#apparently if I sleep too much then I come to work already amped and out of pocket

[witchcraftingboop]

Me: What is the opposite of sleep deprivation? Because I have that!

Work Bestie, mid-sandwich bite: ... Well rested? Hyper?

Me: Yes, that one! Hyper!!

Work Bestie, laughing: Get out of my office

[3cremepie3]

Hi, there! :D

Since orders are open, I would like to place an order:

Reader: Female

Type: Headcanons

Scenary:

I imagined a scenario where the prefect is gaining recognition and popularity in other schools for being the human without magic who has faced many magical challenges. And some boys from RSA and Noble Bell College want to try to woo the prefect and convince her to change schools.

What would the NCR guys do in this situation?

Linger

Sypnopsis- How Leona, Vil, and Cater would react to Y/n who’s getting to much attention from NRC students.

Warnings - jealousy, bribing, slight violence, corruption

A/n - This is literally so late I’m so sorry love thanks for formatting it like this it was so easy to write.

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Leona

Is the king of nochlantness. Someone flirted with you? He doesn’t care he trusts you. The both of you have been together for months now and you would barely dream of looking at another man. You were already caught up on each other. Or so you thought.

“I love you Y/n.” Your blushing friend had explained after gym class. You had only known him for the semester but he seemed to growing a bit too attached. “Oh,” you cringed. “I have a boyfriend you know,” you explained. “I don’t care about him I wouldn’t mind being a side chick.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him off he was already on his knees begging for your answer. But a supposed-to-be sleeping lion awakened and stood at your side. “Get up you bastard,” he chuckled. Your friend not being aware of Leona’s presence before ( probably because he was sleeping underneath the benches) hand began to tremble.

“I didn’t know you needed hearing aids,” Leona seethed. He picked your friend up by his collar which slowly began to disintegrate. You hadn’t noticed it before but he began to use magic. “I-I,” he stuttered. Leona’s magic amped up and your ex-friends shirt was completely gone by now.

His powers were dangerously close to reaching his skin. But despite his low growling Leona gained composure letting him go in the nick of time. Your friend scrambled away screaming at the top of his lungs about the danger. “That’s why you don’t wake a sleeping lion,” Leona sighed.

Vil

Vil doesn't get jealous or he’s not supposed to at least. He has enough beauty to win all the pageants in the world why would he be worried about that ugly pedestrian? That's because he kept making you blush.

Vil was aware of the fact that he was critical but he complimented you at times. Like when he brought you that fur coat and those posh heels. You looked lovely and he told you so by saying “You look alright tonight.” Maybe it’s because he wasn’t affectionate like this homewrecking hoe. Either way, he had to do something.

“You heard me right I’ll refuse to work here any longer.” He must go,” Vil smirked. You had no idea why Vil was so happy after coming out of the meeting with the director. But Vil sure knew why, he promised the director he would quit if that guy wasn’t automatically kicked off of the set.

And him being a high profile actor had his wish come true! Now there was no pesky fly in your ear and Vil would be the only one whispering sweet nothings!

Cater

“Y/n he’s like so canceled right now you can’t hang out with him,” Cater declared. “Huh what did he do,” you asked. “He’s a misogynist,” Cater frowned. Your heart immediately dropped how could someone who treated you so kindly be like that?

“Yeah apparently in 2020 the cursed year he was an incel.” Cater made a gagging sound afterwards awaiting your reaction to the news. Although your friend had apologized he still had problematic behavior.

Well, at least Cater saw it that way he was a pick-me. He could never go through the school day without feeling exhausted and not leaning on your shoulder. The final straw for Cater was when he laid in your lap. That’s when Cater decided that he “needed dirt on him.”

And he didn’t expect to find that much but the payoff worked amazingly. You had successfully cut him off now Cater would be the only guy your mind would be stuck to linger on.

[milkyplier]

For your letter ask game: Y

Y - IAU Legend Gets Stabbed but Different

This one is clearly set in @skyward-floored’s Incredibles AU XD it was one of many attempts at writing a gift (which is still in the works) for her. It was an attempt at a sequel to her Febuwhump Day 14, Bloodstained Tiles, in which Legend gets stabbed after sneaking out and Wild and Wind help him. I tried this approach more than once before deciding it wasn’t going to work out XD a few other letters have been assigned to some of these other attempts :)

I also just thought this wasn’t very well written, hence I abandoned it. I struggle to continue things I perceive as done badly. Here’s the entirety of this snippet:

When Malon wakes up in the morning, Legend has caught whatever Hyrule had, and Hyrule was worse than he was yesterday. At least, that’s what it seemed like. But a cold did not really account for how weak and shaky Legend was when he got up. It was also strange that it seemed to have come out of nowhere, with no sore throat, no sniffles or coughs or reluctance to eat. In fact, Legend was starving, and thirsty. Oddly enough, she also finds several of her towels in the drier, and the bathroom has a just-cleaned shine. Four, Wild and Wind all have circles under their eyes. She asks them all what happened, and they claim Hyrule was really sick last night. Like, super sick, and he threw up a lot and they didn’t want to bother her or Time and just cleaned it up themselves. Malon is inclined to believe it, especially when Hyrule seems to get similarly sick later that same day. So she brushes it off, and forgets about it—an easy feat in a house of eight people. For a while, at least.

- some years later -

A nightmare wakes Malon. She tries, to no avail, to fall back asleep for perhaps twenty minutes before she acknowledges the lingering anxiety from the dream and decides a cup of chamomile tea will settle her nerves and help her get back to sleep.

Careful not to jostle her husband too much (though it hardly mattered, the man slept like a rock), she slipped out of bed, wrapped herself in her silky robe and tucked her feet into her worn slippers before shuffling quietly into the kitchen.

The house is silent, a fact which in itself makes Malon feel better. Once upon a time, such silence unnerved her, but nowadays, she knows it means all her boys are asleep, safe and warm in their beds and there is something comforting to her about that. She doesn’t quite know why, but she doesn’t complain and keeps going towards the kitchen. When she gets to the kitchen, however, she’s surprised to see someone already there.

She thinks one of her sons must have gotten a snack—Wild is known to get the munchies at night—but the figure’s build doesn’t match Wild’s. On top of that, Wild’s midnight snacks usually consist of whatever ancient, long-lost things he finds in the pantry. When she finds him in the kitchen at night, he’s haunched over an expired bag of animal crackers. Not haunched over the sink, murmuring to himself and apparently playing in the water by the light of his phone’s flashlight.

A bad feeling rises in Malon’s stomach. She doesn’t know why.

“Legend…?” She says softly, able to recognize her son even in the terrible, low light. He freezes, glances over his shoulder at his mom.

“Mom! Hi,” his voice is slightly strained. “What are you doing awake at this hour? Are you alright?”

She frowns. She knows that tone, the inflection. He’s amping up the concern, trying to distract her from him by acting extra sweet. It’s something all her boys do when they don’t want her noticing something. It has worked very few times without her allowing it to. This won’t be one of them.

“I could ask the same of you,” she says. She keeps her words firm, but light, so he knows he won’t be getting out of this but she isn’t angry.

“Uhh…” he hands shift nervously in the sink water. He doesn’t say anything.

She approaches him, flicking on the kitchen lights. She looks into the sink and sees his super suit, submerged in cloudy reddish water. Legend’s arms are covered in cuts and bruises, and he won’t look at her.

“Legend. Look at me.”

His shoulders are tense. After a second, he turns his face to look down into the sink water, rather than at her. It’s enough to get a visual on what she wanted—a blossoming black eye, split lip and other minor nicks on his face.

“You went out, didn’t you.”

His silence is answer enough.

“Legend…” Malon struggles to find the words, caught between worry and anger born of worry. “Legend…I—“

“I know the risks.” Legend cuts in. “I know. I know what you and dad said. I’m not stupid, or deaf. People need help. And I can help them.”

“…That’s not—“

“I do help them, in fact, I saved a dozen lives tonight. And I didn’t die, I can hold my own. I don’t need to be babied or anything, I can handle my own consequences.”

[obeymeluv]

Signs they Love You (Pt. 2)

This semester is almost over and while the teacher is a bit disorganized, I have a semblance of breathing room. I thought I’d pop this out real quick and maybe something smaller. Baby-related thing still pending. I want to do it, just not quite enough time yet.

Part 2 has Asmo, Beel, and Belphie.

Belphie’s is not long AT ALL because...well, it’s Belphie. And it’s me. I’m so-so with Belphie.

Asmodeus

For once, his charm and sin is a double-edged sword

Yes, he’s very experienced and has had many lovers--many splendid little things over hundreds of years--but how to make it unique? How to tell you?

Asmo is very calculated in how he flirts, from what he wears and what he plans to say. He personally believes every relationship should be special. No repeated dates unless both people have a preference for it

So when he decides he likes you, the first thing he does is pull out this BIG ASS BOOK he’s kept for centuries and leafs through it to see what he’s done before

 No, it doesn’t matter that 99% of these dates were AGES before you were born. He’s checking the list because YOU DESERVE A SPECIAL DATE!

He’s secretly hoping you’ll get some of the many hints he’ll be dropping, but consulting the book is also a good idea for an official first date

After two weeks of shopping with you, taking spa days, trying to weasel his way into more cuddles, Asmo decides it’s time to pull out The Book idea because you’re not getting it

You’re just distracted by his beauty to see the fact that he’s trying to flirt. It’s fine.

This date idea requires the big guns (really only Diavolo, but he needs Lucifer to get to Diavolo). He’s setting his plan into motion, trying to sweet-talk Lucifer into taking him by Diavolo’s castle but Mammon overhears

The second-eldest is very unimpressed, DARES to mock him while sipping noisily on a soda, and just asks him why he doesn’t tell you straight up.

“Because it’s a stupid, tasteless idea.” Asmodeus scoffs and shoos him away like an annoying little thing as he amps up the charm and resumes his conversation with Lucifer.

“Bet it’ll work.” is all he hears Mammon murmur.

“Look,” Mammon shrugs. flicks his eyes to Asmo and then just nods his head towards you as you come around the corner into the dining room. “You just man up and say, ‘Do you--SMFF!”)

Asmo has never strangled anyone to death but today it might happen

Or he’s going to break this new six inch heel off in Mammon’s mouth (or his ass)

With Mammon sufficiently strangled (or choking on his soda, he’s not sure which) Asmo, plays it cool (barely) as you pass through to do something else (thank god!)

Highly amused, Lucifer agrees to help him

By the end of the week Asmodeus has a cute greenhouse picnic planned. Only Satan and Lucifer know

He’s pretty scarce around the House of Lamentation, even turning Solomon down once or twice, but it’s all worth it for the set up. He even bought special flowers

Barbatos escorts you through the winding greenhouse that almost seems lush and trim enough to be part of the Royal Gardens. He stops just before a manicured arch of flowers, the walkway studded with garden lights, stepping stones, and beautiful roses

He goads you forward, sending you on your way. The little roses perk up and explode into gorgeous blooms

And they’re talking?! One of the notecards say they’re a Devildom brand of rose--a mimicrose. The flower acts like a recorded, hiding a secret message, and blooms when it’s delivered to the right person

Your face lights up a gorgeous flattered color as you make your way down the trail compliments popping up every step

Asmo’s waiting at the end of the arches, looking like the cat that ate the canary with his catered spread. Sitting pretty on the classic checkered blanket.  

You only kind of hear the last rose confess--Asmo’s voice going quiet and shy as he swears he really, really loves you

The demon in front of you seems very far from that shy voice but you catch the tinge of pink on his cheeks. He saunters up to you and says something witty about how only he could be perfect for you, and that only perfect him could set all this up!

You two have a cute, quiet date with little cakes and finger foods

Diavolo sends Lucifer a text with a blurry photo saying he ‘photobombed’ you two, but doesn’t realize he has to be in the photo for it to count. Lucifer still thinks it’s a cute picture

Beelzebub:

It takes Beel a while to come around to the fact that he might like you

Not because he doesn’t like you, but because he’s equally comfy being friends. Friends are fine, too.

Even as a friend he still gets that giddy rush when he holds you, that flood of warmth when he impresses you, so for a while he thinks he has the best of both worlds

When that balance starts to feel threatened, the realization creeps in

Then he realizes there’s no going back and if he doesn’t say anything, you get caught up with other people and he’ll miss you. You just won’t be around as much anymore!

 When someone on the Fangol team starts getting a little too curious and close, the red flags go flying in Beel’s mind. He needs to tell you and tell you now!

Probably doesn’t have an extensive dating history and is, in general, the best sweet boi, so he’ll ask around for ideas. The second someone suggests a cupcake message or cake message, he’s done. No more ideas! That’s the best one!

To put his feelings in it, Beel decides to make the cupcakes himself. He buys enough to make 3 or 4 dozen cupcakes because he anticipates stress eating at least two batches

And the ugly ones. Can’t give you ugly ones!

He takes full advantage of Asmo or whoever getting you out of the house, throwing on a little apron and getting to work. Belphie supervises, occasionally scolding him

Beel eats a few cupcakes more than he’s supposed to and decides to draw frosting people so the space doesn’t feel empty

His frosting spelling isn’t that great. One of the words look weird. More than one, actually

Trying to write over it just makes extra frosting, unreadable globs

Beel eats that one, then realizes he messed up some of the topping, so he smooths it out and tries again

Belphie plays wingman, fully aware of his brother panicking over presentation and trying to spell (and not squeeze the life out of the frosting bag), and writes little love messages on the wrappers

It’s stuff he’s heard Beel say in his sleep for at least a week.

Beel resigns himself to a mash of cupcakes that are kind of readable and way less than what he planned to have. He doesn’t know Belphie’s done a gradual bait and switch of the cupcake liners since he’s eaten just as many as he’s made

You see a smiley face and the frosting people and it’s enough to melt your heart

Beel is speckled in flour and frosting (he’s got crumbs on the corner of his mouth), and he looks adorably awkward in the apron. He’s so nervous he’s in his demon form, wings buzzing frantically behind him.

It’s like he wants to take off and make nervous circles around you.

He stutters out an awkward ‘I like you’ and mumbles other things. Belphie, who’s curled up under the prep table, grumbles out ‘READ THE LINERS!’ before snuggling down again

You and Beel go on a cute little hunt to pick and read the wrappers, splitting cupcakes with each other.

At the end of it you’re very full and very happy. And Beel’s extra delighted because you smell (and taste) like cupcakes.

Belphegor

Does he like you like you, or just like the fact that you don’t bother him?

In his book, you’re not terrible. Not annoying. You don’t wake him up on purpose, and you seem to get along with Beel.

Not bad, right?

Maybe this means he just doesn’t have high standards?

He knows he wouldn’t mind napping with you. Maybe that means he likes you?

One night, when he’s hit that ‘slept all day’ high and he’s awake and thinking it over. He asks Beel about it because who else would know him better than his twin?

Then he learns. OH BOY DOES HE LEARN!

Apparently he talks about you in his sleep? And he blushes? CUDDLES THE PILLOW?

Beel is hardly worried about the threats, the finger pointing in his face, and the way he’s bobbing his head like a bull about to charge. It’s just standard little brother things! Very cute!

Belphegor feels bad and a little unworthy to date you. His sin is very taxing and he spends a lot of the time napping. Is it really a good idea?

It’s a heavy issue to think about, and he dreams.

Belphegor has always believed that dreams are a way for you to work out the issues you have when you’re awake, so he’s not surprised to dream about you

The dreams are so vivid, so heart-warming, and he’s so happy. It’s all about you and him--snippets of dates that he can’t completely see. He’s not sure where you’re at or what led up to the moments, but they’re all a happy, quiet cuddle that gives him more energy than he’s felt in a while

He knows, then, that he should at least ask you. When he gets his next burst of rested energy, he’s going to confess

Belphegor’s nearly scared straight out of bed when he sees you tentatively approaching it. He musters up enough concentration to hold a conversation and is VERY embarrassed to find he basically called you here

Almost like a subliminal message, or sharing a dream, you just simply had to come and tell him about the adorably awkward dream. It was very cuddly and kind of put you in a cuddling mood

Belphegor’s got a major case of sleep brain but it sounds like YOU actually just confessed

Plays the big card--go big or go home!--”If you like me, get in the bed.”

Realizes about 3 seconds later how that sounds. Is very embarrassed and wants to hide under his blankets and die. 

He’s already wormed under them and is firmly cocooned (so he doesn’t have to look you in the face or see if you stay) “You know...if you like me. Want to cuddle and stuff...like a couple...”

He feels your weight spread out along his bed and scoops you up like a blanket monster. It’s like being swallowed by a fitted sheet, blanket coming at you from all sides, and you both laugh about it.

Belphegor is a big fan of the private cuddle pile

[joheun-saram]

To Make A Power Couple (knj) | 8

Chapter 8: Housewarming

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Finally moved in together, Namjoon and Y/N relish their time together despite their schedules and stupid misunderstandings

word count- 8.8k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, smut, slight angst

warnings- extreme domestic fluff, mention of parental death, alcohol consumption, kink shaming (kinda? idk man), dom!joon, sub!reader, smut (unprotected sex, fingering, rough sex, marking, somewhat daddy kink, orgasm denial), safeword use (yellow), Namjoon being whipped but also being a dumbass, Y/N just trying to chill, Namjoon’s obsessed with her ass ig

a.n- apologies for this chapter taking literally forever! but i give you fluff for your patience. so much fluff omg. can i move in with joon already? but also we cant have this much fluff without a sprinkle of angst. 

special s/o to @himbojk​,  @pars-ley​, and @s0seo​ for beta reading parts for me  and easing my worries 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond, @asdfghjklqwertyv, @cheesecakes-randomshitz​, @goldenjongho

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“Are you sure about this? It’s only been six months honey.” Your mother looked at you through the screen and you felt your heart tighten. She had that worried look on her face, the one that tells you that she will respect your decision but isn’t too happy about it. She looked different too, the wrinkles around her eyes more pronounced as she frowned and you wish you could convince her of your decision.

“Seven, actually. I love him, mom. I thought you liked him?” She had been nothing but supportive of your relationship, trusting you to make the right decisions. It had been the two of you for so long when you were younger that it always felt weird that you were on your own now. When your father had passed away when you were starting high school, she had done everything in her power to ensure you never felt like you were down a parent. As a senior partner at a management consultancy, she had long hours and business trips but she always picked you up from school and often took you with her on her business trips. Her trips are the reason that by the time you finished high school, you had been to pretty much every major city in North America. Not to mention that watching her working is the reason you were so good at what you did now. 

You remember when the first year after your father’s death you had to go to a father-daughter school dance and she donned one of his old suits to take you. You danced with her that night, surrounded by your peers and their fathers, but smiling at her as you nuzzled into her neck, her scent mingling with your dad’s on the clothes. You felt safe and you decided you never wanted to disappoint her. Maybe that’s where your drive to succeed came from - from ensuring that your mom, who worked long hours but still had a homemade dinner on the table when you came back from school, was proud of you.

“I do like him, honey. Namjoon is probably the best boyfriend you’ve had. I’m just worried you both are moving too fast.” She sighed as she sipped her tea. “He’s a rockstar, I just want you to be happy but what if things changed?”

“A rockstar?” You giggled. Sometimes you forgot that your mom was kind of old school, not beyond judging a book by its cover. “He’d probably die of embarrassment to hear you say that.”

“Y/N I’m just saying. Be careful with your heart.” Her voice was stern as she looked at you through the screen, her eyes narrowed with her warning.

“I know mom. I’m sorry. I trust him, you know. I don’t think I knew what love was till I met him. Having him around makes me feel safe, less lonely.”

“He’s still responsible for my daughter being in a cast.” After the incident, your mother had grown a bit wary of your relationship. She knew he was famous but she never realised just how many sacrifices the two of you had made to be together. You knew she was aware that Namjoon would never hurt you but you still felt bad that she was worrying over what was an anomaly. Speaking to Namjoon, you knew that something of the sort had never happened to him and his members, even to his other idol friends. The thought of it being such a rare occurrence had given you assurance and you hoped it would translate to your worried mother an ocean away.

“Mom! It’s not his fault. We’ve been over this!”

“I know, I know. I’m your mom. I’m just worried.” She sighed as she resigned from the conversation. You knew your mom had your best interests at heart but she didn’t know Namjoon like you did. She had met him twice over the screen and then had spent countless hours googling him and sending you clips of him breaking things with texts calling him out (“he better not be this clumsy with your heart”). You love her but you never know how to convince her that she had nothing to worry about. “Anyways, how’s my favourite son Harry?”

And so the conversation moved on from her qualms about your soon-to-be live-in boyfriend to your business as you told her about the plans you had for your company and talked about your friends. As you went to bed after hanging up, you looked at the empty side. It was the first time in weeks you were sleeping without your boyfriend but you were giddy as you thought about the morning when he would finally move in and you would never see that empty side again.

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“Baby why are all your shelves empty? Why have I never noticed this before?” Namjoon stood frowning in the kitchen with a box of his dishes and cutlery, something you made fun of him about since he notoriously lives on take out, as he placed his plates in the shelves above your kitchen counters.  

“Really Joon? Do you know who you’re dating?” You giggled as you hopped off the counter you were sitting at and stood next to him. Reaching up to extend your uninjured hand as far as it could, you looked at him as you just about reached the bottom shelf. You were not that short but whoever designed this apartment thought the shelves looked extra elegant if they were extra high. 

“Aw! You’re so cute!” He cooed as he patted your head condescendingly, causing you to scowl and narrow your eyes at him. Before you could retort, he put his arms around your waist lifting you so you were eye level with the shelves. “See? Now you can reach! Teamwork!”

You laughed as he put you down, turning around to wrap your arm around him. “Can’t believe we live together now,” you whispered into his chest as you felt him kiss the top of your head. Placing your chin against him you looked up, speaking in a hushed tone. “Promise me you won’t start hating me and my little quirks.”

“I could never hate you, as long as you promise not to get annoyed by me practicing in our living room.” Namjoon looked at you with a wide smile, as he cupped your face, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. You hugged him as you looked across the kitchen island towards your large living room. The large shelf in the corner that once only housed only your books and vinyls was now filled with pieces of your boyfriend. The top shelves had his books with his own organization system (apparently organizing books based on colours was too chaotic for him) as his little collectible figurines stood at random places. Not to mention the tiny baby shoes he had added on one of the shelves (“They’re just cute! I’m totally not picturing a cute fat baby with your doe eyes!”). 

You both had added another shelf near the balcony that now housed his extensive plant collection, in fact you had never seen this apartment more green, little plants scattered in the corners. In addition to your framed posters, there were now paintings from his collection, eclectic pieces that lit the blank white walls in color. You both had even moved the couch to the corner and added a mirror on the nearby wall that not only made the room look larger but would help Namjoon if he ever needed to practice his dances. 

You sighed contentedly as what was once your home now became the both of yours, your hobbies and tastes intermingling in a perfect union. The den was now a studio, soundproofed and full of midi boards and amps - it seemed like a piece of Namjoon had a place in your home. The two of you had gone back and forth over where to live, whether to move into his house or buy a new place completely, but in the end you had decided your apartment would be best since it was close to both of your work places and because it housed the most memories you shared.

“Oh! Or we can buy a new place?” You looked up at Namjoon’s profile from where you laid next to him, you head in the crook of his arm, his fingers tracing circles on your skin, right above where your cast ended. You were both in bed, a few days after he asked you to move in together, eager to figure out where you would embark on your latest relationship milestone.

“What about here? I like it here. This is our spot.”

“Really you wanna move in here?”

“Yeah this is where we had our first official date. This is where we found out that Ken Burns documentaries make you fall asleep-” He grunted as you smacked his chest at his comment, laughing before continuing. “This is where I first found out how much I love your food. Heck, that living room was where I knew I was in love with you!”

“Oh? You haven’t told me that before.” The two of you turn on your sides to look at each other as you grinned at him in anticipation.

“Yeah it was like a few weeks after we became official. I came over and you were at the gym and when you came back we ordered like a massive pizza and you were so giddy while eating it, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m sure I had literal heart eyes.”

“You know you really like me and pizza together,” you joked as you played with the necklace he had given you, his hand coming to fiddle with the chain as well.

“What can I say? I like you covered in sauce.” He laughed as he held your chin and brought you in for a kiss, humming gently when you separate.

“Be honest though, you totally fell in love with me when I agreed to recreate that porn you like, didn’t you?”

“Ah fuck! You’re right, that’s like the number one reason we should move in here. This is where we found out calling me daddy makes you gag.”

“Yes I’m sure it was just calling you that and not your stupidly big dick.” You both broke into fits of laughter holding on to each other, falling back into the comforting silence, before Namjoon broke it looking at you with a smirk.

“So how about we break out that riding crop again? Hmm? Get you in some of that sexy lingerie?” He moved his arm lower from where it sat on your waist to your hips, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pajamas.

“But baby you said you loved my batman underwear,” you whined jokingly, giggling with your arm around his neck as you looked at him coyly.

“Honestly? I love you in anything.” He said earnestly as he captured your lips in a searing kiss, moving his body to lay on top of yours carefully avoiding your injured arm. “Or nothing…”

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The first week of living together was odd. The two of you had spent the month after deciding to move in together planning so much, even buying new furniture, but now that you were living together it was weird. It wasn’t a bad weird, in fact it was a very, very good weird. You and Namjoon had never lived with a partner before and much like when you first got together, it felt easy. Maybe it was practice from when Namjoon was over all the time, but it just felt so effortless being with each other.

You would be lying if you said your mother’s words hadn’t opened up an insecurity within you. You were messy, sure it was an organized mess, but you were messy. You tend to forget where you put things, and when you’re stressed even the smallest of inconveniences make you snap. However, somehow Namjoon just slotted himself into your life so seamlessly, you were finding it hard to believe how lucky you were. 

On Monday, you came home and as usual threw whatever jacket you were wearing on the floor, he followed, silently picking it up and hanging it. Namjoon was organized and that made you remember where you left your keys on Tuesday, because now they were always in the cute little crab shaped plate near the foyer. On Wednesday you were infuriated with work and when you went to pee when you reached home, the toilet seat was up causing you to nearly topple in. But unlike usual when you would’ve torn whoever did that to pieces, you broke into a laugh, dialing Namjoon at practice and telling him you missed him. On Thursday, you had your doctor’s appointment to finally get the cast off, and when you returned home to excitedly show off your new arm, Namjoon frowned at the large scar before kissing it repeatedly and spending the night worshipping you. On Friday, the two of you saw the smog warning and donned some masks going to Yeouido Hangang Park, melding in with the mask-wearing strangers enjoying convenience store kimbap and beers as you read your book aloud to him, lounging on the sloping greens. That was also when he learned you didn’t know how to ride a bike, making it his responsibility to teach you.

