can we ask a quick question? It’s for our channel!” Sarah nervously bites her lower lip.

“Yeah, yeah, anything for you guys!” I answer without hesitation.

Sam wraps his arm around my waist while we’re talking to the girls and I don’t think much of it but the cameras begin to go nuts. The men behind them don’t say a word since we’re occupied but there they go *click* *click* click*.

“Is there any hope of you two getting together IRL?” Emma questions intently without hesitation.

I press my lips together with amusement and turn my head to Sam. He has the same look of pondering the question. He squints his eyes at me and then the two of us turn to the girls.

“Just friends,” we answer in unison.

“Best friends!” Sam adds playfully.

“Best friends forever ever!” I one-up him.

The two girls laugh with us, but it’s clear they’re a little disappointed.

“Well, I still bet on you two,” Sarah confidently points out.

Sam and I get a kick out of it. Our viewers want us together too.

“We better get going, our moms are waiting,” Emma informs us.

“Okay, quick hug!” I order and the four of us group hug.

We say our goodbyes and when the girls disappear the men behind the cameras start yelling.

“YOU’RE GREAT Y/N!”

“HOW DID YOU KNOW THEM?”

“Their names are Emma and Sarah. They run a popular Youtube channel, Twitter, and Instagram accounts for the show. Super sweet girls those two!”

“DO YOU KNOW ALL YOUR FANS?”

“I try to! I know a good amount!” I grin proudly.

Sam guides me into the restaurant and his hand never leaves my back. All of it is platonic of course, nothing more. As I told the paparazzi before, there isn’t enough time in my life for me to share any with someone.

 ________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @canyoubuymetoast

[capsteddybear]

Our Playlist - Wanna Be That Song - Brett Eldredge

Song lyrics:

"When you're searching the horizon, When your eyes look back, When you're standing in the moment, Every life has a soundtrack"

----- ------

You wake up to the sound of people getting their suitcases from the overhead cabinets. You stretch out in your seat and open up your window cover and quickly close it from the bright sunlight beaming in. You feel a tap on your shoulder and you look up and it's your fellow colleague Sarah, "hey wake up, sleepy head. We landed."

"Hey, Sarah. Yeah, I'm up, I'm up." You stretch out again and gather up your things and get your carry on bag from the overhead cabinet. As you board off of the plane you see your other coworkers and students waiting at the gate. Once you're all together you guys head to the baggage claim and gather your other bags and guitars.

You guys then hop in a shuttle and head to the hotel where you guys will be staying for the trip. Once you guys arrive at the hotel you help check in all of your students. The lobby is packed with other students from different universities, but luckily enough the check in process doesn't take too long. You head to your room to check it out. As soon as you walk in you carefully prop your guitar case against the wall and toss your bags on the floor and flop onto the bed face first hugging a pillow. You lay there for a moment letting your body relax. You slowly turn over and stare at the ceiling as you listen to the city atmosphere coming from the street below. You sit up and walk over to the window and pull open the window curtain and look down at the street. Your room is on the 15th floor of the hotel so the crowds of people below look like a bunch of ants. You scan the surrounding buildings taking in the scenery.

You hear a knock at the door and it's your colleague Betty, "hey (y/n), we're gonna head out on the town and get an early dinner. Wanna join us?"

"Yeah sure."

"Okay we'll meet up in the lobby in about an hour?"

"Yeah sounds good."

You close the door and decide to unpack some of your stuff. You pull out your phone and call Chris back home. At first he doesn't answer and you look at your clock and figure out that it's around 3 o'clock in the morning back at home. You decided to leave a message instead, "Hey Chris, I know you're sleeping right now, but just wanted to let you know I made it to Japan. I miss you and Dodger. Love you. Bye."

About a minute later your phone is buzzing and you see Chris' face on your screen.

"Hi"

"Hello, beautiful. I got your voicemail."

You can tell he was asleep from the tone of his voice, "Just wanted to let you know I landed."

"I tried to stay awake, but I fell asleep on the couch. I felt the phone vibrating, but it got lost in the covers and by the time I found it, it stopped ringing."

"You didn't have to stay awake."

"I know, but I wanted to…. Or at least try. What time is it there?"

"It's almost 4:30 in the afternoon."

You hear Chris yawn over the phone, "What are you guys gonna do the first day?"

"Just settle in. We're about to go get dinner." You hear Chris yawn again, "I should let you go back to sleep."

"Mmm, call me when you get back to the hotel? I should be better after I get a couple of more hours of sleep."

"It's okay we can talk another time."

"Nooooo, I miss the sound of your voice…. And I miss your face."

You smile, "It's only been a day."

"After a minute passes I miss you."

You giggle, "aww, that's sweet. I think you need to get some sleep."

"Yeah, but please call me later. Promise I'll answer."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you, (y/n). Good night."

"Good night, babe."

You hang up the phone and freshen up a bit before heading down stairs to the lobby to meet up with the others. You guys head out on the town and do a bit of sightseeing before finding a spot to eat. Everyone is tired from the flight so there's not as much talking at dinner, but you know everyone is enjoying their time together.

After dinner you all head back to the hotel. Once you're back in your room you take a quick shower before calling Chris.

It rings a couple of times before he answers, "hello?"

"Hi, did you sleep enough?"

"Yeah…. I wanna see you, can we video chat or is it bedtime for you?"

"Yeah we can for a bit. Let me set up my laptop and I'll call you back, okay?"

"Okay, bye. Love you (y/n)."

"Love you. Bye."

You grab your laptop out of your backpack and hop into bed. You connect to the wifi and call Chris back. It rings twice before you see his handsome face on the screen.

"Hey handsome."

"There's my girl."

You can tell from the background that Chris is in the kitchen, "What are you up to?"

"Cooking breakfast… your favorite… pancakes." He lifts the pan from the stove and shows you.

"Yummy."

"What's some? I think I made a bit too many."

You rub your stomach, "No thank you. I ate enough at dinner."

"How was it? How's the view from the hotel?"

"It was delicious. There was a lot of different food, I couldn't remember the names of everything, but it was really good. Wanna see the view?"

"Yeah!" Chris puts the pan down and concentrates on the screen as you get out of bed to walk to the window. "Oh wait, you were in bed? Sorry, you didn't have to get up."

"No, it's fine. I didn't find my comfy spot yet."

You hear Chris giggle as you open up the curtains to reveal the view. You hold up the laptop closer so he gets a better view and you point out stuff to Chris.

"How far is the university from there?"

"I think the schedule said about a 10 minute drive."

"Ah not too bad, what time do you guys have to be there tomorrow?"

You walk back to bed and snuggle back in the covers with your back leaning against the pillows with the laptop on your lap. "Call time is at 9 so I'll probably wake up at like 7:30-8 and make sure everyone else is up and has eaten breakfast…. And you, what do you have planned after breakfast?"

"Take Dodger for a walk and visit my mom later."

"Tell her I said hi."

"I will."

"How's Dodger?"

"He's doing good. He slept on the couch with me after you called earlier."

"Why didn't you sleep in bed?"

"I fell asleep watching tv waiting for your call, and I was too lazy to walk to the room after you called."

You let out a giggle, "sorry, I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"It's fine, I'll always wait for you." Chris winks at the screen that causes a big smile to appear on your face.

"I love you."

"I love you too, (y/n). You should get some sleep. You got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

"I should. I'm really tired from the flight. How do you get used to the time difference?"

Chris laughs, "it'll take another day or so, but you will don't worry."

"Ugh, okay. Gonna sleep now, I'll text or call you when I can okay?"

"Okay. I love you, (y/n). Good night."

"Have a good day, Chris. I love you. Bye."

You close the laptop and place it on the nightstand. You set your alarm clock and soon drift off to sleep.

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

The next morning you're up 20 minutes before your alarm goes off. Your head is pounding so you take some medicine before having breakfast and meeting your students in the lobby. Once at the university you guys head to the music department and auditorium where you guys will be rehearsing. You think the auditorium at your university is big, but this one seems three times as big. First you guys sit in the seating area as the director of the university introduces himself and welcomes you to campus. After the introduction he shows you the practice and dressing rooms. You guys leave your stuff in the rooms before taking a tour of the music department. Once the tour is over you have your students warm up on stage before rehearsing as a group. Your headache is almost gone which makes you happy, but you brought your medicine with you just in case.

During rehearsal you would walk off stage and down the aisle of the seats. Having to perform in a bigger space than you're used to means you have to play a bit louder to fill up the space. Even though there would be mics set up on stage you made notes in your head on certain parts of the piece where you'll need to change the dynamics. You walk back up stage and end the piece. You flip back through your score and add the dynamic changes and tell your students to do the same. You go through your other pieces and add notes as you go along. Your colleagues are also sitting in the audience so you ask for any suggestions that they have and make note of them too.

After you rehearse all of your group pieces you take a 20 minute break before it's time for the solo acts and duets to rehearse their pieces. During your break you send a message to Chris telling him how rehearsal is going and attach a photo of the auditorium with the caption saying "it's 3 times as big as the one back home." When break is almost over you notice that the other ensembles from the other school start to enter the auditorium to watch you rehearse before it's their turn to practice on stage. You start to get nervous. First, it's the bigger concert hall and now it's having unfamiliar people in the audience during practice, not even during the concert yet. You start to fidget in your seat and you feel your phone vibrate in your hand. You look down and it's a message from Chris:

"Hi sweetheart, that's a beautiful spot you get to perform at. I'm so proud of you. You worked really hard to get there. Don't get nervous, okay? You're gonna do great. I love you. 💙 "

You smile and your eyes get teary, but you quickly wipe them away so your students don't notice. However your friend Sarah is sitting in the same row as you and notices you wiping your face and comes to sit next to you.

"Hey, (y/n). You okay?"

"Yeah, just nerves. I'll be fine."

"I'm here if you wanna talk, okay?"

"Thanks, Sarah."

Rehearsal continues and the solo acts and duets from the students sound great. They even get applauses from the other university that's watching. Once all of the students are done rehearsing it's now your colleagues and your turn to take the stage. A few of them perform before you. Once it's your turn you read your message from Chris one more time before placing your phone is your guitar guitar. You take deep breaths as you make your way up to the stage. You perform 2 pieces "Recuerdos de la Alhambra" by Francisco Tarrega and "Asturias" by Isaac Albeniz.

After you finish your time on stage you put your guitar back in your case and take your seat in the audience and watch your other colleagues perform. Once everyone from your university has a chance to perform on stage the next university sets up their ensemble to rehearse. You, your students and colleagues stay in the audience to watch them as well. After 2 hours of rehearsal you guys go to the practice rooms and work on whatever else needs adjusting. You check in on your students if they need any other help with stuff and you give them your notes that you took while watching them rehearse.

The next few days of the trip consists of rehearsals on stage and in the practice rooms. Not only for your students, but also for yourself. When you're practicing in one of the rooms you get text messages from Chris. Mostly of him saying he misses you and that he loves you. But your favorite ones are random photos of him and Dodger throughout the day.

"Dodger misses you." Attached is a photo of Dodger chewing on one of your shoes. "Don't worry, I'll buy you a new pair by the time you come back home."

"Tell Dodger I miss him too. Gotta get back to practice now. I'll call you later."

When you're back in your hotel room you video chat Chris. As you're eating dinner he's eating breakfast so it seems like you're eating together.

"What's for dinner tonight?"

"I just ordered some fruit and a salad. Not really hungry tonight."

"You okay?" As Chris tilt his head in a concerning manner.

"Yeah, I had a big lunch earlier. I'm fine." You smile to reassure him.

"Okay, remember I'm here if you wanna talk."

You let out a deep breath, "I know, thank you. We've been rehearsing a lot and I'm just tired."

"If I was there I would give you a massage."

"Please? I miss your massages …. And your cooking."

Chris laughs, "just another week and I'll give you as many massages and pancakes that you want."

You sigh, "gosh, another week? Don't remind me." You rub the back of your neck from the tiredness.

"Aww come on, besides all of the rehearsing I'm sure you're having an awesome time, right?"

"I am, I just miss you."

"I miss you too, (y/n). I love you."

"I love you, Chris."

"You should get some rest."

"Yeah, you're right…. I'll call you when I can."

"Alright, sweet dreams, sweetheart. I love you."

"Good night, Chris. I love you."

---- -----

The second week of the trip consists of master classes with the instructors from the different universities and the guest judges. When you perform with your students you get a handful of great comments and a few pointers to work on before the final performance at the end of the week. Between rehearsals you always find time to call home and check in with Chris.

"Hi Chris."

"Hey beautiful, how's it going today?"

"It's going great. We finished our master classes this week and we have one more full dress rehearsal tomorrow before the concert."

"Woo, sounds like you've been busy… Gosh, I really wished I could be there to support you in this."

"Aww, I wish you were here too… Promise I'll play my solo pieces for you when I get home."

"Please do. I love listening to you play."

"Okay, I gotta go back to work now. I love you, Chris. Bye."

"Love you too, (y/n). Bye sweetheart."

---- ------

The last dress rehearsal is a success. All of the ensembles from the universities sound amazing. With it being the last night before the concert you go out for dinner one last time with your students and colleagues.

One of your colleagues makes a speech before your food arrives at the table.

"I would like to start off this toast by thanking (y/n) for getting us here. If it weren't for your dedication to your students and your hard work ethics we probably wouldn't have been here."

You turn a light shade of red because now the whole table is looking at you. You take your glass in your hand and raise it up as you stand up from your seat, "I'll take partial credit for getting here. If it weren't for my hard working students we wouldn't be here. These past 2 weeks have really shown me the dedication and time you guys have put into your craft. I really appreciate that, it makes my job easy and fun." The table laughs as you finish up the toast. You enjoy the food and company before heading back to the hotel to sleep.

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

The day of the concert you get to sleep in longer than usual. You feel refreshed and well rested. You have breakfast and lunch with your colleagues and head back up to your room to relax and call Chris.

"Hey."

"Hi, sweetheart, tonight's the concert right?"

"Yeah, in about 2 hours. Wanted to call you before it starts."

"You excited?"

"Uh, yeah, but more nervous than excited."

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart. You're gonna do great. You've worked so hard and so have your students. You guys are gonna rock. I know it."

"Thanks, Chris. I love you. I'll call you later."

"I love you (y/n)."

You take a shower before heading to the university.

