#and we had three cats suddenly and they were much more interested in going outside

[hyperfixation-tangentopia]

Turns out if you get chased in your dreams enough you can get good at not dying before you reach help

[eolewyn1010]

#OCkiss24 - day 6

Today's entry to @ockissweek - we have a day's prompt of "reach", and I have two OCs here and a little writing. Don't think too hard about the setting; it's something-something vaguely low fantasy.

[some over 1200 words]

With a sigh, Daniechin dropped his head on the railing of his balcony. He was not getting anywhere with that. He had no evidence that held up against the baroness – her talking to a stranger during a ball was absolutely nothing; she was expected to socialize.

Daniechin frowned. Was she, though? Why was she already back on festivities with her husband dead for all of two weeks? Racking his brain, he pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the railing. She had been in a black dress during the ball, that much was true. A bejeweled, elegant gown with no sleeves and no back to speak of. Fair enough, she didn’t exactly put an effort into looking like a woman in mourning.

But that would hardly convince anyone that she’d put a hit on her husband. The baron was old and decrepit; he wouldn’t have lived for much longer anyway. All she’d had to do was wait. If it wasn’t in her particular interest for the baron to die now, it had to be in her mysterious friend’s…

A clang echoed, the balcony was shook momentarily, and Daniechin smiled sourly to himself at the presence of the figure next to him. He always came in over the balcony; Daniechin had never really gotten to the point of that. Perhaps he thought he appeared more trustworthy when he picked the balcony door’s lock instead of the front door’s?

“It would be by far the easiest to just get you before a judge so you could confess she paid you for the murder,” he said before he raised his head.

Amarzir leaned next to him, raising an eyebrow. “Sure, that oughta convince them, the word of the best assassin in the land,” he drawled. Then his gaze caught Daniechin’s, and suddenly he smirked his kobold smile. “But please, darling, do go ahead and put me in chains.” He held his wrists out to Daniechin, winking provokingly.

Daniechin rolled his eyes. It was impossible to get Ama to be serious for longer than a minute. But no, of course he wouldn’t arrest him here. Their truce was clearly defined; it began and ended at the perimeter of either of their apartments, and the balcony was still a part of his place.

Momentarily, Daniechin fought the urge to just toss that pain in his neck down into the street. It was not like he’d get hurt; Ama always had a safe landing – he was like a cat that way. But it would put him outside their truce and open the race again, and Daniechin would be busy for the night and could feel like the good Captain of the Guard he was, out there, chasing a criminal…and not going to bed with him.

When he didn’t say anything, Amarzir nudged him with the elbow. “She had a visitor today, by the way. I’m reasonably sure it was the guy she had that little conversation with back at the ball.”

Daniechin’s head snapped up. “What do you mean, reasonably sure?”

His sharp tone had Ama roll his eyes at him. No matter how long they played this game between hostility and concession, no matter how Amarzir flirted and teased and even cooperated, he insisted he was no Daniechin’s spy.

“I mean I wasn’t there myself. One of the guild mentioned it; they were around the place to steal some of the deliveries to the mansion’s kitchen.”

Daniechin grimaced. One should think he just got used to the casual mentions of illegal activities, after all that time with Amarzir, and yet…

“Anyway, so they described the visitor, smooth black hair, not very tall, cleanly shaved, and a fancy coat in black and silver that had their fingers itching. I’d say that was him. And here’s the thing: He came there in one of those Southern-style carriages. With the three-wheel construction – you know those, Dani?”

From the South. Neither of them had heard the man talk loudly enough on the ball to determine that he had an accent, but if he really was a Southerner- “They don’t have nobility down in the South; they elect their municipal government. If he’s from there, he can’t be a lord. What then, a rich merchant? Isn’t the baroness too snobby to associate with tradesmen?”

Amarzir set his chin on his crossed arms, leaning onto the railing the same way as Daniechin did. “Not necessarily. She married up the ladder; I’m pretty sure she was barely nobility to speak of before the union. She brought most of the money, the baron his title. Wouldn’t be shocked if she came from business herself.”

Silence fell between them, and Amarzir closed his eyes as if he wanted to nap away right there. All the way back when their little…meetings hadn’t been routine yet, Ama had said to him that he rarely slept anywhere else than his hideout, and only out of necessity, but over time he seemed to have gotten quite comfortable here. Daniechin wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Was he comfortable having a paid killer around? He knew what Amarzir was capable of. It was the whole reason for their hunt going on outside these walls.

“What was she like?” he asked abruptly to change track of his thoughts.

Ama’s eyes fluttered open. “What?”

“The baroness, the evening she gave you the contract. I can’t get to the reason why she would be happy to have her husband killed now instead of playing it safe and outliving him. Even if her business partner uttered the wish for it, what would give her the incentive to go through with it? Was the baron cruel to her?”

Amarzir tapped his fingers on the railing. “The baroness was very secure of herself,” he said hesitantly. “Cold. Smug even. You see, Dani, I’ve been assigned to abusive spouses and lovers before. And the people who pay me to take them out, they are either breaking to pieces already or seething with anger, just on the edge of doing the job themselves. She wasn’t desperate to get rid of him. Not the way…” He trailed off, turning his head ever so slightly away from Daniechin and the light of the street’s lampposts.

It was one of those things they just didn’t talk about. Amarzir maintained that, while he did kill for money, there were people he killed who deserved it. Without whom the world was a better place. Perhaps he was even right. But Daniechin had a law to protect and would always put that up between them.

And yet…Ama looked forlorn as he stood there, looked smaller than usual, looked cold. And for all the words they could make to deny it, they were allies. They would share a bed later on and perhaps even a meal. For all mistrust and all the fights down in the street, up here Ama was his lover and one of very few constants in his life.

So Daniechin reached out and pulled him close, Amarzir’s back against his chest, and while the sudden embrace got a surprised noise in return, it didn’t seem unwelcome.

After a moment, Amarzir wrapped his arms over Daniechin’s, and there was the content little sigh as Daniechin pressed his lips to the nape of Ama’s neck.

“I’m going to need you for this,” he muttered.

Amarzir nodded. “I figured as much.” It was his usual snark, but his voice sounded a little softer.

[kyetalksshit]

Omg I came on here to post a cute lil blurb about how much I love my friends and was reminded that I'm SUPPOSED to be keeping a dream journal more or less hahaha oops

Anyways last night's dream was... a trip and a half tbh so let's recap it while I still remember (even tho it's almost 1am and I should be asleep but here we are)

There was definitely a smaller dream that i completely did not remember even when I first woke up, let alone now. But the last dream...

SO. I get home from work or wherever and I come back downstairs with my dog so she can go potty outside. I notice that there are a lot of people running in and out moving my roommate's stuff out of the house. I'm like omg thank the gods maybe he's moving out and I'll have the place to myself for a little while!!!

I ask someone in passing (I think it was his family or friends) "hey is he moving out?" And they're like "huh?? No, he's not leaving." I'm like 🤨

Then once the living room is cleared out, they bring in this HUUUUUUGE couch like one that has no business being that big. And I overhear someone (or maybe I just knew somehow? Idr) saying that he can afford to upgrade now that he's got this extra money (ie me paying rent). I then see a little dog that looks a lot like his dog that passed a few years ago irl but with a bit of husky? I'm like ?? Weird that he didn't tell me he got a dog but I've got pets here so ig it's not that big of a deal. I pet the dog and say hi.

...then I meet ANOTHER dog, this time a big St. Bernard/GSD mix named Tuck (who I know irl because of my job but in this dream he was now also my roommate's dog). I'm like?????? Wtf man

AND THEN I MEET A THIRD DOG. This one is a small doodle of some kind with wiry hair and smells awful and in dreamland I had a memory of this dog being at the house one other time overnight and I was complaining because it was very yappy. So knowing that not only were there suddenly THREE NEW DOGS in the house without my knowledge, but that at least one of them was gonna be yappy and irritating???????? 🙄😭

I'm irritated but letting my dog play outside and I guess my sister or friends or something are there too because I'm chatting with them about how annoyed I am and I drop my phone, only to pick it up and be DEVASTATED because the screen is SHATTERED literally shattered like to the point that touching it is making my finger bleed. I tape it and then my friend/sister is like wait a minute he has more pets??

I'm like IM SORRY WHAT and she points and says there's a bunny there and one, two, three cats. So that means he has 7 animals??????

Idr how but somehow I find out that he's had the bunny and 3 cats this whole time but made a point to hide them from me. Which is bad enough but three dogs ON TOP OF THAT???? Sets me off.

So I start bringing my dog inside (and now all his friends/family are gone and so are my friends and my cats somehow got out of my room so now I have to wrangle them too) and I see him laying on the couch under a single throw blanket, snoring. And I'm so mad. Because irl he keeps sleeping on the couch EVEN THO HES LIKE 50 and I hate it, so ofc I also hate it in the dream.

I start mumbling to myself about how irritating that is and then start directing that energy at him and getting louder, and he wakes up. I continue yelling at him louder and louder about how he is a grown ass man with a bedroom and a mattress upstairs and it's so frustrating to have to tiptoe past him all the time, and then I bring up how he has people over every single night (which irl he was, though recently it's been more sparse, which is v interesting that it lined up in the dream) and then say I mean you've been getting a LITTLE better on that but-- (about to transition into how LOUD he is on his own)

And he interrupts me by yelling "yeah that fell through, so THANKS FOR THAT!" (Like implying I did magic to force them out)

I go "I DIDNT DO ANYTHING?????? BUT IM GLAD THEYRE GONE"

And this red knotted string on the wall (like those Chinese good luck pendants) that in this moment i understand to be one of his wards, falls off the wall and onto his head. Like as if by saying "I'm glad they're gone" I hit one of his wards and it broke right in front of us and bonked him on his head (giving him nasty repercussions).

He turns to me so angry and curses at me in what my dream self interpreted as Arabic (his native language), like he was cursing me out but also trying to fling evil eye at me. I spit it back at him to deflect that energy, scoop up my pets, and storm upstairs to my room. And as I do I yell down "GROW THE FUCK UP." And then I slam the door behind myself, leaving him speechless below.

I remember collapsing on my bed with my pets and then going ok yeah no I need to move, I cannot stay here and live like this. And then of course I have a panic when I realize that my (shattered 😭) phone is still outside where I had it last and I do NOT want to pass him to go get it.

And then I wake up.

[afracturedstory]

It’s been a long time since I visited these halls. I felt something deep inside me, calling out, to come back and write down my story. I’ve never been one for words, I’m a reader, not a writer - but I need to get some things out of my head and into the world. These feelings just won’t go away and I’m hoping that this will somehow fix something in me. I keep having these weird breakdowns. I don’t know what I’m doing, where I’m going. I have student debt and nothing to show for it. No career, no connections, no practical skills, no want, no desire, no motivation, no job, no money, no life. 

I don’t remember much of my childhood. I think my brain found one coping mechanism - repression - and it stuck with it. I remember bits and pieces when I hear other people mention certain things. They’ll talk about a time they walked to school, and I’ll remember the time I tried to do the same, at 5 years old, and my father rolled up beside me in the car, the most panicked I have ever seen on his somber face. He simply said “get in” and I did. I was so terribly confused. I was just walking to school. My older brother was allowed to walk to school alone and I wanted to as well. I knew the way, so I just put on my backpack, my shoes, and started walking to school. When we arrived back at home, the entire neighbourhood was out looking for me. Or at least it seemed that way. A few neighbours from across and down the street were outside, which I remember being quite odd. That many people were never outside at the same time. 

That is probably my most vivid memory, and one of the only, I have from being a child. Others are simply glimpses of a friend’s big, fluffy orange cat, eating cold KD with ketchup for lunch because I liked it that way, or watching a friend play Halo while her dad was out (I had no idea what Halo was at that time). I moved around so much that I think my brain repressed a lot of things. Not trauma, but traumatic for my innocent little mind. A lot went on in my early life that I could not comprehend at the time. And then, suddenly, I woke up. We moved to a new city, not for the first time, but for the first time to a new province. We didn’t know anybody. I started at a new school. I made a friend simply for being a “smart kid” and so my friend was the other “smart kid”. A year later, she introduced me to a girl who I believe, to this day, was my soulmate. Though she did not feel the same way about me. She was a free spirit, independent; the same things people told me I was, but we were far from the same. 

Looking back, she taught me everything I needed to know about the world. She took an innocent, scared child and made me into someone who understands mental illness, addiction, why people act the way they do, she taught me that I could do whatever I wanted, skip school, shoplift, tell people how I really felt about them (good or bad). It’s strange to have been so deeply influenced by a person who seemingly had no interest in me for the majority of the decade that we were friends. She absolutely broke my heart when she said that we had only really been friends for two or three years. And then cut further the more she told me what she thought of me. I already knew those things about myself, I didn’t need my soulmate telling me those things. I lashed out, as I do, and eventually, after months of telling her to fuck off with her drunken calls, I finally was rid of her. The girl who shaped the woman I am today. 

I’m not sure if this will turn into anything, or if it will just be ramblings from a heartbroken girl, but I’ll be using this space to share my memories, before, during, and after my time with my soulmate. Sometimes I’ll be angry, sometimes tired, sometimes sobbing as I write these words. Sometimes I’ll make no sense at all, and sometimes I’ll be searching for the sense in my experiences. Whatever happens, I hope that each time, I’ll feel a little better than before. 

[3rensgf]

stupid/annoying, but endearing, things they do in a relationship eren, armin, jean, connie, erwin, levi, reiner, bertholdt, porco, zeke, colt, hanji, mikasa, sasha, annie, pieck

word count: 2.3k

warnings: one mention of sex in erens, reader uses makeup in jeans, mentions of injuries and dilf!reiner in reiners

notes: this is a gn!reader. there are mentions of makeup being used, but i feel like any gender can use makeup. it's not even anything serious like a beat face. just some lip gloss n mascara. chapstick too but thats not makeup. it's just one line, so you can skip over it if you would like to!

✩ eren bites you. its not even in a sexual way, he just likes to bite. they’re like a second form of kissing to him. you could be chilling together on the couch watching a movie, and he’ll just chomp on your shoulder. even when you were trying to focus on something, he swings by, bites then leaves. eren has no shame, so he does it in front of your friends too. you could be having a normal conversation with mikasa and he’ll just bite you, then the two of you carry on as if it was normal. it’s not normal. but you love it. sometimes you bite him back too. but only in private.

✩ armin gives you random things he finds. armin likes to go out and explore, with or without you. when he comes back after an adventure you opted out of, he always has something for you he found. a rock, a seashell or a cool flower are just some of the things he gets for you. if he can’t find something, he finds a gift shop to get you something instead, saying, “well, (y/n), i did find it in the gift shop.” he always looks so proud giving it to you, rambling about the story of how he found your gift. you have a small box tucked away with all the treasures he gives you.

✩ jean steals your things. whenever he comes over, he likes to mooch off your possessions. if he’s spending the night at your place and needs a shower, he’s using your shampoo, conditioner and body wash. if his lips are chapped, he swipes your lip balm to use on himself. one time you even walked in on him trying your mascara and lip gloss. another time he had your clothes on his giant frame. but he always replaces whatever he uses, venmoing you within the next few days with some cash and a sorry note. “sorry for using ur lip balm baby, buy some more <3” with $20 attached to it. you tell him that lip balm doesn’t even cost that much, but he tells you to treat yourself to lunch with the extra money.

✩ connie makes plans without letting you know beforehand. at 3am, you are woken up by an influx of messages and calls from your boyfriend. in your sleepy state you go to answer him, only to be told to get dressed and come out. he’s right outside of your house and hungry. you remind him it’s very early in the morning and you both have class. “but i’m hungry and craving burgers,” he repeats. you have no choice to get in the car with him. this can happen throughout the day, not just early in the morning. one time he whisked you away in the middle of your online class because he didn’t tell you he bought tickets to a movie showing in 30 minutes. the memories you share on these spontaneous dates are always your favorite ones with him.

✩ erwin buys you whatever you like in bulk. it’s not even an exaggeration when you say bulk. you mention one thing to him, and the next day there are boxes upon boxes sitting on your kitchen counter. “these oranges taste pretty good,” you mumble to yourself as you peel your 2nd one. erwins sharp ears hear this, and first thing in the morning he’s off to buy multiple bags of your supposed favorite oranges. it takes you days, sometimes weeks, to finish whatever he decided to buy you. you always tell him he doesn’t need to buy so much, but he never listens. though, you always appreciate how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes.

✩ levi cleans up for you and ruins your organization. it’s always a blessing when someone else decides to take on the burden of cleaning for you, and you thought you hit the jackpot with a boyfriend who loved to clean, clean, clean. but it could get annoying when you suddenly couldn’t find anything you placed anywhere. if you’re anything like me, you’re messy but organized. you know where things are. when levi comes to clean, he places things where he thinks they should go. you’re sent on a wild goose chase looking for your pencil case, only for it to be in a completely different drawer than the one you usually kept it in. despite this behavior, it’s always nice to come home from a long day from school to see your desk organized. what was once a mess of papers and other supplies have been filed into their correct places, the table wiped down from any lingering coffee stains and your supplies being organized in a way so you knew where everything was. sometimes there’d be a plate of fruit with the note, “good luck on your exams,” written in your boyfriends neat writing beside it.

✩ reiner coddles you too much. whenever you express any sort of discomfort, reiner is always rushing to your side. “are you hurt? do you need medical attention? how many fingers am i holding up?” he asks, checking you for any cuts or bruises. thank you, honey, but i’m fine. just bumped into the counter. despite that, he’s dragging you over to the bathroom to fix up your imaginary injuries. you always find it a bit much when you’re fine. it’s during the times where you’re actually hurt where you learn to appreciate it. he’s so gentle cleaning your cuts, kissing them softly once they’re dressed. you wonder if he’d be like that with your future children.

✩ bertholdt is too nervous around you. it’s been years since the two of you got together, and he still refuses to make eye contact with you. his hands get sweaty and shake when you attempt to hold his hand. he always stumbles over his words when speaking to you as he tries to find the right words to say. he even blushes when he introduces you to other people as his significant other! you remind bertholdt over and over again that he doesn’t need to be so shy around you. but you cant help but coo over him showing up for your date, flustered mess and thrusting flowers into your hand. “they reminded me of you,” he said quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. you giggle and press a kiss to his hot cheeks.

✩ porco is too cocky for his own good. he’s always parading around the house, boasting about his latest achievements. he beat colt in a video game colt was a supposed god in. he can throw a baseball farther than zeke. he can run faster than pieck. if he’s taller than you, he's always making fun of you for being shorter than him. if you’re taller, you’re not exempt from his wrath either. he’s boasting about how he’s perfect height to not hit his head on doorways. he never goes as far as to hurt your feelings, always knowing when to stop. though he has a big ego, he would let it crash and burn just to see you smile after beating him at smash bros. you laugh and taunt him, happy you beat him in one thing. he doesn’t mind, instead watching you with a soft smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

✩ zeke forces you to work out with him. and it’s not like in the afternoon to help you stretch out. it’s not light yoga or a couple minutes on the treadmill. no, this man wakes you up at ass crack in the morning to take you on a 5 mile hiking trip. you barely have any time to register what is happening around you before you’re already standing at the start of the trail with your gear. “come on! we can’t slack off!” he says, clapping his hands together. the sun is beating down on you and your feet hurt, but this man doesn’t let you stop for a break. “we’re almost there,” he says. your complaining goes out the window when he shows you the view at the top. its one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. hiking up long ass trails to see beautiful views with your boyfriend was so worth it in the end.

✩ colt accidentally turns your dates into babysitting sessions. you show up at his house with the promise of a good time, only to be met with a guilty looking colt and his little brother falco behind him. “sorry,” he says sheepishly, “gabi got sick with the cold, so i couldn’t drop him off there. i hope you don’t mind him staying.” you hide your disappointment behind a wide smile, nodding enthusiastically as to not hurt either of their feelings. you just wanted to spend some alone time with your boyfriend, and it would have to wait. hanging out with falco wasn’t actually that bad. the three of you had an amazing time together, watching tv, playing games and even baking together. if you hate kids, you can’t bring yourself to hate falco; he’s just the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. you and falco are already asking colt when the three of you can hang out again when you have to go back home.

✩ hanji is always talking. you don’t discourage them from talking about their interests. they’re very passionate about the things they love, and can’t help talking about them. its like the scene where hanji kept eren up all night talking about titans. when you’re trying to focus on something or go to sleep, hanji is just yapping away. you’re honestly amazed at their ability to never run out of things to say about the most mundane things. hell, one time they talked for an hour and a half about a building color they saw when they were out one day. but hanji just looked so happy when talking. their face would break out into a huge grin, and their arms would fly around as they told their story. it was too cute for you to tell them to stop.

✩ mikasa hovers too much. every corner you turn, every place you go to, mikasa is following. she claims she’s not clingy, but in reality she is. it’s like a cat who hates affection, but needs to be in the same room as you at all times. you don’t mind her following you into the bedroom or living room or kitchen. you had to draw a line when she tried to follow you into the bathroom. even when you’re out, she’s always following you around. you tell her it’s okay to break off from you and spend some time by herself, but she always shakes her head and follows you to your next destination. you’re always grateful for her hovering when a group of drunk people try hitting on you, whistling and telling you they’ll give you a good time. but one look at your girlfriend who showed up from out of nowhere, and they’re running away with their tails between their legs.