“I still can’t believe you don’t know how to ride a bike!” Namjoon laughed as he held onto the handlebars. You struggled to keep the balance, your feet resting lightly on the pedals of the rented bike as he slowly pushed you. 

“I skateboarded instead! You tell me that once you land an ollie!” you huffed, now pushing on the pedals, albeit gently. Namjoon found your hesitation adorable. He loved discovering these different sides of you. The fact that his always confident girlfriend seemed scared of something as simple as a bike when she was apparently doing tricks on a skateboard, made his heart swell. It was like you kept all your embarrassing secrets for him, you told him things that no one knew about you, and he couldn’t wait to discover more. 

For Namjoon, moving in had been as easy as breathing, even though it had barely been a week. On Monday, he took a homemade lunch to work for the first time in a year. When he opened the box, the smell of your stew lingered in his studio and every time he returned from a meeting that day, the scent made him smile. On Tuesday, you came by his building to pick him up, waving excitedly as he wrapped up a livestream and tried not to giggle like a fool in love, which he very much was. Wednesday, he was having a tough time getting the new dance routine down, but then you called him out of the blue and it made his heart flutter, reenergizing him to finally nail the steps. When your cast came off on Thursday, he was again filled with guilt about his part in your attack, but your assurances helped him ease his mind. However, not as much as you screaming his name when he made you cum for the third time on his tongue. Namjoon had never felt so connected to someone before. Usually he would be scared to share so much of his life with another person, but with you he couldn’t wait. He felt extremely lucky just to be in your presence, soaking in the determined look on your face as he taught you how to ride a bike.

“Okay shit. Nevermind that’s really hot. Let’s go skateboarding next time,” he smiled at you mischievously, knowing that he was going to let go of the bike any second.

“I haven’t done that in ten - Oh my god! Don’t let go! Why are you letting go?” You looked behind you to see Namjoon put a thumb in the air in encouragement.

“You’re a big girl, you can do it. I believe in you!”

“I hate you! I’m gonna fall! How do I stop?!” You could feel the wind blowing through your hair as you steadily picked up speed, and you were terrified. How did you let your tree of a boyfriend talk you into this? There was a reason you had legs, why did you need these stupid wheels?!

“Just push the brakes and put your leg out.”

“Joon! Namjoon! I’m gonna fall!” You watched your life flash before your eyes as you cursed, falling on to the grass, your bike between your legs. Namjoon jogged up the few meters to stand above you, almost doubling over in laughter, causing you to cross your arms where you laid pouting at him. “Stop laughing at me!”

“Sorry! I just - you were going so slow! You literally fell in slow motion!” He continued laughing, even having the audacity to wipe a tear off his eye as you glared at him, before moving the bike and helping you up. “Come on up. There we go!” He beamed at you making it much harder to be mad at him when his eyes squinted in that adorable way they do when he’s extra pleased.

“If I break my arm again it’s your fault.” You leaned into him as he put an arm around you, the other walking the bike back to its station. 

“Sorry, sorry! Okay I think that was enough practice. Let’s go home.” He pulled you closer, the bike now firmly locked and no longer charging him through the app. With your arms around his waist, you kind of felt bad giving up on learning so easily. He had seemed so excited when he suggested biking around the river.

“Sorry I can’t bike with you. I wanna share your hobbies!” You pouted, making Namjoon swoon.

“Baby we literally share like seven million hobbies. It’s okay if you don’t like biking. I hate all the Shark Tank episodes you make me sit through.” He laughed as you looked up at him, even with the mask covering half his face you could tell how his dimples would be poking through his cheeks at your comment.

“You said you liked them!”

“It was a month into dating you. I lied.” You rolled your eyes at his nonchalance as he smiled smugly. You knew he hated that show, he would always be getting up to go to the bathroom or get snacks during the pivotal moments. Well at least he was committed enough to not be on his phone when you watched together. Now that you think about it, he must really love you to sit through the marathon you had of it last month.

“So what else do you hate?”

“Arthur C Clarke. I don’t get why you love 2001 so much. It’s so pseudo philosophical and the sequels suck.”

“But the monolith Joon! The spark of curiosity and ambition! And like the combined consciousness! Come on!”

“Eh. Pretentious. Douglas Adams did it better.” He shrugged.

“I can’t believe you! Those are like two different concepts!” You laughed as he dissed one of your favourite books, enjoying his warmth against you as the two of you waited for the car to pick you up in the parking lot.

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

Saturday would mark the first weekend of you both living together, and so it was time to celebrate. The two of you had taken the day off in preparation for the first party you would host together, in the apartment you lived together. Just the thought made you giddy. You walked around the grocery store, stocking up on snacks and alcohol as Hayoon, Namjoon’s favourite security personnel, helped you carry the basket that kept getting heavier. You still found it weird walking around with the 195cm, extremely buff older man, but with the attack still fresh in your head, it was comforting having the looming presence. You had noticed that people didn’t even look twice at you, when in the past your foreigner status would have had at least a few staring at you.

Thanking Hayoon for carrying your supplies and bidding him a goodbye, you walked into your living room to find your boyfriend dancing to music playing from his earphones. Somehow in the midst of cleaning and moving furniture to make room for the twenty something people you both had invited, he had started working. You couldn’t blame him when you yourself had taken the time in the car to answer a few emails. It gave you the perfect opportunity to share your present with him.

“I’ve got a surprise for you!” You walked over to block his view of himself in the mirror as he rolled his body to some unknown tune. It was quite funny watching his concentrated scowl turn into confusion, barely hearing you.

“Hmm?”

“Stop dancing! I’ve got a surprise!”

“Can’t stop babe I have to get this down before Monday.” Namjoon looked over your head into the mirror as he continued practicing his choreography, making you roll his eyes.

“Hmm maybe Kook would wanna go instead,” you said nonchalantly as you turned around and started to slowly back away, before Namjoon’s arm came around your waist, stopping you.

“Ah baby don’t do that. See, airpod out, I’m listening!” You grinned as Namjoon pulled his earphone out, stopping the music but continuing to dance.

“You know you look like one of the sims just dancing there without music,” you joked, giggling.

“Babbbbbe! Where are we going?” he whined.

“So you know how your favourite rapper is Nas?”

“Yes I’m aware.”

“I got backstage passes!”

“What? For me?” Namjoon stilled, a dopey grin on his face as you walked closer to him to show him the tickets on your phone. It wasn’t a huge present but when one of your clients had asked if you wanted to attend, you couldn’t refuse the tickets. It helped that your client owned the stadium the performance was at and had accommodated your special requests for privacy.

“And you get to watch from this barricade so you don’t have to worry about paparazzi or fans and you can just enjoy the show!” Namjoon’s heart swelled as he heard your words. You never failed to surprise him with how much you went out of your way to make him comfortable. Lately, you’d been making him want to declare your relationship to the world. It was a dumb fantasy and the two of you had talked (argued) about going public, but between the two of you it seemed that you were more against it.

“You’re coming with me right?” He put his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I don’t know, I know I just said you’ll have privacy but what if someone sees us together? Maybe you can take Yoongi.” You look up at him with a frown, your hands on his chest, as you assessed the different ways the concert could affect your privacy. He hated how you had to overthink such a simple outing, mirroring your frown as he reached to relax the crease between your brows before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Shut up. I’m only taking you. The whole world can watch!” He grinned making you roll your eyes. 

“You scare me with how easily you just said that.” You swatted at his chest. It really did scare you with how easily he’d been saying that lately. He wasn’t really an impulsive person, he usually thought everything through to the utmost detail and so his recent exclamations were worrying you. It’s not that you wouldn’t like to post one of the thousands of couple photos on your social media, it’s just you were worried about how toxic some netizens could be.

“Would it be so bad if everyone knew?” He pulled you closer, arms circling your waist as he pressed his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes with a little smile, wanting to play out his fantasy.

“Joon I’m not risking your career so we can go on a few dates.” You sighed, picking at his shirt at his chest where your hands laid.

“My fans will be happy to see me happy, baby.”

“Ugh let’s not argue about this right now. Do you like your surprise?” You put your arms around his neck as you peck his lips.

“Only if I get to enjoy it with you.”

“Yes yes I guess I’ll go see one of my favourite rappers with you.”

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing his lips to yours to kiss you gently. You returned it equally gently, getting lost in the warmth as he molded his lips to yours, tilting his head to get a better angle and squeezing your ass as he brought you even closer in his embrace. Before things could get heated, you pulled away, smiling as he followed your lips, eyes still closed. You pecked his lips a few times before moving away completely.

“Hey don’t let me distract you. Practice!” 

“You’re such a tease. Meanie.” He pouted as you walked away with a wave in his direction, smirking at his petulance. 

“Love you too Joonie!”

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

Namjoon was drunk. He promised himself at the beginning of the party that he would stay sober to ensure his first party with you went seamlessly, but then the Ilsan boys showed up. The Ilsan boys were his high school friends, dubbed so by you. To say you liked them would be a stretch, since he always got too drunk when they were around, but he couldn’t help it. They made him forget all about being an idol and let loose. They were some of the few people beside you and his family that had that effect. Sitting on the couch that was pulled up to the window, he felt the alcohol race through his veins, and he was in his feelings. Beside him, Harry talked to Sehun, one third of the Ilsan boys as they talked about some tv show. He was happy, so happy he was smiling to himself as he rocked his feet on the ground, a beer in hand. He was happy and as he watched you across the room, he was also a little annoyed.

You were talking to Kang, another one of the Ilsan boys, as Jungkook stood with his arms on top of your head for support and Hoseok laughed at some joke you made. Before the party the two of you had decided not to be the couple that only hung out with each other, and since this party was literally just your closest friends, it was not that hard to do. But right now all Namjoon wanted to do was be petty and shove Jungkook off of you, wrap his arms around you instead and tell you how horny your skinny jeans were making him. Alright, correction. Namjoon was drunk, happy, and horny. 

He bit his lip as he followed your curves with his eyes, watching the way your chest rose as you laughed, and the way your throat moved with each sip of your whiskey. Okay, that’s it. Screw the decision, he was walking over. Plus, he had stayed away for the past three hours, even had to watch you belt out his favourite My Chemical Romance song as you wiggled your butt, that had to count for something. He made his way to your little group, swaying a little as he shoved Jungkook a little too aggressively off you, making him protest over his spilled beer, before putting an arm possessively over your shoulder. He grinned as you leaned in, continuing your conversation.

“As I was saying there is no way Y/N is a sub. No fucking way!” Kang bellowed from where he stood. Namjoon’s brows furrowed at his comment. Why was he talking about his girlfriend this way? He felt an irrational surge of anger through him. He knew Kang was crass, his talks often devolving to his sex capades a few shots in, but did he really not respect Namjoon enough to be talking this shit in his own home about his girlfriend during their housewarming party?

Namjoon’s grip tightened around you protectively as Kang kept talking about your sex life. You only hummed, seemingly bored as you drank. Turns out you were playing a game, instigated by Kang of course, where you had to guess the other person’s kink, and if someone guesses correctly, you drink if not then the guesser drinks. Apparently you were in the spotlight for the moment.

Namjoon tilted his head, eyes narrowed at his childhood friend and raised an eyebrow. Kang, luckily for him, got the hint, shutting up with an apologetic glance at Namjoon. However, everyone else in the little group seemed to have missed this little interaction.

“I don’t know… I’ve seen hyung’s porn collection. He definitely has a daddy kink.” Jungkook scratched his chin as he slurred out the words, like he was trying to decipher a difficult math problem. 

“Dude Y/N would rather puke than call Namjoonie daddy.” Hoseok laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you with a knowing smirk. You laughed, a little too hard in your tipsy state, and Namjoon felt his blood run cold. You had definitely said those words to him, even pretended to jokingly gag when he brought it up the first, and only, time. He stood straighter at Hoseok’s comment. Had you told him about this? Why would you tell Hoseok of all people? You weren’t even close! 

His jaw ticked as the group laughed, oblivious to the sudden hurt he felt. He felt exposed, naked and vulnerable, all because of you. He didn’t know if his feelings were elevated with the alcohol in his body, but he suddenly felt like he was losing all trust in you. You didn’t even seem phased, not noticing that his arm was no longer around you as you giggled at their antics.

“Okay. Time to reveal the winner!” You started, your arms wide and voice low as Jungkook used Hoseok’s chest as a makeshift drum, tapping at it lightly in a drumroll.

“Nope.” Namjoon couldn’t help but cut you off. There was no way you were sharing intimate details of your sex life with these idiots. He didn’t know how things worked in Canada, but here in his house he sure as hell was not hearing his friends talk about your kinks. He grabbed your wrist, taking the glass from your hand and placing it on the table before dragging you into the guest bathroom by the kitchen.

“Aww Joonie! Now I have to do three shots!” You pouted at him, oblivious to the storm brewing in his head.

“No.”

It was all he said before he crashed his lips to yours, taking your surprised yelp as an opportunity to roughly press his tongue to yours. He didn’t know what overcame him, he initially wanted to talk to you but something about the utter lack of remorse on your face snapped something in him. Oh those guys didn’t think you were a sub? He was going to prove them all wrong and make you beg for him while no one outside had a clue. It was his biggest turn on after all, to see you confidently striding through every room demanding respect and attention, only to turn into an obedient little girl for him.

He had been horny all night, rocking a semi every time he looked at you, and your little moans as you wrapped your arms around him now only made him harder. He kissed you with more force, removing your hands from around him and pinning them to the door behind you as his lips ventured down your neck to where your blouse started.

He let go of your hands, pleased to see them remain immobile against the door, and reached for your jeans, the same jeans that had been taunting him all evening. Kissing down your body, he pulled the jeans off your legs, turning you around roughly once you stepped out of them. With your ass in front of his face, he couldn’t help himself, biting at the flesh, smirking at your surprised yelp.

He stood up behind you, bending you over the sink. Pulling your shirt up and gripping your jaw, he placed the hem in your mouth. He kissed your neck, keeping his eyes on yours through the mirror as his hands pulled the cups of your bra down to grope you firmly. You didn’t know what had gotten into him suddenly, but you were not complaining, your shirt getting wet as did your panties. Wordlessly, he continued, his hands roaming your body to reach your heat where he didn’t hesitate to slide your panties to the side and thrust two fingers in, making you moan loudly at the sudden stretch. 

At your moan, his lustful eyes met yours as he increased his speed, the sound of your squelching pussy filling the air. Namjoon couldn’t help himself anymore, he needed to be inside you, teach you a lesson for being so oblivious to him. Unbuttoning his jeans, he released his dick, already dripping with precum at how turned on he was at the prospect of one of your friends knowing what was happening behind doors. Without a second thought, he lined himself up at your entrance to plunge himself right to the hilt. 

You moaned at the sudden aggressive move, your skin tingling with excitement to see your boyfriend this needy for you. Namjoon didn’t usually get this aggressive right off the bat, and his rare sexual desire made you heat up, mewling at the stretch. You braced yourself against the counter as you watched Namjoon’s face contorted in pleasure, his jaw tight as he rammed himself into you again and again, leaving your breathless and with your legs shaking.

“Fuck… I can’t believe we’re fucking in the bathroom… at our own party!” you moaned at a particularly hard thrust.

“That’s what you get for being such a fucking tease all night.” Namjoon leaned closer to speak in your ear, his chest molded to your back as one of his hands pulled your nipple while the other turned your head towards him, leaving sloppy wet kisses on your neck. You need more, needed to kiss him, needed his fingers on your clit, anything.

“Joonie…” you mewled, looking at him pleadingly.

“Ah don’t try to get all soft on me now baby.” He smacked your ass, aiming right where his bite mark was visible, making you preen. “Did you think you were funny telling Hobi how you gagged on my cock when I called myself daddy, hmm?” His hips moved hard, pushing you further into the sink, your walls clenching around him and you were sure your hips were going to bruise from where they slammed against the counter. Your skin was pebbling with goosebumps and you felt like you could feel every vein on his cock as he continued to move in you. With his hand on your jaw, he moved your face towards the mirror, enjoying the way your mouth was held open and eyes wide with want.

“Answer me baby. Did you like embarrassing me in front of our friends?” Namjoon knew he really shouldn’t bring his issues into the bedroom, especially when you allowed and trusted him with how you gave up control, but the concoction of hurt, anger and beer in his veins overrode his rationality. 

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you at his words, finally realizing what had gotten him so riled up. Making eye contact in the mirror, you couldn’t tell if this was all part of a scene he’d come up with or if he was serious. Before you could say anything, he spanked you again, his thrusts slowing, but somehow getting harder. Although you were concerned, you couldn’t deny how you could feel your orgasm rising, your walls tightening around him.

“Do you like seeing me get hurt in front of my friends?” He gritted out, his gaze darkened.

“H-hurt?” you stuttered, alarmed.

“Yeah baby, hurt. You think I like you sharing our secrets?” He was back at your neck, nipping the flesh and soothing it with his tongue. “You think I liked you and Hobi laughing at me, pretty girl?” he sneered, but you could see past it. Behind the lust in his eyes, he was actually hurt, his eyes glistening, and although you were enjoying this sudden, surprise sex, your needs could wait.

“Joon… fuck… yellow. Yellow.” You grunted, despite your body begging you to let him continue so you could cum. Suddenly Namjoon froze, pulling out. His eyes softened immediately with concern as he ran his hands up and down your arms to comfort you.

“Shitshitshit sorry! Was that too much? Too rough? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He spoke fast, trying to gauge your expression in the mirror.

“Are you okay? Are you actually mad about Hobi?” You turned around, cupping his face as you looked up at him. He sighed, biting his lip a couple of times and contemplating if he should talk about it now.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I just - it kinda fucked me up.” He averted your gaze, opting to look at the wall next to the two of you, and you felt your heart ache at his words. “Like I was pretty vulnerable when I shared that kink with you and I get it - it’s cliched and basic and you weren’t into it but I feel like you guys were laughing at me. I don’t like getting laughed at by my girlfriend behind my back with one of my best friends.” He looked at you towards the end of his statement, the fiery look back in his eyes. You knew he was mad, but truly he had no reason to be. In fact, thinking more about it made you sad that he would think that you would purposely kink shame him or laugh at him for any reason.

“I’m so sorry Joonie. It’s not even like that. I’m so sorry baby. Do you wanna talk about -” But before you could finish your sentence, he spun you around again.

“No.” He spoke firmly, lining himself once again, fully back into his dominant persona. “Much. Rather. Fuck. My. Frustrations. Out. Colour?” He punctuated each word with a snap of his hips, making you mewl, your earlier lost orgasm revving back up slowly.

“Green. Fuck Joon!” He bent you over further at your words, holding tightly to your hips as he fucked you.

“Tell me when you’re close, baby. You don’t get to cum tonight.” He spoke, his voice strained from his harsh movements. Oh, he must be really mad. Namjoon took pride in making you cum, often overstimulating you, but this was new. He’d never flat out denied you an orgasm before, and the thought made you want to cum even more.

“Joonie. I’m sorry. Please... fuck! You feel so good.” You mewled, looking at him with puppy eyes. You didn’t know how long you could hold your orgasm if he continued, the coil in your stomach tightening at his every move.

“No can do pretty girl you gotta learn your lesson.” He smirked, spanking your ass for good measure, the slap ricocheting through the walls of the small bathroom. You really hoped nobody needed to pee, glad that the music was pretty loud, you could almost sing along to the SHINEE track in the background.

“Please daddy?” You knew he was mad at you for this, but in your lust-addled, desperate mind you just wanted to do anything to please him.

“Fuck off! Don’t make me ban you from cumming all week.” He gritted out, almost panting with how fast he was going, chasing his own release as he spanked your ass twice. 

“God. Oh my god, Joon!” You felt him get sloppy, almost on the brink of your orgasm. Namjoon could feel you tighten impossibly hard, and with one last thrust he pulled out, stroking himself before cumming on your ass with a loud groan. You whined, your head on your arms as you felt your orgasm ebb away, your clit throbbing in need.

Namjoon leaned next to you, catching his breath, as he looked at your wrecked state, legs shaking, hair a mess, your tits hanging out of your bra.

“Did you cum?” he asked, stroking your hair as you looked up at him.

“No…” He kissed you at that, gently and quickly.

“Good girl. Now let’s clean you up, we have a party to host.” He buckled his pants, as he handed you some toilet paper, fixing your shirt, and once you cleaned up, helping you put your pants back on. He was still hurt, but weirdly sated. He knew it would take time for him to get over this, but he still felt lucky knowing that you’d understand as he watched you fix your makeup in the mirror.

“Joon, are you still mad?” You spoke after a few minutes, voice uncharacteristically meek, making Namjoon wish he waited till after the party was over, so he could tend to you properly after being so rough.

“A little. It’s just kind of stings right now.” He spoke after a few beats of contemplation leaning against the sink. When in other relationships, he got used to just saying he was fine, with you he felt that he could be honest even if it hurt, and although he still felt somewhat betrayed, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’m sorry, truly. I swear it’s not what you think. We weren’t laughing at you, promise! I love you.” You looked at him with such sorrow that he almost felt stupid for having such feelings, wanting to pacify you, but he knew you’d hate it if he did so.

“Ah don’t make that face.” He pouted at you slightly, cupping your face in his hands.

“What face?” You ask, eyes wide, cheeks a little squished by his hands and he felt his heartbeat accelerate.

“That face! Makes me want to kiss you.” He whispered, before capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones.

“Joonie… baby, talk to me.” You pleaded, you hands on his, but he just leaned down to peck your forehead instead.

“Shh, yellow on this convo for now. Let’s just go back to the party. I love you too, pretty girl.” He smoothed your hair once again, before moving to the door. He paused at your lack of movement, turning around to see you frowning as you looked at him. He knew you wanted to talk it out, it was in your nature to solve problems immediately, but Namjoon needed time. If he talked about it now, he would probably get angry, or worse start crying. He needed to think things through. 

“Even when you’re mad?” you said quietly.

“Even when I’m mad. Now let’s go before anyone figures we’re missing.” He took your hand and walked you out, the party none the wiser of your little indiscretion. However, if anyone was paying attention, they would have noticed how off the mood was between the two of you, your smiles not reaching your eyes, and your cups always empty.

---------- 

You stared at the screen, the cursor blinking as you tried to put your thoughts together. This expansion into Japan was going to be the death of you. You had been working on the strategy for months now but nothing appealed to the board who never lost the opportunity to remind you of your age or lack thereof. With your combined shares Harry and you could technically override any of their decisions, but antagonizing the board further would only lead to more problems in the future so you just grinned and bore it. 

You had spent all day at the office trying to figure out the new strategy to beat out the competing company that already existed in Tokyo to get sufficient market share to make the expansion viable. Siwon had been kind enough to be your scribe while you word vomited at him but as you looked at the page now it made little sense. You were kind of embarrassed that he had to type out this bullshit.

Frustrated at your lack of progress, you looked at the clock, and reading the 11:34 pm displayed there with a grimace as you stood up to walk to the kitchenette on your floor. Starting a pot of coffee you talked to yourself as you fidgeted with the cups, stacking them this way and that. You kind of wished Harry would’ve stayed late tonight to talk through the strategy with you but apparently Jen had been pretty annoyed with all his late nights so you had no choice but to do it alone. You didn’t mind it as much usually, you enjoyed the silence of the empty building, enjoyed filling it with your favourite songs as you worked through your thoughts.

Tonight however you were pretty annoyed to be working late. After the party, Namjoon had spent Sunday sulking about, still refusing to talk out what you thought was a minor issue of miscommunication. If you were being honest, part of your frustrations tonight might be due to the fact that a part of your brain kept pestering you with the same thoughts. Mom was right, you moved in and look, already not talking to each other. If you can’t resolve this tiny fight, how will you have a future? He’s probably sick of you already.

Trying to practice your coping mechanisms, you let the thoughts pass through your head. They were just negative thoughts, they did not define you as a person, do not react to them. You took a deep breath, focusing instead on the task ahead.

As you walked to your desk with your third cup of coffee of the evening and thought about your business plans, you started resenting your board more and more. It was one thing to want a flawless strategy but they failed to understand that there was literally no strategy in the world that would be as risk averse as they wanted. They thought you too impulsive, too bull-headed to do something that was low risk. They had the audacity to think that you were building all the riskiest strategies on purpose when in reality to get the outcome you wanted there had to be an equal amount of risk to go with it. Sighing, you started typing your thoughts, bulleted, on the doc as your phone rang.

“Namjoon?” you asked as soon as you picked up the phone, a bit surprised that this is how he was choosing to break his pseudo silent treatment.

“Just called so you’re not startled.” You heard Namjoon twice, once in your speaker and once from right in front of you. Regardless of his efforts, you jumped in your seat to see him standing in front of you. Holding your hand on your heart, you looked up at your boyfriend standing over your desk in a matching pair of grey sweats and sweater, a black mask under his chin as he looked at you with amusement at your reaction. It never failed to endear him how you were easily startled at the smallest things. 

“Did you eat yet?” He asked as he leaned over the desk, his lips puckered. Sighing a yes, you kissed him, feeling your stress reduce at the touch, relieved that he seemed to be more open to communicating now.

“What brings you here?” You asked, reclining back in your seat as Namjoon pulled up a chair next to you.

“I just got done. Thought I’d pick you up.”

“How did you even know I was still here?”

“Boyfriend senses.” He winked, his arm resting on the back of his chair. You raised an eyebrow, skeptical, and really wishing he didn’t go all the way home to come back. “Fine. Siwon texted me. You know it’s bad form to worry your assistant so much he has to call your boyfriend for back up.”

“I’m sorry he texted you.” You leaned forward in your chair with a sheepish smile. Inside however, you were glad Siwon had given Namjoon a push to talk to you. Knowing Siwon you were sure it wasn’t a random concern but probably born out of your talk with him this morning.

He made a noise stating his displeasure at your apology and shaking his head, before reaching out to hold your hand where it lay on your lap. “So when’s this due?”