Once you're in the dressing room you unpack your concert attire and dress in your conductor outfit for the ensemble pieces first. You stand backstage to the side as you watch the other universities perform first. After they're done it's now your ensemble's turn to take the stage. As you walk across the stage to the conductor podium you hear the applause and your heart starts to race. You take a few deep breaths before you cue your students. You lose yourself in the musical pieces. All of your focus is on the music and your students. And soon enough you're done. You freeze in the cut off position for a moment before you relax your arms and let out a breath of relief as you step down from the podium and the audience applauses your performance. You bow to the crowd and walk off stage as the curtains close to set up for the next ensemble. You miss the next couple of performances as your change into your solo concert attire. As you take one final look in the mirror in the dressing room you notice a single white rose and an envelope with your name on it. Your eyes get watery because you have a feeling you know who it's from. You quickly rip the envelope open and read the note inside:

"Hi sweetheart, I hope you get this in time before you get on stage tonight. Your friend Sarah contacted me and said you were a bit nervous this whole week about performing. I know I probably sound like a broken record when I say this, but don't be nervous. You're gonna sound amazing on stage. I'm so proud of you. I love you. Can't wait to see you when you get back home. - Chris. "

You smile and wipe the tear falling down your cheek as you freshen up before heading back to the stage. You listen to the other solo performances before it's your turn to perform. As you walk on stage again to the concert bench you take deep breaths to steady your heart beat. You take a seat on the bench and get into the playing position and start your performance. After you play the last note of your piece you freeze for a moment and then relax and take a bow as the giant auditorium fills with cheering sounds. A smile of relief appears on your face as you take another bow and walk off stage. You place your guitar back in its case in your dressing room before heading back to watch the rest of the performances.

Once the concert is over you change into more comfy clothes and head back to your hotel room and turn in for the night.

----- -----

You wake up early the next morning for your flight back home. You pack up all of your stuff and meet everyone in the lobby to take the shuttle to the airport.

Before take off you send Chris a text:

"Heading home now. Can't wait to see you. I love you."

While on the plane you stay up and watch multiple movies and read some chapters from a book that Chris recommended for you.

Soon enough you're back home in Boston. As you make your way to the end of the gate you spot Chris in his Boston cap and red flannel. With it being early in the morning you see a sleepy smile appear on his face as soon as he sees. You run up to him and jump into his arms burying your face into his neck as he hugs you tight.

"Chris!!!"

"Hi sweetheart."

He gives you a welcome home kiss before you hug him again and pepper his face in kisses. "Gosh, I missed you so much."

He giggles between kisses, "I can tell. I missed you too." You stand there for a minute in each other's arms, happy to be back together. "Let's go get your luggage and head home." He laces his fingers with yours and you lead the way to baggage claim. When your stuff appears on the belt Chris carries your guitar case in one hand while still holding onto yours.

On the drive back home you lean your head on his shoulder as he drives. He kisses the top of your head and you smile watching the sunrise.

Once you make it back home you're greeted with puppy kisses from Dodger.

"Hi handsome!"

He melts to the floor as you rub his belly. Chris laughs and walks passed you and heads to the kitchen, "you hungry?"

"Depends…. You gonna cook pancakes?" You walk into the kitchen and see Chris with a plate of pancakes already made. You cover your face and bust out laughing.

"You said you wanted pancakes when you got home… I never break my promises." He places the plate on the counter and walks up to you and hugs you.

"Do you remember the other part of your promise?"

A grin appears on Chris' face and he leans in for a kiss, "if you're talking about the massage, then yes I remember."

You kiss him back, "then I'll take the massage first." You wink as you lead the way to the bedroom.

Chris laughs and spins you around into his arms and kisses you passionately before picking you up and carefully placing you on the bed with him laying on top of you.

"Welcome home, sweetheart."

You run your fingers through his hair, "I'm glad to be back."

He peppers you in light kisses before you guys roll around in bed, lost in each other's eyes. Soon enough he does end up giving you that massage he promised. You missed the touch of his warm, strong hands on your body. You moaned as your body relaxed more and more. Soon after you fall asleep. A few hours pass and you wake up from your nap. You roll over in bed and see Chris with his phone and headphones plugged in. You tap his arm to get his attention.

"What are you watching?"

He turns his phone so you can see, "you."

"What?" You rub your eyes to take a better look.

"Your friend Sarah emailed me clips of your performances…. You sound amazing, sweetheart…. You always do…. And you look really beautiful."

You set up in bed and kiss Chris, "I love you so much, babe."

"I love you too, (y/n).... Wanna eat your pancakes now?"

"Yes please!" You hope out of bed and run to the kitchen. You can hear Chris laughing from down the hallway. "Oh nooo!"

Chris jumps out of bed and runs to meet you in the kitchen, "babe, what happened??" You both catch Dodger in the act eating your pancakes and bust out laughing. "It's okay, I'll make a fresh batch for you." He gives you a kiss on the forehead as he walks over to the stove.

"Thank you, Chris." You take a seat on the stool at the kitchen island and tell Chris all about your trip as he cooks pancakes for you.

[sp00kworm]

SIREN (A Monster Metal Band)

Chapter 1 - Meeting the Band

Pairings: Various Monsters x Reader

---

---

“And today we have some very, very special guests with us in the studio!” The radio-announcer cooed over the microphone, into the silence of your tense apartment. You turned up the volume, clutching the pillow in your lap and your phone in the other. “With us today we have the up and coming band SIREN!” He roared as the microphones turned on for the men and they laughed over the stereo. You clutched your pillow tighter as the interview started for real.

“Here in the studio with us today we have the entirety of the band line-up. Vocalist, Zadok. Lead guitarist, Duncan. Rhythm guitarist, Senoz. Bassist, Blagden. And our favourite drummer, Khadba!” They thanked the announcer with a chorus of gentle laughter, and you readied the dial up number, knowing exactly where the interview was going.

“So, we all know that you guys are performing in our city in a few days’ time. I’m sure every fan listening is excited for the show! You have some real reputation, guys, truly.” The announcer laughed with them before he started with the questions, “So, Zadok, rumour is that you’ve been recording some new vocals with famous artist Lady Conch?”

 Zadok’s gentle laughter hummed through your speakers, “It’s an ongoing project, but she’s a lovely woman. We’ve worked together before and I’ve appeared in her solo work before. It’s hard to find male Mers for her music so we’re basically friends at this point.”

“Interesting!” The announcer hummed, “I never thought that would be an issue for merfolk in music, but you learn something new every day!” He continued, “Duncan! How about that new guitar deal you and Senoz have with Irontars?”

Duncan huffed over the microphone before Senoz laughed and started the explanation, “We have a new deal with specific models around our specific tastes. Duncan has a very uhh…” Senoz clicked and cackled, his voice echoing strangely, “Dark taste. It looks like a very big axe. I went for a slicker look but it’s a lot of flames.” He cackled.

“We’re a metal band, Senoz. I can go as dark as I like.” Duncan said gruffly before adding, “I like my guitars like I like my partners.” He purred, “Sharp and a bit insane.”

 The announcer laughed it off before continuing on through the last question, “Here I have an interesting question from a fan for Blagden! They asked just how it is on tour while catering to such a very specific diet?”

Blagden hissed before answering, “Bicorn diets aren’t that hard to get. Mostly meat. But I can eat everything other people can. Zadok and I go fishing when we’re at the coastal cities. Fresh is better but no.” He leaned into the microphone, “I don’t have to eat people’s husbands.” He huffed and you heard the sound of hooves clacking against the floor as he settled back into his seat.

“A good revelation, thank you for answering.” The announcer added as he reached his final question, “Khadba, our favourite new addition. Before this, the band ran on hired drummers for each tour, so, how does it feel being a permanent member with this new album?”

Khadba coughed awkwardly, “It’s been a ride, but I’d say that the music is much, uh…” He stuttered for a moment, “The music is much more personal with me I’d say. I’ve had a long time to get to grips with the music in recording and even before this I was a fan of the guy’s work.”

Blagden growled, “He’s a fucking liar. He practically told us our tempo was garbage. Zadok hired him on the spot after one sound test!”

Duncan roared with great laughter, “It was a time. I’ve never had someone tear my work to pieces so well!”

 The announcer laughed with them before he went back to the audience, “Now, let’s play a song from the new album! This one is called Deep Dark featuring some very special vocals from your deep-sea merman, Zadok.”

“You’re too kind.” Zadok hummed before the voices cut out and the song blended into being, beginning with that could only be described as merfolk speak. You relaxed gently against the cushions as the gentle bubbling voice rang out. You looked at your coffee table and snatched up the latest issue of Metal Talks, admiring the front. There was a glossy latest picture of the band on the magazine. Zadok’s white eyes were close to the camera lens, his white skin glowing with purple bioluminescence as he opened his mouth full of sharp long teeth for the camera. Duncan was perched in the back with his axe guitar gripped in one hand, his body covered in black fur. Duncan was the largest member, a giant black, curly haired Minotaur with curly tresses that hung between his two great ivory coloured horns, covering his great green eyes. Senoz was a grey skinned demon, his four, blue eyes glinting with mischief as he too posed with his guitar, decked in skin-tight leather and heavy metal cuffs, his three tails poised up behind him. Blagden, the Bicorn was truly petrifying with his black thoroughbred, sleek fur rippled and his great mouth open to expose his predator teeth. You traced a finger over his dual black, unicorn horns and the curling pair of ram horns behind his ears, admiring his great shaggy mane. Khadba was placed in the back, his arms crossed and drumsticks in one hand. His moss coloured skin and grey steel eyes were intimidating, his face and ears littered with piercings to match the gruff look on his face. You admired the tattoos over his arms depicting burning skulls and giant demons before the song drew to a close.

 “After that zinger we’re back in the studio with SIREN!” The announcer called and you readied yourself as the bit you had been waiting for finally arrived, “And now, we get to the part you’ve all been waiting for, the giveaway.” He hummed, “Today, from the charitable guys here, we will be giving away an exclusive early entry ticket and backstage pass for the gig!” The guys hooted in the studio before going quiet as the man shuffled his papers, “The question is…” You felt your heartbeat in your chest as you listened with bated breath, “How long is Duncan’s guitar solo in the song ‘Burn’?” He quickly read out the number for the call lines.

“You know, I don’t even remember how long that solo is.” Duncan huffed before grumbling.

Senoz cackled, “I know!” He jeered before Duncan snorted hotly at him.

“The lines are open! Get those guesses in!”

You tapped the call button and prayed to all that was good in the world that you would get through with your guess. It was the longest solo in the band’s discography. You knew you had a chance.

 The phone was quickly busy in the studio and you listened to the hold music with your bottom lip between your teeth, worrying at the skin as person after person guessed, and was met with the loud siren. Incorrect. Fifteen people in a row guessed it incorrectly. You were in with a chance.

“And now we have another guess on the line! Tell us your name sweetheart!” The announcer said. Suddenly, you realised that he was speaking in your ear as well.

“Uhm… Oh gosh…” You stuttered your name and listened to announcer.

“Now, let’s have your guess. How long is Duncan’s guitar solo in the song ‘Burn’?” He tapped the countdown effect.

“Good luck, darling.” Zadok’s lilting voice tickled your ear.

You took a deep breath before replying, “The solo is one minute and forty-seconds long.”

Silence. You felt your heartbeat in your stomach.

“CORRECT!”

“Fuck me. I didn’t even come close and it’s my solo. Well done.” Duncan hummed down the microphone as the rest of the band laughed and chuckled behind him.

“You’ve won the backstage pass and early entry ticket!” The announcer cheered before you were quickly snapped onto the line for your address and name for the premium postage and for the band’s team to know who you were. Your mouth hung open before you quickly coughed and started to try and rattle off your address to the woman, brain frazzled and still in disbelief.

 “What?!” Tom shouted from behind the bar, “You won?!” He howled in disbelief, before he slammed his fists against the countertop, “I’ll give you the money for the other ticket!” He begged, “I wanna go and you have a spare ticket now!” The brown-haired werewolf grinned with pointed teeth before clutching his hands together, “Please!” He begged again, “I’ll get on my knees for it!”

“Tom, please just chill out!” You begged with a laugh as you tucked your bag away under the bar, “You give me the money and I’ll give you my standard ticket, stop freaking out!” You promised as you struggled to tie your apron behind your back.

“Here. Let me give you a hand.” Tom tugged the ties tightly and deftly tied a knot around your waist before he let you turn back around and stroked at his beard with a clawed hand. It was a sign he was close to the full-moon and his shift, “How about we meet for a drink then before?” He asked, deep brown eyes glinting.

“No can do! The backstage stuff starts super early and I don’t want to be drunk and meet them all. The last thing I want to do is embarrass myself.” You lamented, “Do you remember when we saw Clutch after their show?”

 Tom barked a great, gruff laugh at the memory of the gig you had gone to when you were both younger, “Of course I do! How could I ever forget?” He teased, “You went flying over Rakesh’s tail!” He chuckled and wiped a glass down, “Your face met the concrete, after you cracked his ass on the way down.”

“Oh great, I’m glad you got a laugh out of it!” You bumped your hip against him with a scowl before tugging at the tail poking through the back of his jeans, “I wasn’t laughing! He nearly tore me apart!” You huffed, “Such a highly strung dude…” s

“You’re telling me!” Tom huffed, “I nearly had to shift and throw him off!” He tapped the top of his arm, “He got in that bite, which hurt like a motherfucker for three weeks, by the way.” He stuck his long tongue out at you and scratched at his brown curly hair, his hairy arms exposed out of the rolled sleeves of his shirt.

“Boo hoo.” You joked, “You’re big enough to punch a Naga, so I’m sure you can take the consequences of it.” With a smile you took out a new bottle of whiskey for the premium top shelf brands, “But again, thank you, I might have ended up in a mess without you there…well and security.” You hummed as you sorted the shelves, stood on top of the stool.

“Be careful.” Tom grumbled as he went past you, “We don’t want you spanking a customer on the way down.” He joked.

“Fuck off, Tom.” You snarked back at him.

 The ticket arrived the next day, and you rushed from your sofa when the delivery man knocked on the door, keen to sign for them and stash them away for the show. The postman jumped as you slammed the door open and turned his pad towards you with the parcel in one hand. After signing he handed you the thick, padded envelope and then nodded, quick to leave you to your ticket and pass. You grinned and stashed them in your lockable drawer before gushing to Tom over the phone. The night of the show came slowly. You had to work up until the day, and every shift had felt like it had taken an eon. Everything was slow and long, but finally the day arrived. Your instructions were to arrive about two hours before the main opening time, where the venue staff would greet you and take you through to the backstage. You were allowed to see the backstage operations before meeting the band you were far too obsessed with. At least, you reasoned, you weren’t like the fans stealing hair. You’d seen a lot of horror stories online. You admired the band members and you wished you could explain it without sounding very small and sad.

 The concert hall was giant. It was an arena which accepted shows of all kinds. You looked up as you walked inside the doors to the ticket booth. There was security everywhere. A pair of Orc security guards watched you curiously as you smiled at the venue staff and showed them the personalised pass. It was pictures with a picture of the band on hard plastic, like a credit card.

The woman behind the desk grinned, “Boys! You’ve got someone to show around!” She wiggled her finger at the two security guards and watched them huff before she collected her clipboard and handed you a printed tote, “That’s for your merchandise choice. Now, if you’d like to come this way these two handsome Orcs will show you to the backstage.” She cooed.

“Hey. I’m Frank. This is Droz.” The elder Orc shook your hand, his greying hair tied back in a long traditional braid. He was the typical soft green colour but Droz was a charcoal grey, his eyes red and his tusks large and more prominent. Droz was studded and pierced in most places, his hair cut short and styled into a wicked hawk down the middle of his head. He nodded at you but didn’t say anything.