✩ sasha eats your food. she can’t help it. she likes to snack. she’s always hungry. and you get that. to stop things like this from happening, you have separate places to keep your food. just so sasha and you have your favorite snacks and takeout separated. you respect the rule, but your girlfriend seems to lose her reading skills when hungry, one too many times you have walked in on her with her hand deep into a bag of your chips, something you’ve been waiting to eat all week when you were supposed to watch that new horror movie on netflix with her. you huff and puff and retreat to your bedroom. sasha comes back after a few hours, looking upset with tons and tons of snacks in her arms. “i’m sorry i ate your chips,” she frowns. she sets down all the food she got on your bed. “i got all these snacks you liked as an apology. and 3 bags of your favorite chips.” you could never stay mad at her cute face.

✩ annie complains about spending time with you. “i like my alone time,” she says, brushing you off when you asked why she didn’t want to watch a movie with you. some people were introverted, preferring to spend time by themselves rather than with someone else. you were like that too; you had your moments where you didn’t feel like being around your girlfriend. but it became an annoying problem when she constantly shot down your attempts to hang out with you. when she finally agrees, she’s always finding something to complain about. but during important dates or when you’re not in the best mood, she’s always the first to remind you or initiate a hang out/date. she shuts her mouth and enjoys her time with you, not one criticism or groan leaving her lips. she would never admit it, but being around you made her so happy.

✩ pieck is always sleeping. you have to wait a few hours to get a text or call back from pieck because she’s always dozing off somewhere. “sorry sweets,” she yawns into the mic, “was taking a nap. need something?” good luck trying to reach your girlfriend during an emergency. when you come home with takeout for dinner because neither of you wanted to cook, she’s sleeping at the dinner table. when you’re watching a movie she wanted to watch, she’s snoring away, curled up at the end of the couch. during lectures you share together, she has her head in her arms and has the audacity to ask you for your notes in the end. and it’s not like she’s not getting enough sleep, no. she gets her recommended 8 hours of sleep and then some. it’s nice to have a sleepy girlfriend, though, when you’re dead tired from living. you drag your feet into the bedroom to see her about to take her nth nap for the day. she notices your zombie-like state and opens up her arms for you. the two of you cuddle and nap together, sleeping the stress away.

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[rocorambles]

Jealousy

Pairing: Atsumu x Reader (Main), Osamu x Reader (Side)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Rape/Non-Con, Misuse of Duct Tape, Non-Con Bondage, Forced Breeding, Forced Impregnation, Delusional Mindset

Summary: Atsumu is determined to prove that he’s the better twin for you.    

The first time Atsumu meets you he doesn’t remember you so much as he gets stuck on the fact that Osamu is dating someone. Osamu is fucking dating someone and Atsumu is still here single and alone in his late twenties, not a girl anywhere even in sight. It makes him livid as he stares at the identical face gently smiling at you, affectionately holding your hand, looking so damn happy and content. 

What does he have that Atsumu doesn’t? A successful food chain? Cool. But is he a pro-athlete? A medal winning Olympic athlete? One of the best setters in the country? In the world? It’s infuriating to think about and as much as Atsumu loves volleyball, even he dreams of love, marriage, a family of his own late at night when he’s alone on a hotel bed, only Sakusa’s breathing from the other bed in the room keeping him company. 

And those thoughts consume him long after he bids farewell to Osamu and you and suddenly the MSBY Jackals are in an uproar as every team member takes turns being sexiled by their blond setter when they’re off at their away games, as Atsumu nonchalantly strolls into the locker rooms to prep for practice, back littered with scratch marks that Bokuto tries to shield from Hinata’s eyes when the orange haired athlete curiously asks when Atsumu got a cat. 

Girl after girl walks in and out of his bed, his life. Most never lasting more than a night, a few returning for a couple more rounds in the bedsheets, one even manages to interest him enough to grab a cup of coffee with. But it’s the same verdict every time. He’s good enough to fool around with and he’s great in bed, but Miya Atsumu is not husband material, not when he’s already married to volleyball. 

The rejection only fuels his inner turmoil and the green eyed monster inside of him grows and grows, festering and spreading throughout him the more he stops attempting his futile attempts and instead turns his energy to loitering around Osamu and you, inviting himself over for dinners after practice, trying his hand at helping you in the kitchen for brunch on the weekends, crashing in your guest bedroom to the point that Osamu and you gift him a spare key to your shared home. 

Neither of you think much of it, Osamu joking to you privately that this is just Atsumu being the needy emotional brother he really is while you’re just glad to be able to get to know Osamu’s family better. So none of you notice how brown eyes inquisitively trail after the both of you, watching how the two of you seamlessly work out both your hectic lives, never letting the long hours at your job or Osamu’s restaurant get in the way of your relationship, always directing a warm smile or gaze at the other despite how obviously exhausted or far away from a good mood you’re in. 

And Atsumu lets himself believe that this could be his as he hungrily stares at the way you gently caress his brother’s hand, the affection in your gaze as you tenderly kiss him on the lips, the playful wink you give his twin when you tell him you’re getting ready for bed. He lets himself dream that it’s him who you direct those loving gazes to as you cheerfully greet him in the morning, handing him a coffee made just the way he likes it, placing a plate full of delicious piping hot food in front of him. He lets his hand wander down his shorts at night, straining to hear every detail, every decibel of your moans as Osamu and you make love at night, closing his eyes and stroking his cock as he imagines it’s him who’s forcing those beautiful cries from your mouth. 

But it’s not all a picture perfect paradise and Atsumu carefully listens in, alerted by the raising voices he hears through the walls as more and more time passes by. He’d noticed the growing tension in the house, noticed how the two of you were less affectionate, almost awkwardly shuffling around each other when both of you were home from work these past few months. But he couldn’t think of what could have caused both of you to act so strangely, so suddenly, when everything had seemed so swell. 

Curiosity has him placing his ear on the wall and he winces when he hears you shout, anger and hurt in your voice that makes his heart clench painfully, asking when Osamu was going to propose, telling his brother how you’re sick of waiting, how you want to get married and have kids soon. Something shattering inside of him when your voice becomes small and hesitant. 

“I thought that’s what you wanted too, Osamu. Isn’t that why we decided to start living together?”

He expects his brother to leap at the opportunity, to reassure you, yes, absolutely yes, we can get married right away. He knows that if their positions were switched, that’s what he would be doing. But his jaw drops in disbelief, morphing into a scowl when Osamu pleads for you to calm down, to be patient. 

“I do want that. But just not right now.”

“If not now, when? We’re not getting any younger, Osamu.” 

“But my chain is in talks of expanding and there’s so much going on. I just don’t have time-”

There’s a heavy silence as Osamu is quick to snap his mouth shut and Atsumu knows he’s cursing himself for the slip of his tongue, already knows the next words that are going to come out of your mouth, words he himself is all too familiar with from his own past failed relationships. 

“You just don’t have time for us? Me?” 

“That’s not what I meant…”

But it’s too late and Atsumu flinches when he hears loud angry movement, Osamu’s voice imploring you to calm down and stop what you’re doing to no avail as you stomp out of the house, slamming the front door behind you as you make your way to a friend’s house to spend the night apart. 

No one speaks of that night after you return to the house the next day and the three of you continue as normal. Or at least as normal as you can be after an unresolved disagreement that your relationship ultimately hinges around continues ticking like a time bomb in everyone’s minds. And it finally counts down to zero when Osamu packs his bags and plants a cold chaste kiss on your lips before heading to the airport and making his way to seal the deal on the restaurant expansion that’s taken over his entire life. 

Maybe it’s Atsumu’s fault that the two of you are drunk out of your minds, sprawled out on the living room floor. Scratch that. It’s definitely Atsumu’s fault and he drunkenly smiles at how out of it you are, heart warming at the giddy genuine smile spread across your face, happiness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen ever since that argument Osamu and you had. And oh, he didn’t mean to say that out loud and he panics, quickly sobering up when your smile falls at his words, eyes glazed in reminiscence as you think of that night. 

Atsumu isn’t known for his patience, but he waits, not uttering a single word, not moving an inch as you open yourself up to him, telling him your hopes and dreams that so closely match his own of a loving relationship, marriage, family, sharing about the argument Osamu and you had (unknowing of the fact that Atsumu already knows far more than he should). But when you frustratedly laugh at yourself, asking him rhetorically if you’re just being silly and naive, if you’re just a grown woman trying to fulfill a little girl’s childish dream, you’re stunned by the fierce denial from the blonde athlete determinedly staring at you.

“No. You’re not being silly or naive. ‘Samu’s being the idiot. Any man would be lucky and proud to have you as his wife and to create a family with you.”

Those words resonate with you, linger in your mind, further branded into your memory by the sheer sincerity Atsumu drowned them in. And maybe that’s why you find it impossible to play house anymore, find it impossible to live a forced and fake lie when you’re not truly happy anymore. It’s hard, heartbreakingly so, to part ways with the silver haired man when he still holds a part of your heart, but it’s for the best. Why continue when neither of you are on the same page in the long run? Why waste more precious years when you can actively work towards your desired future with someone else who wants the same things as you? 

It’s logical. It makes sense. And yet when you meet up with Atsumu at his apartment for dinner one night to catch up a few months or so after the break up you’re still doubting your decision. 

You had been surprised the blond setter had been so adamant about keeping in touch even after his brother and you separated, but if you’re honest, he’s surprisingly sweet and caring, someone you consider a true friend. So as awkward as it might seem to outsiders, the two of you remain in close contact and you happily agree to his invite when both your busy schedules finally match up. 

But as much as you like Atsumu, the two of you really need to stop drinking so much when you see each other and you let out a cry of frustration when your eyes immediately tear up when Atsumu casually asks how you’re doing as both of you sprawl out on his couch, trying to wave away his worried face as he hovers far too close to you, telling him it’s just the alcohol making you more emotional than usual. 

And you still blame all the drinks he had generously kept refilling for you for the way you sob and cling onto him as he wraps you in a tight hug, telling him how you worry all the time about whether or not you made the right decision to break up with Osamu, whether or not you’re ever going to find someone else, ever going to get married, ever going to have that dream romance you’ve always wanted, ever going to have the happy full family you’ve always yearned for. 

It all comes out of you so easily. But everything with Atsumu has always come easy and you don’t think much of it, finding comfort in his solid presence as he continues to hold you, letting him readjust and find a comfortable position-

You scramble to separate from him when lips tenderly meet yours, limbs flailing as you shove the man away from you, eyes comically wide open as you stare agape at Atsumu. 

“What are you- We can’t- No no no. All of this is wrong. This would KILL Osamu-”

Something inside of Atsumu snaps when he hears his brother’s name from your lips. Even after all this time, you’re still thinking of him? You still care about him? When the better twin is right in front of your fucking face? 

He doesn’t even register he’s shouting those questions in your face, barely registering your terrified eyes as you try to shrink away from him. But your movement of pulling away from him snaps him back to reality and reflexes has his hand twisting in your hair, grabbing you by your roots, fury making him numb to the way you desperately claw at his grip as he drags you to his bedroom. 

You’re too focused on soothing your aching skull when he finally releases you by throwing you onto his bed and pitiful tears stream down your face as you gingerly hold your head, ignorant of how the athlete is rummaging through his closet. In hindsight you’ll wonder why you didn’t try to run while his back was turned, although you already know the answer. This is just Atsumu in one of his moods. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He’ll apologize in just a second. Those are the thoughts fleeting through your mind amidst the sore ache Atsumu has left behind. 

But a warning bell rings relentlessly inside of you as you finally look up when you sense him approaching you, a thick roll of silver duct tape in his hands. 

Had Atsumu always looked so...intimidating?

You try to fight back as you’re suddenly pinned to the bed by a muscular body, flailing and thrashing as calloused hands hold your arms above your hand, tightly wrapping your wrists together, looping extra lengths of the tape around the headboard, securely fastening your arms up and out of the way. But it’s useless, pathetic really, although Atsumu thinks there’s something adorable about how hard you’re trying, only to be easily batted away by his much stronger body as he tears off your clothes and bends your knees, taping your calves to your thighs, one side at a time until both your legs are bound. 

And then there’s silence and stillness other than your wriggling tied form as Atsumu sits back and admires the view of your naked body, reality so much more lucious and gorgeous than he had ever imagined. You struggle against your tight restraints, recoiling as brown eyes leer at you, ravenously devouring the sight of your heaving breasts, raking down your figure before finally landing on your bare pussy on full display as his hands spread your bound legs on either side of you, palms searing your inner thighs with their unwanted warmth as he holds you open. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape to hold you down and keep you still. One day you’ll let him have you of your own free will. One day you’ll see that he was always the one for you. But he can’t help but feel that there’s something breathtaking about how vulnerable and pretty you are, laid out for him like a wrapped present, something filthily attractive about how striking the silver stripes are against your skin. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape...but that doesn’t mean he'll stop using it. 

You shudder as he trails his fingers over the duct tape, grinning at you all the while. 

“Can’t have you moving too much if I’m going to breed you. You’ll make all my cum spill out of you.”

He tsks when you frantically struggle at his words, pathetic begs and pleads spilling from your lips as dread fills you from learning exactly what Atsumu has planned for you and suddenly you’re all too aware of just how exposed you are, how tight the front of his pants look as his erection presses against the fabric, how far too close he is to your most intimate part. And you sob as he leans on top of you, pressing his toned body against yours, something hard pressing against your bare pussy as he captures your lips in a kiss to silence you. 

“I thought you would be more thankful considering how you were practically in my arms begging me for kids not even a hour ago. And now I’m here ready to give you what you want and you’re making such a fuss.” 

He rolls his eyes, scoffing as you only sob even harder, body shaking and trembling, sniveling as you stare up at him with teary eyes, begging him to stop. 

“Oh shut up. What? Are you worried about the order of things? Worried I’ll just knock you up and leave you alone? Don’t be stupid. I’ll make sure to put a ring on your finger and marry you after this. Who cares about the order of things when the end result is the same.” 

Your mouth opens and shuts a few times, unsure where to even begin telling him just how wrong his reasoning is, unsure how to even process his words. Ring? Marry? What-

But thoughts fly out of your head when a hungry mouth suddenly descends on your breasts, harshly sucking a nipple between wet lips, fingers roughly twisting and pulling at your other nipple and you wail at the jolt of sudden stimulation, too focused on the tongue lapping at your nipples and lances of arousal swirling inside of you to notice how his free hand is shoving his pants and boxers down and off. 

You hate how quick you are to melt into the delirious pleasure, body craving for the touch of another, to be brought to new heights by another after being left to your own devices for the past few months and you can feel your pussy clench and throb, feeling so exposed and empty, practically begging to be stuffed full as slick begins to form between your legs. And as if Atsumu can hear your body’s silent cry for more, he begins to push the tip of his cock inside of you and your back arches, mouth instinctively opening as he takes his time, pressing past your tight opening, slipping further and further inside of you until he’s finally fully sheathed inside of you, letting your body adjust to him as he continues licking and sucking on your breasts, groaning as he feels your tight walls clamp around him with every move of his mouth. 

Atsumu is not known for his patience, but he tries his damn best to take it as slow as he bearably can for you, dragging his cock back and forth against your gummy walls, constantly adjusting the angle of his hips with every stroke until you’re crying out, and he smirks triumphantly, memorizing the exact position and angle that has you seeing stars as he continuously hits that spongy spot inside of you. And all it takes is for his hand to slide between the two of you and gently circle your clit as he continues his steady assault to have you breaking to pieces underneath him, garbled versions of his name escaping your mouth as your orgasm washes over you in heavy tall waves, his own release joining with yours as your pussy convulses and milks him of his sticky white liquid. 

As post-coital bliss disintegrates, shame and relief flood through you, shame for enjoying it, relief that this ordeal is finally over and you wait. Wait for him to remove the tape. Wait for him to pull out of you. Grimacing as he affectionately nuzzles you and litters your face with kisses. But you panic, pure fear flooding through you when you feel his cock twitching inside of you once more, growing inside of you again. 

“You didn’t think we were done, did you? Need to make sure I fill you with so much cum that your body has no choice but to get pregnant.”

And he stays true to his words, fucking you over and over again, sometimes hard and rough, sometimes passionate and sensual, sometimes soft and gentle, but always finishing inside of you, adding to the splattered pooling mess inside of you. You feel disgusting, the increasingly wet noises as he thrusts in and out of the sticky wet mess inside of you permeating throughout the room, stomach feeling so bloated with cum that you swear you must be pregnant already. 

Quiet, relieved sobs wrack your body when the weight on top of you finally lifts, when he finally pulls out of you and your body slumps down, all the tension leaving it, discomfort taking its place as you feel a torrent of liquid move to rush out of your overfilled cunt, the beginnings of it already starting to trickle out. But despite your aching dry throat, you manage to let out a strangled cry of disbelief when your hips are uncomfortably raised up, upper body almost folded in half as Atsumu keeps your glistening pussy upright, not allowing even a single drop more to escape. 

And in this new position you have no choice but to watch, anxiety coursing through you when he tears off another piece of duct tape, chest hyperventilating as he places it over your gaping hole, effectively sealing you shut and despite the fact that you thought you had no more tears left to shed, new salty teardrops slide down your cheeks at the debauched site of your own pussy being treated as nothing more than an object, a receptacle for his seed, his beaming smug face between your legs only adding to your humiliation as he smiles down at his handiwork. 

All you can do is mindlessly stare when he directs his smile at you, verbally praising himself for how smart he is for finding a way to keep his cum inside of you and making sure all his hard work doesn’t go to waste, mind and body feeling numb and broken as he finally lets your body lay fully back on the bed, slumping down next to you in exhaustion and cuddling your listless and still bound figure. 

“We can go pick out rings together tomorrow, okay? Maybe try a few more times for some runts after. You think the more I cum in you, the better the chance that you’ll have twins?”

You don’t know, but you have a sinking feeling that you’ll soon be finding out.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Hi! First of all, your writing is ASTOUNDING. I adore how you characterize. Secondly, I have a prompt idea:

A Villain who is falling in love with a Hero, but won’t admit it to themself. They stop being able to effectively fight Hero because they don’t want to hurt them. But Supervillain notices, so they capture Hero and use them to lure Villain in.

-Wicky

🥺🥺🥺 Thank you so very much! You just made my day. I thank you for the compliment and the prompt! I sure hope I did it justice, and I hope you enjoy!

CW//Injuries, threats, implied torture

Villain’s world spun as their skull cracked against the rough concrete of the roof. Opening their eyes, their field of vision was filled with only an array of stars.

Everything hurt.

They were convinced, in that moment, that there was not an inch of their flesh that was left unbruised, not a rib left unfractured. Breathing on its own was an ordeal, an ordeal that they endured only out of pure necessity.

Pain rippled through the stocks of jelly they had once called limbs as the villain scrambled first to hands and knees, and finally to their feet, even as unsteady as they were. They could do nothing but gasp as they faced down their opponent.

There was something in Hero’s eyes. Something that even their nemesis, their sworn, life-long foe could not quite name. It was not quite sympathy, no, but it was not quite pity, either. Something inbetween, perhaps, with only the slightest garnishing of regret.

“Come on, Villain.” It was with a pleading tone that the hero spoke, as though attempting to coax a frightened cat down from the top branches of a Redwood tree. “Just stand down! You can’t win this. We have you surrounded. No harm will come to you- No more harm.”

Yet, the villain only shook their head.

For any outsider, the matchup would have looked more like a massacre, waiting to happen. Villain themself was perhaps not the picture of musculature, but what villain was? No, they may not have been the strongest. But everyone knew what power they held in their palms, the lightning they could unleash at will. Enough to topple the building upon which they stood. Enough to topple the whole city, perhaps. The city had yet to so much as see their full potential.

But it was their potential that the villain now refused to use.

Hero, on the other hand, was... well, they weren’t much. As strong as they were, as clever, as smart, superstrength could only do one so much good. Villain could have destroyed them in passing, with the snap of a finger!

Why wasn’t the hero in the nearest emergency room? Even Villain themself wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m not giving up, asshole!” They snarled, balling their hands to fists. It would be so easy. So very simple to send a torrent of lightning forth, to shock Hero within an inch of their life. Hell, Villain used their powers to make popcorn on the weekends!

But, they couldn’t. They couldn’t imagine Hero, the poor thing, the pitiful little fool, fallen to the ground. The very thought of using their powers against their opponent made them feel sick.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Hero spoke, eyes wide and glimmering with that same mix of sympathy and regret.

“Too bad.”

And, with that, the rooftop once more became a battleground. Villain surged forward, met in the center by their nemesis. A blow to the side of their head sent them stumbling.

They couldn’t go on like this, they knew as their vision clouded once more with stars. Another hit and they would be unconscious, in the custody of the so-called good guys. They couldn’t do that.

They had two choices.

Three. Three choices.

The first? To take the hit. To bite the bullet, to find themself behind bars.

The second? To hurt Hero. To wipe that oh-so-innocent quiver from their lips. To destroy-

No. They had two options. That wasn’t even on the table. Villain could be beaten, or they could flee.

It was with a shivering gasp that they chose the second.