“Can we talk about Saturday night?” You answered his question with your own, dreading a mood swing, but impatient to explain your side and ease his worries. You really wanted things to go back to normal. Even though it had only been one day, you missed him. He had barely cuddled you in his sleep the last two nights, and you missed the intimacy, and as needy as it sounded in your head, you just wanted him to hold you.

He sighed deeply, leaving your hand to run his hands over his face. With his elbows on his knees, he hunched down, covering his face. He really should let you explain, but he was tired from practice and he didn’t know if he had the mental capacity to deal with an argument. “It’s okay. I’ll get over it.” 

“Please. Let me explain.” You stood from your chair squatting in front of him and pulling his hands away to make him look at you. With another sigh of resignation, Namjoon nodded for you to continue.

“Hoseok doesn’t know anything. He said that as a joke randomly.” You spoke carefully, watching Namjoon’s eyes widen as he frowned. “Honestly he’s been your friend for so long I just assumed you told him that’s why he was looking at me like that. You know I didn’t agree or disagree. I just laughed because of the memory.”

Namjoon felt like an idiot. It was such a simple explanation. He was kicking himself for not thinking about this earlier, for spending a whole day avoiding you. As he looked at the earnesty in your eyes, he wanted to go back in time and smack himself on the head for making you feel guilty over this non-issue.

“I’m a fucking asshole,” he groaned, covering his face as he rolled his chair away from you in shame. You stood, walking over to him before pulling his hands away yet again, sitting in his lap sideways. His hands instinctively went around your waist, making sure you didn’t slip off. 

“No I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed,” you whispered, frowning as you put your arms around his neck, playing with the hair on his nape.

“I’m such an idiot,” he sighed, rubbing his hand on your thigh, his touch sending a comforting warmth through you. “Also, I’m sorry for earlier.”

“For what?”

“Not letting you cum.” He looked so devastated, his lips pulled down by his guilt as he stared at you, that all you could do was giggle. It was silly that he thought some of the best sex you’d had was bad just because you didn’t cum.

“It’s fine you were in your dom persona.” You smoothed his hair as you kissed his cheek, making him shyly turn away from you, before he looked at you with a determination in his eyes.

“No it’s not fine. In all the research I’ve done one thing they always warned against was domming angry or like using it to resolve issues or punish your partner in a way they didn’t know what started the punishment, and I don’t know what came over me. I was mad and it was unfair of me to use our kinks against you.” He ranted, his frown getting deeper as his grip around you got tighter. With all his goofy antics around you usually, you forgot how serious Namjoon could get, and although the two of you had promised each other to be honest, it was still jarring to hear his rant. It meant he had been thinking about his actions and it bothered you that he was feeling guilty. When he stopped to take a breath, you brought his lips to yours, kissing him with all the affection you could muster. It wasn’t hard - showing him you loved him. In fact, it was the easiest thing to do, as you let your lips assure him and ease the storm in his head.

“I’m perfectly okay Joonie. It was hot.” You chuckled as you broke away and met his gaze filled with adoration. You felt lucky to have him in your life, and although this fight didn’t seem to have lasted that long, you missed him. Kissing him at midnight in your office, you felt content, your stress from the day melting away at his touch.

“Still. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you?” He said as he kissed you again. “Let’s go home, baby.” 

You stood and as you packed your stuff, he clung on to you, nuzzling your neck, equally missing your touch. Although you were headed home, you felt it in his arms already.

-

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[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week Day 3 - Missed Opportunities

Summary: Nothing like dark biotic lunch to let you reflect on how shitty your love life is. Alistair’s got plenty to reflect on as he broods away with his jar of sour sugar - correction, homemade pixie sticks. Unfortunately for him, he’s about to add another one to his lack-of-body count. Man just can’t catch a break...

(Setting: Pre ME1)

---

02:00 Space time. It was the perfect time for stuffing your face with much needed carbs to keep the biotic system functioning.

“Don’t even think of turning that light on, my eyes are killing me.”

Alistair’s hand moved away from the switch and back to his favorite form of shoving carbs into his system – a mix of sugar, citric acid, and green food coloring that made up his version of pixie sticks. It was all the flavor, without having to deal with the stupid paper wrapper that got everywhere. Next to him, his sister was punching the buttons on the microwave. Inside, the family sized bag of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets was waiting to get spun around and nuked to edible temperatures.

“I wasn’t going to; my head hurts too.” He massaged the back of his neck, fingers brushing against his still-warm amp. He had used it a bit too much the day before, but at least it had cooled some. Hours earlier, it had been burning hot. Maybe the headache was the result of that, or maybe it was the ship’s pressurization. Either way, no lights were fine by him.

Besides, lights might have made someone else on the Normandy realize they were there. The last thing he needed was to talk to someone other than Bo right then.

“Good. If I have to deal with Jenkins asking me to test my biotics on him again, I’m going to scream. He should just go bother Alenko for that…” Bo trailed off, one red eye meeting him across the kitchen. “Unless you’re interested in giving it a shot.”

The thought caused him to snort as he dug in the drawer for a suitable spoon. Most people liked tablespoons, but they usually had bigger mouths than him. It would take a little longer, but a teaspoon fit his smaller hands perfectly. Maybe someone in the crew would joke about that, but they were smart enough not to do it to his face. What they did behind his back, he didn’t care. He didn’t have to hear it, and that was good enough for him.

“Already tried that, actually. He doesn’t like how I do it.” A spoonful of sugar soon found its way into his mouth and the sour taste did wonders for his headache. “You should’ve heard him complain when I didn’t toss him full force. I swear, Jenkins has a death wish or something.”

Bo snorted as she watched her nuggets go for a ride in the radiation machine. “He’d get it with me, there are no safety stops on the murder machine. Maybe it’s for the best if he gets his ride from Alenko. After he breaks something, he can go to you or Chakwas to get it fixed. Maybe you should just standby, it’ll give you plenty of chances to talk to him.”

The thought made Alistair cringe as he looked down at his jar of sugar. “Yeah… about that… maybe it’s for the best if I don’t go around Kaidan for a while.”

Memories from the prior week still played in his mind whenever he got the chance to close his eyes – it was like the universe wanted to remind him how stupid it had been. He could still see the look on his fellow biotic’s face and see the change in his eyes. It had just been a simple request – to hang out on their next shore leave, maybe grab dinner.

The dinner idea had made the man ask if he was asking him out. Naturally, Alistair was shit at lying, so he’d had to come out with the truth. Yes, it had been a soft way of asking Kaidan out on a date. And… well, it hadn’t ended well. Kaidan had been nice about it, and he appreciated that, but in the end, it was a politely given no. The offer was still up to hang out as friends, but… honestly, he wasn’t sure if he could do it right then. Just looking at the man made him embarrassed now, even if he respected that no.

He should’ve been used to being turned down, but it still hurt a little. He’d probably be over it in a few weeks, maybe less if they got busy with the next location they were heading towards. Alistair just had to hang in until then.

“Oh, so I don’t have to be nice to him anymore. Great. He’s been annoying the hell out of me.” The microwave dinged and the sound of plastic tearing signified the beginning of the carnage of all breaded dinosaur kind. “Fuck him.”

Alistair chuckled softly as he went for another mouthful of sugar. “He has a right to say no, Bo.”

“And I have the right to judge his shitty taste.” A tyrannosaurus lost its head to Bo’s incisors as she took her bag to the table. At least she was sitting down this time. Since she was, he joined her with his jar of what was basically sour sugar, spoon still in hand.

Well, he couldn’t talk her out of that. He knew better. Hopefully, it would be a quick couple of weeks.

For a few moments, they ate in silence. With every spoonful of sugar, Alistair felt his headache ache a little less. It was probably just a placebo effect to bootleg pixie sticks, but he was going to take anything he could get right then. Another spoonful it was – at least his CGM would be happy for once.

Thanks to that, he could hear the sounds of the Normandy around him. They were still settling into the new ship, so he was getting used to all the noises it made. Right now, they were shooting through FTL, so the engines hummed along as they kept everything steady. It was a low rhythm he found himself sinking into as he took another spoon of his snack. He might not have been on the ship for long, but he got the feeling he’d like it.

How could he not? The Normandy was kind of sexy…

“I can hear you sexualizing the ship from here, Al.”

Bo snickered as he turned away, cheeks growing warm in the dark. Instead of saying anything, he just took another mouthful of sugar. That was a point lost to him in the endless game they played. He was behind, and probably always would be. She was just too good at getting to him. Really, she was the best example of a little sister anyone could think of. It was honestly scary sometimes.

You think being a former younger sister he’d have the same power, but apparently not. Fuck that.

“You and your ship fetish. Better get in line, I think Joker’s in first place.” The next victim was a triceratops, missing its tail due to the company’s processing blades. Oh well, it was missing other things soon enough. “Well, either him or that weird turian who’s been skulking around. What’s his name again? He’s been all over the lower decks lately, I think it’s pissing engineering off.”

Nilhus. Nilhus Kryik.

Just thinking about him made Alistair’s face feel hot. He sought comfort in his sugar, trying not to think too hard about the man. They hadn’t really talked much, but from what he saw… well, would it be too much to say he liked what he was seeing?

Probably… shit. He was no good at this crush thing.

“I think he’s just… checking things out. I don’t know, it’s weird having a Spectre onboard. I’m not even sure where he’s sleeping…” He licked his spoon thoughtfully. “I mean, the Normandy was also designed by turians, so there has to be a spot somewhere comfortable for them. I would need to check the specs…”

Bo was giving him that look again as she dug for more dinosaurs. “Trying to find a good makeout spot, huh? You’re not subtle, Al.”

No… no he wasn’t. And that’s what got him in trouble.

What also got him in trouble was sitting in the dark apparently. All too suddenly, the lights flicked on, temporarily blinding him as pain rushed to the front of his head. Alistair hissed and dropped his spoon, hearing it clatter to the floor below. Next to him, he could hear Bo doing the same thing, only she didn’t drop her nuggets. Only a direct enemy attack could cause that to happen.

“Damn it, turn the fucking light off!”

“I didn’t know anyone was in here.” The light flicked off, returning them to darkness. “I thought humans ate with the lights on.”

The smooth, translated voice made Alistair sit up a little straighter. A dull panic wormed its way into his stomach as he managed to open his eyes and look over his shoulder. There was a turian standing in the entrance to the kitchen, talons still on the light switch.

Wasn’t it just his luck that Nihlus was a night person?

“Dark biotic lunch runs by different rules.” Bo’s tone was just asking for a fight as she reached down to grab his spoon. “Doubt there’s anything in here you can eat anyway.”

Nilhus moved towards the fridge, the very picture of a man on a mission. “I stored some energy rations in here when I arrived on ship.”

He met Alistair’s gaze, then those eyes moved towards the jar on the table. “Is… that a jar of sugar?”

Well… if you wanted to get technical…

Alistair got up from the table in order to wash his spoon, avoiding Nihlus’ gaze. “It’s my recipe for pixie sticks… there’s not enough in the little tubes for me and it saves on packaging.”

“Pixie… sticks.”

Yep, that was a tone that told him to forget any sort of crush he’d had on the man – he was officially in the fucking weird category for life. All he could hope for was that it didn’t affect their working relationship, whatever the turian was doing on their ship.

What was he doing there anyway? Nobody was exactly clear about that…

“I’d say don’t knock it until you try it, but I don’t think there’s a dextro safe version.” Clean spoon in hand, Alistair returned to the table. “Er… enjoy your energy rations? Don’t exactly think that’s possible though…”

His voice trailed off as Nihlus left with his snack without another word. As soon as he was gone, his forehead found the table with a light thump. That was not going to do wonders for his headache to say the least, but he didn’t care then.

Strike three, you’re out.

“Don’t sweat it, you’re too good for him. What kind of asshole looks down his… shit, he doesn’t have a nose does he…” Bo was lost in thought for a moment as she munched on her nuggets. “Anyway, fuck him.”

Well, he wasn’t going to be doing that…

“The correct term would probably be face plates, but it doesn’t sound as good.”

“Damn aliens and their lack of anatomy we can use for insults.” His sister nudged his jar closer. “Best way to get over a shitty crush is food, so you might as well eat up.”

That it was. Alistair sighed as he sat up, taking advantage of his clean spoon in order to get another mouthful. At this rate, he was just going to be single until he died. Maybe that was for the best – it helped keep him focused on missions.

But damn, did the universe have to keep teasing him with hot guys he had no chance with?

Oh well, at least he had his jar of homemade pixie stick formula for those long nights when he was up brooding over his lack of a love life. At least that would never let him down. So, another mouthful it was, there in the dark of the kitchen with his sister.

On the bright side, at least Eden Prime should be a nice place to go… it sounded decent enough. Maybe it would take his mind off things.

[salandition]

Dizzy

Leon/Male!Reader

Summary: When you stop making the room spin, an unsettling whistle leaves your lips and Leon slowly backs away from you as you keep stalking toward him- and all of a sudden he’s aware of the feeling you’ve been giving him the entire night. Something intoxicating that makes him feel like prey.

Warnings: Rated T. Consumption of alcohol, making out while inebriated, and sexual themes, but no smut. Just a lot of tension and dancing.

A/N:My first Leon fic! Hoo hoo! I wasn’t sure how I felt about making my first fic a male insert, and I juggled with the idea of making it gender neutral instead, but the narrative of a male reader fit better. Plus. I am... very gay for Leon, and I wanted to indulge. SO i hope you all don’t mind the assigned gender in this fic! 

--- --- --- 

Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe it was the atmosphere- the dancing, the bodies pressing against each other, the neon lighting flashing in the dark room, painting everyone's skin with its fantastical colors. Maybe it was the music that Leon could feel in his core as he was tossed around the crowd, from person to person, his hair sticking to his sweaty neck that glowed pink and blue. 

But something was happening. There was a certain energy in the air, buzzing around the entire bar, and it lit Leon aflame, stumbling and falling as he tried to keep up with it. Keep up with you. 

You felt untouchable. You looked ethereal- your body and your voice that swayed with the lyrics you sang on stage, guitar in your arms strumming chords that Leon felt vibrate through his spine. Your eyes that trailed him up and down- 

Everything about you was so intoxicating that it might be dangerous . 

Raihan was the one that suggested they go out tonight. ‘To loosen up,’ his friend had said. Leon didn’t think he needed to loosen up, he felt just fine, but spending a night out drinking and relaxing with friends didn’t sound like a bad idea. And Nessa had insisted that she ‘knew a place’. The perfect place, apparently. 

That’s what led Leon underground in Spikemuth, to a bar he had no idea even existed; and at first, it was fine. The group sat at their private little booth in the corner because Leon had a reputation of being seen and ruining the vibe with his fans, not that anyone would admit that out loud (besides maybe Raihan). But this place was special. It was dark in the bar, the only light provided was from the neon lamps placed on bar tables, the rings that people wore, and the poles and stands that were on the stage in the back. 

When Leon asked what the stage was for, Raihan said they liked to play music. It wasn’t much later after that when things started to turn.

The drinks the bar served were full of flavor. Citrusy and sweet, lulling you into a false sense of security that you weren’t really drinking that much alcohol. They seemed to glow as well, leaving your teeth a sticky color, which Leon had laughed at when he first saw it. 

It didn’t seem as funny when it was used against him. 

The champion had gone to the bar alone, ordering the next round of drinks for his table. He was feeling confident with the dark atmosphere and the fact that no one had noticed or pulled him aside yet. The confidence seemed to falter when the bartender asked him what he wanted, and he realized he didn’t know the names of their glowy-type sweet drinks, and it was too dark to read a menu. If a menu even existed.

That’s when someone had slipped behind him. He could feel someone’s chest lightly touching his back as they leaned over, placing a hand on the bar counter beside him. The champion bristled but didn’t say anything as he turned around, expecting it to be Raihan messing with him- 

Instead, he met your eyes, and that’s when the fire in his belly started. 

You didn’t meet his gaze. Your teeth were glowing, like his, and your lips were stained and smeared with purple as you listed several words he wasn’t familiar with to the bartender, and suddenly the man was working, his hands busy as he whipped up several drinks. 

That’s when you looked down at Leon, and he felt like his throat was suddenly drier than it should be. 

“Are you new?” You asked him quietly, only for Leon to hear, and Leon felt the need to suddenly shiver. 

“Ah- I suppose it’s obvious, isn’t it?” He laughs lightly, joking at his clear inexperience with the bar, and your teeth disappear when you smile at him. 

“Just a tad. I don’t mind lending you a hand, though. You should have a good time, this place can get overwhelming,” you lean a little closer, making Leon feel the heat radiating off your body, and it’s making him sweat, “if you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

Leon opens his mouth, but no words come out. Thankfully, he’s saved by the bartender, who places several different drinks on a tray and puts it on the counter. You smile again and push the tray toward him, and Leon looks at you in confusion before reaching back for his wallet. 

You’re already close enough that you easily stop him by placing a warm hand on his arm. “It’s on me. Bring the drinks to your friends.” You lead his hand to the tray, and you finally take a step away from Leon, giving him room to breathe. Leon  really shivers then by the sudden shift in temperature- he was suddenly much colder than before. “Have a good time, new boy,” you told him with a wink, and suddenly you disappeared as if you were never there at all. 

Like a figment of his imagination. 

Leon tried his best to shake it off. If you were real, you were certainly strange. The aura you carried and the way you talked to him- 

No one ever talked to him like that. 

But, again, he shakes it off. He brings the tray of drinks to his friends, all who holler and cheer when he returns. When Sonia asks what took him so long, he doesn’t know what to say, so he just hands her a drink instead. 

Raihan gives him a look, and Leon ignores it. 

Things start to fall back like they were before. Leon laughs, he jokes, he wrestles with Raihan. Ordinary things for a night out. And then, finally, people start to set up on the stage. Somehow it gets even darker in the club, but the light stands that surround the borders of the stage glow brighter. 

You step onto the platform, electric bass in your hand, and you go right for the microphone in the center. Leon once again feels his throat dry up when he sees you, for reasons that he really can’t find the right words to explain. 

Music starts to play, slow and sweet and alluring. Leon can’t help but ask because he can’t seem to tear his eyes away- “who is that?” 

“Him? That’s ___,” Nessa replies, resting her head in her hand as she looks at the stage. Her body naturally sways to the beat. “Him and his band play here a lot. Not sure about the name of the band because they never really announce themselves. They don’t really have a schedule either. They just come up and play, and no one says anything. They’re really good, though.” 

Hm. 

The slow beat only lasts for so long. The bass players behind you and the drummer all start to amp up, and eventually, your voice comes through the speakers of the club. “It’s about time we livened things up, don’t you think?” The patrons of the clubs all woot and cheer, making you laugh. “Mm, I thought so. Alright. I want to see some of you pulling your best moves, then.” 

You strum your guitar, and the mood changes. 

Here I am, tied and bound, 

Every night, feeling low,

Bad days come back whatever,

Raihan chuckles from beside Leon as his head starts to bob to the beat, and Sonia wiggles out of her seat. “We should get up and dance!” She suggests, and Nessa seems to agree as she leaves the booth. 

Leon doesn’t want to dance, not really, but he’s basically torn from his seat and pulled into the crowd by his friends as they all begin to move with the beat. The lights on the stage begin to glow and change color, reflecting on the sea of people in waves, bouncing and sinking into sweaty skin as Leon keeps his eyes on you. 

In the sun I bathe, in everyday light, 

You draft me down for a split second tomorrow, 

What am I supposed to do?

Somehow, your eyes find his. They stay on him, bore into him as you sing, even as Nessa twirls him around and laughs at how distracted he is. 

I know you would make me happy, 

Girl, I found my way out,

I found it at last now I’m sober

Oh-oo-oooo-

Your eyes practically shine as your head raises high, 

Let’s go!

The bass guitars thrum loudly and everyone enjoys the rift, and Leon’s forced to tear his eyes away as he dances and laughs when Sonia nearly trips, falling into Raihan instead, and then he twirls her across the floor until she falls into Nessa’s arms and the two start to dance in sync together. 

 Leon distracts himself with the music. He tries to ignore the feeling of your eyes burning into him as the music continues, gets louder, vibrates through him just like your voice had done to him earlier. He lets himself enjoy the sweat and exhaustion that comes from dancing so much, the ache in his feet- he thrives in it.

You had told him to enjoy himself, hadn’t you?

His cheeks hurt from how much he was laughing and smiling, and he starts to forget about your purple-stained lips, but then you did something unexpected. 

 The songs you and your band made, easy to dance to, come to a quiet, and Leon had noticed how you removed your guitar and set it to the side. Music comes again as you walk up to the mic with a whistle, but the intense beat had him stopping in his steps to stare up at you. Slowly your hands went around the mic as you sing, 

Woke up in the morning feelin’ cynical, typical,

Tryin’a rub the sleep out of my bloodshot eyes, 

Did I just die? Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, 

You smile as you take the mic away from the stand, but your eyes remain somewhat neutral and cold as you look out to the crowd. 

I’ve been feelin’ self-destructive, but I love it, 

I can’t help myself- your taste is so seductive, 

Leon’s surprised when you hop off the stage, the line of the microphone following behind you as you twirl the wire between your fingers, but no one else seems to think it’s strange. Maybe you do it often. Naturally, people move out of your way as you continue to sing, but Leon finds himself frozen in place. 

I’m feelin’...

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind, 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life, 

And you’re headed right for him. 

Somehow, he felt like he should have predicted it from how your eyes bore into him as he swayed and danced to your voice. But now? Again he realizes he doesn’t feel like dancing, but you reach for his arm just like before and pull him toward you anyway, making him twirl with you, everyone’s eyes on the two of you.

He doesn’t see them, and neither do you. The two of you are too busy twirling, twirling, twirling. 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind, you sing, 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life, 

When you stop making the room spin, an unsettling whistle leaves your lips and Leon slowly backs away from you as you keep stalking toward him- and all of a sudden he’s aware of the feeling you’ve been giving him the entire night.

Something intoxicating that makes him feel like prey. 

Frontin’ about my day, I’m feelin’ criminal, habitual,

I try to hide my pain behind a broken smile, so out of style, 

Leon keeps backing up until his heel meets a surface- the stage. He backs up as far as he can against it, and you reach for him again, your hand smoothly running against his stubbled jaw as you move in close. Close enough that he can feel that same heat from before, the kind that makes him want to shiver. 

Your hand holds his jaw, keeps him in place as your chest's touch and the microphone is the only thing keeping you away from his lips as you stare deep into his golden eyes. 

I’ve been feelin’ self destructive, but I love it, 

I can’t help myself, your taste is so seductive,

The tension is left unresolved as you pull on him again, away from the stage, and once again, you spin with him. 

I’m feelin,

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind,

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life, 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind, 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life, 

At the end of your chorus, you wink at him again and send him flying, twirling toward the crowd and right into Raihan’s lean, firm chest. You meander around the crowd some more as you sing, but after that, you eventually hop back on the stage to finish your song. 

Leon, to put it simply, is out of breath, but you don’t look affected in the slightest. Maybe because it’s your job. Maybe because you're from another planet?

“Holy shit, man,” Raihan laughs from behind Leon as he grabs the Champion’s arms, twirling him once again, and Leon thinks he might just vomit if someone makes him spin like that one more time. “What the hell was that?” 

The song isn’t over, but he can’t even hear it anymore as he’s swarmed by his friends. Nessa looks blown away. “We can’t take you anywhere, can we?” She laughs.

“Apparently not!” 

“Har har,” Leon groans, a hand moving to clasp his sweaty forehead. “I think that’ll be enough dancing for me.” Behind him, he’s mildly aware of someone messing with his hair, and suddenly it feels a bit cooler as his hair is tied up into a ponytail, away from his neck and shoulders. Half his mind still intact, he reaches behind him, clasps a hand that feels like Raihan’s and squeezes it as a form of thanks- and then he’s stumbling away, back to his booth where he can catch his breath. 

 Time swirls in his head unsteadily, his head throbbing with the beat of drums and electronic noise. Leon still feels so hot- a heat in his belly that’s swirling and twirling and making him woozy. Resting in the booth he undoes a few buttons on his dress shirt, just wanting to cool down, but his tight pants keep him constricted and sweating. 

Cool down. Leon just wants to cool down. 

Blurry visions of purple lips and teeth cloud up his mind, and his pants are so tight,  and a painfully unfamiliar and alluring voice still bounces in his skull. He hardly even notices when imaginary becomes reality as you eventually sit next to him in the booth, your hand on his thigh, and your chest pressed against his arms as you flash those bright teeth at him again. Weren’t you singing on stage? When did you leave? Where were his friends?

Are you really real?

He wants you to prove it to him. 

Your laughter rings out, and suddenly you’re closer than before, and his disoriented mind hardly cares when your hands wander around his form. Purple lips press softly against his own, probably stained another hideously lovely color, but Leon’s so hot that it feels like a fever as his body moves to straddle you and he kisses you again. Again. 

Something pulls on the loose strands of hair spilling out of his ponytail, and he moans, and then his hair is pulled once more- harder- and there’s a tongue in his mouth that tastes like razzberries. 

Are you real?

Your lips trail against his jaw, hands holding his hips firmly- when did you get under his shirt? Leon can feel warm breaths on his ear, and there’s a whisper that rings through his hazy, clouded mind. 

“I’ll prove it to you.” 

It sounds like music. 

---

Waking up wasn’t pleasant when it felt like you were only waking up to a nightmare. 

His dreams- he had barely dreamt- but his dreams were fuzzy and warm, pleasant. Nothing like the painful throb that he woke up to, thrumming through his whole body and his skull. The Champion doesn’t even have the pleasure of waking up in his own home. 

When he opens his eyes, he sees that he’s in a living room of some sort, but he’s never been to this place before. 

 Which begs the question of how he got here at all. He has a feeling it’s not because of his horrible sense of direction- especially when he moves up from where he was sleeping on the couch and the blanket draped over him pools in his lap, letting him see the various marks that scatter across his body. 

Hickies, love marks, predatory bites. Call them what you will. 

There’s a lot of them. 

 “I see the Champion is finally awake,” a voice that’s only vaguely familiar cuts through his thoughts. Leon looks up, finding a blurry form of a body in a doorway. He can’t make out who it is, but when they step closer, his mind quickly catches up and does the math for him.