“Ignore him. He’s quiet.” Frank cackled before shoving his elbow into Droz’s gut and opening the door for you towards the main stage area, “Comes with being part Gargoyle.” He snarked at Droz. The other male tailed behind the two of you but opened the rail for you to go behind the barrier.

“This is the way you’ll come out to watch the show later as well.” Frank added as he showed you through the curtains.

 Your heart slammed against your ribs as you clutched at your pass over your chest, holding it tightly, like a life line, as Frank showed you past the curtain and into the mess of road crew and wiring.

A heavy hand laid itself on your shoulder, “They’re good guys.” Droz rumbled behind you, “Don’t be nervous.”

You huffed awkwardly, “That’s easy to say but hard to put into practice.”

Droz shrugged, “I know but it’s good to hear it.”

“That’s the longest sentence I’ve ever heard you say, Droz.” Frank joked as he navigated through the roadcrew and made it into the back area of the venue. There was a very long corridor in the back with the dining area, small kitchen and shower room with areas for both the crew and band to chill out. You looked at the dingy hallway and felt your anxiety skyrocket.

“No need for the fright. They’re all in the lounge area waiting for you, all dolled up and pretty.” Frank chuckled before opening the door halfway down the left side of the corridor. He opened the door, and you hid behind Droz before daring to peer inside.

 The entire band went quiet as Frank slammed the door against the wall. Duncan’s forest green eye peered through the curls of his hair between his horns and he grinned with flat teeth as Zadok and Senoz span around quickly.

“Can you put your tails away you freak?” Zadok smacked at Senoz’s ass as the demon grinned, crazed, his four eyes blinking in pairs as he slinked closer to catch a glimpse of you. Droz rolled his eyes and shoved you into the room before offering a shrug and closing the door, leaving you with Frank and the band.

“This is our cute little winner I take it?” Senoz purred as he took your hand and bowed, pressing it to the hot skin of his forehead as Zadok battled against the tails twisting and smacking to greet you.

“Yep. This is the lucky one.” Frank confirmed, “Play nice, hm? You need to get the photoshoot and autographs out of the way and give away the merch.” He clicked a pen and snapped it against his itinerary before waving himself out of the door.

 “We always play nice.” Zadok’s low timbre vibrated as his gills flipped and shut tight against his neck. The singer was dressed in sheer fabric, the netting showing his torso off, and tight leather trousers. He offered you his white scaled hand, “A pleasure to meet you. I’m going to assume we don’t have to introduce ourselves, but for the sake of politeness, I am Zadok.” He shook your hand and smiled, white eyes and teeth exposed as his skin rippled with a deep blue light, “As for the rest of these hooligans then. Senoz is the drooling idiot next to you.”

“Rude as fuck.” Senoz snapped at the smaller male, blue eyes burning before he went back to sit next to Duncan, squeezed in on the sofa next to the Minotaur. The rhythm guitarist was dressed in a leather waist coat and tight trousers, his tails punched through a great hole in the back.

“Duncan, the man behind the longest guitar solo in our history.” He joked as Duncan flipped his hair back between his horns and waved once, uncrossing his hooves off the table and placing them on the floor. He was dressed only in a pair of leather trousers with a thick, pair of suspenders over his shoulders, showing off the piercings in his nipples.

“A pleasure.” Duncan nodded and flicked his tail at Senoz and his wiggling.

“Over in the armchair is Khadba. He’s warming up his arms so forgive him if he doesn’t wave.”

Khadba nodded his head at you but didn’t say anything as he drummed his sticks on a warm up pad, heavy arm muscles straining against the simple band shirt and his cargo shorts hiding very little of his legs, decorated with chains and bones.

“And last but not least, Blagden.” The Bicorn snorted at you but waved one hand before he kicked at Khadba’s stand and hissed at the Orc’s anger. His mass of flowing silks swayed with him as he reached to prune at his hair.

“Fuck off, Blag. I’ll put you through the chair.” Khadba growled as he tossed his great black braid down his back, the rings in his hair clicking. The Bicorn tugged at his tusks and the Orc was quick to kick Blagden’s backwards knee, grinning at the pain he had caused.

 “Its lovely to meet you all.” You croaked before uttering your name and trying your best to smile without freaking out.

“You have a cute name.” Senoz purred as Duncan’s eye peered through his curtain of hair.

Duncan huffed at him, “Can you please stop laying it on so thick. No one wants to sleep with you.”

“That wasn’t my intention.” Senoz grinned at you, “But if you’re down, sweet thing, I can show you what all my mouths can do.” He purred before Zadok clawed at his scalp and threw the Demon’s head back towards Duncan.

“Keep yourself in line.” Zadok warned, “This is a fan. The media is watching.” His bioluminescence burned into an angrier looking pink before he smiled at you with long, thin sharp pointed teeth.

“He’s right, as always.” Blagden’s black eyes fixed on you before he held up a purse mirror to groom his hair around his horns, “How about we have a drink and a chat, hm?” The Bicorn reached for a beer on the table and threw his long face back to drink the great bottle, pouring it past his sharp teeth.

“What do you drink?” Khadba asked quietly as he stood up, placing his sticks on top of his padded stool.

You took a deep breath as Duncan made space for you to sit, “Something strong, please.” You begged quietly.

 Zadok gave a great, hissing laugh at you and he took hold of his own drink, “Just a bit nervous, huh?” He asked gently as he sat in one of the armchairs.

You let out a sigh, “I’m shitting myself.” You confessed, “You guys are my favourite band and I just… Everything I want to say sounds super lame and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Duncan eyed you, “You’re not goin’ to fuck it up, sweetheart.” He snorted, the ring in his nose bouncing as he spread his furry arms over the back of the seat, “We’re not exactly prim or proper.” He rolled his green eyes and scratched at the base of one of his horns.

“Especially not Duncan. He comes from a farm.” Senoz cackled, the noise echoing mysteriously in his body.

“I’ll puncture your other arse cheek.” Duncan thumped at the demon, “Farm work is the reason I don’t look like a twiggy mother fucker.”

“Boys. We have a guest.” Zadok scolded them both with a hiss, the bony fins on his head flaring.

“Here.” Khadba placed a Vodka and mixer in front of you, “To take the edge off.” He smiled before returning to his seat with a large Orcish mead.

“Thank you.” You smiled and took a drink before realizing just how strong it was, “Maybe only the one for me.” You joked.

 “So, on to the actual part of this contest win!” Senoz clapped and Zadok reached for the list itinerary with a curse.

“Merchandise?” He asked the room.

Duncan stood up, his curly hair rippling down his back as the sofa bounced back into shape, relieved of his weight, “They put it back here.” He rumbled as he opened a big box labelled ‘exclusive’ and peered inside. He pulled free a shirt before huffing, “How about you come choose, eh?” He left it open and moved aside for you to squeeze in and look.

“Holy shit. This is exclusive Fanclub stuff!” You cursed as you pulled free the shirt, lanyard, and various stickers. You looked at the pin badges before there was another item that caught your eye, “They made plushies?!” You cooed as you dragged free the soft plush of Duncan.

“When the fuck did they make that?” He looked at you and laughed, a great bark of one breath before he shrugged and pulled his hair from his eyes, “Fine just take it. Before I change my mind. You want one of each of the rest too?”

“Please. Oh gosh, thank you so much.” You let Duncan dump the rest of the items in your bag.

“Where’s the plushies of the rest of us?” Senoz whined as he peered into the box, “No way there’s only Duncan!?” He hissed, “Bull shit.”

“Too bad, Senoz. You’re not kid friendly enough.” Blagden hissed at him as he took great pleasure in peering at what else they had to do, “Picture as well.” His talon tapped the list and Zadok nodded before he shouted for Frank.

 “Behaving?” Frank asked as he walked in, “Or are you calling me in to drag Blagden off someone?” He chuckled before Zadok leaned back and tapped the clipboard.

“We need the photographer.” The merman smiled.

Frank nodded, “Sure. I’ll go and grab him. Best get situated. He’ll not want to be in here long.” Frank closed the door behind him with a click and you took another calming breath before you tucked away your bag and chugged the rest of your drink in an effort to calm yourself down.

“Don’t make yourself sick!” Khadba chuckled as he tucked his braids back over his shoulder.

“That’s not a good look on a photo.” Senoz teased before walking around you and looking at your outfit.

“Mate. Stop it. It’s concerning.” Duncan pulled him into the sofa and smacked his hoof against the Demon’s leg.

“Now then,” Zadok smiled, “What sort of poses are you wanting. Obviously we can’t do anything sexual or which could injure us.”

Blagden chortled before purring, “I don’t think that’s what Lady Conch had to say last time you saw her.” The guys shook their heads, “I heard you two through the walls.”

“Enough, Blagden.” Khadba sneered, “Fan in the room.” He punched the Bicorn none too gently, “Remember your fucking manners.”

 “Uhm.” You tried to ignore the fury on Zadok’s face, “I would just like a big group photo if that’s okay? Maybe with you guys all crowded around and me in the middle. Maybe we could do some funny back to back things?” You asked quietly to the three men around you.

“Sure thing.” Zadok smiled thinly, “Duncan will have to crouch big style.” He teased.

“Not my fault you’re all fucking tiny.” The Minotaur clicked his tongue.

“I suppose it isn’t.” Zadok looked down at the list in his lap before humming, “This has been kind of lame…” He clicked his fingers, “How about single portraits with each of us too? We’ll sign each.” He smiled.

“How about you actually talk to ‘em huh?” Senoz shook his head and smiled, touching a tip of a horn before he offered his hand, “What do you do for a living?”

You swallowed, “I just work in a bar.” Awkwardly, you continued, “Me and Tom, my friend, we always go and see shows like these and dream about having a rock bar. The place we work is this trucker place. The music is decent, but it gets rowdy.” You laughed, “But its purely luck I won this…” You hung your head, “I’m glad I did…You guys are my heroes. I listened to everything. Anything new from when you first supported Howl. It was just so pretty and hard! Amazing!” You gushed, “All your music has got me through some hard stuff and I just felt like I should tell you all that.”

 “Here.” Khadba stood over you, offering a tissue, “You’re crying.” He hushed you.

“I’ve never heard anyone talk about our stuff like that.” Duncan wrapped a warm arm around you and gave you a squeeze as Zadok sat in silence.

“I’m glad it makes you happy.” Blagden offered from across the room.

Senoz nodded, “Music is the soul. If it helps you heal, then that’s good enough for all of us.” He patted your head and you wiped at your makeup before blubbering.

“Thank you for listening to us.” Zadok whispered, his fins flattening against his skin, “To know my work makes you feel such things. That is enough for me to continue to sing.” He touched your hand with his cool fingers before Frank opened the door with the photographer.

“You alright sweetheart?” He asked with a glare at the band.

“Yeah.” You sniffled, “I’m alright!” With a smile you stood up and binned the tissue, “I think I know exactly what kind of photo I want to have!”

The photographer pinched his nose and peered over the top of his sunglasses, “I haven’t got all day, you know.” He lisped a little and you noticed the red eyes. He was a vampire, “I have to set up with the media.”

“Come on.” Duncan barked a laugh again as he led you over to the backdrop set up in the corner.

 “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Frank asked as he helped you hop over the barrier to stand right in the centre stage. You were ready, having left your bad with Frank and Droz in the back, your new shirt pulled on after peeing. You were set for an awesome night. Before Frank could ask you another question, Khadba appeared from behind the curtain with a plastic cup in hand.

He waved once as he strode over, his rings and chains clinking before he offered you the cup, “A drink. On me.” The Orc nodded and smiled, revealing the silver rings around the base of his tusks, “I was easier on the Vodka.” He promised as he left you with Frank, “Have a good time, alright?”

“Thank you, and I will, I promise.” You shouted with a smile as he headed back behind the curtain, “You can go as well, Frank. I’ll be fine! People will be heading inside soon, and I know you have some checks to do.” You smiled, “Thank you for looking after me. You’ve been wonderful.”

“You’re very welcome.” He grinned with a nod, “Now you be careful. They’re no doubt going to get very rowdy.” He wagged his finger before disappearing behind the curtain. You nursed your drink for a few moments more before the curtain twitched again and Blagden appeared.

His black eyes quickly caught sight of you, and he huffed before offering you a small, plastic case, “Don’t burst your eardrums, cutie.” He tossed you the purple case, “Its going to get loud.” He made a horns sign at you before sauntering away, his heavy hooves clicking as his slick black fur disappeared back behind the curtains. You opened the case and looked at the industrial earplugs before smiling and slipping them into your pocket for the gig. The doors slammed open behind you, and you braced yourself for the onslaught of people as you texted Tom to elbow his way to the front.

 Tom shouted your name as he made his way close and you were quick to snag him by the shirt and pull him into the gap next to you. The werewolf was far less monstrous today. His eyes were still bright and orange, but he was not sporting his tail and snout.

“That crowd right there was a nightmare.” He sighed with relief as he laid his forearms on the banister and shuddered, “How was the meet?” Tom teased as he tugged his unruly hair backwards, “Did you suck face?”

“Absolutely not!” You smacked at his arm, “I had a bit of a cry, we had loads of pictures and I hung out with possibly the coolest band ever.”

“Oh, so just the normal then?” Tom snarked, “That sounds amazing. Sounds like you had fun.”

“Here look!” You showed him your phone and grinned clicking on the camera album, “They’re all very sweet.” The pictures were very safe. Zardok had his arm around you, his fingers up in the sign of the devil. Duncan was looming over the back of you with a monstrous glare. Senoz covered your eyes and opened up his mouth in a scarily wide grin. Khadba’s was a little awkward but he was smiling softly as you held his drumsticks with a smile. Blagden had you pose back to back with him, his snout tossed in the air like a regal pony.

 Tom gave you a smile, “Honestly, I’m really happy for you…Though I am jealous Duncan isn’t cold in only suspenders and trousers.”

“Tom he is covered in curly fur!” You laughed as you slipped your phone away, “You’re the same when you shift!”

The werewolf hummed, “But would I wear leather suspenders? I think not.” He snapped his fingers at you before looking at the empty drink in your hand, “They’ve fed you alcohol? Lord save us all.” Tom mocked a prayer before you elbowed his side.

“Khadba gave me one!” Tom went cross-eyed to look at your one finger held up to his nose, “I’ve had two in total and that’s it. I promise.”

“Maybe I needed to word my warning a little more strongly.” He tutted before laughing at you, “You’re dangerous with one. Let’s see how you manage two making you do stupid things.”

“I’ll be fine, Tom. Stop being such a mother hen.” You joked before taking a sharp breath as the room was plunged into pitch black.

“I hope you brought your wig.” Tom teased next to your ear, “Because we’re about to get our hair fucking singed off.”

The darkness made the fans in the arena roar with joy and you grinned as the support act appeared on the stage, guitars held up for the audience to see.