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Sidekick placed down their fork with a resounding clack. In the silent room, the sound resembled the ring of a gong.

“Are you absolutely certain you’re alright?” They asked with a quirked brow. With the day turning to evening, they had left their sidekick’s uniform behind, replaced now with a casual set of garments. After all, the restaurant at which they were eating was far from fancy. That wasn’t the type of villain that their mentor was.

“Of course I’m alright. Do I look like some kind of ailing senior citizen?” Villain muttered under their breath as they looked over in displeasure at their sidekick. For someone so young, they certainly had a mouth.

“Not now. But on the battlefield last night-”

“I’m fine. I’m up and walking, aren’t I?”

“It’s not about that.” Sidekick shook their head. “It was in the battle. You could’ve taken out Hero easy-”

“Keep your voice down, we’re in public.”

“Sorry.” They lowered their tone. “But, I’ve seen you take Hero out dozens of times. Recently, though, you’ve been all over the place. You can’t even land a single hit! I’m worried. You’ve lost your edge. Up on that rooftop, it was like you were somewhere else entirely.”

Villain had been somewhere else entirely, not that they would ever dare to admit it. They had been lost, hopelessly lost- Lost in the eyes of their damn nemesis.

“I just wasn’t on the ball. Everyone has off days.” They grumbled, turning their embarrassed gaze away.

“Everyone has off days. But you’ve been having an off month! Don’t think I haven’t noticed that it’s just them. Just Hero.”

“They’re getting better.”

“So are you.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

Sidekick reached across the table, placing their palm upon the back of their mentor’s hand, which had unconsciously been balled into a fist.

“You nearly got captured, last night. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Villain. If you’re sick, if something’s wrong, anything at all, you need to tell me.”

Villain suddenly spotted something very interesting on their shoes, and kept their gaze fixed there.

“It’s stupid.”

“Are you sick? Everyone gets sick sometimes, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Not sick.”

“Then what?”

Villain gritted their teeth.

“Lovesick.”

Sidekick withdrew their hand in shock.

“What?”

“Look, it’s stupid! I don’t know. I shouldn’t be feeling that way about a hero, but- They’re a good person, I swear it. They want to help, and they’re kind, and I just can’t bear the thought of hurting them. What if I changed them? What if I hurt them, and that was what made them lose hope, lose faith? Then that’d be on my shoulders!”

“You’re saying...” Sidekick’s jaw was still ajar in shock. “You’re saying that you can’t fight Hero, because you’re in love with them?”

Villain looked up with a sigh.

“To put it shortly, I suppose.”

The both of them were shocked as a figure appeared next to their table. A sharply-dressed figure with a notepad.

“Are you two ready to order?”

“Yes, my apologies.” Villain cleared their throat. They and their sidekick presented their orders, which the waiter scrawled down with a series of understanding nods.

It was not until that particular waiter disappeared from the dining room that they slipped out of their disguise, and dialed a number into their phone.

“Hey, Boss? You might wanna hear about this.”

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To say Villain was in a bad mood would have been an understatement.

The injuries covering every last inch of their body, too, ached with every step they took. Bruises and beatings rippled, forcing them nearly to limp. Yet, they forced their gait to remain normal, even if it meant pain.

They couldn’t call attention to themself. Not when they were in civilian clothes like this, and not when they were on the streets. Still, they kept their head low and their sweatshirt hoodie up as they went along. No need to stick out in the crowd.

This was the only solace they ever got, after all. When some got frustrated, they would go for a drive in the night. But their vehicle was distinctive enough that that wasn’t an option for the villain.

Instead? They walked, moving along with the crowd as though they were a single fish in a school. Usually, this helped them calm down. Now, however, every step they took only made their thoughts spin more wildly.

First, it was Hero. Hero and their stupid eyes. Then it was Sidekick. It wasn’t that Sidekick had confronted them that made them so worried, it was that they’d noticed at all.

That meant that other people out there might spot their weakness. Might use it as an advantage. Who would it be, though? Hero themself? Or, even-

A gasp rippled through the crowd around them in a wave. Voices shouted and fingers pointed, all in the same direction. Villain wiggled their way out of the crowd in order to see what had caused such fuss.

A billboard. An electronic billboard.

An electronic billboard that no longer housed an advertisement for the latest cellphone or insurance scam. No. Upon the massive thing, multiple stories in height, surely, was broadcasted a video.

“Good evening, and I do apologize for interrupting. But I just had to get my friend’s attention.”

Villain’s breath caught in their throat. They would know that voice even if they had to pick it out of a crowd of thousands.

Most would have expected that two people so similar as Villain and Supervillain would get along, but the reality was just the opposite. Villain couldn’t call themself a good guy, no, but they had ethics. Morals. Real aims to work towards, rather than burning the city down and laughing among the flames.

Supervillain, on the other hand? There was a reason that they were so feared. Their goals were far grander than Villain’s.

To say that they had never been very good friends would be an understatement.

And, now? Now they were enemies. The video projected upon that billboard made that fact certain.

Supervillain themself was not visible in frame-- Perhaps that was lucky for Villain. Seeing that stupid face would have certainly goaded them into destroying the projection outright. Instead, the video displayed a room.

A concrete room, with a chair in the center. A chair that was far from empty.

It was always Hero’s eyes that they could not help but get lost in. Now, that wasn’t a factor. Not when the hero was so tightly blindfolded. Their soothing, calming voice, too, had been eliminated-- the cloth gag in their mouth was already soaked-through with spittle.

Tied to the chair, bound, gagged, and blinded, sat Hero.

“Now, I don’t want a ransom. No, no. I only want to see a dear friend of mine. And it has been oh, so hard to track them down.

So, Villain, dear?”

They shivered at the sound of their name. Their name.

“How about you come to my base, and pick up your little friend, here. Or else, I might just have to do something drastic.”

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For six hours, Villain did not move.

As soon as the broadcast had left the billboard, it had repeated itself upon every news channel that gave half a crap about the metropolis. National news, even international, with subtitles in two dozen languages telling of Supervillain’s threat.

They’d found out. Of course they’d found out.

Villain knew they  should have been furious. They should have strangled Supervillain, strangled Hero, strangled themself! After all, this was all their fault. Falling for a hero, how could they have possibly been so stupid?

Now, they stared. Hands balled to fists in their lap as yet another newscaster explained the same events, over and over again.

“Boss?” Sidekick’s voice was soft, nothing like their usual, nosy self. They sat in a chair behind their mentor, who was seated criss-cross on the floor.

There was no answer.

“Boss... What are you going to do?”

“I can’t leave them.”

“Leave who?”

“Leave Hero. You know what Supervillain is like! They’ll destroy them. Destroy the last good hero in the city.”

“You didn’t want to hurt them.”

“And I don’t want to see them hurt, either.”

“I know you don’t. But it’s all Supervillain has over you. You can just... Leave them, right? It’s not like Hero has any real power over you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I have to.”

“You don’t!”

Villain stood.

“Yes, I do.” They spun around, stalking towards the room that held their costume. “And I need to wipe that damn smile off Supervillain’s face.”

[quillsareswords]

Can we get the conversation between Damian and reader after he admits he called her his girlfriend? Maybe where they establish that they are indeed a couple now??

"So," you hum, twisting a plastic spoon around a milkshake. Your eyes must find it awfully interesting, because they haven't left the sight since you sat down at this steel outdoor table.

"So." He's not looking at you either. Well, not now. He had been. He had been watching every miniscule movement in your face, near desperate to work out what you were thinking. His hands feel clamy. This jacket is suddenly way too thick for early spring in Gotham. Is the air thick here? (Actually, with the pollution rates, it probably is.)

"Girlfriend, huh?"

He wants to rip all his hair out. Or maybe he'd rather toss himself into traffic. The street is right there. Maybe six steps to his left. You're so casual about it. Like you're asking how his physics essay is coming. Like you're asking him to stop for food before he gets to your apartment. No hint. Nothing. You could be the happiest person in the city or the most annoyed. His right eye twitches.

You know him too well. You've learned exactly how to hide from him. Weather it's a surprise gift or you've just had a mental breakdown over a math sheet in highschool, you've learned how to school your facial expressions to buy yourself time. Of course, this is Damian. He has other ways of knowing you were sobbing an hour ago no matter how many times you redo makeup or scrub tears from your face.

You glance up when he doesn't answer. He's staring at you, blankly. Well, almost. His eye twitches, his mouth quirks. He's doing exactly what you're doing. Just, worse. Somehow.

You're both sitting outside this cafe, one you've been to a million times before, at a table you sit at every other week. You're both sitting here playing cat and mouse. Both trying to gauge the other's thoughts and actions before clarifying their own. It's like battle.

Unfortunately, you've been too close for too long. You both know too much about the other for this game to work.

For example, you know for a fact that if you take a swing, you'd better knock him out cold the first time.

You stare right back. "Did you mean it? Is that what you want?"

His whole body tenses. The hand wrapped around a paper coffee cup is threatening to crumple it and send steaming liquid gushing all over the glass tabletop. His eyes are just wide enough that you pick up on the irregularity. His free hand starts tapping what could either be a tune he's had on his mind all day or Morse Code.

He stammers three mismatched syllables before he catches himself, thumps one beat harder than the rest, and looks away.

"Dame," you try, gently, "it's just me. You don't have to be nervous. Doesn't matter what you say."

And it doesn't. Is there a chance that your heart will shatter so loudly that he'll hear it if he says no? Perhaps. Have you been head over heals for him for a shamefully long time? Maybe. But even if it was some kind of slip up, a mistake he's dreading the consequences of, he needs to know you'll accept it. Weather he loves you back or not, you're still his best friend.

He swallows hard. Nods once. You're right. He knows it. You're always right about this stuff. He used to hate it, used to try about outsmart you, but nowadays he's more than happy to let you take the wheel when it comes to these messy emotions and human bonds. He takes your advice over anyone else.

It's just you. You're patient, kind, warm. He couldn't coax you to shun him if he tried. You've proven that more than once over the years.

"I meant it," he says suddenly. A lightning strike of bravery. "I mean, I– meant, I was–"

You see the immediate panic that rises when he thinks he's spoken too quickly. He's always so calculated, his words always measured exactly. He feels it keeps him in control, to some degree. To slip up like this, it's like the rumbling thunder of doubt.

It's instinct that drives you to reach across the table and cover his free hand—still tapping rapidly—with your own. "Hey, Dame, take a breath."

His eyes lock with yours again and, because he trusts you without a shadow of doubt, he does as he's asked without a second thought.

Your thumb runs over the side of his hand. "It's okay. I'm glad." You offer a half shrug and a smile so blinding that he's sure the sun has shifted. "I like it. I want it. To be your girlfriend, I mean."

He feels dizzy. He feels very much like he'd float right out of his chair if you let go of his hand. Your tender gaze doesn't help him much, either. It's tunnel vision, like he can't see a single damned thing outside of your portrait.

He sucks in another breath. "Does–? Does that mean we're– dating? Officially?"

You'd really like to laugh. Under any other circumstance, you'd howl at the sight of Damian Wayne, eyes as wide and glittery as a child, leaned over the table as though you're about to tell him the most magnificent secret ever. But you don't. For a few reasons.

Firstly, you'd also very much like to cry. It's a rush of emotion to see him so gleeful over you. Your lungs swells painfully in your chest, and it pushes your heart halfway up your throat. You're a few words away from choking on it.

Secondly, you know he'd take it the wrong way. He'd see it as mocking, no matter how much insisted it wasn't. Expressing himself so openly and without hesitation, as he is now, is something it has taken him years to relearn, and that's nothing to laugh at.

So, instead, you nod. There are crystals at the corners of your eyes and you can't stop smiling, so you nod happily and bounce put of your seat when he just about leaps the table.

He wraps his arms around you, squeezing like he'll never have another chance. The realization that he might be thinking just that spurs you on to hold him even tighter.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

All my kitty!lino AUs

Warnings: prostitution, slavery. 

AU 1:

minho is a prized breeding kitty that you're hired to guard as he is a very rare and pure breed and having him breed other pure kitties makes for very profitable offspring

as a result of being treated like royalty all his life, he's super rude to you, a common guard dog

he's always snarky with you and he never listens and you have enough of it one day

you push him down to the floor, your teeth grazing against his delicate neck, showing him that you were not someone to be trampled on

"that's right. you have nothing to say now, brat." you growl, sitting up to look at the frightened kitty

but as you sit back, your ass comes into contact with his boner

arching an eyebrow, you smirk and roll your hips over his clothed dick "now what do we have here?"

minho stays silent, frowning but not making any attempt to push you off

"don't tell me you like this." you tease him, grinding against him harder and pulling breathy little moans from his pouty lips "kitty likes it when I'm mean to him?"

"Yeah you like that pretty kitty? Are you gonna make a mess in your pants for me? Good boy."

you make him cum like that without even touching his dick

minho is shameless after that brazenly getting on your nerves so you'd punish him

he gets so needy that now you're getting him off on the daily, letting him hump your thighs to get off while you degrade him

his insatiable need would be bad enough but now he's outright refusing to breed the cat hybrids anymore

no matter how many times you try to convince the stubborn idiot that he's going to draw attention and ruin you both, he still refuses

until finally you make a deal with him that you'll have sex with him if he continues breeding the cats

he's not fully convinced. why would he waste his seed on other women when you were right there?

"because I'm not your kind, you stupid cat."

but minho doesn't care. all he cares about is getting to breed you

"Fuck you're burning up. Are you going into heat over this? Dumb little kitten thinks he can put babies in my belly."

your words only make him fuck you harder as if he could do it if he tried hard enough

AU 2:

he's the prince's very picky kitty, rarely is a cat good enough for him. he rarely mates at all and the prince doesn't understand it one bit

one day they're walking around shopping in the bazaar when lino catches a whiff of your scent. he follows it to a shady part of the market that he never saw before

that's when he sees you standing there with a heavy chair around your neck and a cheap transparent dress over your body

out of nowhere a short disgusting man appear and he asks him if he wants to see your tits. it's only for a couple of coins

minho shouldn’t say yes. He has a whole harem of much better bred pussies for him to pick and choose from. He didn’t need to pay a disgusting man to see the body of some nameless mongrel

yet here he was hanging the slimey man the coins

the man all but rips your bodice open, eager to please the rich hybrid.

Minho feels an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. His mouth waters at the sight of your full breasts on display for him and he finds himself moving forward to touch, but the man steps in.

“The silver was to see not to touch. Three if you want to touch.”

Minho grunts and gives him what he wants. you don't seem impressed by him.

He cradles your breasts in his hands and leans down to pluck a pert nipple into his mouth, ear perked to the sound of your restrained gasp.

but then he hears the prince calling for him and he rips himself away from you and wipes his mouth harshly, panting as if he was under a spell.

Gulping, he spares your half naked form one last glance before he’s retreating towards his owner. As he slips back into the main room he hears the vendor call after him smugly, “We’ll be waiting for you, my lord.”

He does come back, this time more worked up than last time as he couldn't go to sleep thinking about you and he was reduced to getting himself off multiple time throughout the night just to cool down

his owner catches him this time though. "So this is why you were so eager to come back even though you hate the market. I gotta say I'm surprised by your taste." The prince grins. "Did you mount her yet?"

Minho blanches, feeling humiliated at being caught "of course not. I would never defile myself with such a mongrel."

The prince arches an eyebrow. "It's okay minho. Sometimes you need to slum it down a little. I get that urge too. Cheap prostitutes like her have their draw."

The prince grabs you and pushes her over a table, pulling your skirt up. "Come on kitty. Take her. I know you're dying to."

minho's hesitation evaporate when he sees your pussy exposed and waiting for him. he quickly comes up beind you, pushing his length into you even though you weren't wet. it's uncomfortable but it's not the first time a man shoves his dick into your pussy without bothering to get you wet

it's over soon anyway, the spoiled cat getting overwhelmed by your tight walls and ends up cumming embarrassingly fast. He stumbles away, watching his cum drip from your fucked out hole.

"We'll take her."

Minho looks at him shocked. "I finally have something for my precious pet to fuck. You're so picky."

AU 3:

You were standing outside the gymnasium for a quick smoke when a voice slurs behind you. "Where is your little boyfriend?"

You roll your eyes, already fed up with the boy that is talking to you.

"What, he couldn't stand the thought of fucking you tonight so he ran away?"

You narrow your eyes at him. How did he know you were planning to give your virginity to your Hyunjin tonight? If he had shown up that is.

You don't even know what minho's deal is. He wasn't always like this. You remember a time long, long ago when the two of you were friends. He was so nice and sweet to you when you first met as kids. But then suddenly out of nowhere he turned on you for absolutely no reason.

"Tell me, mutt. What was he gonna give you so he could get between your legs? A pack of cigarettes?" Oh yeah, that’s why. He looks down on you for not being a purebred like him.

You huff the smoke in his face in agitation, still ignoring him.

"Aw, don't be sad. If he won't do it, I can rise to the occasion. Just tell me how much." He goads you. You throw the cigarette to the ground, violently snuffing it out with your heels when an idea pops into your head.

Looking up at him, you reply simply. "50k."

"W-what?"

"You're so fucking obsessed with my sex life so you must really want me. So yeah I'll give it to you for 50k."

"You're a crazy bitch."

you were just messing with him. and he worked. he left you alone

what you never expected was for him to show up the next day at your door, shoving a heavy suitcase into your arms

"what's this?"

"50k." He mumbles.

“Is this a joke?”

“You said you’d give it to me for 50k.” He explains flatly, looking everywhere except at you.

you walk towards him. "You really are a sick pervert, aren't you? Buying my virginity?"

He stays silent, looking at the ground so you grab his jaw and force him to look at you.

"You're not in control. I am. Got it?" You sneer, and he stares for a second, processing that you’re actually agreeing to go through with this, then he nods enthusiastically.

AU 4:

you're a dog hybrid and he's a cat hybrid. He's been kissing you secretly since long ago

You know it's wrong but you like it so you keep it a secret. and you always get so jealous when his heat comes and he goes away to fuck someone else.

When he comes back he's apologetic and spends days trying to make you forgive him. He shouldn't have to. He's not yours.

You touch yourself while you're sleeping next to him a lot. He pretends he doesn't know but it drives him insane

He's waits till you have your first heat. You're supposed to be given to chan but he convinces you not to let your owner know telling you he'll take care of you

You know this is forbidden but you let him fuck you because you're in love with him.

"Oppa this is too much."

"Shh baby take it. You've teased me long enough."

He cums in you but doesn't pull out so he can fuck you more. He's been training himself for this in order to satisfy you.

You get overwhelmed and he laughs at how cute you are. ask him to kiss you so he does

"What a cutie. All mine."

"Open your mouth." He lets a trail of spit fall from his mouth and you obediently open up and take it like you've been taught. He groans and kisses you softly. You whine in his mouth as he fucks you again.

"Not gonna go to that mutt right baby? Only I get to do this to you."

AU 5:

he's the queens pet and you're the leader of a mercenary group the queen has hired to fight a battle for her

he immediately takes an interest in you and follows you around thinking that he's slick

In the beginning, his infatuation was merely amusing to you as you took to teasing him whenever you got the chance--cornering him when the princess wasn't looking and whispering filthy things in his ear. It was both easy and fun to work up the needy kitten.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to walk in on you while you were fucking one of your own hybrids, Chan. The big wolf tended to get rowdy so you were often rough with him to keep him under control, and well that's how the masochistic hybrid liked it too.

You expected him to be terrified of you after that, he certainly looked the part, but he surprised you by coming to you teary eyes and whimpering pleas so moving that you couldn’t resist giving him whatever he asked for, which was badly worded and clueless seeing as he had never been in any kind of physical relationship before.

He’s never done something like this before. His owner, the queen, kept him on a tight leash, untouched and forever pure. He had been taking suppressants ever since his very first heat and, before he met you, he had barely remembered what it was like to feel that painfully delicious pang of pleasure in his belly.

He holds onto you as you pleasure him, one hand fisted in your clothes and the other wrapped around your wrist as if he was afraid you were going to hurt him. If you were to look at his expression, you would think that you were hurting him, a small frown on his face as he whines and whimpers.

You stroke his cheek softly with the back of your fingers, finding it hot to the touch. “What is it, kitten?”

“It hurts.” He sobs.

“I know, baby. I’ll make it go away.” You almost feel guilty for purposefully prolonging his pain, the stimulation you give his cock designed to make him reach the edge at the slowest possible pace, but the truth is you weren’t sorry at all.

“You know, kitten, you should come with me when I leave. I’ll hide you until we’re out of the castle walls. Your princess won’t even realize you’re missing until it’s too late, and when you’re with me, every moment will be filled with pleasure. I’ll take care of you like she never did. I’ll show you a whole world of pleasure. How does that sound, kitty?” You seduce as your thumb flits over his weeping slit, distracting him and seducing him. “Hmm, you wanna come with me?”

“I--I’m not--I don’t know.” He answers nervously, his brain too hazy especially as you finally speed up your strokes, jumbling up all his thought process.

“Don’t think too much, kitten. Don’t you want to feel good?” You purr, tightening your fist around his cock to give him more pleasure.

“Yes, but--”

“No buts, darling. Don’t you wanna be a good kitten for Master?” You ask, referring to yourself and he gasps, his cock jumps in your hand. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You’re a dirty little kitten, aren’t you?”