It’s you- that singer from last night. No longer bathed in neon lights, you look dramatically different- especially because you’re wearing a loose shirt and no pants, and Leon can easily see the bright marks scattered on you just like they’re on him. 

He must have done that. To you. 

“You know,” you speak up again, breaking Leon out of his thoughts. You move to sit carefully on the coffee table placed in front of the couch he’s on. You keep your distance, and the gesture is appreciated in the back of Leon’s mind. “I was surprised when I woke up this morning. I had no idea it was you.” 

“You didn’t?” His voice is croaky and dry, and that’s when you hand him the glass of water that he hadn’t noticed you were carrying, along with two white pills that are probably aspirin. 

“To be fair, the club is really dark. And I had already had a few drinks in me when I went up on stage.” You watch as Leon chugs the water you gave him. “But I was miles more sober than you were. I should have noticed.”

The information doesn’t make him feel better. There’s an uncomfortable feeling spreading through him from his gut, making his shoulders tense- 

“We didn’t do anything,” you say. “Besides making out and all that. You were certainly tempting with how eager you acted,” you smile impishly at him, chuckling, “but I knew you were also out of your mind. Nothing happened besides some innocent grinding. You passed out on my couch, too, after a while. Woke up again and threw up all over yourself, but I cleaned that up. Should probably shower when you get home, though.” 

 Leon blinks once, twice, three times as he processes the information you gave him. There’s a chance you could be lying. The Champion hardly remembered anything from last night, just flashes. But when he looks at you, sitting half-naked as you twiddle nervously with your hands in your lap, he feels like he can believe you. 

Especially the throwing up part. His stomach feels unsteady enough that he can certainly believe that part. 

“...Thank you for doing that for me,” Leon murmurs eventually. “Do you… have any idea where my clothes are?” 

“Ah,” you nod and stand up, hands on your thighs. “Yes, I had put them in the dryer earlier. Since you threw up on your clothes and all that. I’ll go see if they’re done.” 

 You leave for a separate room, leaving Leon alone in your living room. His head is still throbbing, but the aspirin is slowly kicking in. 

As he slowly starts to assess the situation he’s in, the only words he can find to describe it is… odd. Very odd.

Getting drunk and making out with strangers isn’t like him. Especially male strangers. Especially coming home with said male strangers. 

So what happened that made him so drawn to you, anyway? Leon honestly doesn’t know. You were attractive, that’s for sure. 

Maybe he was lonely. Desperate. 

He doesn’t get to think more about it because soon you walk into the room again- wearing some shorts this time- his clothes in your hand as you smile at him. 

Your teeth aren’t glowing purple anymore, but there’s still a tint to them that makes him huff out a chuckle as he takes his clothes from your hand, murmuring a thank you as he does. You also hand him his phone, which he hadn’t even thought about until he saw it. 

 Turning the screen on, he sees a headache of messages waiting for him, so he turns it off for now. 

 “So where, uh… Am I, exactly?” He asks you as he puts his shirt back on, fumbling with the buttons. You sit back down on the coffee table. 

“My apartment in Spikemuth, not that far from the bar. I know you’re pants with directions, so I can help you head back to Wyndon if you’d like. But I,” you look away from him again, and Leon notices how you twirl your hands in your lap again, “uh, I understand if you probably would like to head home by yourself, too.” 

It clicks in Leon’s head then. For someone who acted so confidently last night, the confidence that lured Leon in to begin with- you were oddly cute once you were pulled into the light. It’s almost endearing. 

Leon doesn’t reply in favor for shuffling on his pants instead- you glance away and hide your eyes with your hand as you do, which Leon audibly chuckles at since there’s not much for him to hide that you haven’t seen already, but he appreciates it none the less. 

Instead of replying to your request, he asks a question. “What’s your name?” Your eyes meet his, and he smiles in a fluster. “I never really caught it last night. If I did- well- I forgot.” 

“Right,” you nod and you don’t look like you mind. “The name’s ___.”

“___,” He tests the name on his lips. It sounds a bit familiar- so perhaps he did learn your name last night. “Well, ___. To be quite honest, last night was very unlike me. I’m a bit out of my comfort zone,” he says, and now his own hands are twirling around. “But I’d appreciate the invitation to get to know who I was smooching on last night if you’re willing to chat as we head to Wyndon.” 

Your eyes light up in surprise- perhaps you weren’t expecting that. Again, the word ‘cute’ crosses his mind, especially when you smile at him. That was the most familiar thing- your smile and how you managed to still send anxious twirls in his stomach. It was odd…

“Yeah- that’d be nice. I’ll get changed and- well- you probably want to use my hairbrush. And maybe we can slap some make-up on your neck, too,” you laugh as you stand, Leon following close behind as you lead him to your bathroom. 

Yes, the feeling you made him feel was odd… But not bad. 

Not bad at all, really.

[otheenglishsetters]

WIP (AKA, I never published my work on Tumblr before and I am TERRIFIED)

Hello! I finally gave in and splurged on a Xbox this year, which may have also coincided with my rising anxiety and boredom since I’ve decided to take a year off of college (my senior year to be exact). Luckily, my boyfriend and friends, knowing how I tend to throw myself into fictional worlds when I am stressed had recommended to me this sweet little game series. It was filled with space and wonder and characters so wonderful that they will make your heart hurt.

That, dear readers, was Mass Effect. 

I had already played a little of the first game of the original trilogy at the very beginning of 2020 at my boyfriend’s house, long before all of my post-college plans came crashing down (as did the world too!) 

So I finally invested my time (and money) into Mass Effect Andromeda in November of 2020. Let me tell you, after loosing control over everything else in my life [laying panicked in bed, constantly praying that the pandemic would not claim the life of my middle aged father after already losing my mother to lung cancer just two years prior], it was unbelievably refreshing to be able to have some resemblance of control in this fictional world (And yes, I realize that this is a video game and of course I have control). And the fact that what Bioware was doing was...pretty freaking great.

So, I apologize if this is coming off a pity-party, I promise, it isn’t supposed to be. It’s more like I had just finished my first playthrough of my first videogame ever and I am filled with feelings and emotions. I never post original content on Tumblr, and that’s mostly because I got scared off posting my work after receiving mean-spirited reviews when I posted my fanfiction on Fanfiction.com years and years ago (which is fair, because looking back my work wasn’t that great, but holy crap I was 14 guys!) I have not written creatively since my high school creative writing class in senior year, but this game and this winter, I thought I would try? And hopefully get to connect with other fans? Let me know what you guys think; I’m planning to add more chapters/content soon. Okay, I’ll quit rambling...

He notices that she tends to have a lazy eye. He’s not sure when exactly he notices this, but it’s becoming more and more apparent.

Which is not a problem, absolutely not. In fact, he thinks it’s adorable in a way, especially when she’s tucked into a pillow and loudly craving sushi. 

“I wondered if she was mocking me,” Keema notes one day. Out of all the Angara Reyes has had the pleasure to meet, she still seems one of the few who can truly read humans in a non-lateral sense. Her favorite so far was when she discovered the music genres of both EDM and metal in the same day, “it wasn’t until I was approving shipping orders from the docks the other day I realized why. The Pathfinder needs glasses.”

She also loses control of her lazy eye, it seems, mostly at night, usually by 2300 hours standard time. 

“I’ve been reading studies about team bonding.”

He hums as he rubs her back. Sara, despite commenting on the numerous things she’s done throughout her day, seems wired and intent on rambling. He’s okay with that. More than okay, it’s been years practically since either of them has had a free moment to even been able to just relax in bed and daydream. They probably both haven’t been able to enjoy this luxury since they were…teens? Finishing school and about to launch themselves into the military? For him, he figures it was before that, probably when he decided to work for that florist at 12. Sara gives bits and pieces of her life in the Milky Way but he thinks she was definitely a kid who tried to ‘help’ C-Sec with their cases, constantly looking for ways to help people in any way she can. He smiles. It’s probably a never-ending itch for her. 

And now? He’s just content that he convinced her to come down to Kadara to ‘inspect Ditaeon’, or whatever bullshit she told Tann. Luckily, it seems that life is, slower? No, that’s not it, people are more than excited to create themselves anew here. Stores and trading posts are popping up everywhere and another hospital has just been built in Prodromos. There’s practically a whole shopping district in Kadara now, with outdoor venues and a movie theater that plays cinema classics every night. It’s more like they both are finally properly settled into their positions, like when a CEO is situated in a new company. Sure, the CEO may face numerous problems at first, especially if it’s during a recession or the company is about to go bankrupt. The CEO may even have to intimidate secondary managers and fight to gain respect; however, once the dust settles, whilst there may be everyday problems, it’s nothing compared to what it used to be. Usually, these problems are solved by lunchtime, mid-morning if either of them are lucky.

In the old days, when she appeared to be this amped up, Reyes would subtly (or not so subtle, it depends on how you look at it), swoon her until they had sex. It probably didn’t feel that way at the time, but sometimes Reyes cringes when he thinks of how rushed their attempts at romance used to be. Back then, they didn’t know how long she would be in the area and they would race to make the most of the evening. Now he wonders how much he used to unconsciously push aside the thought that either one of them could be dead the next day. 

Errrr. Negative bedtime thoughts. Not good for sleepytime. 

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“Are you listening?”

“You were just telling me how you were reading various theses on social exchange theory but then you were already anxious about the thing that you have yet to tell me so you decided to read something familiar like one of the works by Dr. Brené Brown,” he pauses to give a quick glance at the data pad in his right hand. “Mi cielo, I have been informed to tell you that your contacts have been delivered as they were just sent in, along with the rest of the Tempest’s supplies, this morning.” 

He liked to think he was a good boyfriend.

“I hate when you do that.”

“What?” Listen? Dearest, it’s part of the job description as your lover. Speaking of, remind me to pick up toilet paper tomorrow.”

“No, multitask.”

He sighs and reaches up into the upper center of her back. Oof, she really is tense there. “You do it too.”

“Not at nighttime!” She scowls and rubs her eyebrow. “Ew, when did I become an old prune as soon as it gets dark?”

He starts tenderizing the hard muscle. Mentally, he makes a note to remind her later when she’s not grumpy to do her prescribed yoga. “We’re all getting older dear. I’m thirty-one and the other day I heard my knees crack.” 

She was silent. Any other fool would think that she was lost in thought while others would be jealous of the close bond she shares with her AI. Honestly, Reyes is just grateful she spends any of her time with him, let alone his bed. And if she occupies a part of it in a mental showdown with SAM, who is he to complain. 

“SAM thinks you should get an appointment. Even if Dr. Nakamoto is busy, there’s plenty of others who are just as qualified. Also, I think Peebee and Jaal are sleeping with each other.” 

  Both he and Sara know the in(s) and the outs of their jobs so well by now, that he can probably predict easily what his men will ask for even before the message is downloaded on his office’ terminal. However right now, as Reyes stops reading a report on corn being grown on Havarl that he already skimmed over this morning over his huevos rancheros, all he can think about before checking to see if he is correct is how her left non-dominant eye is floating far out to the side. 

Hmmm, who knew fraternization would be cutting into his beauty sleep? 

*************************************************

If you made it this far, thanks so much for checking this out! I apologize for any grammar mistakes. If you’re confused, this is set to take place three years after the Hyperion first makes contact with the Nexus in the Andromeda Galaxy. I was just so intrigued by the dialogue between Jaal and Peebee. And then, after the initial curiosity, I was about to forget about it when I came across some interesting dialogue while driving the Nomad...

Jaal: Vetra, I catch Peebee looking at me. Frequently.

Vetra: Peebee likes new shiny things. Uhh… and why not? You’re genuinely interesting.

#

Jaal: Vetra, remember when I told you that Peebee was looking at me? Frequently?

Vetra: Yeah? Is it getting annoying? Want me to say something?

Jaal: No, no, no. It’s… just that… lately, I find myself… looking back. 

Vetra: Huh.

**

So of course I had to dig into that! And what better way to do so than by using my new favorite ship: Reyes and Sara? (Domestic times!)

Anyways friends, hopefully my writing isn’t awful and you enjoyed yourselves. I may wake up in the morning and delete this. Who knows. 

Have a great day guys!

[obscureoperations]

And for the world record of asks, this person is back again. I’m just a huge sucker for your stories, I’m sorry bro 🤧🖤

When you have time and you feel like it why not try doing something like Martin’s s/o is a soldier and she just came home from, as my uncle said it, ‘Nam? So let’s say Martin is really excited since she’d been gone off and on for a couple years and a lot the final year it was all going on. He was getting ready to go to the air port but was working the last couple minutes of his shift. Then like a bus or something pulls up and she gets out and waits for him outside the shop. And he just kinda notices she’s like stoic and shell shocked so he tries his hardest to let her know he’s there and cares about her. I know that’s way too detailed but I’m a romantic fool for war reunitings like that. Also I apologize for the time shift lol. Hope you’re well, don’t feel like you have to write it 🖤

Ohh man, three decades later...

I really loved this ask, I thought it was really sweet<3 but apparently, I have to offer some sort of disclaimer.

I know nothing about war. I never wanted to be a solider. The closest I've got is an uncle who participated. I know nothing about Nam other than the textbooks-- and I'm not making light of anyone that died on either front. Let me just write the thing please... with no disrespect.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of your voice was etched into his brain, it was one of the few things that helped him fall asleep. He read the letters every day, the weeks were pretty much a blur. All filler days until Wednesday came and you had the opportunity to call him. There was so much he wanted to tell you, but he had no idea where to start. He just wanted to listen to your voice, you seemed excited at times-- almost exaggeratedly so. He just wanted to hold you. He refused to look at the news. He couldn’t imagine you immersed in such destruction. He only skimmed through the articles in fear that he might find your name in bold print in the very back.

Despite the situation, Martin was extremely proud of you. Your bravery, the sheer commitment to your country. You always said that you were going to enlist... so it didn’t matter whether or not you were drafted. For the longest, he figured you were joking. There was no way he could Imagine you, over there. Surrounded by chaos and destruction--and death. But, you were never more sure of anything in your entire life. He heard all the stories about your father,and his numerous accomplishments and accolades from war. The way your eyes would light up whenever you talked about him. He knew that you were about to live out your dream.

You were extremely serious about your training, you always had been. He was left in awe of your sheer athleticism. Even before you even mentioned your interest in enlisting-- you seemed as though you were preparing for something.

The weeks before your departure flew by in a blur. Each moment seemed to slip through his fingers, he wanted to be around you all the time. He tried to take in every detail, from your smile to the freckles on your cheeks. The way sunlight would bounce off your hair, the feel of your hand holding his. There was only time that he actually broke down, he actually begged you not to go. “We.. we can run off somewhere.. They’d never find you. J-just please don’t leave.” The words just seemed to escape, he instantly regretted them as he buried his face against your neck. He tried to control the sobs, but they continued to roll in wave after wave. So forceful, his voice no longer sounded like his own as his fingers grasp aimlessly at the hem of your shirt.

You weren’t phased...you didn’t yell at him for asking you to put off your dream. You began to rock him, gently as your fingers card through his hair “Sweetheart..it’s alright..It's gonna be alright. I wouldn’t leave if I felt any differently.” More muffled sobs, and you hold him tighter. You could faintly hear him mumble “I’m sorry” “It’s okay.” After a while, something seemed to switch over in his brain, you never lied. There was no way that you would leave him forever. You were going to be alright. He was sure of it. Needless to say he ended up ushering you upstairs, to your room. If Cuda wondered anything about him-- that was just too bad. He was adamant on staring with you for the rest of the night.

~~

He shouldn’t be this nervous.. It was the moment he had been anticipating for years. You had been involved for the duration of the War, the Months home seemed so few and far in between. Every time you returned, he promised himself not to get disillusioned. He enjoyed the moments he had with you--but constantly had to remind himself that it was only temporary. Sure, it sounds like an awful way of living--but he refused to let himself become complacent. He didn’t want to pretend that everything was normal, and you were finally here for good. He clung to you all the tighter--seemingly finding fascination in the little things. He appreciated you so much more. The depth of your kindness,all the little things you did to show him your love.

Martin’s hands flew over the register keys in a flurry of motion. If he kept moving, his hands didn’t seem to shake. His stomach was in knots, heartbeat hammering against his ribs. He could still remember the call from yesterday at two thirty in the afternoon. It was a call directly to the store, somehow the ring didn’t sound the same. For some reason, an image of you flashed through his mind and for a moment he wanted to be sick. That was another recurring change since your departure. He was so afraid to pick up the telephone. He was so scared that someday he’d pick up the phone to be met with a stranger informing him of the worst.

He reaches for the receiver only to be met with an empty dial tone. Someone else must have grabbed it. Knowing Martin’s luck, it was probably Him. He did his best to reduce the line, scanning..bagging items in a frenzy. After a while, Cuda Moved to join him behind the counter, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

The old Man had been alarmingly nice to him for the past few months. It was almost like when you first went away. Martin refused to leave his room, he’d neglect to come down for breakfast or supper. The old man would bang on the door, before slamming down the tray. “Eat! Nosferatu… I will not have you wither away in my house!” In a way your departure, and Martin’s reaction towards it left him actually human in Cuda’s eyes. He must care about the sanctity of human life just a bit. He cared about you. He tried to keep his insults to a minimum.

“Here… take it!” Cuda shoved the receiver into Martin’s hands.

He wanted to be sick… his vision began to blacken. He was expecting to be met with one of the patrol officer’s voices.

“H.. hello?”

“Baby, it’s over!”

It was you… he was so relieved.

“What?”

He could hear loud jeers from the background, muffled laughter as you spoke in the background.

“It’s over.. It’s finally over! I’m coming home on the next flight.”

From the sounds of it, you were at a pub or something, he could hear the jeers from your fellow soldiers. You seemed so overly happy, nearly frantic. He wanted to hold you so badly.

“Okay… When can I see you?” He tries to keep his voice as calm as possible. You weren’t calm in the least, he could already tell. You were simply trying to amp yourself up.. Attempting to sound excited as possible. His heart ached, just imagining everything that you’ve seen.

“Tomorrow.. Honey. Please meet me at the airport.” and with that, you hung up.

He would meet you there.

~

That night passed in a gray and grainy blur. He couldn't sleep, he kept envisioning your face. He continued to hear massive explosions, the sound of brick collapsing over mortar. Children crying as missiles explode. He had this vision of you huddled in a doorway with one of your fellow men clinging to your arm. He could almost feel your tears seeping into his shirt, Please hold me closer. Your eyes were wide and frantic as you search his face for any form of shelter.

You’re alright...y/n.. Everything’s okay. Just come back to me now

~

Once there was finally a lull in the barrage of customers, Martin found himself staring out the window. This was the day, he couldn’t wait till three thirty. He would be at the airport, eagerly awaiting for you to arrive. It must have been a smudge on the glass, or either his mind was really starting to slip. Directly outside, standing under a billboard for Pepsi cola, he saw a lone figure that eerily resembled you.

“No… couldn’t be. It was only half past noon. “

He steps in closer pretending to wipe off the glass--as he peers in through the window. All color seems to drain from his face, pins and needles. It was you. Poised directly outside the shop, at the bus stop- duffel bag resting at your feet. You looked so tired and thin, he could almost see right through you.

You looked incredibly gaunt, the delicate curves of your cheeks replaced with harsh lines and angles.Your head was tilted towards ground, you were fiddling with some small object in your hand. Martin rushes out in an instant, completely ignoring the older woman that stepped into line. Everything seemed to move in slow motion the second he barged out the door.

The cars honked at him as he darts across the street, it was mere seconds until he was at your side. Grasping at your hands. “ Y/n… love, please look at me!”

You seemed to be in a bit of a trance as you continued to fiddle with the object in hand. From the looks of it, it was a small polished stone. Martin really didn't need to know where it came from or from who. He didn’t stop to question it, all he needed was you. The moment your eyes actually met, his arms immediately moved to your waist. You nearly fainted. Whether from shock dehydration or whatever else-- you found your arms draped across his neck. He carried you inside the shop, past the customers--ignoring Cuda’s stare, all the way into the break room.

The old man’s eyes settled on you, and he decided to keep most of his complaints at bay. He was so tired of watching Martin melancholically wither away at the table. You were home now, and hopefully you'd move him out of his sight.

~

Martin rummaged through the coolers to find ice packs to place along your neck. Digging out fresh pieces of steak to soothe your swollen eyes. You could hear Cuda ranting behind the walls--you glance over to Martin fretting over the deep freezer.

“You know that it was you right?” Your voice was barely a whisper. Martin immediately drops the frozen slabs of beef in his hand, as he scrambles close to your side.

“Me what?” His fingers lightly trace over your arms as he nuzzles in close. After everything, he was not going to cry. Not again. You were actually here. The faint smell of your skin… and your shampoo. The way your right hand immediately entangles in his hair. He missed you so much. He began to tell you all the things that he wanted to say, without the restraints of parchment paper.

He wanted to take care of you. Despite your tightly starched uniform, the pins on your collar digging into his cheek, you were exhausted.. To the truest extent of the word.

You were slouched back against the brick, sitting on top of one of Cuda’s deep freezers. The sight alone reminded him of the beginning of your relationship. He wanted to scoop you up into his arms, only to escape through the back window and sprint back to your place.

But instead, he was finally looking at you, in all of your glory, and completely broken at the same time. He continued to hold you, arms draped across your waist as you murmured...

“The memory of your face..Mar-you've got me through so much. I was never gonna leave you."

[thebraingremlinsaremad]

Daily Blog #15: August 22, 2021

Dollar Tree is honestly pretty fucking awesome 👌👌👌

I set my alarm for like 6:25 this morning, but it took 6 minutes for the "Horsin' Around" theme song instrumental to wake me up. I was pretty tired lol. I just dismissed it and went back to sleep.

I only went back to sleep because I knew I had another alarm set for 7:00. That got me up.

I should mention that this was still in the RV over an hour away from the house.

After I got up, I went to go get a shower, and did so successfully.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten my brush this time and had to do it afterwards after my hair had a bit of time to dry, which did make it a little more difficult lol.

I got dressed and grabbed my stuff, putting it into my car.

I made it a point to see and say "see you later" to my grandparents before I left for the flea market.

My dad insisted that I stayed to say goodbye to my mom, so I left.

I did NOT have cell service up there, as was mentioned in my previous 2 blogs of which I could only post today, so finding my way was a tiny bit difficult until I got some service to ask Google to take me to "...".

It worked and I got there.

On my drive, I listened to 1 by Simple Kid, a CD I had previously purchased at a Dollar Tree location.

I got a call from the guy at the flea market saying that I had some people there waiting for me. He asked how far away I was, to which I said "about 10 minutes." Ironically, that call made me miss my exit, as Google couldn't talk during the call, and added about 3 minutes to my arrival time lmao.

I did sell the Xbox that he said someone was interested in. I got $40 for it. I spent 27¢ on it. Pretty good return if you ask me.

I couldn't sell it with anything other than a power cord because the controller and AV cables I had been using to play it there were for my personal console. I'm just glad I can actually hook my Xbox up and stop having to drag them to the flea market along with a small library of games.

Not too long after I sold the Xbox, someone came in and asked if I wanted to see some electronics he had in his car. I went out with him. It was a pair of 3ft speakers and a Pioneer audio system with dual cassette decks (although neither of them works) and a 25 Disc CD-changer, as well as the standard AM/FM tuner. Additionally, there was a Fisher amplifier and AM/FM tuner as well as a Fisher Direct Drive turntable. He said he wanted $60 for em, but before that he casually, and probably accidentally, dropped that he was just gonna take em to the thrift store.

Big mistake.

I got em for $35 lmao. THERE GOES MOST OF MY PROFIT.

Oh well.

I tested everything. As I mentioned, the cassette decks don't work, but everything else does apart from the turntable needing a new stylus.

I posted some new photos of the shop to Facebook, and someone soon DMed me about a stereo system.

I priced everything, and it turns out I have about $300 worth of equipment from that deal, the Fisher amp and tuner being worth about $150.

The buyer will hopefully show up next weekend, for he wants to buy the Fisher stuff ($185 with the turntable), the 3ft speakers, an 8-track deck, and a Kenwood deck we've had for a week or two.

The speakers are listed for $50 (and are worth around $100-150), the Kenwood Deck for $50 as well, and the 8-track for $35. That makes it about $320 in equipment. Since he's buying so much, I'll knock it down to $270 and essentially give him the speakers or cassette deck for free lol.

Apart from that stuff, not much happened at the flea market. I sold some records, cassettes, CDs and I think 2 DVDs. One person bought a VHS tape? That money was the other guy's though. Oh well xD.

I can't say that I didn't miss my wonderful partner while on the trip. I actually brought along the stuffed animal they gave me (who's name is Greg) and snuggled with him both nights.

I was very happy to hear from them UwU.

They let me rant and I let them rant.

I honestly give them too much responsibility over me xD. I'm like, "Okay, I'm gonna do this. HOLD ME TO IT."

I know I can't hold myself to anything I personally say (this blog being the only exception apparently), but I listen to them pretty well I think 🤔. If they tell me, "No, you don't need that VCR," so long as it's not some weird specialty thing, like a worldwide VCR 🥵, I'll be like "Yeah, you rite bro."

I love you man xD. You control my craziness pretty well. I'm so thankful for you UwU.

#relationshipgoals

So part way through the flea market day, I went over to Dollar Tree to buy some snack, but ended up looking through the CDs to see if there was anything good. I took photos of about 18 CDs and flipped through them online for the remainder of the flea market day.

I deleted the photos of the ones I didn't want and kept those that I liked. Surprisingly, I ended up buying 13 CDs there, but not before dropping them on the floor like the dumbass I am.

Also, sorry for all the nerd shit I spilled on your lap earlier. No one cares about amps and tuners xD.

I'M LISTENING TO ONE OF THE DOLLAR TREE CDS RIGHT NOW THO.

I already transferred over to my online library on iBroadcast and put the disc into my CD changer, which is now holding 164 CDs.

Its max capacity is 300 discs 🥵

WHY AM I NERD

Oh well

I like being a nerd gurl

Also maybe a technosexual 👀

I get really excited over some electronics. Like. REALLY excited.

Some editing VCRs are like "Holy shit that is SEXY. Look at those goddamn VU meters 🥵. And hhhh there are like 7 inputs on this thing and individual controls for left and right audio gain, not to mention Hi-Fi S-VHS recording. Hhhhhhhhhhh please gimme 😭. Why are you so expensive?"