“Well, maybe not just yet.” Tom lamented before readying himself at the front for the show.

 The support band were excellent, and you cheered at the front after their performance, already sweating and far too hot. Tom grinned before going to fetch you both a drink. He returned with cold plastic cups.

“Water, I promise.” He clinked his plastic cup with your own and pulled his hair back away from his face as you looked at the stagehands drop a great sheet cover over the stage. It was dark and they worked by torchlight to set up for SIREN.

“I’m so excited.” You cooed, “I never thought I’d see this…”

“Come on, don’t get all gooey on me.” Tom chuckled and grinned with sharp canines as he shrugged his flannel off to expose his own band shirt, “I’m excited as well. This is going to be insane!” He laughed, “So much better than their support show.” He looked wistfully at the stage and downed the rest of his drink just as the lights snapped off. The crowd roared behind you and you threw your cup over the barrier as you bounded against it and peered up as something was placed in the centre of the stage behind the sheer purple curtain.

 There was a rumble over the speakers before the purple sheet dripped down to the floor. There was a pitch-black tank in the centre of the stage. A great hissing noise blended into something close to a whale song before white light lit up the water. The crystal-clear water held Zadok. His white skin glowed with burning purple light as he twisted in the water, a microphone taped to his chest and throat as his eyes opened, pure white. His mouth opened to reveal clear needle-like teeth as he released another great bellowing noise into the dark room. It was silent otherwise, except for Zadok’s haunting song. You peered into the water as he twisted and released a series of clicks as water began to slosh and crash in the speakers. The merman’s claws and webbed hands reached out of the water before he pulled himself free of the water and slid into the darkness of the stage, his bioluminescence lighting his path as he let out a gentle noise and merged into a soft human sounding lilt. Your mouth hung open in awe as he stood at the front of the stage, humming before he opened his mouth wide.

“And now we stand. Silent. Darkness.” There was a pause before his eyes flashed and he hissed, “THE COLD DARK WATER.”

 Suddenly, the spotlights flashed as Khadba’s cymbals crashed and the guitars roared three chords together. Blagden’s bass rumbled on in the background as the guitar rolled with a lilting scale and Zadok continued to sing centre stage, dripping water from his skin as he kneeled at the front of the stage, glowing brilliantly as the lights died and flashed once more with another thunderous crash and guitar strum. There was silence before the guitars wailed and the song truly began and you looked up as the crowd roared, listening to the beginnings of the chorus eagerly before the water crashing started again and Zadok’s haunting melody reverberated around the stadium. Tom jumped with a cheer next to you as the song grew into a thunderous noise like water crashing against the cliffs, and you watched Zadok fall to his knees as the storm calmed and the water settled. He settled down and hummed into the microphone as he finished the gentle ending. The guitars faded as the spotlights went off one by one and you grinned as the water trickled and dropped to a stop. The crowd cheered and you smiled as the lights came on properly to reveal the band.

“Are you motherfuckers ready for some mind-blowing music?!” Zadok screamed at the audience as Duncan’s guitar gently plodded onwards with an intermediate tune. Blagden sauntered over to him, his bass rumbling as he grinned and the two of them stood back to back as Zadok introduced the next song.

“Now this one is an oldie. A very old song named Blood.” He purred before Senoz grinned and started the introduction riffs.

 “AND NOW ITS TIME TO BURN!” Zadok howled into the microphone sometime later. Duncan thudded to the front of the stage, slick with sweat, his curly hair tossing left and right as he slammed one hoof on top of the box and slapped at his bare chest. The crowd cheered as both Senoz and Duncan started the song. With a huff and a toss of his head, Duncan launched himself into the solo, his finger dancing over the frets as he felt the music in his legs, stomping on top of the box as Zadok headbanged towards the others, growling low into the microphone occasionally as Duncan’s fingers tore down the frets in another feat of speed. You screamed at the front as he ducked low, his hair flying over the top of his horns as he continued into a reverb before throwing the plectrum down to you with a wink and a great shake of his head, his fur rippling as he stomped his way over to Senoz to continue the song. You held the plectrum tightly to your chest. In the middle of the show you watched Senoz and Blagden butt heads in the middle of the stage, their horns rammed together as the song blurred into the next, stomping and kicking at each other’s legs as they battled each other in how fast they could strum their way up and down the necks of their guitars. Khadba interrupted their duel with a crashing solo, his tattooed arms bulging with overworked muscles as he spun his stick between beats, sweating in the heat of the spotlights. The crowd roared at the solos and screamed with Zadok until it was the end of the show, and the band stood to take the applause, sweating, panting and smiling as the crowd clapped and cheered.

 Tom grinned at the end of the show, his eyes wild with happiness as you both stood still, waiting for the rest of the crowd to filter out of the hall. You smiled at the stage as the crew were quick to start cleaning up.

“That was insane.” He huffed, his shirt tucked into his jeans as he wiped at the sweat on his chest, “Where’s all your stuff?” Tom asked with curious, half-shifted yellow eyes, snorting softly with the excitement of the gig still burning his nerves.

You smiled and pointed to the curtain, “Backstage. I think Droz will have them. He’s security. We might have to wait a little bit to see him though.”

“Oh, getting in with the security as well I see!” Tom teased, “Who’s that waving at you? Through the curtain there.” He pointed again and you squinted at the grey hand.

“That’ll be Droz.” You whispered as the last few stragglers collected stray plectrums and setlists before it was just the two of you. Tom shrunk away as the intimidating frame of the Orc hybrid came into view. He held you bag in his hand and you smiled brightly, tired and sweaty from the gig.

“Thank you, Droz, you’re a lifesaver.” Gently, he handed you your bag, appraising Tom with a curious red eye.

“Your welcome. It was nice having you.” Droz grumbled, spinning the ring in his nose before he gave you a wave, “I’ll tell Frank you got off safe. Be careful on the way home.”

“Thank you!” You shouted as he disappeared into the back.

“So, are all of the band that ripped, or just him?” Tom joked as you shouldered your merchandise.

“Says you! Come on. Let’s get home. I think this was enough excitement for anyone, my heads ready to explode.”

 “Never have I felt so exhausted.” You groaned in your seat as you sat down in the café near your apartment. The city was at least quiet by the time you woke up today. It was around ten, and most people were at work. You waited, half asleep, for the server to dump your coffee on your table with your meal and hummed quietly as your phone vibrated.

‘I hope you didn’t end up with one of the hotties from last night at home!’

You scowled at Tom’s message.

‘Fuck off. I’m tired and you’re not helping.’

He pinged your phone a few more times and you ignored it as your food and coffee was placed before you.

“Thank you.” You smiled and turned in your seat to look around. That was when you saw the one person you didn’t expect to see.

---

Chapter 2 - Duncan

Chapter 3- Zadok

Chapter 4- Senoz

Chapter 5 - Blagden

Chapter 6- Khadba

[mayans-sauce]

Interstellar: Chapter 1

Pairing: younger! EZ Reyes x Astra Beckett

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: cursing but other than that none.

Summary: Ezekiel and Astra get accepted into the space program. For context: both of them are 27 in this and EZ is more on the skinnier side to begin with.

Let me know if you want to be tagged/removed for this story!

GROUP CHAT for updates!

Introduction

Chapter 2

⭐️Interstellar Masterlist⭐️

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The Year 2052

Astra burst through the front door of the house, almost screaming at the top of her lungs, “IT CAME! IT CAME! Dad, it finally came.” Her dad got up from where he was working on the kitchen table. “From the academy?” “YES! We need to call EZ.”

Astra pulled out her laptop, calling EZ on a video call. He answered within a second. “I was just about to call. Did you get yours?” She held the big envelope in view. Felipe and Marisol were standing right beside their son, waiting for him to open up the envelope. “Let’s open them up and then read it at the same time,” EZ said. She could see the terrified look on his face; hers must look the same as well. This was the moment of truth, what both had been working towards for years. Tearing it open and pulling the letter out. “Alright, EZ, on three, and then we read it. Ready?” “1, 2, 3.”

Dear Astra Beckett,

The Celestial Academy would like to congratulate you on your place in our space program.

“WE GOT IN!” EZ and Astra exclaimed at the same time. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” Her dad embraced her hard and tight. A single tear was falling off his face. In the background, it could be heard EZ’s parents congratulating and hugging him as well. “What more does it say?” Felipe asked his son. EZ read the rest of the letter.

We would like to welcome you and your family for a tour of our top-class institution, where you will be getting an introduction to our one of a kind program, our teachers and teaching, our revolutionary technology, the dormitories, and so much more.

We can’t wait to make you a part of our family and spend the next five years with you, making you a one-of-a-kind astronaut.

“We did it, Astra.”

“We did it, Ezekiel.”

Packing a few clothes, some books, space-themed posters and decorations, her telescope her dad got her when she was ten years old and a few other things. She didn’t need a lot with her since this was a new chapter of her life, and she was sure she would buy a lot more stuff in the five years they would be there.

The next day

The next day they were early on their way. The drive to the academy wasn’t a long one. It was just 4 hours from Santo Padre. It was a nice little road trip for all. EZ’s brother Angel tagged along as well, who was also a good friend of Astra, so it was good that Felipe had space for all in his seven-seater car.

The Celestial Academy was like a little city, a city full of nerds and the newest technology in the world. Just getting into the area required special permission, and guards were standing at every campus entrance.

“Holy shit,” Astra and EZ said at the same time as they entered the gates with the car. The buildings stood tall and proud, different holograms showcasing the academy’s various aspects, hovering supply trucks moving from building to building with supplies, and so much more. It was so much to take in, and it would take a long time for them to get used to it all. Felipe parked the car at the visitor’s parking garage.

The walk up to the academy’s main building was short but long at the same time, with the nerves running through both of them. Astra could feel her heart almost jumping out of her chest with how fast it was beating. She grabbed EZ’s hand for comfort. “It’s gonna be fine. We can do this,” he comforted her. She knew she would be able to do this with her best friend by her side. “I know. I’m glad I have you by my side EZ.” He smiled at her, showing that he was grateful that she was here with him as well.

When they entered the building, they were welcomed with a big sign that said “Welcome New Recruits” written on it. They followed the rest of the people into the big speaking room where all the other recruits and their families were seated. The lights dimmed down, and the one and only founder of the academy walked out on stage and started speaking but not before getting a big welcome from everyone.

“Welcome recruits. My name is Damien, founder of this institution, and it is my pleasure to welcome you all here. When I started this program some 30 years ago, I didn’t think that it would turn out to be the best and most desirable space program in the entire world. But in the 30 years we have operated, around 200 individuals have become world-class astronauts with various specialties.” The room burst out in applause. “For the 30 of you that have made it into the program, I congratulate you for the hard work and sacrifice that has made it possible for you to have been accepted. But there is no time for celebrations yet. Not all of you will make it.” The room was dead silent now. “Almost 50% of you will buckle under the immense pressure of the program and leave within the first year. That’s when the real competition begins. Just 6 of you will be picked out for space travel after three years here and start the real training while the rest of you will be guaranteed education and a job at this institution. It’s going to be a hard five years, folks. The rest of the people on this campus, and I wish you good luck.” Damien got sent off with applause and hollering from everyone in the room. “Fuck, that was scary,” EZ whispered to Astra. “We can do this, Ezekiel. I know we can.” Now it was her turn to encourage and comfort him.

There was given some information about what was going to happen throughout the day. Free food, games, and a tour of the facilities was on the plan before eventually, all friends and family needed to leave.

Later in the day

After a fun last day with the family, it was time to say goodbye. Astras' dad tried his best not to cry, but he couldn’t help himself. His little girl was all grown up, and now her real journey would begin. “Dad… don’t cry… it's gonna be fine,” Astra hugged her old man as hard as she could. “I’m just so proud of you, my little star. Your mom would be so proud,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “Stop it, now I’m the one that’s crying.” “Just promise me you'll visit… I’ll be all sad and alone in the big house without you.” She nodded her head at him, “I promise I'll visit as much as I can… I promise, dad.” “Pinky promise?” Holding his pinky out for her to interlock with hers, she gladly did so, “I promise.”

“Come here, Ezekiel. My little astronaut,” Marisol hugged and kissed his cheek repeatedly. EZ loved his mom and the affection she would give him, but now it was kind of embarrassing since there were so many people. “Mom… mom.” “I’m sorry, baby. I’m just so proud of you, and I love you so much.” “I love you too, mom.” He gave her a final hug before he moved on to his dad. “Proud of you, son.” “Thanks, pop.” They gave each other a quick hug.

Last but not least, it was Angel’s turn to say his goodbyes. “Proud of you lil bro, you fucking space nerd.” “Shut up, Angel,” EZ said playfully before giving his big brother a big hug. “Don’t cause any trouble now that I’m not there.” Angel held his hands up in defence, “Hey, can’t promise anything.” EZ just shook his head at him.

Saying the last goodbyes to each other, and then they left, leaving Astra and EZ to watch them walk away. When they were out of sight, he turned towards her and grabbed her hand, “come on, let’s get settled into the dormitory.”

Astra walked into her assigned room and was greeted by the girl she was going to live with. She had already set up most of the stuff on her side of the room. The room was huge and spacious, and it even had a private bathroom. “Hi, I’m Mia, nice to meet you,” she reached out her hand, which Astra gladly accepted, “I’m Astra, it’s nice to meet you, Mia.” “I hope you don’t mind that I took the left side of the room.” “Go ahead, no problem.” They talked and got to know each other as they packed out their things and put them in place. Astra liked Mia a lot, they had a lot in common, and she knew that they would be great friends. “I can’t believe we are here; it’s so surreal,” Mia said as they got done packing out and sat on their beds. “I know, right! I’m afraid that I’ll wake up tomorrow, and it was all a dream,” Astra answered.

Before bed, all the recruits meet up with the teachers to get their plan for the next few upcoming weeks and the whole five-year plan as a whole. EZ was already buddies with his roommate, Mateo, and all 4 of them clicked immediately, already forming a good group and friendship of their own.

Later in the evening

Astra was trying her hardest to fall asleep; it was a big day tomorrow, the first official day ever, but her mind was racing like crazy, and she couldn’t get it to quiet down. She decided to get up and go out to the common room to take her mind off it for a while, sitting down by the window that overlooked the futuristic town. After a few minutes, footsteps could be heard, and she turned around to see who it was. Her frown turned into a smile when she saw him coming towards her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” EZ asked as he sat down beside her. She shook her head no, “my mind won’t shut up.” “Yeah, me neither.” They sat in silence for a few moments before EZ spoke up. “In 5 years, we will be up there,” he pointed towards the sky. “You don’t know that Ezekiel… there are 30 of us, and only 6 make it.” “I know we'll make it. We have each other, Astra, and you are the smartest girl I know. Even if I don’t make it, you will.” “You know I will never go if you aren’t going either.” “I know… but I will force you to go. Even if I have to push you in the spaceship myself.” Astra looked down on the floor, getting shy for a moment, “I know you will, Zeke.”