“No!” He cries, shaking his head from side to side, but there is no denying the way his stomach tightens and his hips buck off the bed as his orgasm approaches and his primal senses take over. “I can’t take it! Please, help me. I can’t--”

His seed splatters across his abdomen as he cums, and you talk him through it. “That’s it, baby. Let go for me. Let it all out. Good kitten.”

you ruin him so thoroughly that he gives into her and lets her fuck him in front of the queen herself

"Lino stop that! You sound like a common whore."

"I can't help it. Mistress… is making me burn up." "Ah fuck." He keens

"Your precious kitten is getting fucked regularly, that’s why he sounds like that. He’s nothing but a loose slut right now. I fucking ruined him. Isn’t that right, kitten?"

"Hah... touch my cock." He drools on the sheets under him and you laugh, grabbing his cock from underneath and starting to milk him. “See? Just a dumb slut.”

___________

A/N: one of these will most likely get a proper fic but I couldn’t keep these to myself

[svchengss]

king of hearts | d.sc

PAIRING. dong sicheng x reader

GENRE. high school!au, fluff, slight angst, kind of e2l

WARNINGS. none (lmk if i missed any!)

WORD COUNT. 6.7k

SUMMARY. sicheng’s subtle flirts are not working effectively but it only motivates him to try and woo you more. the devil sure works hard but dong sicheng works harder.

PLAYLIST. king of hearts

TAGLIST. @floraljae @clovdless @mashiihearts @ndr1271 @kunrengui (shoutout to mashi for being a major help in the process of writing this <3)

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

music was blaring through the multiple loudspeakers scattered around the school grounds, booths of various interests that were set-up by the clubs being swarmed by visitors and ecstatic oohs and aahs from the ones playing games can be heard intermittently. the annual school festival of redlands high, an event that is looked forward to by every single student there. or maybe not, you’re quite unsure of the self-made data.

you immediately made a beeline to the dance club booth which is managed by yangyang, the president also holding the title of your best friend. a cartoonish grin crept up on his face when he spots you walking towards him.

“so, what do you think? looks legit, huh?” he crossed his arms together, observing the design of the booth with a proud smile. the set-up is definitely eye-catching, not much decorations going on, adding to the simplicity of the white theme with gold touch-ups. you browsed through the plastered posters on the board, inviting people to sign up for their upcoming audition. looking up to the signboard hanging outside, you showed a thumbs up towards him, muttering a quick ‘perfect’.

“so what exactly is your booth doing? there’s not much… activity going on?” you scratched the non-existent itch on your left eyebrow. the boy in front of you gave you an eye roll before explaining that there will be mini dance games - or just dance as he worded. an amused sound left your lips as you bent down, dropping your signature in the guestbook on the wooden table.

“are you coming to the stage shows tonight? i heard there’s a new band performing,” your ears perked up instinctively upon hearing the words. after your sister graduated high school, nobody paid any attention to keep the band going. the zikas, a trio that made the music club strive back then. either the newer batches were too lazy to make an effort or too scared if they weren’t up to the already high standards of the school.

“i’m going if you’re going,” you simply stated, which made yangyang flash you the same grin from before. you said your simple goodbyes when people started lining up to try the just dance game at his booth. after he reminded you to wait for him by the statue, you went off to check out the food sales, eager to fill your growling stomach since this morning.

you can do this, sicheng. you can do this.

he made sure to double check the tuning of his guitar for one last time before joining the rest of his bandmates on the stage. his tall and slim physique surely left an impact, seeing that some of the audience suddenly became more invested in the performance compared to the others. he’s wearing some band’s shirt - probably green day since it’s quite similar to your sister’s posters in her room, black leather jacket and his black hair middle parted. not to miss the silver pendant necklace on his neck, sparkling under the spotlight.

the moment he struck the pick through the strings of his electric guitar, the drummer and bassist followed after, producing a melody that is pleasing to your ears. he held the microphone closer to his mouth, singing the lyrics as you bobbed your head up and down to the covers they sang - american idiot and helena are the ones you recognized since you’ve heard the songs so often. yangyang on the other hand kept on sipping the chocolate milkshake in his hand, vibing with the music as well.

the next song was a sentimental one which you assumed is a self-composed one, since you’ve never heard this song before. before you know it, the performance is over and the audience have started packing up their belongings to hang out somewhere else or go home.

“good job everyone, we did well,” yuta, who played the bass earlier, high-fived the rest of the band with a sly grin on his face. guanheng chugged the mineral water down his throat before stashing his drumsticks into the bag while sicheng was lost in his thoughts. he doesn’t know why but you stood out from the crowd, only able to see you just now. he wouldn’t say it’s a crush, not knowing anything about you but it definitely made him feel something. a trigger in his heart, not knowing where it leads to. but what he does know is that you caught his attention.

“and you know what he said? i’ll come back crawling to him just like his other exes. what the heck is even that?” you took out the binders from your locker while listening to ningning rant about her love life. since you haven’t had any relationships before, you’re not really a professional in this aspect of life so you just kept your mouth shut to avoid giving useless advice.

“that sounds so rude, he’s such a jerk,” you commented, taking the first bite of your sandwich afterwards. the tea-spilling session eventually came to an end when she reached her class first and you kept walking to mrs. walker’s, english being your first period. nothing exciting really happened in that class except someone got their phone confiscated for texting in class - just the usual things. classes later, it’s finally recess when you met up with ningning and yangyang in the cafeteria.

“first of all, cut him off. block him. everywhere,” yangyang emphasized the last word, knowing how much of an idiot the guy can be. you just scrolled through your socials, double tapping on certain posts that caught your eye. owning a cat looks fun, you made a mental note to bring the idea to your parents later. the bell rang which signals that classes are starting back soon and the same cycle of events continues before it’s time to go home.

you observed yangyang’s sharp moves, following to the beat of the song echoing in the dance room. it’s currently half past seven and he’s still here, beads of sweat running through his hair. and why would he stay in school so late, you may ask? obviously, he’s here for a reason and it being an upcoming dance tournament is the most accurate one. while you’re here, sitting on the floor, back against the mirror and legs straightened out with your phone in your hand. it amazes you how the goofy boy transforms 360°, being all serious when he’s in his element.

“let’s go home, i’m tired already,” he panted out breathlessly, using a cloth nearby to wipe his sweaty forehead. you wait for him by the glass door as he packs up his things when the lights in the music studio also switched off. you wondered it must be the band guys so you paid no attention whatsoever. of course, your predictions were right when you saw two lads stepping out.

since yangyang is taking too much time tidying up the dance studio and the music studio seems unoccupied, you decided to check it out for a bit. it’s been a long time since you last entered the room, always accompanying your sister for her extra practice when you were younger. not much has changed, except some additions of instruments can be seen. not seeing anything in the dark condition as the room is only illuminated by the faint lights from the hallway, you pushed the switches down only to be met by a gasp.

“what are you doing here?” the tall boy approached you, a stern look visible on his fine features. your eyes scrambled around the room in an attempt to find any logical excuses for your ‘break-in’ but to no avail. your tongue was dry, not a sound escaping your throat when you heard yangyang’s voice, signalling your cue to exit the room and escape from the tension building between you and the boy. he just shook his head, the black hair bouncing left to right as he finally caught on.

it’s you, you’re the girl from the crowd. and your name is y/n.

the walk home was filled with one-sided conversations where yangyang kept on babbling about how he should improve the choreography he created earlier while you only added small comments. your mind is filled with embarrassment, too much that you feel slightly mad at yourself. why didn’t you say anything earlier? now, you look like a complete idiot with communication issues in front of that boy.

“yeah, and remember that pasta? we should definitely try it again, it’s like, so good,” yangyang said, earning a nod from you when you saw the boy from last night’s music studio tragedy approaching your table. you tried to look away but it was too late.

“dude, just wanna let you know that mr. park is seeing us after school,” your grip on your fork loosens up when you realized he wasn’t talking to you. maybe he forgot about the incident? you really hope so.

“yeah, totally. thanks sicheng,” yangyang playfully winked at the latter, earning a disgusted look from him who started walking away. he glanced back at you with a smug smile on his plump lips, making you freeze up again.

he didn’t.

“are you okay, y/n? feeling sick?” ningning furrowed her eyebrows upon seeing your sudden change of demeanor. you shrugged her off and continued to consume the macaroni placed on the tray in front of you, mentally cursing at yourself for the poor life choice you’d made. well, at least you know that his name is sicheng, right?

oh boy, you’re in for a long ride.

you can’t wait to go home and snuggle under the covers, today has been a long and tiring one for you. you had three pop quizzes as if all the three teachers intended so, your class had to run multiple laps during p.e. and so on. you’re already planning your routine in your head, trudging your way to the lockers when you saw him leaning against yours, scrolling down his phone.

“crap,” you muttered under your breath.

there it is, the smirk on his face returns when he spots your figure approaching. oh, how you wish you could wipe it off his face. he moved a couple steps backwards to give you some space to arrange your things before locking it, turning your head towards him.

“i’m sorry, why are you here again? and if it’s because of last night, then i’m sorry if it bothered you or anything,” you huffed out.

“what? i didn’t really care, it’s not like you were stealing anything, right?” he squinted his eyes, eyeing you up and down suspiciously, laughing shortly after seeing you get riled up.

“damn, you really need to learn how to take a joke. y/n, right? i’m sicheng, nice to meet you.”

“why exactly are we having this meet-and-greet or whatever this introduction is?” you crossed your arms, waiting for his response. but he didn’t, immediately turning on his heels and making his way towards the stairs, probably going to the studio.

“jerk,” you cursed under your breath, walking out the school building.

“what? you got accepted? seriously?” ningning’s voice echoed against the cafeteria walls, earning surprised and annoyed glances from other students who were either satisfying their grumbling stomach or simply having conversations. yangyang softly nudged her elbows using his, asking her to lower her voice down before telling you to go on. you were quite surprised as well, the acceptance email was not what you expected to receive. when you filled in the application form, it was just a mere shoot-your-shot agenda to see if you’d make the cut. although this is just a camp, you’re still unsure of what lies ahead.

“yeah, it starts next week. but i’m so nervous though,” you sipped the iced coffee in your hands. you’ve only watched videos of people producing their own music from scratch which you start to take an interest in. however, you’ve never done it hands-on before, only having basic music theory knowledge thanks to the piano lessons your parents signed you up for when you were young.

“you’ll do awesome, i promise,” yangyang gave you a reassuring smile, making you release some tension from the overthinking you’ve had since you received the email last night.

“thanks yang.”

now, here you are on the first day of attending the internship camp. you stood in front of the tall mirror hanging on the wall, straightening your cardigan and applying some makeup onto your face as touch-ups. it’s currently 7:40 in the morning, the earliest time you’ve ever woken up on a saturday. your siblings are still swallowed in their states of sleep. you double-checked the contents in your tote bag, making sure that no important things are left behind. you totally don’t intend on leaving a bad first impression on your first day.

after bidding a swift goodbye to your parents who just woke up, you drove your mother’s old honda to the completely new destination - mbyte studios. the tall building with light grey and blue painted walls definitely made it stand out, a futuristic look catching the eyes of the passersby. taking a deep breath, you entered the main lobby before being escorted to a room on the second floor. you assume it’s a waiting room for all participants of the camp, scanning that majority of the occupiers might be college students. you thanked god that the camp takes place on weekends so your high school senior life won’t be interrupted that much.

DAY 1

your eyes widened when you spot sicheng with the same white and blue tag you’re wearing, seated on the sofa. what the hell is he doing here? you avoided acknowledging his presence, trying to make yourself as unnoticed as possible heading over to occupy the seat farthest from his. after quite some time staring at the paintings hanging on the wall, a middle-aged lady with a petite figure entered the room, making you sit up straight.

“welcome to mbyte studios! i’m the assistant director, mrs. hwang. first and foremost, congratulations on being accepted. it’ a pleasure to witness the start of your musical journey embarking here. i believe that we should know each other first?” she gestured for any volunteers. sicheng stood up from his seat, charisma evident in his stance which left quite an impression on the others. the strong confidence in the way he speaks made the woman smile amusingly.

some names later, it was your turn to introduce yourself. the moment you stood up, he immediately recognized you and you were sure you caught him making some faces. the ice-breaking session went well thankfully, mrs. hwang elaborating on the social rules and the itinerary throughout the whole six days. one that caught your attention was assisting the producers on making a track from scratch, just like you had dreamed of.

when it was finally time for lunch break, you shot up from your seat to get away from sicheng as fast as possible but to your dismay, he beat you to it, jogging up towards your standing position.

“i didn’t know you were into music, what’s the sudden occasion?”

“it’s none of your business actually,” you sneered back, obviously not favouring his attention.

“woah, relax. you’ve got quite a temper, don’t you? by the way, we’re having lunch together,” he placed his phone onto a nearby table, pulling a chair for you.

“just eat on your own, i don’t have the appetite,” you flash a sarcastic grin before disappearing into the women’s restroom. he just laughed bitterly at your response before walking towards the food counter, joining his newly made friend, jaehyun. being the same age, they’re easy to click.

DAY 2

“today, we’ll be focusing on the recording process. you’ll be assigned into groups that will have a tour of the whole department. our staff will facilitate each group,” the manager said loud and clear. you remembered his name was johnny. the tattoo on his shoulder really stands out, considering the fact that he’s always wearing a sleeveless shirt.

but what are the odds when your groupmate is none other than the guy himself, sicheng. it’s like the universe truly resented you for having to be associated with him at any event. your group was escorted to the farthest recording studio on the floor. to say that this was a great experience is truly an understatement, making you observe the gears used in astonishment. you hate to admit it but sicheng has a handful of knowledge on this particular topic, always correctly answering the questions directed by the staff. maybe it wasn’t quite surprising upon knowing that his career choice is a singer, not that you care anyways.

again, nothing out of the ordinary happened today, except that you and sicheng had lunch on the same table. of course, it’s not that you accepted his offer but he welcomed himself to the spot. being the quickly favoured participant among the rest, obviously they welcomed him with open hands. he placed himself among the two guys sitting at the right corner, eyeing you whose eyes are still not leaving the article you were skimming through. with the last spoon of food shoved into your mouth, you quietly excused yourself from the group. sicheng just watched your movements in subtle signs of annoyance.

with the final task of doing microphone check-ups, day two of the camp ended with a breeze. you can’t wait to go home, get into a warm bath and spend the night watching netflix. it was a tiring one indeed but you’re not one to complain. pushing the car keys into the ignition slot, the sound of the engine starting is still nowhere to be heard even after a couple of retries. you rested your forehead onto the steering wheel, cursing silently in your head, having to get a taxi and call your mother about this incident. you’re sure to be receiving a handful from her, not to mention her soft but stingful remarks.

“hey, are you okay?” a deep voice interrupts your stressful state of mind. looking up, it’s sicheng with a concerned look on display. you hesitantly shared your problem, making him press his lips together probably thinking of a solution.

“you know, i don’t really know how to fix your broken engine or whatever but i know someone who can. let me just ring him for a sec. and you’re coming home with me.”

and that’s how you ended up in the front passenger seat, sicheng steering with one hand and the other rested on the windowsill. the faint music from the radio can be heard, probably a song by jon vinyl. you’d steal quick glances to see his other hand dancing in the air, enjoying the rhythm of the song playing. besides that, it was silent as both of you are preoccupied with your own things - sicheng on the road while you on your phone. he tried to make small talk but you would say it’s unrequited, only replying with short sentences. after a good ten minutes drive, the sight of your brown painted gate becomes a sign for him to stop the moving car.

“your car is safe with my friend so you shouldn’t worry about it or anything. also, what’s your number? it’ll be easier for, you know the car business of course,” he reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt, handing over his phone to you after. the close proximity made your breath hitch, the dewy scent of his perfume diffusing into your nose. not too strong, he has a good taste.

“thanks and um, i’ll buy you a drink later. just for today.”

“are you asking me on a date?” there it is, the significant tug on the side of his lips making its presence once again.

“stop being so narcissistic and move along please,” you rolled your eyes before giving him a small wave, stepping into your property. sicheng stared at the numerals on his phone screen, a small, proud grin etched on before driving off the lane.

“how was the camp? met any cute boys?” the first thing you hear in the hue of the blue monday morning is ningning’s chirpy voice. sometimes you wonder how she gets all boosted up at this hour of the day. yangyang is the polar opposite, his appearance as if he just got out of bed, the hood of his denim jacket resting on top of his auburn hair.

“it was good and no, no cute boys. but sicheng was there,” you replied nonchalantly, a mischievous grin crept onto her lips. you can almost predict the words that are going to spill out of her mouth.

“what’s up with her?” yangyang yawned, his eyes lazily gaze at you. you just lifted your shoulders, having no idea whatsoever. a ping sound was heard from your phone, notifying that a new message is received.

unknown: hey sicheng here

unknown: ur car may be ready tmr. want me to drive u there?

listening to your heart, you were about to type ‘no’ but remembering the fact that your parents will be busy the whole day tomorrow and yangyang is coming home late once again, you have no choice but to accept the lad’s help.

now you’re back in his vehicle, the same spot as before. you’ve only noticed now that a musical note charm is hung on the rearview mirror, a semiquaver to be exact. you’d say that it looks authentic, gold specks shining when sun rays hit the surface. observing the interior of his car, there are quite a number of small decorations.

“can we get coffee first? my treat for the car and the ride,” you suggested, looking at him whose eyes are focused onto the road. the traffic is quite pleasing today, nobody honking mindlessly at the other drivers and flipping each other off with the famous middle finger gesture. his side profile does look charming, some type of earrings dangling from his ears. if you’re going to be honest, his appearance does seem to be your type. you’re not one to say about his persona though, always managing to bother you at any time of the day.

“sure, wanna go to the new cafe? i heard it’s good,”. you just nodded while he skillfully steered the steering wheel, moving the car to the new destination. you turned your eyes to look outside from the car window, seeing the one hundred and one manners of the citizens. a mother struggling to take her child who’s having a tantrum out of the toy shop, a young couple having their romantic meal in the french cafe. the motion of the car stopping awakened you who was being distracted by your clouded mind.

from the moment you stepped into the place, the interior caught your attention. the light brown painted walls with black furniture complementing each other perfectly, making a retro-like appearance. the funky song playing faintly in the background surely is a mood-setter, just how you like it. even the barista serving you is being friendly, making a couple of small talk in the midst of operating the machines.

you would say that it was a pleasureful day for you. the exquisite taste of latte washing down your dry throat, getting your car back without too much babbling from your dear mother and the gap between you and sicheng closing in for a little.

the last sentence baffled you for a second.

DAY 3

sicheng’s eyes shot open from the short slumber he was trying to get - failing miserably even, upon spotting you enter through the door. he pulled the chair beside him in hopes for you to get his message and take the seat. a frown made its way onto his face when you just waved at him, making your way to another spot a few chairs to the front. he scoffed, head tilting slightly before approaching you instead. you shot him a puzzled look, roughly translating to ask him what he’s doing here.

“i just want to be close to you. now focus,” he redirected his eyes onto the muscular man who just entered the room. he’s a songwriter - the best one in this company to be exact. you were focused on each point he explained, making small notes on your laptop. it’s not always that you’ll get a chance to be guided by a four-time award winning songwriter, might as well gain some benefits from it.

“another tip i have is to use all types of chords. remember, do not stick to the same ones, you’ll lack creativity. for instance, use major, minor, dominant, diminished, and augmented. i promise you, more ideas will be flowing and better quality songs will be produced. you got me?” the questioned, earning buzzing sounds of positive responses from the hall.

DAY 4

another day of group work, you’re given the task to create a melody according to the themes given - for your group, it’s love. looking at sicheng, he’s already on his electric guitar, strumming mindlessly to find the perfect note to start on. the rest of you are now juicing out some thoughts on this particular sense of human nature.

“love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all,” jaehyun suggests, earning nods of approval from the rest of your groupmates.

“you’re a pro at this, mr. romantic,” you teased him, earning a soft chuckle. a dimpled smile is etched onto his features, rosy cheeks and his eye smile making you fawn. prince-like visual and a sense of humour? a two in one package, totally.

“not really. i guess i’m a sucker for romance movies,” he rubbed the back of his neck. your small conversation came to a halt when you heard a crooked, loud sound coming from the rough strum on the guitar strings. you turned around to see sicheng gazing directly towards the both of you, a sharp one even. jaehyun just blinked his eyes before catching onto the situation unfolding in front of him while you’re still being completely oblivious. you tilted your head in confusion, unsure of what’s gotten into him.

it’s the day that yangyang has been looking forward to since the past few weeks, his dance tournament. you’re seated with ningning on the bleachers, music from the loudspeakers echoing through the walls. with the cheers of the bewatchers whenever someone captivated them with a trick or dance move, usually the risky ones, it truly is a loud atmosphere.

“now, welcoming contestant number 43 to take the stage,” the host announced, you and ningning clapped with all your might, shouting words of encouragement as well. yangyang took a deep breath before lifting his right hand up, cueing for the music to start playing. just then, there’s the sound of someone plopping down on the hard surface next to you - sicheng. he’s looking casual today, a light yellow hoodie replacing his usual dark clothings.