I uh, mean, uh, *cough* look, pretty lights.

Oh yeah, I was gonna say the album I was listening to xD. MAN I GOT SIDETRACKED.

It's 37 Everywhere by Punchline. Def give it a listen; it's pretty heccin good.

Another notable album I picked up was Page One by Steven Page. I very much like the first track, "A New Shore." It's quite catchy and he has a great voice imo.

Also at dollar tree, I bought a regular bag of Fieras and 2 bags of Fieras Sticks, which were marked down to 75¢/bag because they're expiring soon.

I honestly like the generic Dollar Tree version of Takis more than actual Takis. They're a lot more flavorful when it comes to the lime, but also hotter at the same time.

Don't get the hot nacho ones tho. Hot nacho? More like hot pile of shit.

HAH

Goteem.

They're not that good xD.

THE REGULAR ONES ARE FIRE THO

"How do you do fellow kids?"

I got home and started working on putting the CDs onto my computer, and then onto iBroadcast, but not without first adding The Music Man to my digital library, something I had neglected for a month or two. The CD had just been sitting there lol.

I also switched my digital file for "The Black Parade" to that of the uncensored CD, which I had purchased before I event started working over 2 months ago.

MAN I'M LAZY

I eventually get around to shit tho lol. I guess it's just a matter of priority.

What usually takes priority is digging through everything to find something that I forgot about but then remembered, making a mess in the process that I would then have to clean up, at least partially.

I think the album just ended. I've been writing for a while xD. I'ma start "I Made You Something" by The Island of the Misfit Toys.

I'll tell you where that album came from in a minute.

In the meantime, where was I?

I kinda lost my train of thought despite reading up to see where I was. Oh well. On I go.

I ate dinner and kept working on those CDs, eventually putting my clothes from the week into the washer.

I FORGOT TO PUT MY SHAPING UNDERWEAR IN. FUCKING HELL MAN.

I wanted to wash em for this week 😭

No tight pants for Leonna I guess qwq.

Meanwhile, the box of my CD album cases is overflowing. I need another box.

I keep all of the album artworks in a big CD folder. That's almost full.

I wanna fill my entire CD changer. That's one of my big goals in life. Idk why, but I just wanna legitimately fill the entire thing.

My clothes are in the dryer now. I don't think I have the time (or energy) to fold them tonight. I'll leave that for tomorrow morning before work.

And God. Fucking. Damnit. I start school again on Wednesday. NOT looking forward to that, and neither are my 2 coworkers. We already have low enough staff, but only the two of them working is gonna be a pain in the ass.

I'll still work Saturdays.

I need to contact my guidance counselor to get out of the gym class I signed up for. I scheduled this shit before I found out I was trans, and I don't wanna deal with the fucking locker room situation 🙄 I have far more important matters.

Okay so anyway, the album I'm listening to came from a cassette. I bought this cassette a few months ago at the flea market along with a few others. The reason I bought them? They were all newer cassette releases from the 2010's, and they're all actually pretty good music from very indie bands.

Currently getting mad at iBroadcast's compression algorithm. It's unnaturally fucking anything over -10db up. Oh well, there's not really anything I can do about it.

I have like 13GB of music on my phone btw. That's about 3.5k songs on 268 albums.

I'm kind of an audiophile, but I'm too cheap to pay for a lossless service. Oh well.

They do actually have a lossless service on iBroadcast, but once again, too cheap.

Someone just sent me a friend request who legitimately posted that BLM and the democratic party are hate groups.

BLOCK.

Goodbye ho.

I don't get that. They call the democratic party a hate group when they hate people like me, and I, being more of a democrat although not fully because the 2-party system is fucked, think nothing more of them than they're very wrong about certain things, especially, as shown, that black people, as well as asian, Indian, native, and people of all ethnicities and backgrounds, are not equal to white people.

Yeh.

Totally.

You go buddy.

Anyway, yeah, I can, and do, convert music and video from analog formats to digital files in order for me to archive and listen to whenever and wherever I please. I've actually made a bit of a business out of it, but I don't get too much work from it. At least I'm not overloading myself xD.

I honestly have so much more to say, but I should probably go to sleep soon.

A few final shoutouts to the following people and companies:

-Dollar Tree

-Steven Page

-Broken World Media

-The Island of Misfit Toys

-Simple Kid

-Punchline

-My incredible partner QwQ I love you so much. Thanks for being the best all the time. I hope I can give you the best life ever.

Anyway I suppose this is goodnight. Lmk if you want a full list of the CDs I bought today! I'll link that song by Steven Page here.

And here's a good song from Simple Kid

I really like music lol. Enjoy these pieces.

Anyway, goodnight lol.

Lots of love,

-Leonna.

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 7

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 7 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 6 / Part 8

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing, drinking, angst

Historical Inaccuracies: none that I can think of!

Word Count: 4.3k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The sun made you wonder. Made you wonder why it was shining in the first place. How wretched of it to shine so prettily when you felt so miserable.

It was a misery too out of reach to be pacified, for it was not the obvious sort, the kind in which you cry and shudder and feel like you’re suffocating. This was the kind of miserable in which you mope, staring out the window in a daze, and the only thing you are aware of is the frown on your lips; you opt for bitterness with every word and thought. This is the miserable where you feel detached and lost, like you exist in one universe and your feelings in a neighbouring dimension.

Brian hadn’t spoken to you for over a week.

It had rained every day since.

When classes had resumed the following Monday, Brian didn’t smile at you when you chanced a ‘good morning’. He merely pressed his lips together and ducked beneath his curls. That was how you knew he was avoiding you.

On Tuesday, Brian failed Carmichael’s test. This you knew because he ripped it in half as he stormed out of the door, following the lecture And he was glowering. You’d never thought that timid Brian could even have the ability to glower.

On Wednesday afternoon, Deacy called you.

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me and Rog for tea today?”

You bit your lip slowly. “Just you and Rog?”

“Yep!” he said. “I’ve told you that Veronica’s just gone up to see her parents for a couple of days, and that I’m working so she thought it best for me to stay behind, haven’t I?”

“Yes, you’ve told me,” you replied. “And Heather went with her.” Heather and Veronica had grown up in the same town, and so Heather, behind due to visit her own parents, had boarded the train with Ronnie.

“Oh, yes.” John paused, then asked hesitantly, “Are… are you okay with just me and Roger, for tea I mean?”

You breathed quietly in relief.

“Y/N? Who are you avoiding? You haven’t fallen out with Heather, have you?”

“Oh, no no,” you assured him.

“With Veronica, then? Surely not.”

“No, Deacy, she’s lovely.”

“She likes you too. You get along well. Maybe you should go shopping together or something sometime,” he babbled.

“Yeah,” you answered distractedly.

“Well, you have our number. And you know you’re always welcome over.”

“Thanks, Deacy—”

But Deacy was still trying to work out who it was you were supposedly at odds with. “Not Roger!” he cried. “That’s why you’re not sure about lunch. You and Roger are arguing, aren’t you?”

“No, Roger and I are fine, John.”

“Oh, good,” he sighed. “I was worried for a moment. And I’ve already had to diffuse so many fights this week, in the band, y’know.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he sighed, “you wouldn’t believe it. So many. It’s like cats and dogs at the moment. Not sure why. Yelling and throwing various instrumental gear. Drumsticks, microphone stands, cables… clumsily. Almost an amp, yesterday.”

You winced, “That sounds, uh, violent?”

“Actually,” he considered, meanwhile you pondered the reason he was jabbering nineteen a dozen, “they’ve all sort of been started by… Oh dear.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, Y/N, dear,” he said in a pitiful tone. “You’re avoiding Brian.”

“Am not!” you exclaimed.

“Are you not?” He sounded genuinely surprised this time.

“If anything, he’s avoiding me,” you grumbled, because at this point, Brian deliberately turned his head away when you passed him in the mornings. He seemed so pained by your presence that wondered if perhaps there was something more to the death of his aunt, if you had unknowingly poured salt on a second wound.

“Well…” began Deacy, seemingly at a loss. “Well, why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You rubbed your eyes tiredly. You’d not been sleeping well for the past few nights, awake and alone with your pestering thoughts. “I asked where he’d been, when he disappeared off to god knows where the other week.”

John’s puzzlement was apparent. “And?” he said.

“And nothing. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“That’s terribly odd, Y/N. I asked. We all asked. He said he’d been up to visit his parents when they lost power in a storm. Whole phone lines came crashing down, apparently. Too much of a mess to get any sort of communication through to anywhere, and he figured we wouldn’t worry badly.”

You shook your head, then remembered that you were on the phone. “That can’t be true, Deacy. And even if it were, we did worry, remember?”

“I suppose we did worry,” Deacy conceded. “But what do you mean, that can’t be true? Did he not tell you the same thing?”

The air gasped from your lungs.

He hadn’t told anyone.

Except you.

“No, Deacy,” you said. “He— he said… His aunt died.”

“What?”

“His aunt died.”

“Yes, I heard you, Y/N, but… He lied to us?”

“Or he didn’t tell you the whole truth,” you suggested. It was something you did often; you didn’t like to lie, but naturally, you didn’t want everyone to know everything.

“I suppose. That’s just so terribly unlike Brian,” John said concernedly. “He doesn’t like lying.”

“Um… who do you know that actively enjoys lying?”

“Oh, Freddie’s near-pathological,” Deacy said off-handedly. “But Brian’s got more of a moral compass than I have!”

“That’s slightly concerning…” you remarked. “So, how is Freddie?”

“I talked to him and he said he was well,” Deacy related, “but now I’m not so sure. He’s seemed a bit off lately. Something to do with Mary, I think.”

You frowned. “Yeah, I think something’s wrong.”

Deacy sighed. “I’m beginning to think the only people who are okay are Veronica and myself.”

“Roger isn’t okay?”

“He’s usually the person Brian takes his temper out on.”

“Oh.”

“Tell you what,” said Deacy, “come to tea at mine at seven tonight and we’ll talk more then. I imagine you’ve got lectures to get to.”

“Just finished with the last one for today, but some studying wouldn’t hurt,” you replied. “I’ll see you at seven.”

“Okay, see you at seven. Bye bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Deacy.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You spent the rest of the afternoon studying. Or rather, you tried to study. The formulas and theories and diagrams mostly swirled across your page today, as much a spiral galaxy as the Milky Way. You speculated your lack of sleep and your lack of water could be the cause. Or maybe your lack of interaction with other humans. No Heather, no Freddie, no Roger, barely John. And no Brian. It was a wonder you’d not yet become a total hermit.

At six thirty you threw on your scarf and coat and went out the door, a bottle of wine in one hand.

At six thirty-two, you had boarded the tube and remembered that the scarf wasn’t actually your own. It was the rainbow scarf. You nestled your face into the wool and fibres tickled the tip of your nose, subtle scents of coffee and lilies shrouding you in their homely warmth.

You missed the owner of that scarf.

At seven precisely, you rang the Deacon-Tetzlaff doorbell.

The door swung open and John Deacon beamed at you. “Ah, Y/N! You’ve made it to my little party.”

“Careful, Deacy,” you admonished, “you’re beginning to sound an awful lot like those old film villains.”

“I think I’ll need more evidence than that,” Deacy kissed your cheek in greeting. You returned the gesture and went on inside, offering the wine bottle which he accepted cheerily. He was just closing the door when there came a shout from the street.

“Hold the door, will you, Deacy?”

Roger had arrived, dressed extravagantly in a fur coat and thin, orange-tinted sunglasses.

“Bit over the top for tea at mine, Roggie?” Deacy laughed.

You nodded to Roger’s sunglasses. “Surely those aren’t necessary.”

“They just complete the look. And honestly, you two are daft. Coat’s for warmth. It’s bloody well snowing.”

“Snowing?” you and Deacy repeated, leaning out the door.

Roger was right; little flakes fluttered down from the dappled grey sky, dusting his hair, and now yours as well.

“And so it is,” John said with another laugh. You held out your hand and let the glittery while specks fall into your palm. Despite your love for warmth, you liked snow. It was like catching stardust.

“Brimi would love that analogy,” Roger kissed your cheek as well, and you realised that you’d spoken aloud. You swallowed, settling your features back into a mask of nonchalance.

“He wouldn’t love that fur coat, though,” you tapped Roger’s sleeve.  

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” grumbled Roger.

“At the moment, he doesn’t love much at all, really,” Deacy remarked as he shut the door when you were all inside.

“Yes,” Roger echoed the sentiment, “can we discuss that? He’s a right bore.”

“More than usual?” John joked.

“God, yes. Thinking of throwing my bloody hi-hat at him next time.”

“He didn’t get the message from the drumsticks?”

“Apparently not. Went past his house this afternoon. He’s still moping.”

You tried not to think about the fact that you were the reason why Brian was moping. Meanwhile, John and Roger bantered on as you hung up your coat and— and the scarf.

You missed the majority of the conversation, having drifted into the abyss of your own thoughts once more. It was becoming a bad habit.

“Champagne? Oh, perfect!” John was saying. You’d reached the kitchen. “And it’s Moët et Chandon, too. Fred would be proud of you.”

“Funny, it was actually his idea,” Roger mused, closing his sunglasses around the collar of his shirt.

Deacy’s eyes widened as he pulled a tray from the oven. “Freddie better not have suggested anything else.”

Roger raised his eyebrows. “What would he have suggested, John?”

You wondered whether Roger was alluding to Freddie’s dampened temperament of the past many days, his tearfulness on the floor of a public bathroom, his obvious discomfort when you spoke of Mary.

Deacy waved an oven mitt and squinted through the steam that rose from the loaf of bread he had pulled from the oven.

“Deacy?” you said when the latter did not answer.

“Food’s ready!” he said brightly, and you all gathered around the kitchen table, Roger’s question forgotten.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You’d eaten your fill of John’s homemade risotto and bread, which was quite a large portion. Deacy was an excellent cook, in contrast with the likes of Freddie and Roger, neither of whom knew how to boil an egg.

“That was lovely, Deacy,” you said, positioning your knife and fork at twenty-past four.

“Agreed,” Roger nodded from beside you. “I’d ask you to give me the recipe,” he addressed Deacy, “but you know I can’t cook.”

“Oh, yes, we all know, Roger,” John sniggered.

“Freddie can’t cook either,” Roger pointed out petulantly, as though this made up for his own downfalls as a twenty-four-year-old who had moved away from home without learning certain basics.

“So, why are we here, Deacs?” you said.

“Mm,” said Roger. “You never call meetings, John. That’s always Freddie. And if it was about Queen, you would have actually invited the other two idiots over. Not Cinderella, here,” he elbowed you in the ribs.

“Ow!” you yelped. “Better Cinderella than an idiot, though.”

Roger narrowed his eyes at you. “Then dress the part. Otherwise I’ll have to take back the title.”

“Dress… in cinders and dirt, like you have?”

“This is an expensive shirt!”

“Hey!” Deacy interjected, but you and Roger only paid attention after he stood and tapped his knife to his wine glass.

You looked at Roger and grinned. Roger waggled his eyebrows; he had the same idea. You took a breath—

“Speech! Speech! Speech!” you cried together.

Deacy rolled his eyes. “How I put up with any of you is a wonder. Might as well not tell you, now.” He made to sit down.

“Well, I wanna hear it,” Roger pouted.

“Yeah, go on Deacy,” you patted his side of the table.

He tried not to smile, but he couldn’t. He glanced down at the tablecloth instead, adjusted the cutlery on his plate with two fingers, then inhaled slowly.

“You’re not dying, are you?” said Roger. You elbowed him to shut him up.

“Right then,” Deacy straightened up. “Y/N, Roger,” he toasted you each with his glass and you smiled back bemusedly. He paused for dramatic effect. Then, “Ronnie’s pregnant!”

Your mouth fell open.

“Oh, Deacy, you sly bastard,” Roger stood and clapped his friend on the back.

Deacy rolled his eyes again, but he was still beaming.

“John, that’s wonderful!” you said. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Deacy replied, pleased as punch. “Freddie and Brian found out by accident, and they were both busy tonight anyway, and I wanted to tell you before Veronica came back because she was going up to tell her parents,” he gushed, “and by then Freddie wouldn’t have been able to keep the surprise a surprise anymore.” Deacy practically shone, he was truly so happy. You couldn’t imagine more of a family man than John Deacon would be. He doted on Veronica and would dote upon his children even more.

Roger suddenly laughed, and you and Deacy looked at him. “Now I get it,” he said.

“Get what, Rog?”

“The champagne.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Thursday, you woke up with a violent headache. You had definitely overdone the champagne last night.

You rolled over to turn off your alarm clock, but instead rolled over the edge of a sofa.

And kicked Roger Taylor in the face.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” Roger groaned, pulling his fur coat up over his face. He had used it as a blanket for the night, rejecting Deacy’s offer of actual bedding. “If you wanted to sleep on the floor, you could just have said so, not kicked me awake to take my spot.”

“I was perfectly fine with the sofa, thanks,” you mumbled, rubbing your temples.

Roger sat up blearily. “God, what a headache,” he complained.

You nodded in agreement, your eyes screwed shut.

“Good morning!” John appeared in the doorway to the living room.

“Shhhhh,” Roger hummed.

“Not my fault you never learnt to be responsible,” Deacy shrugged. “Can I interest anyone in coffee?”

“May I order some silence?” you asked. “And a black coffee, please.”

“On my way,” Deacy left for the kitchen.

“Yes please, I’ll have a cup,” Roger called hoarsely after Deacy. “With one and three-sevenths sugars.”

“One black, one with one sugar?” John called back.

“One and three-sevenths sugars, please.”

“Three sugars, Rog?”

“No, one and three-sevenths.”

“Seven sugars?!”

“DEACY. One and three-sevenths!”

Laughter trickled through the kitchen door. “I’m just winding you up, Roger,” Deacy returned to the living room.

Roger sighed. “Well, thank god. I was beginning to rethink our friendship. You should know how I take my coffee.”

“We’re not married, Rog. And if you really felt so fondly about me, you should have told me so before I took my girlfriend to bed sometime last year.”

“Which was far too long ago.” Roger took his mug of coffee when Deacy offered it to him. “You take a long time to fall in love with, Deacs. Couldn’t possibly have beaten Ronnie to that chase.”

“Speaking of rethinking our friendship…” John muttered.

After finishing your coffee, you swore at the time the clock on Deacy’s mantlepiece displayed, made your apologies, and rushed off to your morning lecture.

And still Brian would not even look at you.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

At nine o’clock that night, you sat down in your armchair by the fireplace and made two phone calls.

First, you called your mum.

Then you called Brian, who had neglected to turn up for the evening’s derivatives-and-guitar session.

Three guesses as to who took your call and who did not.

You went to bed soon after that, but sleep would not draw you away until two hours past midnight.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

On Friday evening, two of your housemates decided to get shit-faced. As Heather and Roger had taken up residency in your room, you decided to join in the getting-shit-faced.

Joan and Paulie were waiting for you in the kitchen and cheered when you entered.

“Our favourite Y/N!” Paulie hugged you, and Joan grinned from where she sat atop the kitchen counter, already holding a poured drink.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked. But this was apparently the wrong question, because Paulie’s bright eyes turned suddenly tearful.

Joan hopped down from the counter and wrapped an arm around Paulie’s shoulder.

“Just some hypocrite called Paulie a slag,” Joan sipped her drink. “Now we’re celebrating the fact that little Pauline here packed her first punch, eh, sweetheart?”

Paulie blushed crimson, and it was clear that she was not on her first drink either.

She turned to you, “What’ve you come to celebrate, Y/N?”

You laughed bitterly. “Perhaps my wasted heart.”

“It’ll be a large drink, then?”

You nodded, and Paulie frowned sympathetically. Joan stuck you a glass, filling it to the brim with alcohol.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

It was midnight, but tonight, there was no magic in the hour.

You sat in the window seat and leaned your head against the wood of the window frame.

The heating was broken and it was raining ice outdoors. Sleet. Yes, that was what it was called. Your muddled brain struggled to keep up with your racing heart.

You’d left Joan and Paulie in the kitchen, because the thing about Joan and Paulie was that they were mad for each other, though they appeared to be the only two people in the world who were blind to the phenomenon. Tonight, however, they’d made some discoveries regarding that area of their lives. They’d stopped drinking early on and had begun snogging instead, so you’d taken a bottle of mulled wine with you to the window seat and now sat drinking alone in the darkness.

Or perhaps the darkness was what you were drinking, and what was drinking you.

From the cinema next door to the house, you could vaguely hear laughter, and the smell of popcorn lightly permeated the air that drifted in through your open window. It was no longer raining, and the sky with its spatter of stars was once more dimly visible above the silhouettes of London in the nighttime. The mulled wine was made of elderflower and blackberries, and it had heated your cheeks and filled your head with poetry and your eyes with a mist.

Swirling the wine in your glass, you imagined this was what it would be like to live on the cusp between tragedy and comedy in a Shakespearian work.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” slipped the words of Hamlet from your lips, “doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

You sighed and wished for the night to grow day as you stared out the window, searching for planets and solar systems you knew very well could not be found by the naked eye.

The rainbow scarf warmed your skin.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Saturday, as went without saying, was characterised by a fierce headache. Again.

And with Sunday came the Sunday Blues.

Well, really, you’d had the All-Week Blues, but Sunday did not care about this; you could now add the coming week of studying and assessments to your list of worries.

You listened to Freddie’s records and mindlessly memorised every word, every line. The music was your anchor, as it had always been. But it was now more so than ever.

You hated feeling worthless, but there was nothing you could do to not feel so.

Freddie and Roger and Deacy and Brian, they had each other. They wouldn’t have missed you, you told yourself, and it was only fuel to fire that Freddie did not trust you enough to tell you what it was that was going on with him. Then there was Heather, and Heather had Roger. And then Joan— Joan had Paulie. And Kate’s friends were Amélie and Jenny. No one was yours alone.

No one was yours at all.

And the fact that Brian May so actively avoided you just proved it all— who needs you?

Who needs you, it was in his lowered eyes.

Who needs you, it was in his silence.

Who needs you, it was in your head.

It was all only in your head. But sometimes, it was difficult to discern the world from your head.

So you picked up your guitar to prove your head, the world, wrong.

The strings stung your skin, and the memory of gentle smiles ghosted along your pulse where fingers had once applied their tender touch.

Your misery rose a wave and crashed as anger.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Two more weeks cycled past on bell-less bicycles; they passed utterly without consequence.

February had yielded March, and snow had melted to an incessant rain. But the rain fostered new leaves and flowers, and turned London to all the colours of the rainbow in the glory of Spring.

It would have been pleasant, to leave classes and hurry through warm, sprinkling rain and spots of sunshine, for but the claustrophobia that the gaze of a tall and blushing young man provided you with, in every waking hour of your life, whether in person or by way of imagination.

You waited for everyone else to enter the lecture hall, hanging back so that you would be the last.

When the final dawdler had passed into the hall, you approached Brian, who, of course, was holding the door.

“Bri,” you began gently, willing him to look at you. He didn’t. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already said that.” He radiated hostility, but you felt uplifted by the fact that he’d acknowledged you at all.

“I know. But I meant it. And I mean it.”

His eyes flicked over you. “We’re going to be late.”

He let go of the door.

You grasped the handle before the frame could smack you in the face. The edges of your patience were tampered with by his gaze; they had now become short and sharp.

If he was going to behave so pettily, then you would stoop to his level.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

It began as stealing Carmichael’s questions before Brian could answer them.

Then it was politely saying ‘good morning’ to everyone you encountered, except Brian.

Then you temporarily overcame your hatred for mornings in order to arrive at the lectures early, before Brian. You held the door for everyone. Until he arrived. Then you let go and went inside.

On the third morning that this occurred, Brian glared at you and you sneered back.

How quickly you had gone from friends to… to rivals was slightly disconcerting.

Freddie seemed to think so too. He invited you to rehearsal one evening, and though you clenched your jaw at having to be in the same room as Brian Harold “Petty” May, Freddie begged and pleaded and wore you down.

But when you arrived at one of Imperial College’s unused lecture halls that evening, Brian was the first person you saw, and at the sour twist of his lips, you huffed and stormed back out the door.

Freddie and John were calling after you, and you vaguely heard Roger ask Brian what the hell was wrong with him. Yet, you kept walking.

And then you ran.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

I’d had it with Brian. I really had.

So caught up in that bloody head of his, and for what? What had Y/N even said? What could have been so bad? She, like the rest of us, had naturally been worried by Brian’s disappearance, and he owed it to us, to her, to let us know that he had been at least physically all right.

I’d gotten it out of Deacs that Brian had lied to us about where he was the other week, and I’d been furious— how could he lie to us? Brian never lied.

I’d been good and well ready to knock him about a bit, that was what I’d been, and I had threatened to do just so, before Freddie materialised, as he often did, and pushed me back onto the drum stool before I could go anywhere. He demanded to know why I was so pissed off, and John explained.

Freddie frowned. “Yes, that is rather unlike him. And he’s utterly miffed, constantly. Looks about as cross as a cat caught in a rainstorm. Has done for fucking weeks.”

“Yes…” John folded his arms over his bass. “It’s got to stop. We’re not getting anything done.”

“We need to start working on the next album, and with him in this state, he won’t write anything of use,” said Freddie in agreement. “His muse is sadness, not anger.”

“That makes one of us,” I grumbled. “Gimme his guitar and I’ll write you a song, right here and now.”

“I would, darling,” Freddie sighed, “except that you’d probably destroy it, and you know he never lets it out of his sight anyway.”

“Hmph.”

Deacy ran a hand through his hair. “We have to intervene.”

“Mm,” said Freddie. “There’s only room in this band for one hysterical queen.”

“Any ideas?” Deacy asked. “Freddie?”

“Not a thing, dearie. Got enough troubles of my own, right now.”

“Rog?”

I was about to shake my head, no, when I remembered a trick I’d pulled on two of my mates back in school, years ago.

I smiled. “Oh yes. I’ve got a plan.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: I definitely wrote Joan and Paulie to resemble John Lennon and Paul McCartney, oops :)

taglist: @melting-obelisks​ @hgmercury39​  @stardust-killer-queen​  @topsecretdeacon

Masterpost / Part 6 / Part 8

[jamielea81]

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 6

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing and some fluff

A/N: This fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome.