She started biting her nails, a habit she did when she felt nervous, and EZ knew that, he knew everything about her. “Hey, stop that,” EZ took her hand in his, “it's gonna be fine.” “It’s gonna be fine,” she repeated in a whisper.

They sat like that for a little while longer. Just holding each other’s hand and looking up towards the sky, getting prepared for the next five years of their life.

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Let me know what you think❤️

Interstellar Taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @yourwonkywriter @spnaquakindgdom @fuchszie @noz4a2

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tis the Damn Season

Chapter 6- Last Christmas

Hi all! Sorry she took forever- I edited all by myself, so be gentle!

Plans change. Tickets do too, it seems. Harry's beautiful hope, his gift, it came in handy.

Not in the right way, the intended way. Not because she came to him, ran around the world or even an unfamiliar city with him. Those were dreamy ideas, when she wound up spending all of fall semester in Holmes Chapel. Those daydreams shaded the hospital walls and funeral home with sunny possibilities.

Her father had a heart attack and her mother a breakdown. It was too late, when her mother noticed he'd been out with the dog for too long and the dog was inside whining.

"I knew, in my gut. Day dawned wrong. And then never ended." She'd cried. Her mother had cried in her arms in a reversal Emma felt was way beyond her maturity level.

That hadnt been over the phone. Over the phone had only been muffled sobbing and her dad's name, "John."

Emma didn't call him John, but she could forgive her mother. It was up to her mother's good friend Di to share the news: Emma had always looked up to Di, she'd had some tragic marriage in her youth, and then decided god damned men weren't for her.

At the moment, Emma was of a similar mind.

Emma assumed she'd have a similar life to Di, had planned for it actually. Di had her own house, a thriving career as a solicitor and no children. A life like that, of her own, was Emma's dearest wish before she wished to be able to say yes to Harry.

Now she just wished her dad was still around.

There were so many plans to make, a funeral to finance and a mother to support, to put back together.

It's a wonder Emma wasn't an outright romantic, the way her parents had been, lifelong sweethearts. They still had moon eyes for each other until the very end, could be found holding hands on the couch often. Emma had come home unexpectedly early last year and found her mother sitting on the kitchen counter with her father between her legs making out like teenagers.

It was a lot to live up to.

Emma supposed it was why she kept all her heart eyes and love life in the closet and saved it all up to spend once a year. Just like an old lady's Christmas budget.

This year, she didn't think it would be happening. Harry must have had some rich person thing going on with the ticket, because the minute she decided that rather than ask her mom to buy her a ticket to get home, for the funeral, instead use the one she  had from Harry, he'd called. There was clear excitement in his voice, hot on the heels of her phone call to the airlines. It was August. He was set to embark soon, she'd just got back to Amsterdam. He must have thought she was gonna sneak in a cheeky visit.

"You're coming?"

"What?" She was so disoriented. Coming where? What was going on? Her brain was muffled with plans her feelings kept stumbling over at the knees like a trip wire.

"To see me? I got a notification you used the ticket?"

Her brain was muddled, like an egg in a hot pan, what? How did he do that? "No, Harry, umm I'm not coming. I don't even know where you are right now." She barely knew where she was.

"Whose fault is that?" There was a tiny edge to his voice that would cut her if she could even notice. "You could have answered my calls."

"Harry," she sighed, she had been avoiding him a bit. Mostly because she had an evergreen memory of his disappointed face when she told him going on tour was too much, that she simply didn't have the time. She was glad she couldn't see his face when she said the next bit. His voice was buoyant with hope, she was about to pop that balloon. "I need the ticket to go somewhere else." She couldn't bear to say it, was biting her lip hard not to think it, the liquid memory brimming anyway.

"Yeah, ok. Well, Happy Christmas I guess. See you in four months, maybe." The bitterness in his voice was like an old lemon and she didn't even have time to sweeten it with truth when his phone clicked off.

That made her resentful. How could this truth be sweet in any way? It got worse over time, the resentment just nestled among her other griefs.

Then he wouldn't answer her calls. She supposed that was giving her a taste of her own medicine and it was a quick wash down her throat with no water after the other jagged pill life had just forced down her throat.

And it didn't get better. Though, she had to scoff at herself for even having a square of heart for Harry to break leftover.

Break it did though, when she heard he had a new girlfriend, a blonde, a model, a French blonde model.

Of course.

Emma couldn't help but stalk her instagram. His was useless, ill used, so when she'd finished a day of running the house she'd been a child in while taking care of her grieving mother, she'd torture herself some more and watch stories where the beautiful blonde played in a pool, or made jokes, or showed the big mirror over her bed.

That one hurt most. She'd never seen Harry's bed, nor he hers. The little devil voice inside her head whisper shouted that he much preferred the one he was in now, with the mirror and the model to the tiny inn room they'd spent all their overnights in.

She didn't hear from him, and she never called to explain herself either. What would she say? My life fell apart and I needed your ticket, but it hurt to much to say it out loud and you were to much of an asshole to let me say it.

Harry wasn't an asshole, not really, he was hurt. Emma was stunned she had that power, though she had admitted to herself there was more between them than mistletoe kisses and holiday fucks.

She'd admitted it was more to her.

He acted like it was more to him, unless this was just a bruised ego. She didn't like to think that. Harry had every reason to have a giant head, figuratively to go with the oversized cranium he actually sported, but he'd never shown it. He was cocky at times, just enough to be sexy. All of that was a veneer over a sweet vulnerability that made everybody want to be around him, protect him, love him.

Did she love him?

No, she didn't think so, but given more time, the potential was there, like a rock at the top of a hill, all it would take was a push.

Which, time on tour with him would have been. If she could have went. Which she couldn't. She wanted to explain all of this to him as soon as she has the chance- which she would in 6 hours.

Her promises to herself were that she would not cry and that she would accept his new relationship. His real relationship. Emma would not try to touch him, or kiss him, or confess her almost love to him.

He was probably in love himself, from her internet stalks, she was halfway there, with both of them. Harry edged it out by being perfect in person. Camille, that was frenchies name, could only be half as perfect as Emma made her in her head.

"Do I wear the sweater?" She asked her reflection. She'd had to become her best friend the last six months. Emma might have called her mom her best friend, just based on time spent together, if their relationship was reciprocal, but at this turn of the road, she was supporting her mom as she grieved and got back to herself. Emma could see glimmers. She had hope.

She however wasn't sure she had hope for herself. Was she really contemplating wearing the sweater Harry gave her last Christmas to his mother's Christmas party? How pathetic was that? She was rolling her eyes at herself. He'd had a big year, and he bought lots of gifts, probably for his new girl, so her thinking he'd remember felt narcissistic.

Plus, it was her favorite, which mostly had nothing to do with the fact it was from Harry.

Emma really didn't want to go, but Gemma was expecting her. And she really needed to see her, have her support. They'd been texting, a lot. Gemma had heard about her dad and reached out. It was the only emotionally connection Emma really had, those texts, and she needed to see Gemma, honestly. Even if it meant seeing Harry.

She might have wanted to see Harry.

To explain, and maybe just to see him. Make sure he was happy, feel his warmth, steal him back.

No, that was unlikely. See if he was happy and wish him well.

She wore the sweater.

The house was cozy when she arrived, like it always was and it thawed her heart enough for it to ache a bit. For something new. Her heart ached a fair bit off and on, then went numb. It was the only way she'd survived lately. Emma knew she was putting off really feeling her major loss.

It was a strange pleasure to mourn something as minor as heartbreak.

The hug from Gemma made the trip through the snow and down memory lane worth it. And the people all around her and their laughter were invigorating.

The alcohol helped as well. Their house was pretty dry but had been especially when she started to notice her mom was unconsciously developing a bottle a day habit. When it wasn't there she didn't mention it though, so Emma didn't buy it, except for special occasions.

She was merry, and felt held. Her hand was in Gemma's. She'd stayed away from the back bathroom and the kitchen, even come in the front door.

Emma felt like she was getting away with it.

Harry wasn't there, with girlfriend in tow or not. So all her pontificating about checking on him was all for naught, and she was getting all the crosses. She certainly felt like today was a plus.

Until she heard a tone of elation issue from Anne's happy voice that only motherly joy could produce.

Harry was here.

"Fuck!" Came out of her mouth, and Gemma looked at her sharply.

"What?"

"Nothing, guess I'm jumpy, your mum's shout made me spill." Emma thought she shouted an excuse me while she hurried up the stairs to hide, find a place farthest away from Harry and his happiness. He might be alone, but if he was glowing like a brand, the way he did when they holed up together only slightly dimmed by their parting, now because of it, from some other lover, Emma couldn't stand it.

Plus, she thought she'd heard another name connected to his over her own rated r exclamation.

She was coming out of the bathroom. Emma had suppressed her tears ruthlessly and her bottom lip might bruise from the brutal teeth marks she employed. She'd have given herself some words in the mirror, affirmations helped, but what was she gonna say. "You're happy for him."

She wasn't. She was happy with him.

"Fuck this." Emma decided the only course of action was a straight line to her parents house. her mother's house, she mentally corrected and gave herself a more legitimate reason to cry than over a boy. Even if that boy was Harry Styles.

Who she barely stopped herself from running into as she kept her head down and rounded the bannister to head down the stairs.

"Jesus! You gave me a fright!" She dramatized and kept a hand over her heart and her tear stained face down.

"Emma." His voice was flat, and not cold, but the warmth that snuggled around her name was absent and she shivered. "I wondered if you'd be here." Not Hoped, she noted. "What are you doing up here? Don't your usually use the back bathroom?" There was just a bit of heat in that statement, but it didn't warm, it burned. Was he being mean, that wasn't like him? "Nice sweater." Ok, definitely mean.

Her face came up with that thought, it shocked her out of the sense of control she was exercising.

He did look hard, mean, for a moment, but soft around the edges like a melting popsicle when he caught her face.

"Are you crying?" His hand came up and he stopped it mid air before it wiped away her tear.

Emma felt her body lean into him and another tear slipped out when his warm palm and always chilly finger tips touched her cheek.

God she'd missed him! While she was bolstering her mother, she'd needed support. He was supportive, or would have been. But he wasn't taking her calls, and she couldn't bring herself to text, "my dad died". Then, it was such old news, she figured he'd have heard from Gemma.

He took his hand away like she was a hot cooktop.

He pushed his hair back off his forehead with the hand probably damp with her tears and bravely changed the subject. "How long you in town for this time? Jetting off to some climate refuge hotspot soon?"

Emma flinched. Oh- he didn't know.

"Un, no, I'm living here." She didn't elaborate, maybe saying it out loud was as hard as texting it. "I was actually just about to head home to check on my mum. The back bathroom was in use, and the cold makes me need to pee." What the fuck was she talking about, he didn't need that information.

His dimple pressed in just a bit and he went to say something, but Emma just couldn't. She couldn't look at him anymore, or tell him about why she lived there, or about the ticket he seemed to have been hurt enough to move on over. She definitely didn't want to see evidence of his movement, especially not his upgrade. "Anyway, nice to see you," the words shot out of her mouth, impresonal and true. "Bye Harry."

"Wait Emma!" She thought she heard, but she just kept going. She'd tell Gemma she was sick.

She nearly was when she saw Harry's girlfriend hugging her closest friend in the living room.

"Oh god."

Luckily, when she got home, her mum was awake and feeling chatty, not blue. Emma focused on her and the special she was watching. Let the warm sound of her mother's once common laughter wrap around her as a blanket. It was more comforting than a cup of tea.

She waited until later to cry herself to sleep.

The next day was Christmas- the first without her father. She dried her rightful tears before she saw her mom, though she would have had all the standing in the world for them and she felt better about them than those she's shed the night before. She knew though that her wet face would cause a cascade event, the first drop in a waterfall, so she dried them up.

They had traditions to get through.

And get through they did. They each wrapped a gift for her father that they left under the tree and held each other right before tucking into a late brunch and preparing a boozy and sweet laden Christmas dinner, Emma contributed the puddings.

They were very much her mother's favorite, and she broke out a scandi recipe she'd enjoyed the last several years.

She Skyped her university friends, they exchanged the small gifts she'd mailed them and them her. She missed them something awful. She missed school horribly, so much she even emailed her advisor. All of her heart hoped to return after the winter break.

Emma thought the feeling of missing something was a bit like a paper cut and losing your keys combined.

Harry called late Christmas Day, just a few minutes shy of Boxing Day. That more than stung, it was a gut punch, or a knife plunge, though she'd never had either.

Emma ignored the call from Harry. What was there to say?

Boxing Day, well, Emma wasn't much of a drinker, but it was basically a tenet of British culture to get obliterated while watching the queen.

For the last several years, Emma had been off her face on Harry. This year she chose savingnon blanc with her mum. Two days, then they'd go back to a dry house. Tradition was tradition, and she couldn't think about the one she'd started and ached all over for.

What a pale imitation of ecstasy drunkenness was, though she supposed they both left a hangover, a residue.

Her bed, when she begged off to it early was warm and fragrant, but it smelled all wrong. No sandalwood or black coffee, not even the mint she'd come to associated with the comfort of love, or something like it.

It was worse, because when she closed her eyes, having seen Harry's someone in person, she could see him snugged up to her, so cozy. It was in their place, their room at the Boat's Head.

It was over, Boxing Day, when she puked.

She had another missed call from Harry. 11:59 Her personal witching hour.

The next day was a little bit better, either because she had her literal hangover to tend, or because she'd ripped the bandaid off her hurt and let the wound air.

"Hiya!" Gemma's voice and face were bright, unlike the gray day.

"Hello." Emma smiled and her voice held it, she held onto it. "You're merry!"

"Yeah, I'm at the pub. Everybody is at the pub," she flashed the phone around so Emma could see the waving swaying people, "we wanted to get you outta the house, you made such an effective Irish exit the other day you've let your people down, we need to see your smile. You feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you." Emma thought about it, there was a pull to the pub. "Um, maybe I can swing over."

It only took a few minutes to throw on jeans and a jumper, not her former favorite. The walk was a little longer.

When she found them, her first comment was "Im not drinking!" Over a grimace.

"Too much wine with old Elizabeth, huh? " Gemma Laughed

"Yes! Did you know my mum has a long pour?" Emma shared with a laugh.

"No, but mine's gotten more heavy on the booze with me lately, they must like the new stages. Daughters as actual friends and drinking partners. Mum is thrilled!" Gemma grinned.  "So am I! Harry's a little jealous."

Emma tried to catch her grimace before it stomped across her face. Gemma kept talking and she thought she'd got away with it.

"He wants to be one of the girl's! He came down last night and mum, Camille and I were sharing wine and mum was showing her atrocious pictures. You'd think he'd be mad or embarrassed! He was like, 'Where's my glass?'" Gemma was staring at her while she chuckled.

Emma had less success not responding. Her face was a picture she was sure, a jealous one. And then she heard herself asking, "what's she like?" She gulped down the g word she almost voiced. "Camille?"

Gemma made a funny face, then looked at her again. "Um, she's silly and kinda quiet and I think she's worried my mom will care she's posed nude."