“what are you doing here?” you shout whispered while ningning raised her eyebrows at you.

“didn’t yangyang tell you? i’m here to watch him dance,” he countered your question before darting his eyes back to the boy who’s busy popping on the dance floor, tinashe’s song playing in the background. he ended his routine with a moonwalk, making his way to the end of the stage. you’re confident that he’s going to win the competition, looking at how precise and clean his moves were. all the late night practices he had eventually paid off when he’s announced as the second placer. nonetheless, he’s still proud of himself, not to mention you and ningning who have been with him throughout his whole journey.

“you did well,” sicheng welcomed him with a fist bump which he reciprocated back. you didn’t know that they were this good of friends.

“i’m starving,” he rubbed his hand onto his stomach, making you remember that your stomach has been rumbling since you only ate a cereal bar that morning. you were about to catch up to yangyang and ningning who were walking fast ahead when you felt a tug on your shirt, looking down to see sicheng crouching down to tie your loose shoelaces.

“you might fall,” he placed his hands into the pockets of his hoodies, waiting for you to come along.

“um, thanks,” you muttered out before catching the glances given by your friends, later teasing you about the scene.

roars of students can be heard coherently, filling the basketball court. the basketball captain, a tall one with black charcoal hair is shooting a three-pointer. the players are then called over to their respective sides for whatever strategy their coaches will be implementing in the third-quarter. the home team is currently leading by five points, knowing that the players wearing the significant red and black jersey have been training their asses off for a while now.

but why exactly did you come to the game tonight? besides from the main event happening in the moment, the other reason is now standing in his position, strumming his electric guitar producing a funky sound that vibrates through the walls - a cue for the start of another buzzing stage. sicheng has been bugging you about watching him perform tonight and after quite some time evaluating, why not? when he finally caught you among the crowd, he flashed you a flirtatious wink. right before the band bowed as gratitude to the audience, he gave you a gesture to wait for him at the back of the gym.

“you came! but seriously, thank you,” he rested the sparkly white guitar against the wall, enveloping you into a hug. this is new, you tried to hide the flustered state of yours as you reciprocated his movement. from the corner of your eyes, you can see a black-haired guy approaching the two of you, followed by one with long, white hair and a bandana nicely keeping the fluffy strands in tact.

“ooh, who’s this?” the first one wiggled his eyebrows, later introducing himself as guanheng, the latter named yuta. to your surprise, the bond between you and them are quick to form with guanheng piloting the conversation. not to mention his subtle jokes making you giggle at times.

“well y/n, your little boyfriend here is getting jealous so we’ll excuse ourselves for now. see you whenever,” guanheng banging his drumsticks into the air while yuta gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the store room of the gymnasium. the nickname they gave sicheng surely made you a bit shy.

boyfriend?

DAY 5

you’re seated in front of the computer screen, your chin resting on the palm of your hands and the tabs of different colours left untouched. you redirected your gaze onto the projector screen, the words ‘arrange, mix, edit and master like a pro’ on it. a long sigh leaving your lips, you try to remember what the producer said earlier.

don’t make the song sound too repetitive

a good buildup promises a good melody

you can have a certain instrument playing only on one part for cinematic impact

DAY 6

“i’m hyo and you’re,” she moved the wheels of her chair to the back a bit to take another look at the clipboard resting on the desk, “sicheng, y/n and jaehyun, right?” the three of you nodded in harmony, anticipating for the next order that will be given.

“okay cool, we’ll be brainstorming first,” and she proceeded to explain what the requirements for this project are. you mouthed out the important points she gave, soft rock, heartbreak and drums. you’re on a roll today, contributing your countless ideas during the first few minutes of the discussion. sicheng just looked at you discussing with hyo, your lips pursed slightly. his gaze seems full of adoration, even jaehyun said so.

“any objections?” hyo looked over to the rest.

“i think she made some great ones. i’m sure this project will come out fresh,” jaehyun voiced out his opinions, sicheng nodding after. he went straight to handling the instruments , you and jaehyun collaborating for the mixing process. hyo eventually chimed in on some times, giving small advice whenever you seem stuck in the brain. with the hours ticking by, you’re feeling more satisfied than ever with your earphones in, listening to the final product created.

all of the participants are then assembled in the hall again, waiting for a final speech by the director which formalizes the end of the camp. sure, you’ve earned worthy knowledge throughout the six days. but if you’re being brutally true to the sound of your heart, it would be how you came to learn sicheng’s true antics. he might be the cocky guy who thinks they have the power to do anything but in truth, he’s just some guy with an honest heart, honest intentions to know you better.

summer break, your most anticipated event for the past few weeks. the moment the last bell rang, that scene in high school musical 2 kept replaying in the back of your head, the students doing a parade in front of the lockers picturing how your little heart is doing backflips in your chest right now. all the beach trips ningning planned is making you feel dizzy. you turned around to a voice calling out your name from the end of the hallway, your eyes catching the sight of sicheng jogging towards your spot. he stopped in front of you, hands on his knees catching his breath.

“are you free tomorrow night? there’s a party at guanheng’s and you know, it would be really cool if you join,” his fingers tracing onto each other, waiting patiently for your response.

you didn’t even have the time to process his invitation when ningning crashed her body against yours, yangyang following suit.

“a party? y/n would totally love to come, right?” ningning nudged your arms softly while yangyang tried to stifle a giggle. you were about to mouth out a ‘what?’ before sicheng cut you off.

“cool, you guys should come too. tomorrow at 10,” he and yangyang exchanged finger guns gestures before leaving the three of you. you just stood there in disbelief, eyeing them up and down before ningning dragged you to the parking lot. a stringful of grumbles escaped your lips, making the guy laugh obnoxiously.

“i can’t believe you guys did that,” you extended the seat belt, buckling it to the slot beside you.

“please. but you do want it, right?” you can’t deny, what she said was true. plus, you should have some fun and distress before having to go back to the usual dull routine of yours.

“how do i look?” you turn around, revealing the baby pink crop top and flare pants on your legs. it’s not your best outfit but giving the cliche excuse - you have nothing to wear, the two articles totally complements each other

“you look hot, that’s all i gotta say. right, yang?” ningning lifted her head from the headboard, glancing over at yangyang who’s going over his messages.

“yeah totally,” he lifted his hands, giving you a thumbs up. you threw a jacket onto your shoulders and grabbed the black purse on your dresser, glancing at the wall mirror one last time.

from the moment you stepped into the venue - guanheng’s place, smells of alcohol lingered around your nose, a group of people cheering ever so loudly over a game of beer pong, some already passed out on the couch. not to mention a brownish stain on the carpet - probably from someone throwing up. the mess would take a whole day to get rid off, you note to yourself. your friends are no longer to be found, both of them getting affiliated with god knows what. your eyes scanned the living room for sicheng but his presence is still nowhere to be found.

you decided to step towards the kitchen bar, pouring a drink for yourself. the mixed sweet and sour taste of it remained on your tongue for a couple of seconds. looking over at the snacks served, you grabbed a strawberry flavoured lollipop from the clear bowl. the crowd is cheering loudly for some type of incident happening at the back of the room, the music has been turned up to be a little louder than the volume before and you’re suddenly getting a little bit overwhelmed. you grabbed your purse and stepped out, inhaling some fresh air and looking up to the starry night sky.

“y/n? where have you been?” sicheng approached you from behind, making you a bit startled.

“sorry, hanging out outside can calm me. where did you go?” you popped the lollipop into your mouth.

“some jerk decided to throw up in front of me,” you pinched your nose with a disgusted expression, making him roll his eyes.

“do you want me to accompany you out here?” he offered. you just nod your head, placing yourself on the patio with him following suit. the sweetening flavour empowering your senses. it’s definitely much more calm out here, allowing you to clear up your mind. it’s not that you hate the atmosphere in the house right now, you’re just not in the mood.

“you know, you look pretty,” you turned around to meet his face. his brown eyes brimming with unconfessed love.

“shut up, stop with the jokes,” you lightly land a smack on his arms.

“what if i say i’m not joking?” he looked straight into your eyes, trying to find any emotion inside you. the sudden seriousness is making you feel much more awkward so you forced out a laugh, turning your attention right back upwards. the stars are shining brightly tonight, you can almost spot a constellation.

“i know what you’re doing, dong sicheng. just stop it already, it’s not working on me.” denial, that’s what you’re experiencing in the hot minute.

a gentle tug can be felt on your wrist, his eyes still not leaving yours.

“didn’t anyone tell you before? you’re really pretty. like, i can’t even describe it to you. you’re just,” he leaned over to caress your cheeks, “pretty,”.

what jaehyun said on the other day is true, after all.

love gives us thrill, the feeling of excitement, the feeling when you’re uncertain about something but when you have that special someone with you, you’re sure to wing it all.

your heart is beating so fast, it could fall out of your chest at any moment now. even the faint music blasting through the speakers inside the house can’t flush down the sound of your heartbeat. you’re not used to this, the sudden need of the significant skin to skin contact that symbolizes love between two individuals.

“can i?” his face in a very near proximity from yours, whispering into your right ear with his honey-like voice. you pulled the candy away from your mouth and nod, giving him the approval he needed before he dived in. heat rose from your stomach to your chest. you could only focus on how soft his crimson lips felt on yours, invading your privacy by all senses. you felt the kiss expand beyond your bodies, whirling you round, swirling you into the stars. he pulled away with a soft smile, you thought you could melt right then and there.

“wow,” that was the only word escaping your throat. your jumping heart still hasn’t settled down yet, your very first kiss still feeling surreal. you could see that sicheng is very much mirroring your emotions, his slender fingers grazing over his lips - the one that has come in contact with yours.

“the strawberry lollipop is sweet,” he commented, making the both of you laugh.

a ping from your phone awakened you from the gushy eye contact with him, unlocking it only to find yangyang’s text message. the second part of it made you fluster.

yang: yo r u coming in or what? and congrats for the kiss, we thought we’d have to wait longer for this

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Agent Zero —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: If I make you cringe with some of my choices I apologize but not so much bc I did say all my fics are written first and foremost to please me lmao -Danny

Words: 1,833

Phase Four Masterlist

Previous chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘(Wish I Didn’t Have To) Lie’ -by Catie Turner ft. JORDY

ii: M.O.U.S.E.

Cat was welcomed by none other than Maria Hill. She smiled at the woman and the agent eyed her with a look of satisfaction.

"Right on time."

"Were you expecting me to arrive in pajamas and with a hangover?"

Hill adopted a more serious expression as she guided her to one of the elevators.

"Well, you're twenty-one—"

"Twenty-two," Cat squinted. "I think. Sorry, I spent three years in space and sometimes I get confused... but I'm pretty sure I'm over twenty, anyway."

Hill handed her a pad and pointed at it. "Well, you know S.H.I.E.L.D will welcome you with open arms, but an agent does far more work than an Avenger."

They entered the elevator, it was completely empty so Cat changed the subject to the part she was most interested in.

"If I'm honest, I'd love to be busy for a while, it's not like I have anything else going on. I do hope the pay's decent, I got a few bills to settle."

The older agent looked at her with no discernable emotion, but her voice was a little softer once she spoke. "How are the others?"

By "others" Cat assumed she meant the remaining heroes: Barton, Banner, Thor... She knew Wanda was somewhere upstate, but her guilt didn't allow her to build a meaningful friendship with the redhead.

"You're worried about us? I didn't take you for the motherly kind, Hill."

The agent shook her head. "You've grown, but you haven't changed."

The doors of the elevator opened, and Fury was directly outside, waiting for them.

"Agent," he greeted, "been a while."

"You and your theatrics," Cat grinned. "How long have you been standing there waiting so you could make an entrance?"

He raised a brow. "Watch your mouth, kid, you can't talk to your boss like that."

"Oh, so I'm hired? I don't remember signing any papers..."

"Talking about papers..." Fury guided her through the hall with Hill walking behind them. "Tony's will has been read and delivered for the most part, with the exception of your part as well as Peter Parker's."

She'd been expecting to hear his name at some point, yet the mention caused her stomach to drop.

"Tony died months ago," Cat frowned.

"We are not a law firm, delivering wills isn't our job. The only reason why we're the ones calling is that Mrs. Potts told us you weren't answering her calls."

"I thought she was trying to make me visit," Cat mumbled, "I'm not up for it."

Fury didn't bother to ask why, instead, he continued explaining what they'd been doing all those months. "We've been trying to catch up. Now that we got a decent hang of things, we can finally move onward."

"You guys would've caught up way faster with me on your team," she pointed out, "but your pride stopped you from admitting you needed the help of your youngest trainee."

Fury stopped in front of a door that had his name with the word "Director" under it. He walked in, Cat moved forward and looked around: The office was nothing out of the ordinary, with a desk and chairs, as well as two file cabinets in the corner of the room. All the wide windows, displaying a breathtaking sight of the city, only got a silent five-second glance. She walked directly to a chair and sat down waiting for the others to join her.

"I thought you'd pick a fancier setting," Cat said shortly.

"You don't like the new premises?"

"They're okay."

Fury scoffed. "You go to space once and suddenly nothing pleases you."

"I never said that," she smiled. "Let's circle back to Tony, alright? What do I have to sign?"

Hill took the pad from her hands and typed a few things in, a copy of the papers was shown to her, and she read it quickly.

"Sweet," Cat looked up. "How are you guys supposed to give an A.I. to me? Is it in a pen drive or something?"

Fury opened a drawer and pulled out two small packages: One was a case, and the other was a small square box. Fury pushed the latter forward, Cat looked inside.

"A... watch?" She tilted her head. "Now wait— Well, it's something..."

"And this..." Fury grabbed the other case and stared at it. "We know Parker is a friend of yours. Any idea as to why Tony left this for him?"

Cat raised a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

Fury looked at her. "Just making sure."

The girl put her watch —or earpiece, whatever it was— back in the box.

"Are you going to hire me as an agent?"

"Is that what you want?"

"It's what I'm best at."

He grabbed a file from the table and handed it to her. "Why don't you start with this, then?"

Cat barely skimmed through the first few paragraphs when she realized the file was about her, of her time as New York's most deadly vigilante. The girl placed the papers back on the smooth surface with a heartless expression.

"Yeah, I might know who that is..."

"You can't do that again if you're going to work for us," Fury supported both hands on the table. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir," she looked at him without any remorse. "I was keeping the city safe, that was all."

"We're back, so there's no need for that now," he pushed the file toward her again, "read it well, take it home with you if you must. Think of all the damage you caused while you were 'keeping the city safe'. I will only hire you if I'm sure you can follow our rules to a T."

Cat grabbed the file and her A.I. She wanted to ask about Peter, were they going to try and hire him too? She didn't want to make Fury think she cared.

Cat stood outside the building for a second too long, before she could walk away a man spoke in a rather excited voice.

"Cat!" Happy was carrying a few boxes like the one she had in her arms. "I've been trying to call you for days!"

"Hey," she smiled awkwardly, "sorry, I've been busy. I don't know, I felt like I was only going to waste your time."

The man frowned. "I was the one calling."

"No yeah, but... when I was younger you'd call to see if I was at Peter's, to know if I needed something," they walked into the building, "I keep telling myself 'he's just calling out of habit, it's better if you don't pick up'..."

Happy stopped so she had to as well. "Cat, being your caretaker is one of the best things that's ever happened to me. I already lost a friend, don't take this away from me too."

She gave him a tired smile, trying not to drop the box she was holding. "If I didn't have my hands full, I'd hug you."

"I know, that's why I'm saying it now," he chuckled, "we're too awkward for that, don't you think?"

Cat laughed. "Maybe. But that was a sweet thing to say, man. Thank you. But I can assure you it's been a few years since trouble's all I've been able to cause—"

"About time!" May received them in the hall, Cat almost dropped her stuff and ran out of the building.

"May," she said stupidly. "Hi. All good?"

"Oh," Cat realized then the warm welcoming had been directed at Happy, May hadn't noticed her until then. "Hi, C— As good as it can be."

"Is the landlord giving you problems? He used to get along with P.J. just fine..."

"Everything's good, thank you again for letting us borrow it for a while. You should drop by someday," May tried to tempt her, "we can order pizza, talk about what you've been up to..."

Cat lifted her box to hide her face. "I have these old clothes I want to give away."

"And I brought these too," Happy showed his own boxes. "Where should we put them?"

The woman walked them to a wide room with several large tables. Cat was looking around to make sure no familiar set of brown curls would show up unannounced.

"He's in school."

She turned to look at the woman as she emptied her box. "Sorry?"

"Peter," May clarified, "he's at school. He had to restart his year."

"Oh," Cat blinked. "How is... he doing?"

Cat mentally scolded herself at the pause, she didn't want people to think she cared about him, and yet her body and mind continued to betray her.

"He's getting through," May smiled a little, "I'm just happy he gets enough sleep."

"Of course," she figured that it didn't matter much whether she cared or not, she was already talking to his aunt, "but is he okay?"

There was no use in pretending in front of the woman, she'd seen her fall in love with Peter, and she'd been a sort of surrogate mother at some point in her life. She couldn't lie to her. May's eyes twinkled, Cat wondered why on earth wasn't she angry at her.

"He's getting through," May repeated, "you should talk to him, he misses you."

She gulped, shaking her head a little and looking down at the clothes she was folding. "I'm about to start a new job and I'm... I don't think I'll be around."

"What?" Happy came out from behind a pile of containers to look at her with concern. "Where are you going?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D might hire me," she said, voice kinda quiet, "I've been waiting for a while."

"So soon?"

She couldn't help but smile. "Don't you mean so late? They were supposed to take me when I turned twenty-one! I got all the freedom and crazy experiences I wanted, I'm ready."

Happy didn't know what to say, and Cat wasn't sure she wanted to hear it. She patted his shoulder lightly, then promised May she would be there next week with more donations. May looked down at the men's clothes she'd brought and realized it was all Pietro's.

"Are you sure..?"

"I have no use for it," she tried to smile, "I'll keep a few things, but I'm sure he'd like his clothes to be put to use. I'm doing what he wanted... I think."

As soon as she left, the young woman searched inside her pockets and pulled out the earpiece. She turned left and stood alone in the middle of an alley. There, she put the artifact in her ear and looked down at the crumbled-up piece of paper in her hand.

Let no one stop you, Kitkat. You're the best of us.

Take care, T.S.

P.S. Say Mouse.

"Alright," she took a deep breath, "Mouse!"

The tech quickly spread over her mouth, nose, and ears. It became half a mask, of a different color than the usual palettes Tony used in her old suits, a tone of greyish-white. Her eyes weren't covered by it now that they were no longer sensitive, it reminded her of the old facemask the winter soldier used to wear.

"Stand by for biometric scan," replied a mannish voice in her ear.

"Oh shit," she muttered, jumping a little, "wait— is that Dylan O'Brien's voice?"

"Biometric scan accepted."

"It is!" She gasped. "Mouse?"

"Hello, Copycat. I'm Mouse. Tony created me to be your assistant."

"He made you for me?"

"Yes,"  the voice replied, "Mouse stands for 'My official and useful server for emancipation'."

She smiled a little. "Let's get out of here, Mouse."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

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[deluluass]

Then, the dam breaks.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; dacryphilia; mild infantilization

Kuroo's not a bad person. 

Not even by a long shot. "Bad" is willfully stretching out a leg, hidden like a predator among the bushes; hungry for an unknowing soul who's naively secured with their surroundings and the crack that resounds when face finally meets floor.

Or, murder! Murder is bad, he believes.  

No, Kuroo isn't capable of any of those things. He might seem like he has a mean streak about him. What, with his sharp tongue and that incorrigible self-satisfied smirk (according to Yaku) and his words that may or may not sting like a backhanded slap sometimes. But that's all in good humor. 

Well-deserved, too, when given to the right asshole. And if he does manage to get under the skin of the wrong person, Kuroo's not above offering an apology. 

And he means it. (Occasionally.)

There's no pleasure to be had, if anyone would ask. Because, again , he's not a bad guy. He's sly: he knows that much, though he wouldn't taunt someone into visible pain just for the thrill of it.

There's a method to all this. A purpose. Not a profound one, but a reason all the same. 

So he has to admit he's feeling kinda lost figuring out why, of all people, it just really had to be you. 

There wasn't much of an option to begin with.

Art clubs had already been full. The other ones, you weren't much interested in. And by the time you realized your homeroom teacher would stop at nothing to remind you that this year was your last chance to do something other than study and prepare for exams, for once— well, it had already been too late to reconsider joining those.

Then a flyer was handed out to you.

"V-volley," the boy trailed off. 

Try as you might but you couldn't recognize him. A feat, that, considering his blond mohawk that you could spot among a crowd of thousands. 

He seemed like he'd caught a nasty spell that prevented him from meeting anyone's eyes, even as you deliberately searched his face for any sign that he'd explain himself to you. Surely, he must have a lot to say after he'd outright ambushed you from entering the cafeteria. 

"You...want me to join?" 

You were on the verge of asking for more details, focusing on the black cat (though it didn't look like it) drawn on the center of the curiously damp paper, only to find out that you'd been conversing with an empty hallway. 

A soft grumble left you. 

"Weird," you concluded, barely a whisper. "Weird, weird, weird ."

You were the volleyball team's manager since then. 

"She's not much of a talker."