Word Count: 4,625

Catch up with Chapter 5

**

Laying in the guestroom of Chris Evans’ rental is one of the few places you’d never pictured yourself being. The décor was very hotel chic which made sense since it was rented out by a private owner with lots of turnaround. Best to keep things neutral rather than themed. The bed was soft and the linens were plush so you could not complain.

It was such a weird feeling to be in his space but not be with him. He was essentially somewhere in the condo and you were here. In a room. Doing your own thing. Or resting, or whatever. He had insisted. Who were you to complain about more sleep? Wasn’t like you could work. Chris confiscated your well used script and laptop once he gave you a brief tour of the place.

“If you’re in such a hurry to get back to work, you have to get better. No sense in tiring yourself out and being sick longer. That’s just more missed days.”

Damn him and his common sense.

You put your phone on the dresser that was located across the room from you before snuggling back on the bed. Out of sight out of mind.

Apparently, you did manage to sleep as your eyes slowly opened to a dark room. It felt colder although you aren’t sure if the temperature in the condo has dropped due to the setting sun or this mystery virus sending a chill to your bones. Either way you’re cold and you realized your error of not packing a sweatshirt. The sweater you had on was warm, but it was thin and not as cozy as you would have liked.

Getting out of bed, you ran your hands through your hair to tame it as best as you could. You shrugged on your coat that you left on the bench in front of the bed and made your way out of the room.

The TV was on ESPN or the like in the distance as you heard a list of scores for some sport or another. If you were being honest, your brain wasn’t all the way there, so you really didn’t care.

“Oh, hey,” Chris said, sitting up from is half laid down position on the couch. His eyebrows and forehead scrunched low in confusion. “You going somewhere?”

“I’m just kind of cold. Should have packed a sweatshirt or two,” you said, taking a seat at the end of the couch, your hands going into your pockets.

Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, walking to the hallway to check the temperature. “It’s seventy-two in here. Want me to bump it up?” he calls out.

“Seventy-two? Would have guessed it’s sixty.” You shake your head even though he can’t actually see you. “No. No, it’s fine.”

He comes back in the room stopping in front of you. Chris’ hand reaches down, hesitant at first, until his palm touches your cheek. Damnit if your breath doesn’t catch in your throat. He removes it quickly, touching your forehead with the back side of the same hand.

“You’re a…,” he licked his lips, taking a deep breath in. “You’re a little warm,” he said withdrawing his hand. “You need a sweatshirt! I’ll grab you one,” he shouted, practically running away.

Chris Evans was going to be the death of you. The two of you are friends but you can’t help but let your mind wander to that space that says maybe there’s something more. But this is your whole life. This is your career. You’re finally making enough money that you can actually put some away. You no longer have to sling beers to make ends meet. It’s a real adult job and now that you’re in your early thirties, it feels like what you need to do. So, what you need to do is stay focused. Besides, this whole feeling could be the fever talking.

Chris is suddenly in front of you again, apparently you had zoned out and didn’t hear him come back in the room.

“Red or blue?” he asked, holding a sweatshirt of each color in his hands.

“Can I see something in green. Perhaps a hooded number.”

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he chuckled, throwing the blue one at you.

Tugging off your coat, you slip the sweatshirt over your head while you assume Chris is returning the red one to his room. It’s warm and cozy and smells a little like him. Not that you’ve smelt him. You’ve just picked up on his cologne when he’s near you. Yeah, not weird at all.

Tucking your hands inside the sleeves to keep warm, you lift your feet onto the couch in a half laying half sitting position. Chris stops in front of you and gives you a small smile.

“What?” you asked.

“Looks nice on you,” he replied innocently enough.

Think about your fake fiancé, Y/N.

“Well then, I may just keep it,” you shrugged.

He plopped himself down one cushion away from you on the couch, his body bouncing a bit when he landed. “Well, duh. You got your germs all over it.”

**

Clanging noises from the kitchen woke you. Apparently, you had fallen asleep again, you just weren’t sure how long you were asleep. You eased your body off the couch and padded your way into the kitchen.

“Hello sleepy head,” Chris greeted you before turning back to the stove. “I made you some soup. Had to call my ma to get the recipe.”

How is this guy single?

“You called your mother for a soup recipe?” you asked, reaching into the refrigerator for a bottle of water.

“Course! You’re sick. Soup always makes me feel bettah.”

“What did you tell your ma?” you asked in the best accent you could muster.

“I told my ma that my friend was sick and I wanted to make her soup,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Do you tell your mother everything?”

“I do. So, watch yourself Y/L/N,” he replied with eyebrows raised, giving the pot another stir. “Go relax. I’ll bring you a bowl in a few minutes.”  

“Thanks,” you mumbled, walking back into the living room and taking a seat on the couch.

**

Dinner actually ended up being quite good. Chris knew what he was doing in the kitchen, much to your surprise. You ended up eating two bowls of soup. Skipping lunch and sleeping all day apparently amped up your appetite. The warm broth helped warm your body, even if it was only temporary.

You tried your best to stay awake to visit with Chris. He was telling you stories about his family and from what you could remember, they sounded like a close-knit group. But this darn virus was keeping your energy level at zero. When you had dozed off on him twice, Chris ordered you to bed and you willingly went without complaint. You kept the sweatshirt on. Strictly for the warmth of course.

**

Knocking on the bedroom door woke you the next morning.

“Come in,” your groggy voice called. You were honestly too tired to get out of bed despite all the sleep you managed to get yesterday and overnight.

Chris walked in, sticking close to the door. “How are you feelin’?”

“I’ll live.”

He chuckled at your response.

“What?” you asked, voice coming out a little whiny.

“Just sound so cute,” he shrugged his shoulders. Your mouth dropped open. In shock? In protest? You weren’t sure. “You’re so stuffed up.”

He wasn’t wrong, but still. Cute? Pfft.

“Well, yeah. I’m sick.”

Damn. I really am stuffed up.

“Which is why I called you out for the day,” he said, walking over to the window and opening the blinds.

“Chris…”

“Y/N…”

“I can’t miss again. They’re going to fire me.” You were full on whining now.

“They’re not gonna fire you,” he said crossing his arms over his chest. “They don’t want sick people there especially since you interact with a lot of key people. I already called Monica and she’s fine. Just rest today. I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow if you do.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “But I want my script back. At least let me take pictures of my notes to send to Monica. You need all the help you can get,” you sassed.

“Smaht-ass. I do just fine on my own.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed. “Will you please get me my script? I promise to stay in bed while you’re gone.”

“Tuck that bottom lip away missy. I’ll get your damn script. You want breakfast too?”

You gave him a small smile. “I could eat.”

**

Chris came home in a grumpy mood and you had no idea how to cheer him up. If he was one of your friends back home, you’d be out for drinks, but you were sick. Not to mention, with the amount of cold medicine you were taking, mixing alcohol probably wasn’t a good idea.

After the initial door slam, you came out of your temporary room to see Chris sprawled out on the couch, leaving zero room for you. It was his house, what were you going to say? You took a seat on an upholstered chair across from him, crisscrossing your legs.

When he didn’t say anything after a few minutes, you started. “Bad day of filming?”

He let out a loud breath and ran his open palm down his face. “You could say that.”

“What happened?” you couldn’t help but ask. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Can we just watch some TV for a bit?”

“Of course,” you replied. You got up from the chair, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch and dropping it on the ground. You eased yourself on it, grinding your butt into it to get comfortable.

“What are you doing?” Chris sighed out.

“We’re watching TV. I’m just getting comfy.”

“Get up here!” he said, sitting up straighter with one bent leg still on the cushion.

You pulled yourself up and settled into the couch, your legs curling up sideways. Your foot touched his and he pulled back.

“Sorry!” you squeaked.

Chris muted the TV and faced you. “No, I’m sorry. Keanu said something to me today and it’s botherin’ me.”

“What did he say?” you asked softly.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Chris licked his lips. “He thinks we’re too close. Said I’m too close to you and it’s not right.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked.

You honestly were dumb founded. What a weird thing to say to someone. What did too close mean anyway? You and Chris were friends and co-workers. You were the script supervisor so you worked closely with him daily.

Chris groaned. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “It’s cause you’re engaged.”

“That’s ridiculous.” The fingers of your right hand automatically finding the engagement ring. “I’m allowed to have friends. You’re allowed to be friends with non-single women.”

“Damn right I am,” he said more confidently.

“We’re adults. We’d know if we were crossing lines. Clearly we aren’t.” Chris nodded in agreement. “What brought that on?”

“Monica asked where you were staying. I told her my place and since Keanu was right there, he heard and brought it up to me as we were wrapping for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed out. “If I thought this would have caused problems, I would have made Monica deal with my sick ass.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about his opinion. It just bothers me that he thinks he has a right to interject.”

“Still…I don’t want to cause problems. Maybe I should just head back to the hotel.” You stood up and started to walk to your room. Chris jumped to his feet and was quickly right behind you.

“No. No. No. We aren’t doing that. There’s nothing wrong with you staying here,” he said to the back of your head.

You picked up your bag and put it on the bed. “Chris, it’s probably for the best. I was going back to my room tomorrow anyway.”

You grabbed the change of clothes you stored in the dresser bringing them over to the bed. Chris placed his hand over yours, stopping you from folding up the shirt.

“Just stay. Going is only going to prove his point.”

He was right. Leaving is pretty much admitting you staying there is wrong.

You grabbed on to his hand that was pressing down on yours and turned to face him. “Okay.”

He gave you a gentle smile. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

You nodded your head and followed him back out into the living room.

**

Back on set the next few days, Monica avoided you as much as she could. She’d text you from ten feet away to ask a question, despite sharing a room with her at night. It was insane, but if it made her feel better, you’d put up with it. You were feeling 80% better. It was just that stuffy nose that didn’t want to leave your body.

Being around Keanu felt odd all of a sudden. You tried to act as you normally would, sharing a small joke or an anecdote about something you read, but it was hard to feel at ease. Now that you knew he was watching you, you didn’t know how to act around Chris. So, you did what you probably shouldn’t do. You avoided him. Of course, you couldn’t avoid him completely since you were working with him, but when he would find you on set, you brushed him off.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, catching you while on break.

“Better,” you answered simply enough.

“Good,” he nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Yep.”

This wasn’t going to work. The last thing you needed was the studio catching wind that something funny was going on. But Chris was your friend. Becoming one of your good friends over the last month. There needed to be a middle ground.

A week later you were feeling pretty damn guilty for keeping any conversations with Chris on the professional side. If he found you to chat, you made sure someone else was with you. Often pulling Monica or David into the conversation whether they liked it or not.

Y/N: Can we talk?

Chris: Now you want to talk? Should we text Monica to see if she wants to join us?

Yeah, you deserved that.

Y/N: I’ll bring cookies.

Chris: Where? And only because you’re bringing cookies. None of that sugar cookie crap either.

You decided on the coffee shop you been frequenting since coming to town, making a quick stop at a bakery along the way to pick up a couple of chocolate chip cookies for Chris. You picked out a two-seater table away from a group of college students that seemed to be studying.

Winter made it easier for Chris to blend in, but it was never hard for you to spot him. Not with that smile that always seemed to be on display when he saw you. Dark gray wool coat with the collar popped up, red scarf wrapped around his neck twice, and black shades on his face, he thought he was in disguise. You waved him over as soon as he walked through the door. He quirked his mouth at you, knowing he was easily spied. He held up his finger indicating he was going to grab a drink. You placed the package of cookies in front of the open seat so that they were the first thing he would see.

Chris walked over a few minutes later, removing the coat but keeping the scarf in place.

“Your cookies, sir.”

“I accept your bribery. For now.”

“Thank you. It’s my, “I’m sorry I’ve been an ass” apology,” you replied.

Chris gave you a frown, bringing his to go cup to his lips and taking a hesitant sip.

“I wouldn’t say ass, but…” You took a sip of your own beverage, waiting for him to continue. “Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong because if I’m being honest, I miss my friend.”

Now you really did feel like an ass. The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like he did anything wrong.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…Keanu’s comment really got to me. This is my first film with Stone Lite and if this goes well, my contract gets extended. If Keanu thinks we’re being unprofessional, who knows who else thinks that,” you replied, running your hand through your hair.

Chris nodded his head, a sullen look on his face. “I honestly don’t think they’re going to drop your contract because you and I are close friends.”

You debated about telling him your secret. He probably didn’t know about the studio’s unofficial hiring practices. But would he keep it to himself or would you find yourself without a job? You weren’t sure if this lie was something that was easily forgivable. It was starting to feel like not just a simple lie anymore. You shook your head out of your thoughts and attempted a smile.

“You probably right. I’m just being paranoid,” you said, deciding to keep your secret to yourself. “But maybe we keep our hangouts a little more private?”

Chris chuckled. “That sounds worse!”

You gasped but then chuckled, nodding your head in agreement. “Okay. Okay,” you said between laughs. “Not private, but maybe we dial down our friendship when we’re working. I mean obviously Keanu has a problem with it.”

“I don’t think we are doing anything wrong, but for your sake, I’ll keep our hangouts to myself. Does that work?” he asked, picking up his cup and taking a sip.

You gave him a genuine smile and nodded your head. “Thanks, Chris.

**

Chris and you did dial back a bit on the joking and hanging out on set. Most of your interactions were with other people around. It seemed to do the trick as Keanu and Chris seemed to ease back into their friendly banter and not another word was spoken over the next two weeks.

The small touches that the two of you generally exchanged were now absent and a part of you was missing it. Chris would laugh at something you would say and rest his hand on your forearm or shoulder. Now he’d shove his hand in his pocket or behind his back. When you’d discuss the script with him between takes, his hand rested on the small of your back. Now he’d cross his arms over his chest and leaned in. It was different, but respectful.

Chris no longer came to your cubical unless it were to discuss a scene that would be shot the next day. You missed your impromptu lunches spent at your desk. When the two of you did hangout, it was spent at coffee shops further away from the studio and your hotel. Uber and Lyft became your go to mode of transportation. Since Keanu and Chris lived in the same building for this film, you didn’t go back to Chris’ place much to your disappointment. Sometimes just watching a movie on a comfy couch was a lot better than doing so on your cheap hotel bed alone.

**

Filming was breaking for three nights and most of the crew were going home for the weekend. You were a tad bit excited to have the room all to yourself. You planned to do some sight seeing with your free time. Gastown, Chinatown, and Capilano Suspension Bridge Park despite it being winter were on your list.

Filming wrapped early in the afternoon and those not leaving until the next morning decided going out for dinner was something that should be done as a large group. You reluctantly let Monica drag you with her and two others in a Lyft headed across town to a restaurant that also served as a video game arcade. Your mind instantly went to an arcade with kids running around the space with sticky fingers, but you were pleasantly surprised to see it was an adult’s only atmosphere. Rather than ticket dispensing nonsense games, there were classic arcade machines such as Pac-Man, Ms. Pac-Man, Mortal Combat, and Super Mario Bros.

You weren’t drinking and no amount of peer pressure was going to make you budge. David bought you a drink and you quickly offered it to Lydia, one of the stylists. You grabbed a non-alcoholic drink called raspberry fizz from the bar. It looked like a fancy drink without the regret. The last thing you needed to do was drunkenly talk about your sex life again.

Chris mentioned he was coming tonight as his flight wasn’t until seven the next morning, but you hadn’t spotted him yet. Keanu was staying in town over the short break; his girlfriend Alexandra had already arrived in town for a visit. He had mentioned they wouldn’t be joining the group for dinner, but they would be by for a drink later.

Everyone sat down to order, deciding that game playing could wait until after dinner. Twenty minutes in to appetizers and conversation, Chris walked in with Maggie. They sat together at the far end of the table from you, where the only available seats were located. They looked cozy sitting close together, sharing whispers, and laughs. A small pang of jealous hit your heart. It was unexpected and for a moment you regretted not having an actual drink. He hadn’t mentioned anything between the two of them to you, but you knew of her crush on him. Besides, the two of you never really discussed your love lives besides the initial questions about Travis when you and Chris first started to get to know each other. Chris saw you starring in his direction and gave you a wave. You gave him a small smile and nodded your head before turning away. Next to you, Lydia’s in a conversation with Tim, one of the other actors, and you do your best to join in.

Your co-workers are drunk and with Chris wrapped up conversation with others, not to mention Maggie by his side most of the night, you’re ready to go back to the hotel. You bring up the Uber app on your phone and request a car. You look for David and find him in an intense game of air hockey. After he scores a point, you pull him into a side hug to say goodnight.

“You taking off already? I owe you another drink.”

“Give it to Monica. I’m good for the night. Say hi to the wife for me,” you replied as you backed away.

“Will do! See you next week,” David called a little too loudly. You were sure it was because the large number of beers he had already consumed.  

You found your coat still hanging from the back of your chair at the table. You slipped it on and waved goodbye to Monica who only lifted her glass to you. You’re half way through the door when someone grasped your mitten covered wrist. Turning around, you were met with the blue eyes of Chris.

“Where are you goin’? Don’t talk to me all night and now you’re sneaking off?”

You allow him to pull you back into the warmth of the restaurant, checking your phone for the car with your free hand. Surprisingly Maggie isn’t next to him. You’re pretty sure it’s the first time she hasn’t been all night.

“I’m not sneakin’ off. You were busy,” you shrug a shoulder.

Chris stops pulling you once you reach your groups table, sitting down and starring up at you as you stand.

“Take a seat. Please.” You sigh but do as he asked. “I wasn’t busy. Always have time for you. Besides, I wanted to say goodbye since I won’t see you for a few days.”

“You looked pretty busy with Maggie tonight. Didn’t realize you guys were so close.” You couldn’t help yourself. You sounded pretty damn jealous and you would be over analyzing your words all night.

Chris scrunches up his whole face and blinks slowly once and then again. “With Maggie? She’s just a friend. Barely a friend. She needed a ride.”

“Well, Maggie thinks you’re hot. So…” You weren’t even drinking tonight so you had no excuse for your loose lips.

“That’s nice. But she’s a kid,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Not interested.”

“Okay then!” you replied a little too loudly. You take a peek at your phone and see that your car is here. You stand up quickly and hug him while he’s still seated. “My car is here. Gotta go!” Before he can even hug you back, your feet are moving. “Have a good few days back home!”

Chris texted as soon as you got into the car.

Chris: Well, goodbye to you too.

Chris: 😢😡

Y/N: I’m sorry! My Uber was here.

Chris: Trust me, there’s nothing going on with Maggie.

Y/N: It’s not my business. I’m sorry I brought it up.

Y/N: Safe travels!

Chris: Quit being a weirdo

Y/N: It’s all I know

Chris: That’s true. I don’t know what I was thinking.

Chris: Text me when you get back to your room.

Y/N: I will

**

The three days you had off were over far too quickly, although you did manage to hit the three tourist spots on your list. You also found a great Chinese restaurant that you wanted to eat at again a couple of more times before you wrapped in three weeks.

This week you were on night shoots again. The studio had rented out a book store and restaurant in a smaller town outside of Vancouver. Even though these were mainly interior scenes, both businesses needed to be closed in order to film.

Chris had wanted to grab coffee earlier in the day, but you and Monica had to be at the studio to meet with Hugh and his assistant to go over the two scenes filming tonight. Chris had been pretty quiet during his time off; you were pretty sure he was feeling guilty for his lack contact.

Monica and you had arrived early at the location to get situated and to match up the script with the interior of the restaurant. You were helping with wrangling the ten or so extras when Chris arrived already dressed for his scene.

“Welcome back to Canada,” you said walking up to him, Chris giving you a big grin. “Did you have a nice trip back home?”

“Always a good time when I’m home sweetheart. How about you?”

“Yep. Checked out Gastown and a couple of other places. It was nice to explore.”

“How’d Travis like it? First time here for him, right?” Chris asked.

You gave him a questioning look. “Travis wasn’t here.”

His eyebrows raised high on his head. “He wasn’t here? I thought that’s why you weren’t going home because he was comin’ here.”

“No, ah, he was working,” you quickly said.

Fuck! Why hadn’t I thought of that. Oh yeah, because you don’t actually have a freaking fiancé!

“He never visited you on set in LA, hasn’t visited here, you didn’t go home. Don’t you miss him?”

“Of course, I do, Chris,” you sighed. “It’s just hard when we’re both working. But, uh, he’s coming to visit for a couple of days next week.”

Why did I say that?!

Chris slapped a hand down on your shoulder. “That’s great! Look forward to meeting him.”

You gave him a smile and pointed back to the group of extras with your thumb before turning away from him. Grabbing your phone out of your back pocket, you quickly typed out a text to Travis as you walked away.

Y/N: I need a favor.

Chapter 7

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[bgn846]

The Fight

Unable to keep his footing, Ignis could only brace for the impact when the alpha charged at him. It hurt, but he wasn’t down for the count yet. Swinging his legs out briskly sent the alpha down on his back with a thud. The guy barely twitched before he was back up on his feet.  He was persistent, Ignis could give him that.

Groaning at what had been a nice calming break fifteen minutes before, Ignis vaulted himself back up to standing and summoned his pole arm bringing it down on the man’s shoulder. Maybe the asshole would stay down now. No such luck, apparently getting hit with a metal pole merely energized the man. He screamed out some sort of feral battle cry and rushed forward once more.

This had to stop, Ignis was getting tired. His mates were still busy guarding Noct so Ignis was on his own for this fight. The last thing he’d expected was to get attacked by some raging alpha idiot. He’d simply slipped out the back door to get some fresh air. There had been too many alpha’s in a small space, he needed to get away.

They were at a new restaurant for shiva’s sake. A normal eatery in the fancy part of Insomnia that happened to have been constructed entirely with recycled materials, hence, Noct’s visit for the ribbon cutting.  All of that had gone according to plan; it was the celebratory party afterwards that had given Ignis trouble.  All the overbearing scents and raucous laughter were too much. Not to mention the amount of alcohol present.  Why was this party so rowdy?

The excessive drinking was also to blame for Ignis’ current predicament. The one drunk alpha who felt he was entitled to a piece of omega never went well. Ignis could defend himself, he wasn’t without skills. This alpha, however, needed to go away.  Not wanting to outright maim the man Ignis had gone a little easy, now, though as the alpha charged once again, Ignis rethought this tactic. He was already tired and this wasn’t helping.

Raising his weapon Ignis prepared to strike the alpha again. A flash of blue light erupted out of his peripheral causing him to flinch. A second later Noct appeared in front of him and blocked the hit from the larger alpha. The prince moved gracefully and quickly gained the upper hand. Warping from one side to the other helped confuse the other alpha and soon enough Noct had landed several kicks to the man’s abdomen.

Normally Ignis wouldn’t just stand idle when Noct was in danger, but from where he stood panting for breath it seemed as though Noct was doing fine.  He wasn’t left watching alone for long, Prompto appeared by his side a moment later, gun drawn, but pointed downward. Quickly looking back to the fight, Ignis was able to witness the final blow. Noct summoned his father’s sword, the one he’d been gifted on his twenty first birthday, and spun through the air with the precision years of training will offer.

Noct easily connected the pommel with the man’s temple; the alpha crumpled instantly and fell to the ground.  It was only after the assailant stayed down, unmoving, did Ignis dismiss his own weapon. Backing up slightly caused him to bump into Gladio. Ignis hadn’t even been aware his mate was so close. Opting to lean back Ignis let Gladio wrap his arms around his waist.

Ignis caught a glimpse of how enraged Noct was when he turned and stalked over. His magenta colored eye’s were trained on his own.  “Did he hurt you?” Noct seethed as he came to a halt in front of Ignis.

“Nothing that won’t heal in a few days,” Ignis managed in between breaths.

“Who is he?” Noct demanded.

“I believe he’s the driver for one of the developers.”

“He’s getting arrested and charged with assault,” Noct angrily added as he took a deep breath. “Why were you out here?” he asked with a tone that meant he was serious.

“I needed some fresh air, I’m sorry highness, there were too many alp--.”

Noct’s eyes widened and he quickly dropped his hardened expression, “Shit, sorry I’m not mad I just wanted to know all the details. Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Before he was able to respond, the door to the building behind them opened, and several other people spilled out into the rear parking lot area. This of course was followed by even more people coming out to investigate. Needless to say, the night ended up dragging on as they waited for things to be dealt with properly. The police came, interviews were given, security footage was reviewed and the man was arrested.  

Turns out he was a known offender that liked having his way with omegas. This time however, he picked on the wrong omega. The adrenaline rush had long since worn off as they all made their way to the limo to go home. Ignis could honestly say he was exhausted. Thankfully, his pack hadn’t left his side since the incident. For once they had a driver as well, which allowed Ignis to nestle in the backseat with Noct and Prompto on either side. Gladio seemed to know he wouldn’t fit and he took the seat opposite and simply watched.  His warm smile was enough to appease Ignis until he could hug his alpha again.

The drive was a blur as they headed back home, Ignis was still amped to sleep so he instead watched the scenery wiz by. They’d be back and out of the public eye soon enough. The only thing left to figure out was what to do when they arrived. A hot shower sounded divine but Ignis wasn’t so sure his mates would let him go it alone. That was the only fault at being the lone omega in the pack, they doted on him and even more so when things like this happened.

Not that Ignis was upset at their clingy behavior, he secretly loved it. However, his energy level was reaching its limits and he needed to rest. It seemed his exhaustion was more obvious than he’d realized when Noct and Prompto both refused to let him go on the walk up to the suite.

“I’m alright,” he tried feebly as they manhandled him into the elevator.

“Don’t even try, we’re not letting go,” Noct pouted as he smashed the button for their floor.

Sighing fondly Ignis let himself be pulled around.  It wasn’t until they’d reached the front door did Ignis realize what Gladio had been doing. His normally very cuddly alpha was working, his eyes scanning every hallway and dark corner. Figures, he was still on guard, Ignis had to work hard not to keen lovingly out loud at the gesture. Ignis knew that once they were safely inside Gladio would loosen up, but for now it was making his inner omega swoon mightily. The moment the door was closed and locked behind them everything changed. Prompto tackled him for a bone crushing hug and wouldn’t let go.

“Ow,” Ignis huffed softly.

“Shit, sorry!” Prompto exclaimed

“Come on, we are all jumping in the shower and then it’s out to the hot tub on the deck,” Gladio proclaimed as he herded them down the hallway and towards the master bathroom.