She wouldn't. That wasn't Anne's style. And if she did have an issue, she'd never voice it. She was really big on respecting her kids choices. Even some of the stupider ones Harry had made.

Was she ranked among those now?

"Why do you ask?" The gentleness in a Gemma's voice told Emma she knew more than she was saying.

Emma couldn't explain, she was still in such a tender state, like a fissured piece of glass, she knew she couldn't go over it. "I just hope Harry's happy."  It was the only true thing she could say.

And Gemma, bless her just looped her arm through Emma's and said like she was holding a cracked egg. "He is." She left it at that, before she stood, pulling Emma after her. "And we need another drink." Apparently Emma was drinking, she needed it.

They spent another couple hours at the pub and Emma walked home through the soft snow. Her nose was stuffy, and her eyes were leaking, and she was drunk. Least she realized she must be, cuz she was crying. She really hated crying.

She was still weeping under her breath when she got home and found Harry on her doorstoop.

"You're still here?" She boggled. She assumed he'd taken his girlfriend to his big London home Emma had never been to, since she wasn't ever his g word.

"Yeah." He rubbed his hands over his corduroy flares. She'd consider what that might mean, but the pants distracted her. Those were new, must be getting fashion influences from new places, mew people. Those pants were roomy for him. He looked good in them. He looked good, happy.

"Did you need something?" Seeing himwas ripping her guts out and she could barely keep more tears at bay. Her insides were dangerously close to the skin now, tender and exposed. She hoped the distance between them and the weather and, well, maybe his rose colored glasses brought on by loving some other girl, he wouldn't notice her crying.

Over him. At the moment.

"No, I, um," he swallowed. "I thought we might talk." He made those green eyes at her and she hated it. Cuz they were soft and for someone else these days.

"I think we've said it all."

"We haven't said anything, not really, in a year."

"Yeah, well actions over words mate." Good, she was angry. She tried to go around him, into her door. Out of the cold and this situation.

"Emma, wait." He caught her shoulders and her blood froze in her veins but her tears were hot on her cheeks. "I'mso sorry about your dad." He choked up too.

She looked at him and let hurt run down her face, didn't even bother trying to stiffen her upper lip. When he opened his arms, she went to him and cried in a way she really hadn't let herself, into the comfort of his scent, the hurt of his presence.

Emma wasn't sure how long she cried, they wound up siting on the cold stone bench when their knocking knees froze.

"S that why you used the ticket?" He whispered against her hair sometime later.

She nodded. Sniffed up her tears and his pain laced smell.

"Why didn't you call me?"

She shrugged.

"I would have understood. And I would have come, to be with you."

Her tears apparently hadn't run out. She knew that, but she was hurt, by his hurt and his expectation.

She looked up at him. Her lips were so close to his, the outer edge that felt so plush and lovely.

That was a Liberty she didn't have. Maybe never a right she had, like him just expecting her to drop her goals to go to him.

"Where's your girlfriend?" She said the word like the four letters it felt like it was to her.

"Um," he stumbled over the subject change . "She was tired."

"You tell her you were coming to see a girl you used to fuck?"

"What?" He looked at her with a frown and Emma supposed she was being mean, mean but honest. "Don't say it like that. That's not what we were about."

Emma quirked a brow at him. "No?"

"Listen, why are you being like this?" He swallowed and looked like the wronged party when he was the one who assumed the worst of her, then abandoned her, moved on, and showed up, she could only assume, to rub it in her face.

The last year had been the worst of her life, and he'd been part of that. Mostly his absence.

Whoever's fault that was.

"Look, I don't need your pity or your condolences. Or your forgiveness. You just assumed I was taking advantage of you like you didn't know me at all. Which I realized is true apart from knowing what I look like naked, right? Let's be honest Harry? Huh, I'm just the girl you used to fuck over break. Your Christmas bit of fun. Til you found your next model. Who you couldn't wait to come home and show off, right in my face. So if we were more, you're a heartless asshole." She was crying over him now, but half the tears at least were angry and her face must be bright red.

The kicked puppy look on his face was so genuine and felt so false to her she could scream. "Why would I even think you would care if I had a girlfriend or not? If anybody was just the person the other thought of as a holiday fling, it was you about me, Emma."  He huffed, took down the finger he'd stood up to point at her. "I tried for more, asked for more?"

"When?" He'd asked for more, how'd she miss that?

"What'd you think the ticket was for? That was me asking you for more, at least more time?"

"I don't have extra time." She countered. Emma supposed that was some mealy mouthed passive way of saying you wanted to spend time with a person at least.

"And I do?" He yelled that before taking a big breath and muttering sorry. "Listen, I know what you're about, and that you are very serious saving the world, but I'm just as busy as you, more, and I would have made time for you."

"Why?" She stood up into his space. "So I could just miss you more, fall more for you and not get to have you in any real way? To torture myself?" And there is was. Emma knew the ache of the first weeks without him, and she'd always counted their brief time together as worth it. Subjecting herself to more just seemed masochistic. "Have more time with you so I have to get over you all over again multiple times a year."

"Who says you would have had to get over me? We could have been together!" Both of their voices had escalated past the bounds of polite disagreement.

"Together in every way except literally?" She threw her hands out at her sides. "What's the point of that?"

"The point?" He huffed. "The point is that I wanted you and you wanted me, and we could have had each other, but you're too busy," he sneered, "and couldn't talk to me."

"I couldn't talk to anyone!" She screamed. "I was supposed to text you that my dad died and I needed to use the ticket that was supposed to be a gift but was more like a curse, to take care of my mom. That my dream was at best on hold while I made sure my mum could get out of bed?" He looked a little slapped. "While you were off what? Being a rockstar? Having a record breaking year? Moving on? Out of spite?!" She didn't want to think that, but she'd wondered. She knew she was giving herself to much credit. "Why you made sure to bring her to Holmes Chapel? You take her to the Boar's Head too? Or just fuck her in your mum's powder room?" The words were explosive, the cadence like charges lighting off each other. Emma felt like a powder keg.

He was shaking his head. "Stop it. No, no, I didn't move on, not until I thought you were done with me."

"Oh, when I needed you and you wouldn't answer my calls?"

He looked at the ground then. When his eyes came up , the lovely green of them was even more vibrant, due to the tears crowding around their ages. "Emma, I'm so sorry about that. I'll never forgive myself."

His sincerity softened her, though the anger she'd wrapped around herself like a coat was all that was keeping her ribs together.

"I'm so sorry, I know the last year has been more than anybody should have to bear, especially alone." He took  a big breath. "But Camille, I didn't, it's not," he stumbled over the words like they were glass edges, but Emma had a feeling she was the one who was about to get cut. "Um, she and I just met and, well, we, we get on." That was a kind way to put it. "I wasn't looking for somebody else. But I was lonely and she's," the changes on his face ripped through Emma. "She's lovely. I brought her home, because I wanted mum to meet her." That told Emma everything.

"You love her?" She already knew the answer.

He ran his hand through his locks, avoided eye contact until the last second, "yeah, yeah, I think I might."

Emma was nodding, biting her lip to gatekeep the fresh round of tears threatening. "That's good Harry, I'm," she breathed, "I'm happy for you."

He looked at her then. "Really?"

"Course, I care about you, your happiness." That brought on the tears and he reached for her and she had to throw up her hands to keep him away. "No, no, please don't touch me."

His phone rang, he was the only person she knew who actually kept their ringer on. Well the only person under 50, it made her smile. Then cringe, the weird personal knowledge she had because of how much of an almost they were. From his face, Emma knew it was his actual calling.

"Um," he shady buttoned the call. "I have to go."

"Yeah," was all she could respond with, she already knew that. "Well, have a happy nee year Harry. You sticking around?" God she hoped not. May have to convince her mum to go to London if so.

He shook his head, "Um no, we're going to Paris." Ouch. Emma tried for subtle when she wrapped an arm around herself. "Sorry, I'd like," he always looked so genuine lately, in every interview she'd watched to hurt herself, his heart on his sleeve, in his eyes now. "I'd like to hug you, think you could stomach it?"

Emma nodded and went to him for the barest second and then concentrated on the pressure behind her eyes while he kept her close. "I'm so sorry Emma, for everything. I'd really like to be friends," he'd pulled back to hold her eye line at that.

She nodded, she wasn't sure how she'd handle that, but at best it was a couple phone calls, and no weekends away, they hadn't mentioned that in their middle state, she didn't think it would be to hard to keep him at arms length when they had continents between them most times. "Yeah, ok, friends. You take care of yourself, Harry." Emma was a strong girl, woman now, she could handle some texts and a phone call or so.

He kissed her cheek, a continental affectation she closed her eyes over and turned to go. He was almost out of the gate when he turned back. "I'd never take her to the Boar's Head, by the way, that's our place. I'd never take anybody else there." Before she could even think of a response he looked away quick and started to go. "Take care of yourself, Emma. Happy New Year." That came back to her on the wind.

Blew away like the hold she had on the heart she'd given him last Christmas. At least he was someone special.

[koreanmadeingreece]

Why, why, why (4)

University student!Yuta x reader

Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups

Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.

A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). Also, wow I never thought I’d post this. I hope you guys like it. Also I thought I’d update every Sunday but I couldn’t restrain myself. Welp.

Warnings: n/a

Word count: 1.6K (I should let you know that I’ve finished writing it so I’ll update it every 3 or 4 days!)

Part 4/11 (I think) First / Previous / Next

Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash @aiforyuu @fineapplehoe (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

As soon as you told Chan what happened, after the other two left, he was speechless. He immediately offered to come home with you and help you choose what to wear, as he was the one person of those you had met that day that you were sure you reached your house, where you found Taeyong sitting with Yuta at the balcony. You let Chan in and Taeyong came to meet him in the speed of light.

“SO, you’re in her class, right? I’m Taeyong, oh and this is Yuta. We’re two years older. Do you like it here? Did you find a nice place? Oh, and let us know if you need anything…”

“Taeyong, just let the man breathe.” They both laughed at your comment and you went outside to find Yuta.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Great, thanks. You?” he asked, with a smile on his face.

“Awesome, honestly. My first day was amazing and I also met a lot of people, actually. I didn’t expect to be so lucky on my first day, so I’m kinda thrilled,” you said.

“And she’s got a date.”

“Chan, oh my god, it’s not a date!”

“Yet…” he smirked. Taeyong was looking at you in shock, and Yuta wasn’t even blinking for two seconds.

“Well, we went for a coffee with two other guys and the waiter kinda hit on me.”

“You hit on him first.”

“Fine. I hit on him first. The point is that I’ll see him again tomorrow and Chan came for emotional support.”

“Oh my god, my baby’s got a date!” Taeyong shouted in enthusiasm and ran to hug you.

“Did you say a waiter? Where?” Yuta asked.

“At that coffee shop close to our building. His name is Jonghyun. He’s a third-year student, so you might know him.”

“I do,” Yuta answered.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Is he nice? Like, am I going to die if I’m alone with him? Is he a good guy?”

“I think so, yeah,” Yuta replied. “I don’t know him well enough to have more details though.”

“It’s okay. I guess I should be thankful for the fact that you’ll know who to blame when you find me murdered at the bottom of a cliff.” You made everyone laugh. Yuta laughed as well. It was a beautiful sight to watch. You thought of that every time you saw him, but quickly snapped out of it, when Chan started dragging you back inside the house and towards your room.

“So, what’s the deal with you and those guys?” Chan asked, as he was going through your closet.

“Well, Taeyong’s my best friend ever since we were little and now, he’s my roommate, and Yuta is a friend whom he met here. He’s a nice guy.”

“Kinda cold though.”

“Yeah, he is. Taeyong’s other friends told me he’s a sweetheart when he opens up to people though.”

“I sure hope so, because he barely said hello to me earlier.”

“I hope so too…” you mumbled and continued searching with Chan, until he thought he had found the perfect outfit for you to mesmerize your potential date.

A while later he had to go, leaving you alone in your room to sit, when you heard a knock on your door.

“Are you decent?”

“Yeah, come in,” you said, and Taeyong opened the door.

“Will you come sit with us?”

“Taeyong, I wanted to talk to you about this.”

“What? Sitting with us? Did anything happen with anyone?”

“Oh no, not at all. But it’s not necessary that they always want me around. I just moved here and stole their friend away. And I don’t want them to think that.”

“But Johnny would never… And V, no.” He paused. “Is Yuta acting weird?” You didn’t even have time to react and he was already making assumptions. “If he is, I’ll kill him for sure. He has nothing to worry about! Tell me. Has he said anything to you?”

“No, of course not. He was being a bit distant and I asked Johnny about it, is all. But, Taeyong, think about it. You used to be two, and now I’m here. It’s not irrational to feel like this. Now, please go. You’ve left him alone.”

“Fine. Come whenever you want though. I have other friends besides him, and he needs to know that.” Taeyong left your room, obviously irritated. You worried that something would happen with Yuta, but you didn’t hear them raising their voices. You feared that one day it would happen, but you were safe for now. Besides, you had already met enough people to hang out with and not become a load on Taeyong and his friends. You were already becoming independent.

The next day, you wore the outfit you had found with Chan and went to college, where you found him staring at you from afar, admiring the work he’d done.

“Oh my god, red suits you so much.”

“Come on, you’re making me blush,” you said and he laughed.

“Are you ready for five long hours of class and then for your date?”

“Shhh, don’t say that so loudly. Someone might hear it.”

“Someone might hear what?” you heard and turned around, only to find Yuta standing right beside you.

“Nothing. What are you doing here?” you asked in panic.

“What do you mean? I study here.”

“Oh, right.”

Chan didn’t hesitate to interfere, seeing you were in complete panic mode. “Don’t get her wrong, she’s just nervous for this afternoon.”

“Ah, right, the date.” Yuta smiled. “I hope everything goes well with that. But, that’s not why I wanted to talk to you. Can you come with me for a second?”

“Oh no, don’t bother. I’m going to class, alright? I’ll get you a seat next to the others,” Chan said and you thanked him.

Yuta waited a few seconds for Chan to leave before he started talking, which seemed like the longest seconds of your entire life. “So, since you’re new here, and you probably don’t know about this, our department hosts movie nights two times a month for people from different departments to get to know each other. And it’s this Saturday. We’re watching The Zodiac Killer. Would you like to come? I told the others already and they said yes.”

As shocked as you were from Yuta’s suggestion, you thought you wouldn’t dare to lose this opportunity, since it only happened once in a lifetime. “Yes, I’d love to!” you exclaimed, trying and not succeeding to hold back your enthusiasm.

“Okay, I’ll text you the details,” he smiled. “Well, I probably won’t have to, though, as I’ll be seeing you all the time from now on. Anyway, I have to get going. Bye,” he said and left soon after, leaving you speechless and unable to go to class. Yuta, who was colder than an ice cube, had invited you voluntarily. If that wasn’t progress, you didn’t know what could be.