Lev hunched to his knees again, sounding very much like he's running out of breath.

It should've been Kuroo's cue to gently ( gently) tell him off, that Nekoma's ace would handle a minute of catching a ball with their face with much more tenacity than he does, or that Nekoma's ace shouldn't have to catch the ball with their face in the first place, period.

" Zoning out already, Ace? " he'd planned on jeering, but instead he followed the direction of the overgrown 10 year old's gaze. 

Someone was talking to you. 

Apologizing , was more like it, if the other student's incessant bowing until his torso fell from his body was any indication. You were outside of the gym, clipboard tucked under an arm, so it was impossible to catch a word you were saying.

Not that you were saying much. Or anything at all. You only nodded. And nodded again. And after what seemed like the world's loudest "I'm so sorry, senpai!",you immediately went back inside to refill the water bottles lined atop the bench. 

"Hey," Kenma sighed, the ball in his hand aimed for a toss. "Focus."

And the cycle of Lev being an utter disappointment to the blond setter continued. 

Kuroo let out a noncommittal hum, eyes never leaving you, trailing like a lost pup as you handed out water bottles to Nobuyuki and the others. 

"Not a talker, huh," he muttered to himself. 

How long has it been? Two weeks? Three, maybe? Kuroo could scarcely remember for how many days you'd been showing up to this sweaty pit to perform your duties. On the dot. Always. Without fail. 

What he does remember was the first day.

Chin up; head held high. You strutted into their lives as if you were leading an entire militia to battle and had no time to waste.  

He teased you for it when you'd already busied yourself with clean up duty a few minutes after your (short) ( extremely concise) introduction.

("Slow down there, general," he told you with a wry chuckle. He expected any reaction from you, really.)

(He just didn't expect you to actually slow down on your cleaning and pick up on the Coach's remaining paperwork right then and there, going through it like a forest fire.)

It would take him a few more days to realize that that's just how you are. 

Even when you rejected a tongue-tied Yamamoto when he tried to ask you out. For a meal. With the other boys, of course.

Even when you took a hurtling ball to your leg and lost your footing and had the whole team scrambling for a stretcher, only for you to stand on your good leg, tell everyone "I'm okay," and walk to the nurse's office on your own.

(Kuroo doesn't think he's seen someone limp with so much grace before.)

His throat suddenly felt incredibly dry. 

Water . Water was what he needed. 

Right. 

You didn't see him coming from across the court. You were sitting on the bench and your back was turned, scribbling on that clipboard propped on your lap, yet— like clockwork, your idle hand shot out to give him the last bottle to your left before he could even finish asking for one.

He felt his lips curve as he muttered his thanks around the lid.

"Say," Kuroo began.  

You were reading the things you wrote back to yourself. 

"Mind telling me what was that about?"

You paused. You blinked up at Kuroo. 

The attention hits him like a freight train. 

That clear as summer sky gaze, unclouded and bright. 

It's nuts how unreal it felt. How can something so elusive be now all on him. 

(Just for him.)

"Earlier," he added, licking his lips and feeling silly for the way his chest tightened. "Seemed kinda intense."

"He borrowed my notes," you said. Then back to the clipboard again. 

Kuroo made himself comfortable next to you, elbow propped on his knee as he rested his chin against an open palm.

"Got a test coming up?"

"Cram school. He's in the same class."

Of course .

"Of course," Kuroo grinned. "What happened? Heard the guy apologize to you like you were about to kill him."

Laughter bubbled out of his chest. Unfortunately, you didn't seem to find it as funny as he did. Pity. 

He sighed.

"Nothing too bad, I hope."  

The noise of ballpoint pen scratching against paper halted. 

From way at the back, Lev was prattling Kenma's ear off again. Kuroo guessed they were about to leave, walking away from the court, away from the gym and to god knows where. The whole team, too, for that matter.

Everyone seemed to have gone, diminished in that second. He couldn't hear them anymore, didn't bother to see if they're still there.

He was looking at you, after all. Really looking at you. Your grip on the pen was a tad severe, he thought; fingers determined to squeeze the ink out of the barrel. 

Your face betrayed nothing. Indeed, anyone could spare you a glance and immediately guess that this is just another empty chat between acquainted individuals, conversation just for the sake of it. 

Kuroo wasn't just anyone, though.

Chin up and head held high; as you'd always done. But Kuroo's close enough to see it now, unlike before: the gulps you take in between breaths; the falter in those eyes that only ever looked forward.

Chin up and head held high, but Kuroo sees now that the neck he could easily break with one hand is so tense it's essentially a string pulled too tight that's on the brink of snapping. 

Oh.

"Oh," Kuroo whispered.

Oh .

"He lost it didn't he?" Kuroo realized. "Your notes."

And it did snap.

"Just..!" You looked down and bunched your pants in your fist. "No. Of course not. It's nothing," you huffed, putting the ball pen's cap back on. 

You were leaving.

Kuroo stood up.

"You look upset, manager-san," he said softly, his larger frame blocking your attempts of escape. "It is bothering you, hm?"

"My notebook got-got ruined, sure," you said. "But juice stains aren't bothering me, Captain ."

There it is. You were meeting his gaze again. 

" Too late for that ," Kuroo thought. There's a stutter to your words when there had been none. 

Your arms are trembling and you look  uncomfortable. He should stop. He knows he should stop , but whatever it is he said is chipping away at that impenetrable wall and he doesn't get what's happening now but damn, damn if that tingle running down his spine doesn't feel so fucking good. 

"My bad," he chuckled. "Sorry."

He raised both his arms in a show of defeat. 

"I'm- it's fine," you said through gritted teeth. "If you would just— excuse me."

Kuroo shrugged a shoulder. 

"Sorry about your notes, still," he said. "Must've been important to you. We all know how much you take your studies very, very seriously." 

Kuroo smirked. "You shouldn't have let him have it then." 

That made you stop in your tracks. 

"What do you mean?" you sought, confusion breaking your voice into what sounds like the smallest it's ever been.

Kuroo felt his breath catch in his throat.

"He needed my help, though," you rushed. "I can't just turn people away." 

"Really?" Kuroo sniggered, eyebrows lifting in fascination. 

"Could've sworn you were good at it," he said; whispered it so lowly, you couldn't have heard it. But you did.

You heard him, all right. Loud and clear.

Because it was just like watching someone take a bullet to the heart. 

First, the disbelief. 

Skin, muscles, and ligaments weren't made to be broken like that. A person wasn't created to bleed to death. And when it happens, well, all one can ask is: how could someone hurt me like this? 

So you stand before him, immobile, disbelief written in those wide eyes, because how could he hurt me like this?

Then—

Then, the dam breaks.

Kuroo doesn't think that you know it; that you're gaping at him with tears streaming down your face; that you're falling apart and stripping yourself bare the more you try to temper those quivering lips with that cute little nibbling you do.  

Kuroo doesn't think you know it, too.

That no one has ever been as beautiful as you are, right in that very moment.

You're not a good person.

Not even by a long shot. "Good" is an open hand, warm and soft and prepared to accept anyone in need of it. It's many things, goodness, but it most certainly isn't a dismissive attitude towards a well-meaning person who only wants to get to know you.

You hadn't gone this far in your uneventful life ignorant of what people say behind your back. "Frigid" is one. "Indifferent" on a good day. "Bitch" when someone feels like being mean. 

It's not like you're mad or anything; not as if you'd built up some sort of resentment within you that now you've settled for being perpetually friendless. You have plans, is all. You just can't afford to be a constant helping hand when you've got so much to do.

So you take it. 

Be a sport about it, was what you've always been told. Stiff upper lip, as they say. You remain silent about it and you endure and maybe you shed a few tears later as you lie in bed and maybe you entertain the possibility that you'll never see the end of this loneliness. 

But that's neither here nor there.

The point is, this time shouldn't have been any different.

(But sometimes even the strongest walls can crumble. All it takes is one crack, then the rest would follow.)

It was a bad day. 

You woke up late. You messed up the tally in the first set of practice games. You forgot the homework you'd stayed up all night to do. 

And the person whom you've lended your notes to for the college entrance exams lost it. 

He lost it. Conveniently just a month before the actual thing. 

"I- It's nowhere to be found, senpai," he explained. "I tried looking for it everywhere but- but I.." (You don't remember the rest.)

It's fine, you told yourself. You're fine. You can do something about a little inconvenience like this. You always have.

But then Kuroo Tetsurou asked. 

He's an amazing captain; even someone like you who only had a rudimentary knowledge at volleyball could understand the level of skill it requires to do what he does on the court while still managing to reign in the polarizing characters in this team together. And like most people, Kuroo Tetsurou has never cared for you. 

That's what you'd always thought, concerning him. Even when there had been times when he'd let slip what he thought about you. ("You're so cold, manager-san," he pouted once after you'd refused to eat with Yamamoto and the others.)

So it blindsided you, to say the least. 

The way he looked at you, as if he's privy to your darkest secrets, like he's seen you at your lowest and somehow knows you more than you did. 

When he'd jabbed and poked at what you'd only later realize was already a festering wound. (" It is bothering you, hm?" he said.) And before you could think about telling him to stop, to please, please let it go, it had already happened.

(" Could've sworn you were good at it ," he said.) 

This isn't news to you. Besides, there have obviously been worse digs. 

But hearing it from people who think you're not listening and being told about it to your face are two vastly different things. 

(Maybe it's because deep inside you'd always hoped that not everyone disliked you. That even though you're not a good person, you're not entirely bad either.)

Right in front of you, swift and without warning, he spoke only the truth.

You just weren't prepared for how deep it could cut. 

"I have to go," you murmured.

It took you a few seconds to realize that you'd been crying. And when you did, you immediately wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, turning away from him and the others still engrossed in their drills.

You let your feet do the thinking, allowing it to take you wherever they wished to go ( not here. not here. anywhere but here ), finding it impossible to do so yourself when your vision is clouded with welling tears. 

You moved forward, never once looked back, until you ended up inside the stark darkness of the gym's forgotten neighbor. 

The shed has long been abandoned and had nothing but dust, a couple of furniture in disrepair, and the occasional bug to keep it company. It was good enough for you. You didn't need much anyway.

Except for silence. 

The breaths that you'd desperately tried to control shook like dried leaves hanging onto frail branches, much like your legs, eventually collapsing at the slightest gust of wind. 

All you needed was silence.

Crouched down, the feeling of bones reduced to jelly was a lot more palpable. And despite the pins and needles that you know would eventually appear like a vengeful mistress, you stubbornly pressed your knees closer to your damp face.

Stuttering inhales and short-lived exhales  soon enough filled the gnawing emptiness of the shed as you count back to the moment you'd started the day to when your classmate told you that he'd lost your notebook to when you'd been told of how much of a shitty person you are and you wonder how you would've changed your decisions and how could it have gotten to this point how could it go wrong like this what did I do what did I do wrong what went —

"There you are."

You clamped your mouth shut, clenched your teeth so hard to stop their chattering. How useless. 

The creaking noise of the door being closed— punctuated by the sound of the latch clicking, rendered that effort futile. 

Kuroo Tetsurou locked the door.   

"C-can you," you panted. "Can you please leave."

"I need some time alone," you said, every beat of your heart like the ticking clock of a time bomb. "Please." 

You waited for him to do as you'd told. Maybe what happened earlier was a mistake, a slip of tongue that hurt more than it should've, and he's here to apologize. Of course. That's it, isn't it? Why else would he be here?

"I- If you want to say something, we can- we can— later." 

It was as if the entire world had gone still. He said nothing; neither could you hear any hint of movement. You turned around.

"C-captain..!"

He was right there. 

Right in front of you, crouched and staring right back at you. His face a hair's breadth away from yours. 

Your legs shot upwards. 

"What are you- ah !" You hissed, feeling every cell in your body being incessantly pricked. Finding it impossible to stand on your own, your hands scrambled to get a hold of something, anything, maybe the almost dilapidated table behind you— only to be caught in between large, strong arms.

"Careful, now," he murmured against your neck. His scalding breath like frostbite, chilling you down to your bones until you were numbed from the pain.

He slithered a hand around your waist. With blood thundering to your ears, you bit back a shriek and pushed him away with all your might. But have you forgotten? Despite that indolent swagger of his, you've witnessed how this boy pushes himself to exertion for each match and beyond. What made you think you could win against him? 

And when you attempted to open your mouth and yell, he effortlessly covered it with a palm while hauling you towards the table. The thing rocked under your weight. It is amusing, what the fear of falling does to you. One moment you're thrashing your way out; the next, you're holding onto your tormentor for dear life.

"No one's gonna come for you." He shushed you like how one would when placating a rabid animal. "You really believe they would bother? With an attitude like that?"

Down, down, his hand sank to your thigh, kneading the aching flesh until all you could do was mewl out a hoarse, "S-stop. I beg y-you."

Because it's all that's left for you. No one's going to save you. Or maybe someone would. But, who? And would they, really? 

(Go on, then. Try. See for yourself.)

"Kuroo-san," you whimpered. " S-stop ."

(Would they even believe you? It's your word against his. Him . Their beloved captain.)

"Tetsurou," he only said, dipping his hand lower, wrapping your freezing legs around him. "Say it."

He's everywhere. Lips tracing your chin, teeth grazing your throat; all the while your weak, pathetic arms stayed on his shoulders, thinking he'd regain his senses because he has to. He has to. He's not a bad person. He wouldn't hurt you, not in that way. 

Even when rough palms are already caressing the sides of your breasts and you feel a bulge rutting against your stomach, hot and rock hard and large, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your crotch closer to his—

"Cap- Tetsurou!" You cried, trembling hands back on his chest as you sobbed and pleaded please, please, let me go, I won't say anything, I-I'll keep quiet .

He did stop. But he didn't let you go. (You're a stupid girl if you think he would). Instead, with a forefinger under your chin and a thumb on your lower lip, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze. 

And when your murky vision adjusted to the shadows, the heart that wanted to escape from your chest ceased its clamoring, arresting your breath with it.

The afternoon sun peeked through the crevices of the shed's wooden walls. Red-orange light revealed a pair of iris swallowed by blown pupils, only for it to pass and shroud him back into the darkness. 

"Say it again," he whispered, deep voice cracking. " Tetsurou . My name."

You tried to speak and protest once again but only a croaked snivel left you, your babbling becoming less coherent when he began planting soft kisses on both tear-streaked cheeks. 

"You've been all alone, haven't you? Keeping everything to yourself all this time."

He kissed your forehead and it was so tender you wanted to die. 

"My strong, brave girl," he breathed. "I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you. I- I-"

You heard him chuckle as he pressed his forehead to yours, felt it crease on your skin. "I love you."

No. No, no, no . You shook your head and closed your eyes and prayed to anyone who's listening. 

"I love you," he repeated, strongly now, as if he only realized it this time around. 

And then he kissed you. Just a peck. And then he kissed you again, deepening it to probe a wet tongue into your mouth. And the hand sitting lax on your neck felt like a gun to your temple.   

You remained just as you were, like a plaything to do with as he pleased, as you felt calloused fingers creep inside your sweaty shirt.

"Such pretty tits," he grunted as he raised your bra over your breasts to brush your nipples, rolling and pinching and pulling them with his thumbs.

He muffled the noises you made with his own mouth still when he continued fondling you. You soon enough tasted the salt off of his palm when he left your lips to lick and pepper bites on your neck, on the valley and mounds of your breasts, sucking and lapping the stiff peaks until he was satisfied.

You tried counting, one to whatever. And when that did not work, you tried biting your own tongue to rid of the heat you fear would burst in your belly. 

All that went to waste when he reached inside your pants. 

"Not- not there!" you gasped, breaking your silence and wriggling out of his grasp.

He cooed. "You'll feel good. I promise."

After hooking long fingers over the hem of your panties, he briskly parted the hair and lips underneath to pull the thin cotton over the folds, over the throbbing nub trapped in the middle. 

"Your pussy's so wet, sweetheart," he sighed, the tip of his middle finger drawing light circles on your clothed clit. 

It was so lewd and dirty and the fact that your panties were soaked with slick was enough to burn you with shame.

"You like it, hm?" 

Perhaps you whimpered out a meek "no." You couldn't tell anymore, heaving out while he continued to toy with a sore nipple as he rubbed your slippery cunt, preying on your puffed out, swollen clit.  

"Feel what you do to me." He squeezed your wrist and forced your shivering hand on his crotch. "Take out my cock, baby," he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck.

"Tet-Tetsuro…san," you cried. "I can- I can't."

"Yes. Yes, you can ," he said, not halting the ministrations between your legs. "You're a big girl."

As if held by a string, he guided you, wrapped his hand around yours as he— as you stroked him, scorching and thick, up and down, just like that . 

"Good girl. My good little girl," he groaned, parting your panties to the side to tease your dripping hole. 

You wept harder, the inevitable only a few seconds away from you. A single finger, at first. And when he added a second one, you realized you preferred having a hand on your mouth than his lips on yours.

(Because then you wouldn't have to think of an excuse why you're suddenly swirling and brushing your tongue in time with his.) 

For a while there had been nothing but the sound of two wet lips pursing against each other (along with those embarrassing squelching noises). 

He treated you as if you were made of porcelain, your plush walls stroked oh so gently as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he ended the kiss and removed your hand from his cock, spit and pre-cum connecting you to him, he still handled you as if you would break at the drop of a hat.

That's why it snuck up on you, what happened, after he brought his mouth to your ear.

"Don't scream," he whispered. 

Then, he rammed his fingers in your mouth. 

You tasted yourself as he forced you on your back, slamming you down on the dirty table yet still carrying your weight all throughout, never letting go.

The bitter acceptance of it— that what began earlier can only conclude to this , did not prepare you for the feeling when he finally thrust himself into you.

They say it shouldn't hurt at first. If it does then he's doing it wrong. 

You hardly know if it's relief or horror that dawns on you when you realize how he stretched you out so easily, despite his size. Because, by all means, this should be wrong. This is wrong. 

"Gonna ruin you," he panted. "Gonna ruin you and— fuck put you back together myself."

He grinded his cock inside you deep and slow and when he hit that spot you couldn't control yourself from jackknifing so hard he had to hold you down. He does this mercilessly, pace growing more delirious until you're nothing but a choked and sputtering fool around his fingers.

"I won't ever leave you. I’m here," he cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your face as you bawled and shattered in his embrace. "I’m here ."

"So cry all you want."

[omgrachwrites]

Playing The Hero - Chapter Four

Pairing: Harry Potter x Ravenclaw!Reader 

Summary: Soulmates have a way of seeing and feeling each other’s emotions by a gem that is set in the palm of their hand which glows with magic. The colour of the gem on the palm of your hand, erratically changes between different colours. Unbeknownst to you, every time the gem on your soulmates palm glows blue he feels very over protective and worried. That’s just what happens when your soulmate always plays the hero. Soulmate Au

Warnings: fluff!!!

Words: 2296

A/N: Sorry this is so late guys (but it works out pretty well posting it on the 1st of September), life is crazy right now! I hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all very much! xxx

masterlist

Yellow - Happy, Secure, Excited

Red - Scared, Nervous, Unsure, Angry

Grey - Stressed, Worried

Blue - Sad, Hurt, Frustrated

Orange - Overprotective

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

Chapter Four

When Harry woke up on that dreary miserable Saturday, he felt excited despite the horrible weather, and for a second he couldn’t understand why. Then, all of a sudden, his exhausted brain remembered and he almost jolted out of bed as a thrill zipped through his veins. Quidditch was starting today – well, try outs were being held – and Harry had been chosen as the Quidditch Captain. He just wished that Sirius and his parents could be here to see his success.

He glanced down at his watch and saw that it would be a couple of hours until breakfast but at this moment in time, he felt too excited to be able to get back to sleep. Harry stretched and climbed out of bed to pour himself a cold glass of water from the jug on the windowsill. He gazed out onto the dark wet grounds, it wasn’t ideal conditions for Quidditch but it wasn’t the worst. At least there wasn’t thunder and lightning.

A laugh almost forced its way out of Harry’s mouth as he watched Hagrid stumble through the rain with Fang, presumably so Fang could do his business. As he was creeping back to bed as quietly as he could for another couple of hours sleep, Ron sat up with a sleepy sigh.

“How do you look so happy this early in the morning?” he groaned with his eyes half closed and his red hair sticking up in different directions.

“Quidditch try outs are today mate,” Harry laughed as he got back into his bed.

Ron nodded as realisation dawned on his tired freckled face, “oh yeah,” he gave Harry a tired thumbs up, “can’t wait,” he hummed as he fell back onto his back and immediately began snoring.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head in exasperation before he succumbed to sweet sleep once more. When Harry woke up once more, the dormitory was a little bit brighter and it had stopped raining but it was still dull and grey outside. He ran a hand through his messy hair and stretched his arms above his head as he glanced over at Ron’s bed.

His best friend was sitting at the end of his bed, looking a little more awake, though his eyes were glazed over with the remains of sleep. Ron offered him a small smile as he pulled his shoes on and Harry noticed that Ron was looking a little peaky and his skin almost had a green tinge to it.

“Are you nervous, or sick mate?” he asked as he slid out of bed and began to get dressed for the day.