“The hot tub?! At this hour, surely you’re joking,” Ignis blurted as he was dragged along.

“Why the hell not, we all want to cuddle you and the hot water will help loosen your muscles up.” Gladio offered.

“It’s nearly three am and I’m barely keeping my eyes open.”

“Prompto can you go turn the jets on and get the cover off?” Gladio instructed ignoring his worries. “Iggy, babe, you are allowed to fall asleep in the hot tub ya know that right?”

“Yes, yes, but I’ll get all pruny.”

“Gladio’s right it’ll help you relax, after that fight especially,” Noct added as he stepped forward to help Gladio undress him.  “Besides we can’t all fit in the bath together, the hot tub will be better.”

Ignis had no time to form an argument in favor of sleeping instead. He was whisked away to the shower where all three of his mates, Prompto had returned from his mission by this time, miraculously fit into the shower stall together. The hot water felt so nice and Ignis couldn’t help but pull the nearest body close to lean on.  

“Careful, you’re gonna make me fall over,” Noct whined as he reached out to steady himself.

Humming in response Ignis simply enjoyed the warmth and let Prompto and Gladio wash away the dirt.  He’d all but forgotten that his pale skin was starting to show bruising from the fight, when Noct sighed mournfully.

“I wish we’d been there to help you fight that asshole,” the prince lamented.

“Though based off the footage I saw you were really giving it to him,” Prompto added with a hint of awe. “Like you hit him with a pole arm and he didn’t stop. Plus you kicked him a ton and he still didn’t slow down.”

“He was the true definition of aggressive, I’ll give you that,” Ignis muttered from where he had his nose buried in Noct’s neck.

“Oh but guys, guess what, guess what,” Prompto enthused suddenly, distracting them from talking about the awful alpha.

“Oh no, I know that tone, you’ve done something,” Gladio sighed as he reached out and ruffled Prompto’s wet hair.

“I drew the curtains on the patio so we could jump in naked!” the blond added excitedly.

Noct jumped up a little and Ignis could tell he was smiling. “Nice one buddy!”

“So we ready?” Gladio asked as he leaned over to shut the water off. “We’ve got an omega to cuddle.”

Despite having his eyes closed Ignis rolled them for good measure. Reluctantly pulling away from his prince Ignis barely had time to react when Gladio swept him up off his feet and headed out of the bathroom. “Gladio! You’re still wet!”

“Yeah and what’s the point of drying off when we’ll be jumping in the hot tub?”

“The floor is getting dripped on!” Ignis whined pitifully. Though truthfully it didn’t matter, the floors were all tile and they were all clean.  His only worry was Gladio slipping but he’d already made it out onto the patio and was climbing up over the edge and into the blissfully hot water. Six, Ignis needed this.  

“Hey big guy you gonna share?” Prompto asked as he joined them and waded over to sit next to their alpha.

“I think we should all get turns holding Iggy,” Noct supplied as he climbed in and immediately ducked his head under the water. Coming up a second later he floated closer and wedged himself in between Gladio’s legs and wrapped his arms around Ignis’ waist.  

It didn’t take long and Ignis could feel himself drifting off. Gladio was still cradling him like a baby which didn’t help matters. He always fell asleep when Gladio held him. His remaining waking moments kept occurring when he’d get passed off to one of his mates. First he awoke to Noct hugging him and rubbing all over his scent gland. Unable to keep from giggling, as it tickled, Ignis turned his head and went back to relaxing.

He somehow missed getting out of the hot tub, and his next waking moment was Prompto pulling him close in their stupidly large bed.  Returning the gesture, Ignis hugged his beta tightly. He felt warm and his mind was finally at ease over the evenings events. The hot tub had done the trick, releasing all the tension from his aching muscles.

“Sleep, you’re safe,” Gladio whispered from nearby as the bed dipped.  Soon a strong arm was wrapped around his midsection.

“Wh’s Noct?” Ignis managed as he tried to see in the dark.

“M’here,” came the muffled reply.

Ignis realized that both of his alphas were on the outside edge of the bed. Gladio was behind him and Noct was spooning Prompto. Smiling at the protective behavior Ignis let his mind shut down. Sleep claimed him almost immediately after that. There was nothing left to fret about, he was safe.  

[izzy-b-hands]

Eventuality Eventually

My first bit of Smile fic! Roger has bought a new van for himself/for the band! And it is...something. But of course, this is less about the van and more about the three goof balls that plan to ride around in it. Set in a loose-ish AU? If only because I’m doing real general research rn, so I might fumble things about the timeline as I go, if I write more after this one (which I would like to do!) Some Brian/Roger here as well, which I didn’t actually intend, but then I got going and suddenly here it is lol. 

A quick note too that Freddie is mentioned in this, but only in that this part of the timeline he was friends with them, and at this point was still using his old last name of Bulsara; just noting it so seeing that name isn’t a surprise!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“But does it run?” 

Roger looked horribly offended, his arms falling from their stretched out motion of presentation. “Of course it fucking runs! Wouldn’t have bought it, if it didn’t.” 

“I know,” Tim said. “It’s just that you like projects-” 

Roger shot him a dangerous look.

“And that’s a good thing! It shows preservation, and a willingness to put in hard work,” Tim continued. “We don’t want to be stranded again, is the thing.” 

“Was embarrassing, having your mum come pick us up,” Brian added. “She was so upset...” 

“It was awfully late,” Tim noted. “Can’t blame her; we did wake her up.” 

Roger frowned. “So you hate this van, is what you’re saying?” 

“We didn’t say that,” Brian said, but he didn’t unfold his arms or take a step closer towards the simultaneously rusting and rust-colored vehicle. 

“Safety comes to mind,” Tim said, trying to be diplomatic. “But I’m sure it’s better on the inside, isn’t it?” 

Roger smiled at that, and yanked open the side door of the van. It let out a shrill shriek of metal on metal, but Tim motioned for Brian to not say a word about it. 

“See?” Roger crouched inside and dropped into the passenger seat, pointing for them to take the two rows of seats behind the passenger and driver section. “Much better on the inside. You could sleep comfortably in this, if you wanted!” 

“There is a spring that nearly went up my ass,” Brian hissed to Tim, leaning awkwardly forward on his seat. 

“Nice material,” Tim said, running a hand over the worn and cracked leather. “Vintage!” 

Roger’s eyes were starry with happiness. “Exactly! That’s what I thought when I saw it. And good condition, considering the price.” 

“How much did you pay for this?” Brian asked. 

“It was a steal,” Roger replied with a grin as he leaned back in his seat, tossing his feet up on the dashboard, watching them with the cracked rearview mirror. 

“That’s not a number,” Brian said. “How much, in an amount with numbers, did you pay for this?” 

Roger looked wounded again, and internally, Tim sighed. They could go from being the best of friends to stabbing at each other in a heartbeat, these two. It made him think of fencers: neither stabbed to kill, but occasionally they landed a hit that bruised and then looked to him as some sort of ref, as if he should have somehow ripped the saber from the other’s hand before the blow could land. 

“I don’t know if it matters much, if Roger isn’t asking for us to give him any towards it,” Tim said. “Are you, Rog?” 

Roger shook his head. “Just toss me money for upkeep and fuel every now and again, or buy me dinner.” 

“Like your girlfriends then,” Brian snorted, and Tim reached an arm back to slap at his leg. 

“Yeah, but you don’t get what they get out of it,” Roger said as he stuck his tongue out at the mirror, his reflection sending it to Brian in the backseat. 

“A warm sweaty number of nights in the back of a rusty van?” Brian mused sarcastically. “Isn’t that basically what we have every time we drive back from a show?” 

“Those are notably less...” Roger paused. “Well. They’re fun, but not the type of fun-” 

“I think we get the picture,” Tim interrupted quickly.

“Oh, but I could paint a better one,” Roger grinned mischievously. “C’mon Tim. Let me use my brush and make that one blush.” 

But Brian was already blushing, and looking more frustrated by the minute. 

If he didn’t do something, the sabers would be tossed away, and they’d be fighting with fists, at least metaphorically. 

“Why don’t we finish the tour of the van, and then go for lunch?” Tim offered. “My treat?” 

It was a blessing that, as low on money as they could be on occasion, they were often food-motivated creatures. Tim included himself in that, and the promise of food, even if he had to buy it for himself, was what kept him going now. 

“Not much more to see,” Roger sighed, clearly still nursing some hurt. “There’s enough space back there for our gear, behind the coat rack they’ve apparently included on the second row of seats-” 

“Hey!” Brian shouted. “You ought to talk, you...” 

He fumbled, blushing somehow redder still, and Tim felt for him. It was obvious to him that both Brian and Roger were stumbling around feelings for each other, but neither of them made it easy. Truthfully, he was hoping they’d just finally confess to each other about it, or fuck, or both. 

He did have a bet riding with Freddie Bulsara on the fucking though, and a fiver to win if he was right and they did it within the next six months. 

Brian was still stuck as Tim tumbled out from his thoughts, and he gave him a gentle poke to the knee. 

“Are you going to say something rude to him, or not?” Tim asked. “Just wondering if we can go get lunch now, or if we ought to wait you out.” 

Brian gave him a look, then sighed. “No. I’ll make up for it later. Let’s go.” 

“That’s so sweet of you,” Roger laughed as he moved to the driver’s seat, keys jingling as he forced them out of his tight trouser pocket. “You’ll really give it to me later, huh? Make me cry?” 

Tim nearly blushed himself. Surely, Roger could hear himself, and knew how he sounded...

But then, he almost definitely did know, and that had to be supplying the shit-eating smile Roger was wearing as he glanced at them in the rearview mirror again. 

“I don’t ever want to make you cry,” Brian said, but Tim could not for the life of him tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine or if this was Brian trying to flirt. 

“Yet you did drop that amp on my foot,” Roger said as he started the van, that made an odd belching sound as it woke up. “And then I did cry and swear for two minutes.” 

“That was an accident,” Brian said. “Your foot was fine.” 

“You never did say sorry.” 

“I did so!” Brian protested, and tapped Tim on the shoulder. “You heard me; I did!” 

“You did, but you did say it while blaming him for your dropping your end of it,” Tim said. 

“He did make me drop it!” 

“I did not!” Roger shouted back, eyes half on the road and half glaring at Brian in the rearview mirror. 

Before Tim could beg Roger to keep his gaze more on the road, Roger hit the brakes hard enough to toss him out of his seat as he pulled them to a barely big enough street parking space. 

“Get out of my van!” 

“This is a band vehicle; I don’t have to go anywhere!” Brian’s usually soft voice was harsh now, and he was yelling more in Tim’s ear than anything else as Tim scrabbled off the floor and back onto his seat. 

“I’ll make you get out!” 

“Good, make me!” 

“I will!” 

“I’d like to see you fucking-” 

“Will the two of you kiss, or fuck, or whatever you need to do to make this stop?!” Tim shouted, and they fell silent.

He had planned to say that in his head, and it dawned on him after another beat of silence that he had said it aloud instead. 

They were both blushing, bright red, eyes wide. 

Roger swallowed hard. “That obvious, is it?” 

“You’re both so bad at hiding it,” Tim said weakly. “I mean that kindly, as much as I can.” 

Brian nodded. “Well?” 

“Well what?” Roger asked softly.

“Are you going to make me get out of the van?” 

Roger gave Tim a nervous glance, then slipped out of the driver’s seat and moved past him to Brian. 

He stayed long enough to see the kiss, then slipped out of the van quietly as Brian pulled Roger down with him onto the seat. It was a blessing that the back of the van didn’t have windows except for one at the far back door. 

He pulled the keys from the ignition and pocketed them before he left, his destination the nearest shop that had food that would qualify as lunch and be fairly cheap. 

With one detour, to the nearest phone box. 

“Bulsara? Yeah, just wanted to give you an update. A kiss, and they might be fucking in the back of our new van. If you’d like to come down and have lunch with us, you could give me that fiver right away...” 

[jjmichie]

Jeff and Stone Return From NYC

Fic:  sequel to Jeff and Eddie Have a Beer

Disclaimer:  Fiction, not true. 

The sounds of a guitar and a bass and a voice reverberated through the small room, causing a stray newspaper to ripple across the floor and the concrete walls to rattle ominously, unable to escape the pounding intensity that assaulted them.  But as the final notes of the song were fading, the newspaper and the concrete began to blur and the walls began to waver and the black floor seemed to rise then recede and rise then recede again as if breathing on its own. 

Stone quickly fumbled to pull his guitar over his head and set it down in its stand.  The guitar and the stand were blurry now too, mimicking the undulating walls and the newspaper, oddly becoming two guitars, then three, then two again while blackness began to rim his vision and the walls closed in, forming a flickering tunnel and a hazy grayness that seemed to fill the air around him. 

What . . . was the last thing he remembered thinking. 

“Nice!  Way to give that one a rockstar finish,” Jeff laughed as he looked up in time to see his friend collapsing on the floor next to his guitar stand.  Stone had fallen to his knees first as his legs buckled underneath him,  and then rolled back, as if in slow motion, his arms outstretched, his head eventually hitting the floor, with his hair fanning out around him like a halo.  

Eddie laughed in surprise too.  

But their laughter quickly dissolved into silence as they realized the pile that had previously been their guitar player was now completely still.  Jeff and Eddie looked at the pile, then at each other, then back at the pile, their brows knotted in confusion.  

“Stone?”  Jeff asked, a bad feeling suddenly coming over him. He took a step forward.  

Eddie took a step forward too.  

“Stone!”  Jeff called louder.  Still nothing.  The pile didn’t move.  “Oh fuck!”  Jeff darted over to him, with Eddie close behind.  

They both knelt down beside Stone.  The first aid training Eddie had once received in a former life back in the surfer days suddenly kicked in, and he heard himself automatically asking:  “has this happened before?  does he have any medical conditions that you are aware of?”  

“N-No,” Jeff sputtered.  

Eddie leaned in close to Stone, pressing two fingers into his neck, and positioning his cheek next to Stone’s nose and mouth.  Breathing.  Steady breathing.  Steady pulse.  

“Oh fuck fuck fuck, why doesn’t he wake up??”  Jeff demanded, not bothering to hide the panic in his voice.  “Stone!!!”  

“Shh, it’s ok,” Eddie looked up at Jeff.  “I think he just fainted.  He’s breathing fine, his pulse is normal.”  Eddie gave Stone’s cheek a gentle slap.  “Stone?”  he prodded, and grabbed one of the hapless newspapers off the floor and began fanning him.  

“Mmmm,” Stone finally moaned and turned his head towards the comforting breeze that Eddie was creating. 

Jeff breathed out slowly, and put a hand over his heart.  

“Oh shit, what happened?”  Stone whispered, opening his eyes, surprised by the frightened expressions that hovered over him. 

“You blacked out, dude,” Jeff answered, touching Stone’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Stone sat up abruptly, pushing Jeff’s hand away, pushing the newspaper away, embarrassed by the attention. But immediately a wave of something something something filled his head and his stomach again and made the room wobble again as the grayness threatened to return.  “Or . . . maybe not,” he began to lie back down.  

Jeff had maneuvered himself so that he was behind Stone, and caught him as he fell, letting Stone’s head rest on his shoulder.   He put his arms around him.  

They were all quiet for a few moments, letting Stone rest, waiting cautiously for him recover as he leaned against Jeff.  

“I can hear your heart,” Stone finally observed with smirk, his eyes still closed.  “Jeez, is it always that fast?”  

Jeff didn’t reply.  Instead, he closed his eyes too and breathed in deeply, through his nose, then out through his mouth. 

Eddie watched them.  He unconsciously moved back, just slightly, away from them, feeling a sudden sensation that he was intruding.  

“Uhhhh,” Stone suddenly grimaced and sat up very straight.  His face turned pale.  “I’m going to puke,” he whispered to Jeff.  

Jeff immediately rose to a standing position using nothing but his thigh muscles, pulling Stone up with him in the process.  

Eddie backed away further, clearing the path between his bandmates and the bathroom.  

“I wonder if it’s something you ate in New York,” Eddie heard Jeff speculate, over the retching coughs that were now echoing throughout the practice space.  Trying to decide what he could do to help, Eddie grabbed a water bottle, and held it up in the doorway, before cautiously peering into the bathroom himself.  Jeff was holding Stone’s hair back, while attempting to stand at a safe distance as Stone violently evicted the noxious contents from his body.  Jeff nodded thankfully at the water bottle, so Eddie set it down by Stone.  

“I don’t know . . . “ Stone moaned, pausing to flush.  “Shit, this is awful.”  

“I bet it was that seafood platter,”  

“Oh god, don’t mention that -- ”  just the thought triggered another round of miserable heaves.  

Eddie smiled sympathetically as Jeff winced at him.  He couldn’t help but notice how comfortably the two could touch each other.  He got the feeling that the scenario he was witnessing wasn’t new, that Jeff had probably held Stone’s hair back at some point before, and that Stone had probably held Jeff’s hair back on occasion too. Somehow he couldn’t picture his own previous bandmates doing this for him.  No.  They would have been annoyed, and probably would have mocked him. But this band was different.  Seattle was different.  

“Here, Eddie brought you some water,” Jeff offered, as Stone came up for air.  

“Thanks . . . “ Stone took the bottle, his hand shaking.  He took a sip and leaned back against the door frame.  Jeff flushed the last remnants away.  “I think I’m better now.  I’ve just been feeling kinda off all day.”

“Yeah, well we got back so late last night, probably didn’t help.  Did you get any sleep?”

“No.”

“Did you eat at all today?”  

“No.”  

“Do you want to lie down?”  

Stone nodded. 

And for the second time, Jeff effortlessly lifted Stone to a standing position, and the two of them hobbled over to the couch, where Jeff delicately deposited his ailing bandmate.  Stone immediately curled up and closed his eyes.  Jeff pulled a fleece blanket off the back of the couch and covered Stone with it, tucking the edges underneath him.  

Pleased with his work, he stepped back to join Eddie, who was standing to the side, trying to somehow give them privacy.  

“Man, he’s got it bad!” Jeff commented as he and Eddie wandered away from the couch, toward the amps.  

“Yeah!” Eddie agreed.  “Are YOU feeling okay?”

“Yeah, good thing I didn’t eat any of that seafood.  It was a stressful trip though.  I mean, we got everything taken care of, thank god, and even had some fun, but it was just -- go go go, you know? And then our flight got delayed, blah blah.”  

Eddie nodded.  He noticed that Jeff continuously glanced toward the couch as they talked.  

“Speaking of food,”  Jeff looked at his watch, then back at the couch again.  “I’m starving.  We’re probably not going to get much more practice in.  Do you want to go grab a burrito?  I’m guessing he doesn’t want to.”  

Eddie paused before answering.  Jeff looked so uneasy.  He got the feeling there was a right answer here, and a wrong answer.  Eddie quickly weighed his options.    

“No . . . “ he decided to say.  “I actually had a huge breakfast.  You go ahead.  I’ll stay here.  I need to work on some lyrics anyway.”  Now they both looked at Stone, his hair peeking out from the blanket.   “I can. . . keep an eye on him while you’re gone.”  

“Would you?’  Jeff asked too quickly.  His uneasiness immediately seemed to dissipate.  He looked at the floor for a few silent moments, and then looked up again to meet Eddie’s eyes.  He bit his lip.  “Honestly . . . that scared the hell out of me.”  

Eddie nodded and waited quietly, unsure if Jeff was going to elaborate.  Jeff opened his mouth, struggling with the decision on whether to or not.  The ugly memory that had intruded his mind the minute he had realized his bandmate was unconscious was still lingering and Jeff knew it would never erase itself.  But it was still too fresh, too raw, too . . . ugly . . . to talk about.  No, he couldn’t elaborate.  Not yet.  

Instead he slapped his strong thighs and stood up.  He walked to the couch and leaned over to peer at the blanket.  Upon reassuring himself that Stone was just sleeping, breathing regularly and peacefully, he nodded, gave Eddie a goodbye salute, and left.  

Eddie’s eyes lingered on empty space where Jeff had been standing, feeling an odd pang of emptiness himself.  Maybe it was the memory of his surfer days, or his old band, or maybe it was envy at their closeness.  In the short time he had known them, he had already seen them bicker like an old married couple on multiple occasions, and yet.  Yet.  Their familiarity and intimacy was apparent in their body language and their innate ability to comfort each other when it mattered.  Eddie wondered how long it would be, or if it would ever be, that he would feel that connected with them.  

With Stone’s breathing now the only sound in the rehearsal space, Eddie watched through the window as Jeff emerged from the front of the building, and began untangling his bike from the rack.  With elegant dexterity, he maneuvered the bike over the curb, weaving between the parked cars, and rode away, down the misty street toward the burritos, out of Eddie’s view.

@gardenofstoney @mookiebaelock - a little Jeff/Stone love for you!!

[deejadabbles]

Spells of Defiance (Atem x Reader x Yugi) Chapter 2

Two: Yugi

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven //// [Eight coming soon]

Summary: The Circle of Magicians protects the world from rogue, murderous fey. The police who keep bloodsuckers and flesh-eaters in check. You’ve hunted vampires for years, earning a reputation as one of the best magicians in that field; but what happens when an encounter with a particular vampire makes your already fragile loyalties split?

Supernatural/Demon Hunter AU. Vampire!Atem x Reader x Incubus!Yugi (yes, a polyamorous relationship). Warnings for cursing, vulgar language, violence, and some sexual themes.

This is a fic I’ve already posted this on my AO3 but I wanted to spread the Yu-gi-oh x Reader love here on tumblr.

A brief stop at the mess hall ensured several things, that you heeded the vampire's worry and got some food in you, as well as make your presence known to anyone who saw you go into the prison wing, alleviating any suspicions they might have on if you had a prison break in mind. Most of all, however, it gave you the chance to talk to Mahad about something that troubled you all day.

After sitting in the chair opposite him at his usual table, you told him about the strange thing that happened when Marik's follower bit your right arm. You had been bitten by several vampires over the years and the one just moments ago proved that the hot pain wasn't some new reaction you developed. Though you omitted Atem's bite, Mahad seemed quite interested in your story. He asked to look at your hand, the one with the Circle's seal on it, and examined the brand closely.

"I think the chemical vampires inject when they bite a victim reacted to the magic seal," he had concluded eventually. "Since the seal constantly feeds magic into your body, it likely reacted poorly to the vampire curative, like two incompatible chemicals igniting."

Well, that had been a good enough explanation for you. At least the thought that Marik was giving his followers some strange new powers was pushed down on your list of possibilities.

After your business there was taken care of, you retired to the second floor of the Sanctuary where everyone's quarters were. Your room, like every magician's, was small and devoid of much personalization aside from the stray trinket or two. Shelves were full of Circle-issued books, herbs, and tools mainly used for your job as a magician. It wasn't much, but at least it was yours.

You knew you needed rest, but too many thoughts swirled in your head as you curled up in bed. Possible ways to help Atem, how you could pull it off and what to do after you did. Several options for both bid for your attention, making you feel scatterbrained and restless.

Knowing that lack of sleep would only impede your ability to complete whatever plan you came up with, you eventually had to get up and take a vial from your stockpile of sleeping drafts. It was a drastic measure, you didn't like how the potion usually...amped up the weirdness of your dreams, but it was better than lying awake all night.

Once it had taken hold and you finally fell into sleep, it quickly became apparent that that particular side effect was doing wonders tonight. In the dream you were still lying in bed, only now instead of feeling disoriented and fitful, you sighed in relief as a wave of calm washed over you, leaving you content, warm, and...excited all at the same time somehow. You were even made aware of how wonderful the fabric of your clothes felt against your body, the garb not being your usual night clothes, but something silken and much more revealing. Then you dreamt of an arm, sliding its way across your hip before a firm hand gripped it. Fingers started stroking your hair and you hummed in delight as something else warm and soft draped lazily across your thigh.

"Are you comfortable?" a voice you couldn't ever remember hearing before whispered from behind. The voice was sweet and gentle, not unlike a butterfly's wings. You only hummed in response as the fingers continued to massage your scalp and temples, so the voice continued. "Good. Now, tell me about your day. I heard there was a trial, something involving a vampire?"

Memories of Atem's plight invaded your dreams. The both of you fighting side by side, his judgment by the people you served, his cell and his fangs piercing your skin with such care. The flash of memories felt almost painful. This was wrong. Why were some scenes replaying trice over behind your eyes? The fingers continued to soothe, and the soft string by your thighs swished slowly across your bare skin.

Then the sense of wrongness pitched to a high bar as something dug deeper. Memories of touring the Sanctuary played like a movie in your mind. Distant voices, the voices of guards posted at the cells were trying to swim to the surface as well. Something was looking for answers in your head. The thing swaying lazily at your thighs- how could you not have realized it was a tail the moment it touched you? And the hands stroking so gently, they had minor but undeniable claws to them!

Your mind was yours again in an instant and so was your body. You grabbed the wrist of the hand at your head and heard a gasp from the melodic voice. One swift motion and you were atop the invader. A second and his clawed hands were pinned down by your knees on either side of him. Your own hands were free to strike if needed- though you noticed your current state of dress and that made you lose an ounce or two of security. The sheer fabric of the negligee sent waves of vulnerability to your core, even as you stared daggers down at the incubus trapped beneath you.

His lavender eyes were naturally large, but they were widened in shock and, though he obviously tried to hide it, fear. Heat gathered in your right palm as you called on your fire, and you kicked your glare up to a ten as you addressed the demon.

"What the hell do you think you're doing invading the dreams of a magician, incubus?"

He wasn't trying to escape your grasp, knowing a physical struggle was pointless in the world of sleep. "I wasn't doing anything perverse if that's what you think." When you cocked your eyebrow and darted your eyes down to the lingerie you were dressed in, he actually flushed a pronounced pink color and looked away. "You d-dressed yourself in that, not me! It must have been conjured up when your subconscious picked up on...my type of magic."

The term 'pleasure magic' hung unspoken but heavy in the air between you two, since both of you knew what his 'type' was. You ignored the sudden wave of embarrassment upon remembering that you had been admiring this particular outfit in a store a couple of weeks ago. That wasn't important right now, you knew he wasn't here for a typical feeding, not with what was flashing in your head just a minute ago.