You went at your class, sat next to Chan, who was mocking you for Jonghyun all day, and BamBam, who was practically sleeping on is desk, and that was how the day passed until you actually had to man up and go to the coffee place.

“Chan, please slap me in the face. I can’t go in.”

“No, I can’t slap you. We need you to be pretty for your date.”

“Ah, come on! This is not the way to give some strength to a friend.”

“Neither is slapping you before meeting a hot guy!”

“Fuck, you’re right. Okay, I’m going in.”

“You’ve got this! I believe in you.” He waved goodbye at you and left as you entered the coffee shop around 5:30. You spotted him on the counter, taking an order from an older lady. You hadn’t consciously noticed it, but you spent a few seconds looking at him, admiring his subtle but rather gentle smile that showed off his cheekbones and all the beautiful characteristics of his face.

You soon snapped out of it, as you heard his voice.

“Y/N, you came! Hi! What can I get you?”

You blinked a few times, trying to get it together and actually retain contact with the planet earth, and replied to him. “Oh, hi! Um, a double cappuccino with a lot of sugar please.”

“Sure. You can sit for a while until I finish my shift and then we can go for a tour around the city, since you’re new. I can show you a few places if you’d like and maybe we can sit somewhere…?” he said, smiling. You couldn’t take your eyes off his smile. He was incredibly handsome and seemed like an amazing guy. What could possibly go wrong?

“Yeah, sure! I’d love to,” you replied. Besides, it wasn’t really that hard to watch this guy work while enjoying a perfect cup of coffee.

After a few minutes, you noticed him going at the back of the shop. He returned moments later, wearing his normal clothes and not the shop’s uniform, finding you emerged in your thoughts.

“You look so good in red.”

“Oh my god thanks,” you were already blushing, three seconds into your date. That was when you realized he was wearing a dark gray shirt and black pants that made him twice more handsome than usual. In fact, you wished Chan hadn’t left the city center just to see him like this. You were sure your words would not even be close to how he really looked. “You don’t look bad yourself,” you teased.

He offered you his arm and you followed, watching him show you the basics in the city since you were new there. He knew all the best coffee shops, bars and stores you wouldn’t notice at first glance. After a while, you decided to sit at a place near the park for a beer, since there was the best view. The orange leaves falling off trees were the best setting for your date. Or, at least what was starting to look less than a get-to-know encounter and more like a date.

[consumeconstantly]

Small Buff Girl Sightings ch. 3

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3 

Marinette wonders when she got used to the crushing weight of expectations that had been imposed upon her by the Powers That Be. She also wonders when she got used to being lonely. These are two separate events, she’s fairly sure, but it isn’t like she keeps a diary anymore. She has long since fallen out of that habit, because she doesn’t want another Sabrina incident. With the class the way it is now, she can’t even fathom how much damage her diary could bring to her classmates, and likely, the whole of Paris. Because for some reason, Hawkmoth has some sort of a vendetta against her class.

Which is the whole reason why she didn’t transfer out of Mademoiselle Bustier’s class in the first place. Sure, she tried for the first few months to expose Lila and get things back to the status quo, but Marinette can only try and fail so many times before getting tired of her classmate’s willful ignorance. Then, she stayed in class for Adrien. Such a sweet, misguided boy. Marinette wonders how he would have turned out if his father was less of an asshole, or if his mother were still around. No use crying over spilled milk; she still feels bad for him, but she’s no longer staying in class for him. Her crush on Adrien is a thing of the past. 

As it is currently, Mlle. Bustier’s class simply provides the most excellent cover for all of her escapades and an excellent vantage point to see what the next akuma might be. 

After all, their class encompasses both the people who are most often akumatized-- minus Monsieur Ramier and Augustine-- and the people who are most likely to cause somebody’s akumatization. These are the usual suspects:

Chloe, who has admittedly improved her attitude after reconciling with her mother, but still doesn’t know how to deal with people like an ordinary person would. 

Lila, whose lies and half truths have ended more than one person’s dreams (as well as her own penchant to get akumatized willingly, but that hasn’t happened often after the first year, and Marinette doesn’t really want to go into that).

Adrien, who never intends to get anybody akumatized, but ends up doing so when the media catches him doing anything. Because everything he does gets covered by the media heavily. So when he goes out with friends and is mistaken for having a lover, there are a lot of angry fangirls who get akumatized.

Oh, and then there’s Marinette herself. She’s honestly not sure how or why so many people around her end up getting akumatized-- maybe she takes other people’s luck in exchange for having an abundance of her own-- but there’s certainly quite a number.

And if she’s talking about family relations, this class takes the cake too. Adrien’s father lashes out at his employees so often that Marinette is surprised that all his workers haven’t quit yet. Gabriel’s attitude has also convinced Marinette that she never wants to work at the man’s self-named brand. Mayor Bourgois and Audrey Bourgeois are both… frightening in their own ways. Both can end careers easily, but Audrey definitely goes about ending careers in a more harmful way. Juleka’s mom pisses off anybody who tries to come down the Seine; numerous akumas have appeared in response to her loud music blasting at all times of the day. And Ivan’s parents? Sweethearts, but both are so sensitive that their family is a prime target for Hawkmoth. 

She wonders when the new boy, Damian, will get akumatized. She doesn’t think-- hopes-- that he won’t, but with the track rate of their classmates, it was highly unlikely that he wouldn’t. So far, Marinette and Adrien have been the only ones in the class who haven’t been, including the series of brief transfers to their classes last year. Maybe he’ll be another to add to their number. And Marinette and Adrien both moonlight as superheroes. There’s probably some Miraculous magic involved, but Marinette’s not entirely sure. Master Fu doesn’t have answers for many of the questions that Marinette asks.

Damian seems like a decent person with a good head on his shoulders. Marinette hopes that he transfers away from this class soon, because she would feel awful if he does end up getting caught up with her classmate’s delusional version of reality. Because even though Lila has calmed down a lot and no longer tells such outlandish tales as she did in her first year at Francois Dupont, everyone else still follows her so mindlessly that it isn’t a healthy relationship for anyone involved. Marinette is almost certain that there are multiple people in the class that must know Lila was lying but now perpetuate this twisted version of reality because they’re afraid. Ninth and tenth year were important; if Lila really did lie about all of her connections, that means they messed their own futures up and need to work on themselves to fix it--something that is difficult to admit and commit to matter what age a person is. To admit that they did something wrong and take steps to fix it-- Marinette doesn’t think any of her classmates have that kind of mindset. After all, if anyone else had guts, there’s no way that Chloe would have been class president for as long as she was.

 Lunch comes around quickly, and Damian manages to catch her on her way out, grabbing and holding her forearm. Marinette is cautious, making sure that none of Lila’s lackeys are around. Despite her agreement with Lila, her classmates tend to make everything a much bigger deal than it should be, and they always tell Lila whenever Marinette steps so much as a foot out of line. Lila doesn’t always act on her classmates' words, but when there are too many voices that say that Marinette is doing something wrong, Lila has to act; if she doesn’t, she’s at risk of losing her position of power. Once Marinette is sure there is no one from Mlle. Bustier’s class watching, she pulls Damian with her to an alleyway a short ways away from her family’s bakery.

“I’m telling you again. You really don’t want to be seen with me.” 

“If you think I care about Lila, you’re mistaken. I will be seen with who I want to be seen with.” 

Marinette’s hand is warm and calloused. Her fingertips are extra soft, like she takes care to moisturize them more than the rest of her hand. 

The alleyway is surprisingly nice. Much nicer than any alleyway that Damian would find in Gotham, that’s for certain. It doesn’t have any blood stains and there are no crazy psychos hiding in the shadows. Instead, sunlight is let through the shorter of the two buildings, only five stories. Sure, the place smells slightly of urine and trash and there’s broken bottles everywhere, but that is par for the course for any major city.

Marinette’s not sure why Damian seems to be going out of his way to talk to her. She’s seen him interact with the other students, and he was positively stoic with them. His words are still clipped when he’s talking to her, but at least he speaks full sentences.

“It’ll be bad for your social health if you keep trying to talk to me.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t believe I ever asked for you to look after my social health, and I certainly don’t want  to talk to the idiots in that class.”

“I don’t think you understand, Damian. You might not mind being alone, but being lonely is different. It feels bad, and Hawkmoth will take advantage of you.” Marinette knows what being lonely is like, because despite her loving parents and all of her friends that she’s made outside of school in the past two years, before that, her world was limited. Sometimes, she wishes that some magical being came with Miraculous. Someone that she can actually talk to about all of her problems, both hero-related and those in her everyday life. As it is, Marinette never talks about what she does as Ladybug, unless she’s referring to herself in the third person and is forced to. Marinette doesn’t need people trying to figure out she is Ladybug, and despite Master Fu’s assurances that people without a Miraculous will never, ever catch on, she prefers to err on the side of caution. And as Ladybug, she only ever talks to Chat Noir, never deigning to talk about her personal life because it will be way too easy for Adrien to make the jump between her everyday problems and Marinette, because Adrien is a Miraculous user, and the Identity Concealment magic supposedly is less effective between Miraculous users. 

“I don’t believe we’ve interacted enough for you to judge my mental fortitude. Besides, you might have told me to avoid you, but I never agreed.” 

The former part of Damian’s statement isn’t true, but Damian doesn’t know that. As a superhero, Marinette needs to know how to judge people quickly and effectively. She’s read plenty of books on psychology and body language, clocked endless hours of videos on the subject. There’s also the matter of her bountiful personal experience, what with figuring out the issues of the ever increasing number of akumas that pop up around the city. Still, it isn’t like Marinette can actively refute his statement. 

For a while, the two of them stand in contemplative silence. 

“Fine, then, I’ll tell you why you need to avoid me. We might as well get out of this alleyway, though.” Marinette eyes the dumpster that stands a few meters away from them.

“And here I thought you were fond of alleyways,” Damian says, in reference to the first time they met.

She laughs, and it feels good. Marinette hasn't laughed in quite some time. Lately, her parents are always busy. They want to expand their patissiere by opening a second branch. That means they don’t have much family time, and when they do, it’s typically spent talking shop. Manon has continued in her bratty toddler stage, and the rest of the kids that she babysits are in a similar state. Uncle Jagged and Aunt Penny are still touring, bringing Luka around for the ride, Kagami’s currently in intensive training for the World Cup, and she simply hasn’t had enough time to see any of her other friends.

“I’d like to think that I'm more fond of my parents' macarons, than I am of alleyways.” Marinette leads him through the other end of the alleyway and through a few streets to get to the back entrance that leads directly to their house instead of the bakery. At least since Maman and Papa are so busy with business, she never needs to talk about her friends in school, or lack thereof.

#

“Let me get this straight,” Damian says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You had four transfers last year and each of them ended up as akumas multiple times because of her lies, students who don’t believe her get expelled, suspended, or bullied, and the teacher and school refuse to do anything about it?”

“Well, Principal Damocles refuses to do anything; Mlle. Bustier believes her.” Marinette sips the cup of hot cocoa she prepared and lounges on her chaise. She doesn’t bother saying that all the transfers occurred in a six month period, after which Lila let up on her tyranny and turned into an average albeit still incredibly charismatic teen. Neither does she bother mentioning that Lila doesn’t lie anymore-- at least, not any big ones-- and has stopped getting herself willingly akumatized. She’s trying to get Damian to transfer out, after all. 

“That’s even worse. They’re useless.”

“It depends on your point of view. They’re very useful if you’re Lila or the rest of the class.”

Damian swivels the chair so he’s facing Marinette in her entirety. “How have you managed three years with that orange demon? Better question, why have you not transferred?”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” It’s not like Marinette can tell him the real reason why she’s staying in the class. That’s why she hasn’t told her parents about all of this. If they knew, they would definitely make her transfer classes, if not schools.

“That is no good reason for me to continue to stay with her group. I hate lying manipulators.” Damian’s mother is a good example.

“You might hate them, but if you can’t beat them and you can’t leave, you have to join them, or at least make a truce. And there’s no way Lila is going to give you up.”

“I really should just transfer.”

“I agree whole-heartedly. Please do.”

“But I can’t. My father won’t arrange a transfer for me. He wants me in that class.” More accurately-- Damian knows how many akumas came out of that class, and there is no way that he’s going to transfer away from it. It’s easier to figure out a game plan if he’s able to watch the action.

“I could arrange a transfer for you, if you want.”

“No, that’s too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, and if it helps one person by preventing them from getting akumatized, that’s great.”

“Why can’t you just expose her?” Damian counters.

“Tried that two years ago. Failed. Miserably. I almost got expelled.” She tactfully leaves out the fact that Lila also got her back in school. After years of making up excuses for where she’s been when an akuma attack calls her away, she’s gotten very skillful at lies by omission. Besides, if they’re to help someone, that’s okay, right? 

“If you can’t expose her then how are you going to get me transferred out?”

“Those are two separate issues. I might not be able to persuade a classroom that’s very interdependent on their relations with each other, but I was class president for two years, so I know people.” 

Damian decides to revise his tactics. “I don’t back down from a challenge. Besides, I want to see her empire crumble.”

The last part isn’t true. He cares little for the Italian girl, even less for their other classmates. People like Lila are alarmingly common when you run in the circles of the rich and powerful, and there are certainly people whose charisma is infinitely more dangerous. Lex Luthor, for instance. He shakes off thoughts of the dangerous business man. Damian needs to stay in this class because it’s the best lead that he’s got right now. He’s trying to be as covert as possible, under League request. Apparently, the Justice League of America isn’t supposed to interfere with what’s going on in Europe unless they call in for help. Damian thinks that’s a stupid rule-- in the end, they’re all just trying to protect the world-- but he agreed to secrecy and keeping his head down when accepting the mission. That means he’s not suddenly going to start asking his classmates about akumas unless they’re brought up in conversation. Unnecessary suspicion is a bad thing in this instance.

He takes another bite of the pastry that Marinette brought up for him. It’s much better than a lot of the other vegan options he’s found in Paris-- not that there are many to begin with. Everything in this damn city is made with butter or cheese. There is a lull in the conversation, and then, “She has no reason to hold on to me. I’ll just stay with you, in the back of the class.”

Marinette laughs at this.

“Lila isn’t going to let you go.”

“What do you mean by that? She let you go.” Damian almost feels like he should be affronted at some of the statements that Marinette has made. He feels like she doesn’t appreciate or know how capable he is. It feels weird to have somebody not hold him to the impossibly high pedestal of a genius billionaire’s son. Now that he’s with Marinette, he’s glad that the Justice League sent him under a different last name. He can only imagine the chaos that it would have caused when he arrived.

Marinette rolls her eyes. “She didn’t willingly let me go. She only did because I was constantly undermining her, though unsuccessfully. And besides, there’s a very big difference between the two of us.”

“I’m very capable at undermining people.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Marinette snorts. Damian Grayson is quite the character. They’ve met in the oddest of situations each time. At first, she thought he might be a stalker, but after getting to know Damian a little better, Marinette believes that it’s coincidence-- there’s no way that someone with as much pride as Damian would go out of his way to follow a mere girl. If he wanted to go out with someone, he’d simply demand it. “But the key difference is our gender. Lila Rossi may be bisexual, but her desired gender of arm candy is male. I’m sure you’ve seen her with Adrien. The blonde one?”