Ron clutched at his stomach, his eyes almost bugging out, “I’m lucky enough to be feeling both at the same time,” he mumbled sarcastically, “I don’t think that I can have anything for breakfast.”

Harry’s eyes widened just a little bit, he knew that this was serious if Ron wasn’t willing to try and eat something. Ron adored his food, “it’s only try outs, mate. I promise you that you’ll be fine and it’ll do you some good to eat something,” Harry remarked as he quickly finished getting dressed and the two friends made their way down to the warm and toasty common room.

Hermione already had her head buried in a book as she was sitting in their favourite squashy armchairs by the fireplace. Ron sighed, rolling his eyes as he rubbed at his temples and nudged Harry’s arm with his own.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, she’s a bloody nutter,” he shook his head, muttering beneath his breath.

Harry smirked and he was about to approach Hermione when something caught his eye, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Over Ron’s shoulder he noticed that Lavender Brown was gazing wistfully at Ron, her eyes held a longing gaze and her lips were pouty as she stared at Ron. Harry frowned, he thought it was very odd, considering that Lavender had never shown any interest in Ron before.

It didn’t look as though Ron had noticed yet so Harry quickly began walking towards Hermione before Ron could realise what was happening. That was one awkward, embarrassing conversation that Harry really didn’t want to be a part of. Hermione looked up from her book and smiled.

“Good morning,” her eyes softened just a little as they flickered over to Ron.

Before Harry could answer, Ron spoke up, effectively ruining the moment, “nutter you are, doing homework on a Saturday,” he scoffed.

At once, Hermione’s face hardened as she threw him a nasty look, “shut up, Ron!”

Ron and Hermione were still snarling at each other as they walked into the Entrance Hall and Harry was starting to feel a bit annoyed, they’d been at each other’s throats more than usual this year. Harry was about to tell them to put a sock in it when Ron gasped dramatically as he looked towards the huge doors that led into the Great Hall.

“What is it now?” Harry sighed.

“What the bloody hell is Y/N doing with him?” Ron pointed and Harry followed Ron’s gaze, his chest deflating a little as he saw Y/N talking with Malfoy.

“Well, it might be news to you, Ron, but Y/N can be friends with whoever she wants,” Hermione hissed before hesitating, “even if it is Malfoy,” Ron grumbled in reply but he didn’t say anything in response.

The conversation between Y/N and Malfoy didn’t look particularly friendly, Y/N looked angry but worried at the same time as she bit her lip. Malfoy was smirking like a Cheshire Cat. A shooting pain in Harry’s palm caused him to look at his gem and he was surprised with what he saw; it was very unusual. It was a gradient of red and blue, causing a surge of over protectiveness to inflate in his chest.

As Harry approached the bickering couple, Y/N smiled at Harry and gave him a little wave, causing Malfoy to sneer and he whispered something to Y/N before stalking away, “hey guys! Excited for try-outs?”

“So excited!” Harry grinned, suddenly feeling nervous as he ran his fingers through his hair, biting his lip, “are you coming to watch? You’re more than welcome as long as you don’t give our game plan away,” he was mostly joking.

“I’d love to, thanks for inviting me, Harry,” Y/N smiled as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“It will be good to have another girl, these boys can get so tiresome,” Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes, Harry didn’t know whether to be offended or not.

“I can only imagine,” Y/N giggled, winking at Harry.

“Since when were you friends with Malfoy?” Ron frowned as he crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow and Harry groaned internally.

“Merlin, what is the matter with you this morning?” Harry shook his head at his best mate before turning back to look at Y/N apologetically, “sorry,” he mumbled.

Y/N simply waved away his apology, “it’s no worries,” Y/N smiled as she looked over Harry’s shoulder at Ron, “trust me Ron, it’s a very long story,” she rolled her eyes.

After a light breakfast, Harry and Ron said goodbye to the girls as they headed into the changing rooms to get ready for the try-outs, the conditions had gotten a bit worse, it had started raining again. Harry was starting to feel a little nervous as he stood in front of the many hopefuls and his eyes wandered to the stands. Y/N shot him an encouraging little wave and he smiled, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. Sitting a couple of rows behind Y/N and Hermione, was Lavender who looked like she was on the edge of her seat as she stared at the pitch. Harry shook his head before looking at the possibilities for his Quidditch team.

Dean and Ginny were very good Quidditch players – Ginny had Fred and George’s talent in the air – but he was hesitant to get them both on the team. They had recently started dating and he didn’t want tension to darken his team – and their chances of winning the cup – if they ever broke up.

Harry shivered in the rain as he decided to issue a warning to the team, “now, I just want to say, just because you made the team last year doesn’t guarantee you a spot this year, is that clear?” he called out and he couldn’t help but quickly glance up at the stands again.

“Does that include you as well?” Cormac McLagan – the biggest dickhead in Gryffindor – asked with a smug smirk on his face. Harry narrowed his eyes but before he could reply, Ron jumped to his defence.

“Don’t be dense! He’s the Captain!”

“Yeah, well, we’re not going to have a very good shot at winning if our Captain is constantly distracted. Though, I can’t blame you, Potter, I’d be the same knowing that Granger and Y/L/N are in the stands,” McLagan smirked as he turned around to wave at the two girls who were sitting in the stands and Harry had a sudden urge to punch him in his throat.

“What is this ‘we’ business, you’re not on the team, McLagan,” Ginny scowled which effectively shut him up.

You shivered and stuck your hands in the pockets of your coat as you walked up the high street on your way to the Three Broomsticks. It was the first Hogsmeade trip and Hermione had invited you to go with the trio and you’d said that you’d meet her in the pub, you couldn’t get up early on your day off, especially when it was cold. There were weekends when you would stay in bed all day.

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

As you got to the pub, you pushed open the door and stepped inside, breathing out in relief as you felt how warm the pub was, thanks to the huge fire that was crackling away. The pub was exceptionally busy today, Hagrid was talking to a hag in one corner and there was someone who was drinking from a steaming goblet at the bar. This is why you loved coming to The Three Broomsticks because you got to see and meet so many different people.

You spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting on a table that was tucked away in a cute little alcove and you could see Ron scowling at the table a couple of rows over from theirs. When Harry spotted you he greeted you with a wave and you smiled back as you walked over to their table.

“Hi guys, I’m sorry that I’m late but I just can’t get up early at the weekend,” you laughed as you sat next to Hermione, who grinned at you as she pulled you into a one armed hug. Before this year, you hadn’t really spoken to Hermione but she was really lovely.

“No worries,” Harry smiled, his cheeks and nose were red from the cold and he was still wrapped up in his woollen scarlet and gold scarf, “got you a drink,” he mumbled almost shyly as he a tankard of Butterbeer over to you, his fingers brushing against yours, making you blush.

“Thanks Harry,” you grinned as you quickly took the drink, wondering if Harry felt the same electricity as you did. As soon as you took a sip of the warm beverage, you closed your eyes and sighed happily, it felt like heaven as it slid down your throat and warmed your insides, “so what’s going on with you guys?”

Ron groaned around his Butterbeer and he shook his head, “do not get him started,” he jabbed his thumb at Harry and that piqued your interest.

“Why, what’s happened?” you laughed, ignoring Ron’s groans of protests and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hermione get a book out of her bag and she sighed as she opened the front cover.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Slughorn has been pestering me about going to one of his dinner parties and I can’t think of anything worse. He’s throwing one tomorrow for Halloween.”

“Ah yes, the infamous Slug Club, my dad was a member,” you snickered, thinking it was hilarious and a bit weird that Slughorn threw a party for his students, “how did you get out of the other two he held?”

“Well, I had that detention with Snape, and the other time I was loaded up with homework,” he bit his lip and you could tell that there was something he wasn’t saying but you didn’t want to pry.

“Slughorn’s parties surely can’t be that bad,” you laughed as you sucked some Butterbeer foam from your finger and you didn’t miss the way that Harry watched, almost enraptured.

“Want to come with me then? And you can see for yourself,” Harry laughed and Ron grimaced before standing up.

“I’m going to the bar,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, no,” you laughed, you could think of better things to do with your night, “like, I’d go if I was invited but I can barely stand Slughorn in class, never mind in a social setting.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Harry smirked.

You flushed and took a sip of your Butterbeer as you searched for something to say, you didn’t know Harry all too well but there was something you really liked about him. But, you just couldn’t put your finger on it. However, you couldn’t let Harry distract you from your mission of finding your soulmate.

“But seriously, if you need someone to go with, I don’t mind going with you, just once,” you admitted.

Harry smirked as he quirked an eyebrow and bit his lip as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, “yeah? Good to know.”

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@annemagus @smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @pregnant-piggy @justadreamyhufflepuff @yoitsalexxxxx @potters-heart @voiddylanobrosey​ @wilddxchildd​ @padsfirewhisky​ @lozzybowe​

[bitches-who-write]

you guys said in other posts that Henry and Patrick likes to scare. can you write a story on a reader whose naturally jumpy and scares way to easily. maybe a story about what they do to her? if you can make it reaally scary and teasy I like that. your guys writing is out of this world. thanx

Your wish is our command!

Scaredy Cat

Description: Reader is easily scareable/jumpy. Henry and Patrick take full advantage of this. Featuring Belch & Vic (Spinoff of our haunted house fic)

Word Count: 2,979

Warning: Suspense, Terror, Foul language,

We hope you enjoy this story as much as we enjoyed writing it. It’s our longest post yet so we’re feeling proud!! It definitely brings on Halloween Vibes for those of you who are as obsessed about Halloween as we are!

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Everyone knows Eddie Kaspbrak is a nervous kid but Y/N, Eddie’s sister is even more of a scaredy-cat. Henry and Patrick could smell your fear a mile away. It’s the day before Halloween and the town of Derry is celebrating their annual haunted house attraction. Typically the last walk-through is at midnight, but Henry and Patrick have an alternative plan for their easily scareable victim.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and all anyone at school can talk about is how terrifying the haunted house attraction is going to be. I sit at an empty cafeteria table alone working on my history homework when suddenly I feel a hand grab my shoulder. I practically jump out of my skin, already feeling on edge from all the Halloween talk. I abruptly turn around to face whoever is behind me. To my surprise, it is Patrick Hockstetter and Henry Bowers. I shiver feeling the mixture of Patrick’s cool metal rings and callused hands slide down my arm, gently caressing my sides. I try to lean forward to escape his unwanted embrace, both of them still snickering from my startled reaction. “Holy shit dude, you weren’t kidding she is worse than her wimpy brother.” Henry chortled. I look up at them with a confused expression which only makes Patrick look even more satisfied. “That's right Y/N, I’ve been watching you...studying you....taking a few notes.” Patrick takes a dramatic pause, grinning before continuing; “ I’ve learned a lot of interesting things about you. Like what your fears and phobias are, and what scares you the most- which is a lot coming from you.” Henry chimes in “We noticed the way you glance over your shoulder when you’re all alone, and how you quickly turn on a light when you get home so you’re not in the dark for long.” My eyes widen in shock, realizing they’ve been stalking me without me even knowing it. I finally mustered up the courage to speak but unfortunately for me, my voice dripping from uncertainty and apprehension; “What do you guys want?” With a playful smirk, Henry grabs a chair and turns it so the back of the chair is facing me, resting his arms over it as he sits down. Patrick takes a seat directly next to me but slings his arm around my side, trapping me against him and the table. Henry, never breaking eye contact, finally speaks up first. He licks his lips before leaning in close, his voice full of malice, “We just want to spend time with you. Be ready by midnight we’re picking you up.” They both begin to stand up and walk away but Patrick slowly turns back towards me, “Oh and Y/N... that’s an order.” With that, they both exit the cafeteria leaving me trembling in fear.

I anxiously get ready knowing they will be here in another 10 minutes. I told my mother I was spending the night at a friend's house. Eddie had already gone to his sleepover at Richie’s house so I couldn’t even warn him about my whereabouts for the night. As I finish getting ready, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that I’m being watched. I chalk the feeling off thinking I’m just being paranoid at this point. I walk into my closet to grab a jacket. When I reach for the pull string to turn on the light, of course, the lightbulb is dead- just my luck. I begin to slide each jacket down the rack trying to find the one I want when suddenly something-or someone grabs my wrist causing me to scream in terror. I pulled my wrist back with such force that I stumbled backwards falling on my ass. I try to scoot back to get away from whoever is now slowly approaching me. The tall dark figure slowly emerges from the dark closet, stepping into the light of my bedroom. My eyes widened in both panic and shock seeing Patrick standing there with an eerie smirk plastered on his face. In a mocking tone he says “You ready princess? It's time to go.” Still sitting on the floor with my back up against my bed, I then feel someone squeeze my sides from under the bed. I let out another blood-curdling scream as I jolt forward frantically crawling towards Patrick now, not knowing where to go anymore. I distinctly hear Henry’s laugh from under the bed sounding satisfied that his little prank was successful. “Fuck, it’s a good thing your mom is such a heavy sleeper.” He says in an arrogant tone. Patrick flashes him a knowing smirk adding to Henry’s observation. “Yeaaah. I’m sure those pills probably helped, too.” This made both guys laugh hysterically. “What?! What did you do to my mother?!” I ask in utter disbelief and confusion. “Ohh calm the fuck down, she’ll be fine she’s just having a good...rest.” Patrick says now guiding me by my shoulder towards the door to leave the house now.

We walk out to a blue car sitting outside the front of my house; Belch in the driver seat, chuckling. After about a 15 minute drive, we finally arrived at our destination. I had no clue where these two psychos were even taking me up until now. I look up and see a nightmarish haunted house attraction. However, for a place that is so popular in Derry, especially the night before Halloween- not a soul is around. I hesitantly step out of the car; Belch giving me a big taunting smile from his place in the car. “Good luck, Y/N” and with that, he sped off.

I try my best to be brave but my facial expression and voice says otherwise. My eyes nervously look around taking in the scenery, the palms of my hands are sweaty, and I feel a lump in my throat as I try to swallow. “W-W-Where is e-everyone? Why is n-n-nobody here?” I instantly begin to blush as they laugh at my shaky, nervous voice. Patrick’s smirk begins to grow into a wider smile as he becomes giddy in excitement, unable to stand still in one place. He jumps in front of me, facing my direction as he holds my shoulders. I glance over at Henry who is looking over at us with a knowing smirk. “That is the best part...you’re gonna love it Y/N; It’s gonna be a scream!” I continue to feel uneasy since Patrick still hasn’t answered my question about why no one else is here. Finally, Henry speaks up. “Let’s just say the Bower’s gang gets special treatment when it comes to getting what we want. Now we have the whole place to ourselves.” My stomach sinks realizing they probably terrorized the poor workers into closing the attractions. Patrick grabs my hand forcefully pulling me into the makeshift haunted house building. I tried to dig my heels into the ground to stop us but that obviously didn’t work as he is much stronger and taller than myself. Even if it did work, Henry would be right there to catch me so there is no use in trying to escape them.

Henry takes the lead opening the black curtain into the house, revealing a long dark corridor. The only light source illuminating the path was from the moonlight. I look up at Patrick who is on my left side. With pleading eyes I begin to mouth the words ‘no’ over and over again at him. He just smirks and shoves me forward. I clutch onto Patrick's arm as the three of us venture down to the first room...a Medical Experimentation Chamber.

As I walk into the room I frantically begin to look around at my surroundings. The room is dimly lit yet there are disorienting strobe lights flickering, blinding me. I squint my eyes to focus on my surroundings better. It looks like there's a lot of twists and turns ahead. I see medical tables equipped with thick straps and buckles for restraints. Alongside these tables is medical equipment that looks dented and rusty...or is that blood?. In addition to the visual distractions, there are deafly loud sound effects of patients screaming and the sounds of surgical tools being played on a loop. I was so distracted by my surroundings that I didn't notice Patrick trailing behind me. He proceeds to pick me up from behind and lays me down onto the medical table. Henry walks over and holds me by my arms and legs so Patrick can strap me in. They both back away from me laughing as I see someone enter the room. The man that walked in was dressed as a surgeon in all white, I could see he was covered in blood. My eyes widen in hysteria as I notice his facial features. His eyes were very sinister, his nose looked as if it was broken with a gashed cut on the bridge of his nose with a jagged hack job of stitches. My eyes began to fixate on his mouth which was spread wide and sewn into a gruesome smile. His teeth were jagged and sharp. As he leans down towards me, lowering his surgical tool; I begin to scream and thrash against my restraints. Suddenly everything becomes pitch black and the deafening noise vanishes. The only noises left in the room were the sound of me screaming and crying along with Henry and Patrick laughing their asses off. The room became dimly lit again as Henry began to undo the restraints. As he works to unbuckle me I frantically look around trying to find the surgeon who was just in here, but suddenly disappeared. I sat up slowly trying to compose myself although my body is trembling excessively. Patrick gave me no breaks as he continues to push me forward towards the next room...The SlaughterHouse.

As we walk into the next room, I am desperately holding onto the back of Henry’s shirt begging to go home. I can hear him chuckle  arrogantly as he feels me gripping his shirt. Patrick whispers in my ear from behind, his hands placed firmly on my hips, “But the fun is just getting started princess.” I take a deep breath before asking no one in particular, “Can someone hold my hand? ..Please?” My voice filled with terror and practically pleading. They both look at each other at the same time, laugh and respond with a mocking as they imitate my voice- “noOoO.” I look down at my feet feeling so small until I can hear what sounds like metal clanking together- echoing louder and louder. I completely stop dead in my tracks, my legs feeling so wobbly as we enter a room with hooks. So many hooks with prosthetic pigs hanging on them! I hear Patrick from behind me chuckle and say in a taunting sing-song type voice, “Come on Y/N~ keep moving.” Henry looks at us, laughing in amusing sporting that same smirk that never left his face. Henry slowly approaches me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice is low and cold, “ Hey Y/N ever wonder what it felt like to be a pig hanging on a hook?” My eyes widen as he says this and I quickly try to make a run for it but Patrick is fast to grab me before I could. He begins to carry me over to Henry effortlessly despite my squirming. Patrick puts me down then shoves me into Henrys chest. Henry then picks me up and places me on one of the metal hooks, putting a hole in my favorite black jacket. I begin crying..again this time sobbing uncontrollably as I struggle to say, “G-Guys this r-r-really isn't f-funny. I wanna gah-g-go home now. Get me d-down pleasee!” They both laugh at my breakdown and begin to walk out of the room. Patrick peeks his head back in, “Just hang there for a sec princess, we’ll be right back ~” Henry chimes in “I wouldn’t give the butcher a hard time if I were you. He hates when you struggle...” I hear them laugh in the distance as they walk off again. That's when I heard it...that's when I heard the sound of a chainsaw and heavy footsteps charging towards me. I scream so loud I start to lose my voice a little, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. A man that looks well over 6ft tall with broad shoulders walks in. He looks like he came straight out of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. At this point, I’m bawling my eyes out, screaming and desperately calling for Henry and Patrick’s help. Although realistically I know the chainsaw has no blade on it, it’s still equally terrifying. The butcher brings the saw somewhat close to my face. I wince, closing my eyes tightly as the strong scent of gasoline invades my nose, along with a faint musty smell coming off the chainsaw, as well as the man in front of me. I brace myself for the impact which never came. I opened my eyes to see the man lowering the chainsaw instead. I let out a sigh of relief thinking he is going to let me down but instead he pulls out a blindfold. At this point, I can literally hear my heartbeat pulsating through my ears. I’m trying to kick aimsley now that can't see anything. That’s when I feel someone grabbing at my legs. My blindfold drops down as I see Patrick looking up at me with his famous smile. Henry begins to get me down as he mockingly says, “I told you he hates it when you struggle, didn’t I?”

I am violently shaking from adrenaline to the point that they have to keep me upright, sandwiched in the middle of them both. I look at them and ask between sobs, “Are we done yet? Can I go home now? Please?” Henry condescendingly pats my head as if I am a child while Patrick chuckles and says, “We have one more room to complete and you’re their special guest...they kept vacancy just for you!”

As we exit the slaughterhouse we suddenly are displaced into a parking lot. A rush of confusion washes over me. Patrick just said there’s still one more room left, why are we outside? I shiver out of fright as Patrick rubs his hands up and down my arms, his head tilted as he looks at me with a teasing smirk. Henry nudges me and points up to a sign which reads “Motel” with a crooked red light flickering. It reads ‘Vacancy’. The makeshift motel looks runned-down and absolutely filthy. Henry and Patrick lead me to the front office. Opening the creaky wooden door on a spring, I walk in cautiously. I quickly become distracted by several different TV scenes that display [fake] murders taking place in the motel rooms by masked men. Blood-curdling screams fill my ears, making me even more thrown off guard. As I look around the office more, Patrick takes 2 long strides towards the front desk and rings the silver bell that is placed on the corner of the desk. I jump, flinching as he looks at me smirking. “I don’t think anyone is home.” He says in a sarcastic voice. Henry shoves me forward towards the back room now. He kneels down and opens a trap door. He looks up at me, “Ladies first.” Patrick snickers behind me as I cautiously started entering the crawlspace on my hands and knees. As I am crawling forward in the dirt ground, I feel Patrick smack and grab my ass causing me to jump, hitting my head in the cramped, narrow space. Patrick lets out a satisfied laugh. “You know, your ass is your only redeeming quality princess… that and your fear.” This earns a laugh from Henry, as well, who reaches under Patrick and grabs my ankle  unexpectedly; pulling me back. I let out a little yelp and eat dirt. They both start laughing again. Finally, we reach the end of the crawlspace. Patrick reaches over me and pushes up on the door to open it. I feel Patrick lift me slightly so I can pull myself out. I take note of my surroundings. That underground path lead us from the motel office, to now one of the bedrooms. As I straighten myself out, Henry and Patrick follow closely behind, climbing out of the craw-space, as well. Before I move forward I made the decision to grab Patrick’s hand despite what he said earlier about hand-holding.