"You were looking for info on Atem. Why?" You kept your voice and gaze as firm and cold as steel, even when the incubus met your eyes again and you saw his own steel under the lavender irises.

"I can't tell you that."

Oh, he knew you couldn't actually do much in the dream world, but that was okay.

"Fine, have it your way."

You gripped the collar of his button-up in a firm grasp as you began chanting your spell, and that's when he did start to struggle. It was too late though. You plunged your grip into his very being, his life force, and pulled his essence along the tenuous connection he himself had made between you two in order to enter your mind. And just like that, his enchantment -the dream- faded, but his body became more solidified beneath your grip. You had hauled him through space from wherever he was hiding and into your room. Wasting no time once his physical being was there, you threw him off your bed and to the floor.

He hit the ground with a thud, but you hadn't put enough strength behind the move to cause him real pain. Damn, his huge leathery wings might be a problem in your tiny bedroom. His spade-tipped tail swished behind him as he took a defensive stance, still on all fours on the ground. Even with that, you sensed no real fight in him. Oh, he would definitely fight if he needed to, but, something in his eyes said he didn't want to fight you. So, not liking the idea yourself, even after his invasion of your privacy, you lessened the aggressiveness of your own stance. At least you were back in your actual PJ's in the real world, you felt much less vulnerable now.

"I just teleported your ass to the worst place a rogue fey can be," you started, keeping your tone cool. "Tell me why you were rifling through my head, and I might let you go."

The incubus did not respond at first, he looked as though he was weighing something in his mind carefully. You hadn't noticed it at first, the thick curling horns atop his head having obscured some of his hair, but, now that you got a better look at him, the demon bore quite a resemblance to Atem. They couldn't be related. Incubi and succubi were born demons, vampires were humans made into demons either by other vampires or by dark magicians casting a curse. Maybe they just liked the same brand of hair gel or something.

"You were trying to help him."

The incubus' words drew your attention from his face at large and more directly to his eyes. You honestly couldn't tell if his tone was accusatory or something else, but either way, a suspicion came to mind that you did not like.

"Are you working for Marik? Were you trying to find out how much the Circle knows about his little cult?"

The demon's brow creased in anger at the name. "No! I would never work for that monster!"

"Then why-" you stopped yourself, another thought popping into your head as you remembered what memories the incubus had been searching through. He not only searched for scenes of Atem but for your knowledge of the prison wing's layout. You made your voice a bit more gentle as you asked, "What's your name?"

The man again looked wary, considering. "...Yugi."

Your posture relaxed even more now and you actually sighed with relief. Yugi must have assumed he was safe because he too relaxed, getting up from his crouch slowly.

"Atem told you about me?"

"He asked me to find you and tell you what happened to him. He didn't want you to be left wondering." You crossed your arms, giving him an almost amused smirk. "I don't think he expected you to use your magic and go digging around in a magician's head."

Yugi blushed just a tad again but his voice was even as he said, "I'm sorry for invading your privacy, but I thought you were the magician who arrested him. When I saw your memories of the past couple days though..." He gave you an odd look, as if he was almost perplexed by you, though not in a bad way. "You were trying to prove he was innocent. You fought for him, you even let him..." his eyes flickered to your left wrist and the phantom feel of Atem's gentle bite pulsed there.

Feeling suddenly embarrassed again you moved the conversation along. "Look, I know what you were looking for in my mind, you want to break Atem out, but I'm telling you now it's not possible. There are wards and seals all around the prison wing and you can't get in without a magician's seal," you waved your right palm at him. "You'll just end up getting killed if you try to rescue him by yourself."

Again his eyes filled with an anger that you already suspected was uncommon for him. His eyes were meant to be soft and sparkling, not filled with hate.

"I'm not going to just stand by and let the Circle kill him! I can't!"

"Hey, hold on there, Yugi," you held up your hands to keep him calm, even with your noise canceling charms around the room, if he got too loud your neighbors might hear him. "I just said you can't do it by yourself." When his eyes exchanged anger for a soft flicker of hope, you couldn't help but smile. "Luckily for you, I'm not going to let them kill Atem either. And...your help might make things a lot easier on me..."

Even though your specialty was vampires, you knew quite a lot about pretty much all fey races, including the talents of incubi and succubi. They weren't just good at invading people's dreams and making your wildest sex fantasies come true, most were also talented at glamor charms. It went hand in hand with the whole 'fulfilling their desires' thing, not to mention it was necessary to turn their wings, horns, and tails invisible if they walked among humans.

After a short talk with Yugi, you were assured that he was one who could extend that talent to turn himself, and others, invisible altogether. That was a tool you needed in order to pull off the 'sneaking Atem out' portion of your plan. If you cast an invisibility spell your fellow magicians would have a higher chance of sensing it and catching on to your plan. Yugi's brand of magic was different, It was less attune to a magician's senses. Like radio waves on slightly different frequencies.

You were glad that you had two endurance potions in your personal stock, you and Yugi had needed them by the morning. Not only were you up for hours discussing your plans but, when you tried to get a few hours rest, you simply couldn't fall asleep with an incubus so close. You knew Yugi meant no harm, he was easily one of the most respectful and gentle seeming demons you'd ever met, but that didn't mean the teachings of not trusting such creatures went away easily. Twice you had jerked awake and automatically reached for your silver dagger when your subconscious sensed his demonic energy so close.

You hated it. Hated that they had taught you to kill his kind with little to no questions. It was an impulse and teaching you had fought your entire life. Still, at least in this instance, being able to look down, see Yugi curled up on the carpet with your spare blanket and his peaceful sleeping face made you come back to your senses in a snap. He was so quick to trust you. You wondered if you yourself could ever get to that point.

At least now, in the waking world, you had enough control over your emotions to trust him. He was practically pressed against your back as you two walked down the halls of the Sanctuary, his form invisible to everyone. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and if it wasn't for the fact that you had gleaned much of his gentle personality the night before, your instincts would be screaming at him being so close to such a vulnerable spot.

"I know we talked about this a lot last night," Yugi whispered in your ear, wary that the glamor would do nothing to hide his voice from passing magicians, "but are you sure it's best to do this during the day? Wouldn't it be easier at night?"

"Night is when they'd expect a vampire to escape," you muttered back, barely moving your lips. "Don't worry, Yugi. Everything will be fine. Just follow my lead and we'll be okay."

You heard him draw in a deep breath, "I know. I trust you."

That gentle, easy omission almost made you stop in your tracks, but you quickly pushed it to the back of your mind. Both of you needed to focus, there was no time for sentimentality.

It was a long trek from your quarters to the prison wing and the first half of that walk went by without incident, no other magician's paid you or your invisible friend any mind. That is, until a certain shade wearing blonde rounded a corner and locked eyes on you.

You cursed under your breath as Keith stormed towards you across the wide hallway. Trying to duck him would just make matters worse, better to address the threat now. Keith wouldn't do much with everyone else in the hall anyway, you just hoped he kept his distance while he barked.

"Heard your little cry-fest didn't do your pet vampire any good," Keith smirked as he came nearer. "But I gotta bone to pick with you."

Keith advanced and you couldn't escape. Damn him, you weren't the only one who knew how to corner prey. You backed into a wall and felt your back press against Yugi's chest. He took in a sharp breath and, almost as if on instinct, wrapped his arms around your middle. Poor guy obviously felt the need to hold his breath as Keith closed in and planted his fist on the wall beside your head.

"That little stunt you pulled yesterday is gonna cost you, girly. That was my favorite jacket."

"What, I didn't do anything," you defended against his attempt to intimidate. "I'm guessing your jackets burst into flames all the time, better than being on your back all day in any case."

If the comment annoyed him at all, it didn't show, his smirk only grew. "Cute. Bet you won't be cute when I drag ya in front of the Council." He dropped his tone to a conspiratorial whisper, like a teen sharing gossip. "See, I know about your little trip down to the dungeons after lockdown last night. My guess is your vampire boy loved the company." Somehow his grin turned even more sadistic, "You got a fang fetish or something? Yeah, that's it, isn't it? Always knew you were a freak."

The arms around your waist tightened and Yugi let out a low rumble in his throat.

Keith's eyebrows knitted beneath his shades, "Did you just growl at-" He paused, his forehead wrinkling even further. Then his head jerked slightly. "The hell?"

His fist lowered from its spot by your head as Keith turned away a bit. He cursed under his breath again, then stepped away from you completely, looking quite frazzled even with his shades covering half of his face. The next moment Keith was powerwalking down the hall, throwing some half distracted comment about 'dealing with you later' over his shoulder as his fingers ran ragged through his hair.

"What did you do?" you whispered to Yugi, bewildered and still looking at Keith's retreating form.

You felt the incubus shrug against your back. "He seems like the type of man who doesn't appreciate gay porn, so, I planted an hour-long loop of it in his head."

You had to bite your lip quickly to keep from bursting out in laughter, oh, Keith was never going to forget this! The more you thought about it the more you wanted to laugh. Yugi, apparently having just realized that he had grabbed hold of you, finally unwrapped his arms from your waist. You took the chance to dart down a less crowded adjacent hallway and, the moment you were sure no one would see you, doubled over and let out a deep, long laugh.

You sensed Yugi join your side but you couldn't stop laughing, especially when the thought of Keith walking around, smacking his temples like a hazy TV to get the images to stop popped into your head. He was going to be very traumatized for the next hour.

"I- I can't remember the last time I la-laughed this hard!" you finally managed, trying to catch your breath. You honestly didn't, while you had managed to retain a sense of humor over the years, life as a demon hunter didn't offer much laughter.

Finally, you regained control of yourself, though you flashed a smile at where you assumed Yugi was standing before you stepped back out into the main hallway and resumed your walk to the prison wing. Again Yugi remained close behind you, obviously trying to keep calm while being in a proverbial hornet's nest, especially when other magicians passed close by. Still, you managed to get to your destination without trouble.

There was no one at the main entrance, but you knew guards would be patrolling the wing, and again, Yugi's magic would come in handy. After you pressed your palm to the magic seal on the door, stepped inside, and assured that no one was within sight, you shut the door behind you and turned to Yugi.

"Okay, glamor me like how I told you last night."

While he worked his magic, Yugi's imagine became viable in a shimmer, though only for a moment. An odd sensation of excitement washed through you as the spell took hold and he was finished in just a few seconds. You looked down at yourself and felt that the clothes were very much...not you. Neither was the curtain of flowing locks long enough to tuck into your belt, the hair color was the exact opposite of your own. Good, the whole point of this glamor was so the first prisoner you spoke to or anyone who caught a glimpse of you here wouldn't recognize you.

"When we approach this prisoner remember what I told you, Yugi. He may look like an innocent kid, but he's not. He's almost a hundred and fifty years old, dragons just age slower."

You heard the concern in Yugi's voice when he answered, "He's not going to hurt anyone, is he? Aren't you worried that he's one of the fey who really should be locked in here?"

"No. He doesn't have a history of violence," you tried to make your tone reassuring, even giving him what you hoped was a calm smile. "In fact, the only reason he's in here at all is because of his big brother. The Council was hoping to get some info about him and maybe even prove that he's been involved in his brother's shady adventures." You shrugged. "I don't know, he just doesn't seem like the type, and even if was helping out his brother, those dragons are way at the bottom of our 'most dangerous' list. I don't see the harm in breaking the kid out."

"I thought you said he wasn't a kid," Yugi's tone sounded quite amused.

You rolled your eyes, "Just follow me."

The little dragon's less than violent record was not the only reason you were willing to break him free. His cell was on the far side of the prison, opposite Atem's cell, making the little one a perfect distraction.

It felt wrong to say his cell was 'nice' but honestly, considering what the other prisoners were stuck with, it was. A nicer bed (though still a cot), a TV, books, and even a heater to keep his cold-blooded body warm. Whether his special treatment was due to the fact that the Council wanted him on their side, or because they feared retribution from his older brother if they treated him too harshly, you weren't sure.

When you stepped in front of his cell the youngling dragon was laid out on his cot, arms behind his head and eyes closed. Also looking quite human in his current form, unable to change into his winged form with the magical wards surrounding the prison.

He greeted you with a smug tone, "Day three. You guys are really pushing your luck keeping me here. Big brother's gonna be breaking down your walls to get me back any day now."

"What if you didn't have to wait?"

Your tone of voice drew his attention and his eyes snapped open, their gray depths locking on yours. "Who're you?"

"Someone who needs a distraction. I can get you out of the cell, and even give you directions to a section of this wing where I weakened the wards that keep you from transforming."

He sat up, looking suspicious, hopeful, and excited all at the same time. "What's the catch?"

"Like I said, I need a distraction. After you transform and go crashing through the nearest wall, I just want you to make an even bigger mess in the courtyard. Don't kill anyone, just draw as much attention as possible before you fly off."

"Did Seto send you?"

"No, but think how impressed your big brother will be when you come home all on your own."

Kids, human, dragon, or otherwise, would be kids, and kids liked to look cool. He agreed to your terms in a heartbeat, and after opening his cell and sending him on his way, you and Yugi booked it to Atem's cell.

It wasn't hard to avoid the two guards patrolling the halls, especially with your knowledge of their patterns and Yugi's help.

Much like the night before, Atem must have caught your scent on the air, not just yours though. He called out both yours and Yugi's names in surprised worry as he pressed himself as close to the silver bars as possible. Yugi finally let his invisibility glamor fall as you both came into view and Atem's eyes widened when he looked at him.

"What are you doing here?!" He tried to step closer to the bars, looking ready to grab Yugi and shake him for coming after him, but he hisses at the sting of silver.

"We came to rescue you!" Yugi replied innocently.

Atem turned his scolding eyes to you, then flinched slightly when he took in your very different appearance. Yugi muttered an 'oppose, forgot to drop the glamor' before waving his hand and returning you to normal. Atem was over the shock in a second.

"Neither of you should be here. If you're caught, they'll kill all three of us! I won't have either of you getting hurt because of me!"

"Oh shut up," you snapped, "have a little faith in us, Atem. Yugi's a pretty smart guy and with my help we'll be able to pull this off- as long as you don't put up a fuss." To make your words all the more firm, you folded your arms and matched his hard gaze.

In your peripherals you caught Yugi giving a smile that was almost a smirk. "You heard her, Atem, don't make a fuss. We're getting you out and that's final."

The vampire closed his eyes, and the way his fangs poked through as he sighed looked almost cute. "Fine." He opened his eyes again and looked over at the tiny window that let in a beam of afternoon sun into the hallway. "I assume you have a way to prevent me from bursting into flames the moment we step outside?"

"Yup, luckily for you sometimes magicians need to transport vampires during the day, and I know an enchantment to do that." You held up a golden ring etched with runes. "It'll only last a few hours when I activate the enchantment, but it should be more than enough to get you out." Before you could explain any more of the plan, a thunderous crash that shook the ground followed by a roar cut you off. The little dragon was finally on his way out. "That's our cue."

You raised your right hand, the seal on your palm glowing and connecting to the lock on the cell. The moment the mechanism clicked, Yugi grabbed the bars of the door and threw it open. The moment it was, you tossed the enchanted ring to the vampire and told Yugi to do his thing, just as shouting echoed down the stone hall, frantic and calling for backup to hold off the dragon. When you looked back and saw that Yugi had turned himself and Atem invisible the next phase of your plan started.

.

The dragon youngling made good on his word and wreaked so much havoc on the Sanctuary's courtyard that the hallways were practically empty as the three of you ran for it. Even the few magicians you did pass didn't spare you more than a glance, likely assuming that you were on a mission for something specific. The echoes of the invisible feet running behind you didn't even draw notice in the commotion that could be heard clearly from outside.

"Are we truly planning on simply walking out the front door?" Atem hissed behind you.

"No, it's more like the back door the way she described it," Yugi answered.

"We just need to get out of range from the Sanctuary's wards and I can teleport us out of here. Now keep quiet before someone hears us!"

To your horror, silence had just fallen between the three of you, when two figures turned a corner and almost knocked right into you. You skidded to a halt so fast you feared that the boys wouldn't be able to avoid colliding with your back. They managed not to by a hair.

"Whoa! Sorry!" the shorter of the two called.

"Oh, Mana." Your attention immediately darted up to her companion and your eyes locked with Mahad's. Your spine gave a slight shiver at how he already looked suspicious.

"Where are you off to?" he asked, trying to keep his tone gentle.

"Councilman Rhodes asked me to get something from his office, to help with the escaping dragon." Good thing you already had an excuse ready.

Mahad raised an eyebrow. Then, the horror inside your stomach screamed again as he looked behind you and narrowed his eyes. Without another word, Mahad waved his hand and chanted a familiar spell. You wanted to scream out loud as you turned, and saw Yugi's glamor fall. Both men stood there, frozen and wide-eyed and completely visible.

Mana gasped, "Atem! You were using the attack to sneak him out!" Then her face fell from surprise to confusion as she looked Yugi up and down, "Who's the incubus?"

"Atem's lover, I assume." Mahad's eyes darted from them to you and not for the first time in your life, you felt like Mahad was reading your very soul like a book. He had always been able to tell volumes about a person just by looking at them.

As you and the boys were still frozen on the spot, not knowing what to do, Mana looked up at her mentor with pleading eyes. "Master...if we turn them in, all three of them will be executed." Her eyes darted back to you, "She was just trying to do what was right!"

All you could manage was to look the man directly in his eyes. There was no chance at overpowering a skilled magician like Mahad. Your fates were in his hands now.

He held your gaze for another long moment, before he closed them and turned away. "Then I guess it is a good thing that we didn't see them. Let's go, Mana."

"Yes, sir!" the girl said, her usual cheerful manner back as she winked at you and followed her teacher down the hallway.

It took a moment to realize what just happened, but, after that moment, it really didn't surprise you. Mahad followed rules, yes, but above all else, he was a good and fair man.

"Thank you," Atem's voice called after the two magicians and Mahad actually stopped at the words.

"Take care of her. She's throwing the only life she's ever known away right now." He looked over his shoulder and gave you one final serious stare. "Even if we keep quiet, the Council will find out. You know that."

You only had to wait a second before you answered with, "I don't care."

The profound look of understanding that crossed Mahad's eyes almost caught you off guard. Perhaps he wished he could do the same as you. But a second later he and Mana resumed their walking, the latter giving you one last wave of goodbye before they turned another corner.

When you looked back at the boys to tell Yugi to cast his spell again, you jolted at how both of them were staring at you. Had they assumed you could just send them on their way and come back to the Circle without the Council discovering what you did? No, they were too smart for that assumption. More like having it said out loud made it real for them...and they seemed torn over the idea that you were giving up, well, everything for them. You didn't like the hints of guilt in their eyes.

"Come on, we got a lot of ground to cover still."

Teleportation spells...they just weren't your forte. But it was the best way to get plenty of distance between you and the Sanctuary while they realized what you'd done. So you just had to endure the strain of teleporting yourself and two passengers the moment you were out of the building's magical reach.

Your body hit the ground hard, the dry leaves and dirt doing little to break your fall and you heard two similar thuds come right after you before your portal closed. Letting out a groan, you rolled onto your hand's and knees, hoping there weren't too many bruises as you looked over your companions who were once again visible.

"You two okay? I've never teleported that many people."

Yugi sat up on his knees and flapped one of his wings gingerly. "I'll be okay," he winced.

Both of you looked around the forest to find Atem, and there was a strange flutter in your chest when you saw him standing in a ray of sun. The light illuminated his face, only enhancing his look of wonder as he looked up at the blue sky between the trees.

"I had heard of enchantments that allow vampires to walk in the sunlight but..." he looked back at the two of you and his smile was so happy it made your heart ache. "I never thought I would see this again."

Yugi rose from the forest floor and walked to Atem, immediately pulling him into a tight embrace, something he had likely wanted to do since he saw him in the cell. You felt a sudden wash of shame as you watched the affection, though you couldn't pinpoint why. You shouldn't blame yourself for what the Circle did...even if you were part of that very clan.

Not wanting to intrude on their proper reunion, you busied yourself with that task of finding the backpack you had stashed in the forest that morning. It was a large thing, though, quite small when one realized that it had all of your possessions stuffed inside. It wasn't as if you could go back for your things after breaking Atem out.

When you returned to where the men were they had parted from their embrace and you saw looks of worry on their faces as the peered through the trees. When they spotted you, their mutual worry eased in an instant.

"I assume you never told the council where you or Yugi live, right?" you asked before they could say anything to you.

Atem shook his head. "We should be safe, so long as they don't find it too important to track us down." He looked over at Yugi with a smirk. "Yugi actually knows how to cast a ward or two himself, and has our home protected from tracking spells."

Oh, they lived together? Interesting.

"Just small ones," Yugi muttered, cheeks red, "I don't think they'd stand up against the Circle's heavy duty spells though."

"Don't worry. The only reason they were going to kill Atem is because they thought he was part of Marik's cult and figured it was easiest to execute him. They won't waste resources tracking him down now. But they will to find me...which brings me to a favor I need to ask of you."

Atem met your eyes, looking alert, serious, and ready. "After everything you've done, you can ask anything of me."

You set your backpack down on the ground and looked down at the magician's seal branded into your palm. An ancient mark that bound you to the Circle. A mark of servitude one might say. "If I'm going to escape the Circle myself, I need this seal removed." You closed your fingers, feeling another flood of shame. "You see, this seal doesn't just help us channel our magic and let us open doors in the Sanctuary. It...It also acts as a kill switch."

"What?" Atem's dark tone made you look up at him. He suddenly looked very angry. Yugi contrasted by looking horrified.

"In the case of a rogue magician, a magician like me, the Council can cast a spell and use the seal to kill the magician. I don't think they'll do that immediately, they'll try to capture me first, but I have no doubt that they'll resort to that eventually."

Yugi took a step forward. "You told that man that you knew the Council would find out that you betrayed them. You knew that and you still..."

"It doesn't matter, especially because I think Atem can help me get rid of the seal."

"How? How can I help," he asked, sounding on the verge of desperate.

"Yesterday a vampire bit my right arm and it hurt. It hurt like hell, not how vampire bites are supposed to feel. When I asked around the most likely conclusion is that the curative on a vampire's fangs reacts to the magic in the seal." You knew your eyes must have turned pleading as you looked at Atem, but you didn't much care somehow. "I think your bite can purge the seal's enchantment from my body. If it's magic vanishes, so does my connection with the Circle."

Atem's eyes darted to your right palm, "Are you sure it'll work?"

"No. But it's the only other option besides cutting off my hand." You gave them a wry smile. "That's plan B."

Yugi scowled, "Please don't joke about that."

You closed the distance between you and the vampire and he looked almost wary as you lifted your hand, palm up, to him. "It's worth a try." Relief filled you when Atem took your hand. "I'll warn you now, I'll probably start screaming, but don't stop. If it hurts that means it's working."

"You don't know that," Atem all but snapped, but, after a moment he looked back down at your palm and sighed. "I pray this works."

He opened his mouth and his fangs flashed in the sunlight before they pierced the skin of your palm. White hot pain filled your veins almost instantly and you clamped your mouth shut in an effort not to cry out. You didn't want Atem to feel guilty for hurting you, especially with how gentle he was trying to be, but the pain was too much and you couldn't stop the shout of agony that bubbled up from your throat. Sweat gathered on your brow and your other hand clenched so hard you were sure your nails broke the skin.

Then, you felt a pair of hands cup your face. They turned your head and you saw Yugi's beyond distraught face before he locked his purple eyes with yours. And suddenly the pain seemed to fade away, slowly but surely. It was replaced by a calm kind of excitement. Not unlike the feeling you felt when he entered your dream or when he changed your appearance with his magic. Your mind went fuzzy, and you couldn't think of anything in particular. It felt like floating under a ray of sun.

Slowly, the scene came back to you. A dull ache throbbed in your right palm as hands rubbed it and your arm with reassuring care. A wave of dizziness overtook your body and you stumbled, only to be caught in two pairs of strong arms.

"We've got you," Yugi said as they lowered you to the ground gently.

"Does it still hurt?" Atem asked as neither dared to let go of you yet.

You managed to find your voice after a few moments. "Believe it or not, it hurt worse when they gave me the mark."

Yugi looked disgusted. "And they call us the monsters."

You became aware that Atem was still gently stroking your palm with his thumb. You looked down, and you almost wanted to cry in relief when you saw that the seal was nothing but a faint pink scar now.

"I think it worked," Atem confirmed.

After a minute you managed to regain some of your strength and as you did you got the urge to remove yourself from their embrace. It felt odd to be part of such affection, though the moment you sat up, you missed the comfort.

"Thank you, Atem. This will make running from the Circle much easier." After giving the vampire a smile, you looked over at Yugi, almost amused as you remembered how Yugi had done something in the midst of your pain. "Did you use your seduction magic on me?"

As his eyes widened his face flushed, "I didn't fully seduce you! I just...you were in so much pain, I thought I could use it to block it out of your mind. It seemed to work too."

"I'm not upset. Thank you, it made all of that a lot easier."

Still with a hint of the blush, Yugi smiled back at you. Silence settled for a moment, and you knew the longer you were with them, the harder it would be to part. Damn it, why did being with them just feel so....

"You two need to get home. The enchantment on Atem's ring won't last forever and you'll want to be somewhere safe when it runs out."

When you stood up both men jumped to their feet as well, Atem actually stepping in front of you. "What do you mean 'you two'? You're coming as well."

"What? No, I shouldn't."

"Yes you should!" Yugi insisted, "You need a place to stay, stay with us!"

Your mouth opened and closed a few time, resembling a fish as you tried to think of a good reason to deny them. Then again, did you really want to?

Atem put a hand on your upper arm, "Please, stay with us. We need to look out for each other now."

A moment of contemplation. "I...o-okay. I'll stay for a while."

"Yes!" Yugi cheered, "It's settled then," he plucked your backpack from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. "Since you're still pretty shaken up from Atem's bite I'll fly us there."

"Wait, what?" your face felt drained all of the sudden. You had been in the air a few times, but somehow the imagery of this incubus trying to carry both you and Atem while flying made you fearful.

"Don't worry," Atem assured with a smile, "Yugi is stronger than he looks, he won't let you fall."

As the incubus gathered a vampire in one arm and a magician in the other you said, "But I'm just not a big fan of flyING-!" your voice pitched into something like a scream as he flapping his wings and shot into the air.

Life was certainly going to be more interesting with these two.