At Damian's nod, Marinette continues. “Don’t get your ego even more inflated, but you are good looking. You’re Lila’s type. Tall, muscular, green eyed. You’re the perfect balance to Adrien’s sunshine demeanor. Besides, she can’t have a girl with self-confidence within her circle,  so there was no way that we could have peacefully coexisted in the same group to begin with.”

Marinette’s comment about his appearance makes him feel an unexpected shock of pleasure. He knows he’s good looking. All of the Wayne kids are. He’s gotten enough compliments on his appearance to last him ten lifetimes. But knowing that Marinette finds him attractive feels different. She doesn't seem to be the type to exaggerate, and has a good objective eye for beauty.

“Yes, she already has Adrien. She doesn’t need me as well.”

“Greed never stops.” Marinette finishes her cup of hot cocoa and now stares at her ceiling, then at the wall opposite her, covered in fabric and design sketches. It seems like it was only yesterday when the walls of her bedroom were filled with the countless modelling endeavors of one Adrien Agreste. Now, there are very few pictures of him at all. She wishes that she got to hang out with him more, civilian to civilian. 

When she figured out that Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir were the same, it was a day for the record books. She had so much emotional whiplash that day that it still gives her nausea just thinking about it. Marinette figures that it is a good thing she found out when she did, otherwise she might have continued with her crush on him and would have ended up pointlessly heartbroken. She still loves him, just not the way lovers do. Marinette also suspects that Adrien himself is not looking for a relationship of any sort besides friendship. He’s been more tense in recent months, and Chat Noir confessed that people touching him made him uncomfortable.

Marinette wants nothing more but to rip Adrien from Asshole Gabriel’s hands. But she can’t, because Marinette doesn’t have the trust of Adrien Agreste. Not in the capacity that she needs him to. Not in the capacity that will allow her to unseat Gabriel as she so desperately wishes to. If Ladybug entrusted Marinette to help Adrien out, there is no doubt that Adrien would figure out her alter ego, and that is dangerous knowledge. Especially since he is so tense with everything else going on in his life. It’s a recipe for a powerful akuma and the horrifying possibility of Hawkmoth learning her civilian identity. Ever since retiring the other heroes, Marinette knows that she can’t afford to have Chat Noir or Adrien akumatized. She’s certain that she can beat him in either form, but on the off chance that Hawkmoth decides on a mass akumatization, she can’t beat them all. She’s just not strong enough, no matter how many hours she trains and no matter how many times she takes down baddies in her civilian form.

“So what, I should just let her put her hands all over me?”

That… admittedly sounds unpleasant. Marinette isn’t sure what Adrien and Lila have going on, but Marinette knows that they’re not actually in a relationship. She’s fairly sure that Adrien and Lila have stuck some sort of deal on their own, but she’s not close enough to ask Adrien, and she’s definitely not going to ask Lila. Still, when Marinette addressed her concerns with Lila’s touchy tendencies, Adrien gave her a weak smile and said that that was just part of Lila’s nature. He implied that he dealt with worse, which made Marinette worried to hell and back, but ultimately Adrien convinced Marinette that touching him was not done with ill intent by Lila and that her touch warded off other people’s interest. He promised that he was fine, and that he would tell Marinette if he was really uncomfortable. So Marinette let sleeping dogs lie, because despite her initial animosity towards Lila, she was good at manipulating attention away from Adrien whenever he was having a particularly bad day.

“I told you, I can get you transferred out.” 

“And I told you that I never back down from a challenge.”

“Then it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“I suppose we are.” 

Marinette’s phone alarm goes off, and she jumps from her chaise. “We’ve got to get back to school. Class starts in five. You go first, I’ll clean up.”

“I am not a rude houseguest.”

“Well, I don’t want to be seen with you in school, so leave.” Marinette’s sudden burst of rudeness is unlike her, but she chalks it down to her deep-rooted desire for Damian not to end up like the four transfers last year. She keeps in contact with some of them still, and not all of them are doing all too well. Marinette really doesn’t want Damian to end up like that.

Damian’s mouth sets itself into a thin line. “Fine then, have it your way. Give me your phone number.”

A shrug. “If that’s what it’ll take for you to leave me alone during school.”

And then, Damian is off.

#

4:50PM | Unknown number: I’m testifying next Thursday.

4:55PM | Marinette: Damian?

Damian: Yes.

Marinette: oh

Marinette: me too

Marinette: i’m going to visit renee tomorrow

4:58PM | Damian: I’ll come with you. I’ll meet you at your parent’s bakery after school.

6:42PM | Marinette: uh

Marinette: how about that alleyway instead

Damian: If I must.

#

Marinette doesn’t really know what to make of Damian. The first time she meets him, she almost thinks he is another stalker. Almost, but not quite; he looks far too reluctant to be following her and looks too unfamiliar with the streets that they were going down to have done this before. Still, she doesn’t want to take any chances, so she makes quick work of her first stalker and immediately gets on the phone with the police, leaving her stalker in the alley despite her normal protocol to stay with the criminal until the police get there. She makes an exception for this, because even from a distance, the second person following her looks much more dangerous than the first, and she doesn’t want to fight with someone who’s bigger than her in a place that’s hard to run away in. 

When he appears near the alleyway he seems annoyed, then relieved and surprised when he sees the body in the alleyway. Like it was something he didn’t want to deal with.

When she brushes past him, there isn’t a hint of recognition in his eyes. Nothing except for surprise, and maybe a little bit of admiration. A raised eyebrow, saying, really? This short little girl just beat a man twice her size up? 

She ends up in violent altercations as a civilian on an almost regular basis. According to one of her stalkers, she was just so friendly. Clearly she wanted to go out with him. It’s her fault for coming onto him. When she isn’t fending off creepy men whose profiles were nearly all the same-- five to ten years older than her, with some sort of fetish for asian women (she shudders at the thought of being called exotic)-- she does her duty as a plain-clothes hero. Because her conscience will never let her get away with walking away from an instance that might end up harming someone else. Marinette feels an overwhelming sense of responsibility. She won’t forgive herself for not protecting the weak. 

#

The next time she meets him, she’s surprised that he actually approaches her and asks if she needs help. He clearly doesn’t actually want her to take him up on the offer, so she immediately turns him down. Marinette isn’t sure why he feels so compelled to offer his help when he clearly didn’t want to but-- oh merde. The class is going to leave her behind again if she doesn’t run and try to catch the bus now. She can take the metro, but she is short on the amount she needs to get all the way home. Marinette is also unwilling to turn into Ladybug, because Ladybug only ever shows up on night patrols and when there’s an akuma, and she doesn’t want to send Parisians into a mass panic.

Despite his obvious unwillingness, she reneges on her words and asks him to watch over the thief. He seems more at ease with it than she expected. Maybe he really had meant his offer. Weird. She is usually pretty good at reading people. Why can’t she get a good read on this guy?

His posture, too, is more at ease than she would expect of any civilian. Usually, if she ever asks somebody to watch over somebody she’s detained, they’re nervous and a little jumpy. Their hands are glued to their phone, ready to make a call if the slightest thing goes wrong. But this guy is relaxed and confident. Just the way he’s standing screams of years of training, in fighting and possibly in etiquette. Maybe he comes from some high class family.

She doesn’t have time to contemplate why and where and how. She just leaves him.

#

Then he comes in like a ghost, when she’s helping poor Nicolette. Somehow, Marinette knows this voice, this step pattern. She only needs a single glance up to confirm her beliefs. It’s the guy she keeps seeing around town. 

Despite her initial impression that he wasn’t dangerous, she still takes the proper measures to protect herself, just in case. She can never be too sure in situations like these, and although he has been nothing but helpful, she doesn’t particularly want to be on the receiving end of one of his punches. He looks like an athlete. Long, lean muscle. Dangerous too, if his eyes are anything to go by.

They’re dark green and calculating. He’s gone through Things. Marinette can almost guarantee that the guy has encountered at least a few life-threatening situations. 

She wonders how it is that he only ever seems to appear once she’s done with whatever issue she’s dealing with. Is he stalking her to see the extent of her abilities? Is he trying to make her let her guard down? Something about him makes Marinette anxious. He looks like he wants to tear her apart to see her inner workings. To figure her out. He makes Marinette feel like he’s always on the verge of finding out her biggest secret, and she hates it. 

Still, he makes for a pretty reliable cleanup partner. She doesn’t think that she would trust a regular civilian to keep watch over any person she thought was dangerous. Fraser is just a little too dangerous for Marinette to consider leaving alone in the street. She certainly would not have passed his care to any regular stranger. 

But Nicolette is clearly in need of comfort, and Damian looks like he can take care of himself and any trouble that comes his way. Which makes Marinette even more wary of him. Would she be able to beat him in her civilian form? She is certain that she could if he is just some common street thug-- she’s taken down people bigger than him-- but she gets the foreboding feelings that he is more than that.

#

It’s almost comforting to see Damian’s reaction to Ladybug and the akuma. He looks equal parts confused and awe struck. There is a touch of cynicism in there, for sure, a little bit of disbelief, but somehow, it lets Marinette breathe a temporary sigh of relief. 

He doesn’t know what is going on in Paris. He doesn’t know her-- either side of her. And it is going to stay that way. 

#

Of course it doesn’t stay that way. Marinette uses up all of her luck during her time as Ladybug, so the person who is currently at the top of her Avoid list shows up to her school as the American transfer. Of course he decides to sit next to her. She bemoans the loss of her blessedly empty desk. Damian is taller and larger than most boys their age, but he sits far enough away from her. 

That’s a good sign. He’s not going out of his way to touch her or make contact with her. Maybe this whole thing is just a coincidence. Please, let this whole thing be just a coincidence

Then he starts talking to her, and of course he notices the whole thing with Lila, how can he not? She didn’t make a wrong judgement on his level of perceptiveness. Great. That is one thing she would have gladly lost a bet on. Now, she has to deal with possible ramifications of Damian, six foot Adonis, not wanting to get along with Lila. Lila will not like this. Marinette knows exactly what she wants in her little circle: attractive boys and girls that are less pretty or less confident than her. People who are easily controlled by promises and tall tales. And although Damian only fits one of those categories, he will undoubtedly be on her shopping list. 

After their awful first year together, Lila proposed a truce of sorts. They could either try being friends or they could stay out of each other’s ways. Lila wouldn’t actively bully Marinette, and Marinette wouldn’t actively try to expose her. 

She can feel Lila’s eyes on her. Green. It seems like everybody and anybody who brought her trouble nowadays had green eyes. Tonight, she’ll throw out all the green items that she owns. Marinette doesn’t need any more bad luck around her.

#

 They return from lunch, and Marinette prays to every God whose name she knows that he is no longer sitting in the back seat. That Lila successfully swept him up. 

Of course she hasn’t. Damian’s too smart for his own damn good. Which means that she needs to start preparing for the consequences of the inevitable fallout. She really doesn’t want Damian to turn into an akuma. She’s pretty good at telling which people will be more powerful (devastating? devastating.) in their akumatized forms than others, and she’s pretty sure that Damian would round out her top five, alongside Adrien, her Maman, her cousin, Bridgette, and herself. People who have more control over themselves are that much scarier when they fall apart. 

#

This time, Damian shows up before things are completely settled, and she’s thankful for it. 

If she wants to build a case against this woman, she does not need accusations of her own violence levelled against her. Thus, Marinette had been almost entirely ready and willing to feel the woman’s slap, maybe even her nails cutting through her skin. None of that matters, though. Not in comparison to Renee’s future.

In Renee, Marinette can see a lot of Adrien. He is blonde, is soft spoken from what little she’s seen of him, and lives firmly under a rich and manipulative parent’s thumb. Even though he’s scared of getting hit by his mom, Marinette can feel, instinctively, that if she hits the woman back, not only will she be in trouble with the case, she will also have scared Renee. 

Damian steps in at exactly the right time, and leaves her free to call the police. 

Though he’s quiet throughout the ride to the station, she does see him look at the little boy in concern. Other than that, he seems curious. A little child-like, even. His eyes are darting around the inside of the cruiser. It’s almost comical. Maybe he’s scared of being in the back of the police car, but she can’t find it in her to bring out a laugh. Not when Renee is on her lap. Not when she can feel his tears through her shirt and his soft little hiccups. Marinette hates that woman. Hates her so much. Hates Gabriel, too.

Marinette is focusing more on Renee and the woman more than Damian, but when she does spare him a glance, he seems unsure. Discomfited. Maybe he wants to reassure Renee that it will be alright. 

She has been preparing for a situation in which she can take Gabriel to court for almost an entire year now. Despite this, Marinette still pulls out her phone and checks a few websites to make sure that all of the information she has is correct.  Damian pulls out his phone too, though he’s just fiddling with it so his hands have something to do. 

By the time Marinette breaks past the woman’s painfully bad facade of being a good parent, Marinette feels her blood boiling. She knows that she is not immune to being akumatized, and is very glad that it’s highly unlikely Hawkmoth sends out another akuma today. 

It hurt a little when she first discovered that she could be akumatized. She was thirteen, Ladybug, and invincible. Then, she was thirteen, Marinette, and scared. Despite the situation at the time, Marinette could never bring herself to fully hate Lila. In part, because she believed--and still believes-- that Adrien is at least partially right. She sees it, periodically. How lonely Lila is behind her lies and friendships. Marinette doesn’t know what the girl is missing, and she doesn’t particularly care to know, but Lila is young and immature and has time to shift her course. And after their truce, Lila backed down a lot. Her lies are soft, now. Quiet. Most times nonexistent. She doesn’t need to do much to manipulate the class into loving her because she laid down all the groundwork during that first, horrible year.

But Marinette feels entitled to be angry at these parents who treat their children like they are nothing more than tools. Like they are subhuman. Maybe some parents can’t love their children-- she understands that to some extent-- and maybe they can’t be with them all the time. However, if love isn’t possible, they should still treat their child with the basic courtesy of human decency. And there is a point where neglect turns into abuse. Marinette knows that-- sees that with Adrien and Gabriel-- all too well. 

Marinette is glad that all of her previous encounters with criminals taught her to record from the moment she interferes. She is glad that she sprung for a phone with extra amounts of storage. Her palms are hot and trembly, but her head is cold. She feels a twisted sense of accomplishment wrenched from her gut as she watches Renee’s mother flee from the room. 

It is in this cold daze that she finds herself outside with Damian. Alone together, again. And he asks her about Lila, and she doesn’t want to deal with whatever dangers Damian brings with him. She’s had to fight off an akuma, deal with an absolute horror of a woman, and when she goes home, she will have to finish a commission and study for a test tomorrow. Damian is an unnecessary complication. 

Somehow, her life has become a never ending cycle. At least she will sleep better at night knowing that Renee is in better hands.