Patrick looks down at me smirking but doesn't say anything. In fact, he actually holds my hand back, intertwining his fingers tightly between mine but I can tell there’s an ulterior motive behind his actions. The door handle to the motel bedroom begins to violently shake and jiggle. The door slowly opens revealing two men wearing masks. They are headed right towards me, their long legs approaching quickly. I try to back up but sadly I was still holding onto Patrick... or should I say he is holding onto me. At this point, Patrick picks me up and literally throws me onto the bed. The weight of his body is holding my legs down. As I’m struggling against Patrick, Henry walks over and holds my arms tightly above my head giving Patrick a better hold of my legs. The two masked men walk over and one of them pulls out a knife. Unlike the chainsaw from earlier, this was a very real and very sharp knife. In a taunting way, the masked men walk over slowly- one going to my left and the one with the knife going to my right. I begin to scream but it is quickly muffled by the man on my left covering my mouth. My anxiety takes over now, not able to take any more scares. I begin to see black slowly starting with my peripheral vision as it slowly covers the rest of my eyes. I begin to drift into unconsciousness. The last thing I head was the laughter of 4  recognizable guys and the muffled talking of Henry, Patrick, Vic, and Belch.

I woke up in my bed, the sun glaring down on my face. I sit up slowly, trying to remember how I even got here. Last thing I remember was being held down by those assholes in that terrifying motel room. I get out of bed and begin to stretch when I notice something hanging on my closet door. I hesitantly walked over to my closet seeing a note stuck to the door. The paper note was help up by a knife.. the same knife from last night! My breathing becomes shallow and hands shake as I read over the note. Still feeling jumpy, I jump when I hear Eddie’s and Richie’s loudmouths enter the front door. I bring my attention back to the note which reads~

I can’t get your screams or your scared face out of my mind. How about we try to recreate them in the bedroom? -Patrick

You’re my number one target now..scaredy-cat - Henry

[booksarelife-stuff]

our secret moments in a crowded room

Jily (James Potter/Lily Evans), minor Wolfstar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black)

My entry for the September Jily Challenge! @jilychallenge

Prompt: I tripped on the red carpet and you caught me

Partner was the amazing @kates836! Thank you for being an amazing partner!

In a fake PR relationship with Severus Snape, Lily can’t help be distracted by the real person who has her heart. 

Word Count: 4,077

Read of Ao3     Masterlist

The car took a sharp left and Lily tried to stabilize herself so she didn’t touch Severus, who was sitting beside her. She made eye contact with Mary, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Mary shot her the millionth apologetic look.

Lily glanced back down at her phone, just in time to see a reply to the picture that she had sent of her in her dress.

Ahdjsfhkjdsf I can’t breathe. How dare you send this to me right before I walk out on the red carpet.

She smiled widely down at her phone.

I don’t know how I’m going to function with you that close and can’t do anything about it.

She smiled faltered for a second, because yeah, that was truly going to be torture for her too.

I’m about to go out. I can’t wait to see you.

Lily bit her lip before typing a reply.

If you think this dress looks good on me now, wait until you take it off.

The message bubbles appeared instantly and Lily’s smile turned smug.

You shouldn’t have said that. I’m going to think about it all night now. Love you

Love you too

She locked her phone and handed it to Mary, who would be holding all of her personal items for the rest of the night. Severus sighed deeply beside her and Lily tried not to roll her eyes.

If Lily had it her way, she’d be arriving with a very different date. But Lily didn’t have a choice. What the studio wanted, the studio got. Including a semi-fake relationship with her co-star, Severus Snape.

They had just finished filming the final season of their wildly popular show, The Hollow Hour. The show definitely didn’t need this kind of press to be successful, but Lily still didn’t have a choice in the matter, considering she had already booked a leading role in another one of their shows.

On-screen, Lily and Snape played Tara and Gideon, characters who had been in love since they were children and fighting in a war where they possibly wouldn’t make it out. Off-screen, Lily could hardly stand the presence of Snape.

It didn’t start out that way. When they’d first met, Lily had thought he was pretty cool. The show had been her first big break, as she had only done television guest appearances before then. Snape had a few movies under his belt, one of which was super popular. Their friendship had started out as his kind of giving her direction when it came to the whole fame thing.

Then, it got a little invasive. He would just be in her trailer, coming in without knocking. He started asking for more date-like hangouts. His disgusting political beliefs started coming out through their conversations and his apparent hatred for their co-star, Remus Lupin because he was openly gay. And he started acting as she owed him something, especially since the show took off.

The rumors had started before Lily realized that Snape was the creep that he was. People saw them pining on screen and going out for the occasional drink after a long day when Lily could still stand him and suddenly, people thought they were in love.

It had been a real nuisance in Lily’s life. Every interview, she tried to squash the rumors, whereas Snape would encourage them. It didn’t help that the show got popular, like really insane amounts of popularity. The character shipping took a sharp left turn into people shipping them.

Snily, they called them. From fanfiction to edits and art to covers of glossy magazines. It was everywhere. No matter if Lily was doing interviews from one of her movies, they would ask about Snape.

And since Lily was some sort of a masochist, she knew exactly what the fans thought of their relationship. They thought Lily denied the relationship because she was very private about her life, and Snape would never say it outright because he wanted to respect her but also wanted the world to know that she is his.

It didn’t help that Snape had accumulated a very dedicated fanbase. Like worship-the-ground-he-walked-on kind of dedication. To the point where Lily would get occasional death threats because she was “hurting him by denying their relationship.”

They never seemed to believe Lily when she said no, much like Snape and their studio. Lily couldn’t flat out deny the relationship in interviews anymore until after the final episode. It made her want to dry heave.

The car was slowing, and Lily could hear the buzz of fans and reporters. They were in the queue now for the red carpet. Mary unbuckled and twisted around in the seat, doing a final check of Lily’s hair and make-up.

Lily smoothed down her green satin dress, her legs bent awkwardly to not crease the dress and also not puncture the fabric with her stiletto pumps. Lily’s after-party dress was hanging up in the back, but Lily didn’t know if she was actually going to attend.

It had taken her a long time to feel beautiful at these types of events. Being considered plus size in this industry felt like a death sentence, especially since Lily refused to play the “funny fat friend” or anything like that. But she felt good tonight, especially with the way it hugged her curves and the bit of cleavage showed.

Severus looked like himself, just in a suit. His greasy hair was covered in dry shampoo and tucked behind his ears. He turned towards Lily and smiled like a cat who got the cream.

“We could make this real, you know?” he said, for probably the millionth time. “You and I would work.”

Lily tried not to crinkle her nose in disgust. “Severus,” she said. “You know I have no interest in that.”

There had been many times where Lily wished she could speak her mind and rip him a new one, but she could not get branded as a diva. So, she played off these uncomfortable moments with a laugh and polite words, even when she was telling him no for the millionth time.

She saw the corner of his lips turn down in a slight frown and averted her eyes to stare straight ahead.

The voices outside got louder and suddenly the car was stopping. Mary jumped out of the car quickly as Lily unbuckled. Moody, Lily’s driver, and bodyguard, also got out quickly to open Lily’s door.

She had to take Moody’s hand to step out. She wobbled when she shifted her weight to her high heels but quickly corrected herself. She was going to have blisters for weeks after tonight. Mary appeared from the other side of the car, hands already straightening Lily’s dress.

They were covered from the cameras here, so no one saw Mary make sure Lily’s breasts were firmly taped into the dress. The low cut of the dress required her boobs to be placed perfectly and one slip would probably cost Lily her career. That’s why Lily had Mary, her best friend since they were children and who now worked as her PA. The back of the dress was practically nonexistent and her long auburn waves tickled her with every movement.

Mary quickly batted away one of her dark coily curls that snuck out of its bun before giving Lily a once over.

“You look gorgeous,” she said, smiling. “He’s not going to want to take his eyes off of you.”

Lily gave her a real smile and a quick hug before stepping away to get around the car where Severus was surely waiting. She already had her red carpet smile on and tried not to pay attention to the up and down look Severus was giving her.

Severus reached out his arm to escort Lily, but Lily walked past it. They said they had to arrive together, not actually walk together. Mary let out a snort of laughter as she followed Lily out to the carpet—to walk with Lily but hidden away.

The lights were blinding as Lily walked out on the carpet. Cameras flashing every second, people yelling questions at her. Lily was now a pro at this, after so many years of practice. The screams intensified, signaling Snape was now making his appearance.

Lily moved slowly down the carpet, making sure her smile stayed in place. Towards the end of her walk, Snape did sneak up on her, wrapping an arm around her waist taking extra care to let his fingers drag against her bare skin. She fought to not recoil away from him.

She smiled and laughed though she wanted to push him away.

The entrance to Royal Albert Hall was full of reporters and cameras. Lily never really minded this part of the red carpet because most of the time it was just questions like “who are you wearing?” or the occasional fun game with whatever fledgling media company had weaseled reporters in.

Lily was heading towards the first available reporter, a young woman who was smiling widely as Lily approached. But a familiar head of dark curls caught her eye, and she couldn’t help the way her attention turned immediately that way.

It had been six weeks since her boyfriend of three years had touched her. Six weeks since she had felt the indentation of him next to her in bed, felt his warmth, had him within her fingertips.

And James looked so good, it made Lily want to pull him away and find the nearest secluded spot. The way his tailored suit hugged the angles of his body, the body that she knew like it her own.

She could feel her heart start pounding in her chest, and she hoped the cameras weren’t picking up the way her hands were shaking.

“Lily Evans!” the young reporter cheered. “How are you on this fine evening?”

“I’m doing great,” Lily said, smiling and resisting the urge to look at James.

“So, you arrived with rumored beau and co-star, Severus Snape,” the reporter cheered. “Care to confirm anything?”

Lily fake laughed. “We just carpooled. Better for the environment.”

The girl’s face tightened a bit, but the reporter knew better than to press.

Lily answered her questions with ease. Who was she wearing? Did she feel good about her role as a presenter? What was she going to do after the final season of The Hollow Hour?

Once the interview concluded, she turned to go to the next reporter.

But there was James, looking at her with a slight smile on his lips. His dark brown eyes did a quick once over of her, appraising her every curve quickly. And goddamn, he wore his glasses instead of his contacts, reminding Lily of the quiet moments in her flat where they were tangled together, his glasses pushing into her face. His normal frizzy curls were more defined thanks to whatever hair product his stylist made him use. His brown skin was as flawless as ever, glowing in the camera flashes in the fading day.

It couldn’t have been more than a moment where their eyes met, but it was enough to thoroughly distract Lily to the point of missing the small bump in the carpet. Her shoe caught and the sensation of falling happened before she felt strong arms catch her.

“Are you okay?” James asked as Lily’s world steadied in his arms, the concern in his eyes.

Lily felt her cheeks redden, both from the embarrassment of tripping on the red carpet and the fact that she was in James’s arms. She nodded but when she stepped back, her right shoe gave out.

She moved away from James’s arms, but took his hand, their fingers clasping each other, to keep her balance as she lifted her dress up to see the heel completely snapped off.

“Well, that’s great,” she said with a laugh. James laughed with her. She wobbled for a second and James’s hand grabbed her side to steady her, his fingers making her burn.

Lily couldn’t help but smile softly at him as Mary appeared, getting on her knees in front of Lily, urging her to turn slightly. She let go of James’s hand and used his shoulder to keep her balance as Mary undid the straps on Lily’s shoes. Mary, who was definitely getting a raise after this, took off her own black kitten heels and gave them to Lily.

She was now several inches shorter and her dress dragged a bit on the ground, but it was better than no shoes at all.

“I owe you my life,” Lily told Mary, who smiled in response. Lily didn’t miss the way she gave James a glance and then a teasing smile back to her. She turned back to James. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” he replied. “I’ll see you around?”

She wanted to say that she would see him tonight, preferably with no clothes, but she just smiled and nodded in response.

As she let go and James stepped away, the last thing on her mind was the cameras catching every moment.

~~~

To Lily’s detriment, her manager had called Mary to tell Lily that she had to be seen at the after-party with Snape.

Lily tried not to recoil at Severus’s hand on her lower back as he led her to the after-party. The cameras were blinding against the darkness of the night, but Lily let herself be led into the venue, Moody doing his best to push back against the raging crowd.

The venue only had a few selective members of the press inside, but it was little enough that it put all the celebrities at ease. There was no real food, just snacks because seeing your favorite movie star get sloshed would sell magazines and get them trending on Twitter.

Lily’s stomach growled. She couldn’t remember the last full meal she had.

Severus kept a firm hand on her back. She smiled and laughed at the right times as they talked with winners from the night. A live band started and Lily’s ears rang with the loud music. She kept knocking back glasses of champagne because at least the buzz would take the edge off the hungry looks in Severus’s eyes and make her not recoil when he tried to whisper in her ear.

Her saving grace came in the form of Remus Lupin somewhere south of midnight.

She came back from the loo and purposefully walked away from where she knew Severus was waiting. The alcohol was thrumming through her veins, and she felt light. Her shoes—or Mary’s shoes—had been kicked off long ago, and she was stumbling through the crowds of famous people.

Remus stood at the picked-over snack table, probably looking for any scraps of leftover chocolate. He had been Lily’s co-star since day one and her favorite to boot. Severus hated him, mostly because Lily liked him more, but also because he was openly gay and in a long-term relationship with the model, Sirius Black, who Snape also hated.

Remus had been the reason she and James met. She also knew that where Remus was, Sirius wasn’t far, and if Sirius wasn’t far, neither was James.

And she wanted to see James more than anything.

“Boo,” she said, poking Remus’s side. The man jumped, almost dropping his chocolate-covered strawberry.

“Bloody hell, Evans,” he said. Lily laughed, already feeling better. She clumsily picked up a biscuit and took a bite.

“How’s your night been going?” she asked. Remus let out an amused huff.

“Same old, same old,” he said. “You?”

Lily didn’t respond and Remus laughed, knowing exactly how her night had been going. They grabbed a few more snacks and Lily proceeded to follow him, hoping that he would lead her to the person she needed to see.

James was sitting at a table across from Sirius, and Lily’s heart immediately started beating rapidly. His suit jacket and tie were gone, just leaving him in his tight white button-up. The top buttons were undone, hinting at his chest that Lily knew better than the back of her own hand.

The sluggish haze of the alcohol in her system reminded her of when they first met. It had been at The Hollow Hour season one wrap party, and Remus had invited James and Sirius. He had caught her eye from across the room, the curly black hair and glasses were a dangerous combination for Lily, especially with the dark jeans that had hugged his very nice arse. She was so nervous that she had had to take a shot before she walked over to have Remus introduce her.

She had taken him home and when she woke up in the morning, recovering from the best sex she had ever had in her life, she found him making breakfast for her.

He stayed the whole weekend.

Then they texted non-stop and started having dates, sitting in Lily’s apartment with take-away and cheesy movies.

And here they were, three years later, hopelessly in love, and pretending that they weren’t because her stupid television show needed promoting.

It hadn’t been meant to be a secret for so long. In the beginning, they just wanted to figure each other out without all the press breathing down their necks. It’s just how it all happened.

It wasn’t like the important people in their lives didn’t know. Their parents and most trusted friends did. And they already decided that once the whole thing with Snape stopped, they were going to go public because they wanted to move in together and finally go on real dates.

Lily saw the way he perked up when he saw her. A small smile on his lips, his shoulders moving back. There was a moment when Lily could have sworn that there were no other people in the room until someone bumped into her.

She slid into the booth beside him, not caring about how dangerous that was, especially when their legs touched.

“Hey,” he said, his deep voice tugging at her in a way she missed while he was gone.

“Hey,” she replied. She could tear her eyes away from him and she didn’t know if she wanted to, either.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius said, not even jarring the couple. “Get out of here before you start shagging on the table.”

James raised his eyebrows in question, which Lily answered with a smile. He reached down for his pockets.

“I’m texting Moody,” he said.

Anticipation pooled in her stomach and as she grabbed another biscuit to eat because it was something to do, her hands shook. James placed his hands on Lily’s thigh and she couldn’t think of anything else until he leaned over and told her that Moody said it was all clear.

Even in her drunk state, she located her shoes and practically sprinted to the back door where Moody was waiting.

There were a few paparazzi pictures taken as Lily quickly hopped into the back of the SUV and Moody got into the driver’s seat. He handed her her small bag that had her phone in it that Mary had been carrying. She was too excited to even get her phone out as Moody did two laps around the block before pulling right back into the same spot.

The second James jumped in and the door was closed, Lily was on him. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her, meeting their lips in a deep, but sloppy kiss. Lily kicked her legs up onto his lap and pulled him down as laid down the best she could in the back seat. James laughed a little against her lips, causing Lily to pull away and laugh too.

“Next year, we’re going to this together,” she said, opening her eyes to see him in whatever light that shone in from the windows. She got flashes of his eyes and his wide smile as she sat up, still keeping her legs on her.

“Absolutely,” he replied, pressing a light kiss to her lips. “And we’re going to still traumatize Moody on the way home.”

Said man let out a snort. “No, I’m getting a divider.”

Lily barely remembers the rest of the car ride and getting to her flat. All she remembers is the taste of James’s lips and the feeling of his hands on her.

~~~

The blaring noise of a phone call is what made Lily wake up. She jumped violently, kicking James in the process, who let out a pained groan as Lily disentangled herself from him to be able to reach her nightstand to turn off the god-forsaken ear-splitting sound.

Her hand smacked into the nightstand, but her phone wasn’t there. She realized it must be James’s.

She nudged him and he groaned, but she could feel him move around in the bed. Finally, it stopped and James spoke.

“Hello?” he fell silent. “What are you talking about?”

Lily, who was already falling asleep again, opened her eyes at his tone and suddenly, he was shaking her.

“I’ll call you back Sirius,” James said as Lily sat up.

He hung up the call and threw his phone down on the bed. He tugged at his hair as Lily watched him with wide eyes.

“They know about us,” he said.

“What?” Lily exclaimed, reaching for his phone.

She typed in the passcode and saw the million phone calls from his manager and publicist. She opened Twitter, and right there, trending number one, was a still of James’s arm around her when she broke her shoe.

"Lily Evans, caught in a love triangle."

"Actress Lily Evans and actor James Potter are rumored to have left the BAFTA after-party together despite Evans arriving with Severus Snape."

She clicked on the first article while her stomach soured.

"Lily Evans and Severus Snape have long been rumored to have been dating, but last night’s events have seemingly squashed the rumors for good."

The article went into detail about the rumors between Lily and Severus, before finally getting to last night.

"James Potter, actor, best known in his role on the popular historical drama "Mountainside Valley', was able to catch Evans on the red carpet when her shoe broke. The footage from the cameras that were rolling by the pair has been released.

According to sources, the two are familiar with each other. Lily’s co-star, Remus Lupin is both friends with Potter and is even dating his adoptive brother Sirius Black, so we can speculate that they have met before. Based on the videos, they do seem to be familiar with each other.

What really solidified the relationship between the two actors comes from an unknown source who attended the after-party. 'She sat next to him and then a few minutes later, they left.'

Fans seem to be having a lot of mixed reactions to Evan’s alleged actions.

@snapewife45346 wrote: 'ALL LILY HAS EVER DONE IS HURT HIM. HE NEEDS TO LEAVE HER ASS FOR GOOD!!'

@snnnily394 on Twitter wrote: 'i don’t think it’s true. She would never do that to him.'

@taraisgod wrote: 'They have never said they’re in a relationship, you all are just projecting. Let her be happy!!'

@mountainbaddie wrote: 'Evans UPGRADED'

Lily set down James’s phone, unable to do anything else. She met his eyes and took a deep breath.

Her gut reaction was that it sucked. It sucked that they didn't come out on their own terms. The studio was probably pissed, or maybe they thought the bad press was good press.

But as she looked at James, sitting beside her on his side of the bed, the bed he only rarely got to occupy these days, she realized that maybe it was a blessing.

“We could deny it,” James said, a frown tugging at his lips. “Say that we’re best friends if you think that’s what the studio would want.”

Lily shook her head. “I don’t want you like a best friend. I don’t want to deny myself of you anymore.”

He smiled, soft and sweet. Lily yanked the bedsheets off of herself and crawled over to him, straddling his legs. She was only wearing a pair of knickers and one of his t-shirts. His hands immediately snuck up the shirt and caressed her hips, his thumbs teasing her panties.

“Joint statement?” he asked, as Lily leaned in. She kissed him soundly.

“In a minute,” she said, kissing him again.

[lazywonderlvnd]

Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly. 

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him. 

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it. 

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

*

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning. 

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences. 

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils. 

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn’t point it out.

*

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

*

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather. 

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

 At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.