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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

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Hello friends! Here is my contribution to the Bakugou Birthday Bash! The master link will be linked here ! Please enjoy my bit of an angsty fic! And all of the other art and works that are on the master list! Enjoy the big bakugou blow out and remember to leave a comment on your favorite pieces! Happy birthday ya shitty man! (Lowkey become 3d please)

Warning: he's 28 btw 😂 (my fic says so also)

It shouldn't be this fucking hard to get groceries and booze. It's a quick and easy errand. Everything already pre-ordered for an important birthday that just needed to be picked up. And yet here you were crying in your car trying to get it together before the attendant asked for the order name. Honestly you had texted out "I can't do this today. Sorry." Several times before deleting it, telling yourself not to hit send. But you would have to be having the worst mental day of your life wouldn't you? Today of all days, how fucking selfish of you.

Especially with the amount of time and effort you and Kirishima had put into this idea. Since New Year's actually, months and months of planning after the two of you had gotten shit faced at Denki and Mina's new years party, creating the brain child. All after bonding over switching patrol partners six months before, you had gotten Bakugou and he had gotten Ashido. Kirishima and yourself giggle over stupid things to the side of the party, people watching as you took shots. Kirishima points towards a normally grumpy blonde.

"Wow I think he's actually having fun." You snort, as you watch Bakugou hide his rare cat smile behind a sip of his beer as Mina makes Denki the butt of a joke.

"He actually loves parties. He never says it so people just think he's a wet blanket." Kirishima laughs, pouring the two of you another shot. Bakugou lets out a particularly loud laugh after 'Dunce Face' proves Mina's point. I guess that would be the time that it started.

When you started to fall. His laugh makes your cheeks deepen in hue and burn, to want to hear it again, to watch it again and learn all of the other sides of your patrol partner that he obviously only reserved for his closest friends.

"Let's throw him a great birthday party." You say, holding up your shot as a devilish smile spreads over sharp teeth. The mountainous man clinks your shot glass before he adds.

"Let's." In unison the two of you down the burning liquid as the plan comes into fruition.

Four months, four months and nineteen days of you thinking of nothing but your patrol partner with whom you got extremely close with since New Year's. So why? Why today of all days were you struggling? Why would normal everyday tasks feel more as if you were wading through mud than the breeze they should have been? You flip down the visor, looking yourself in the eye through little square mirror as you grit your teeth hissing

"Get your shit together."

Your little pep talk helps you get the several cakes and the cart full of booze that everyone requested, planning to make this the best birthday ever. Helping Kirishima set his house up with decorations, setting out the snacks, catering and even pouring some drinks as guests began to arrive to set down their gifts and help with the last minute touches before hiding. Masking through the pit in your stomach as you smiled at all of your friends as they poured in through Kirishima's door. Through the weighted emptiness you felt as each one wrapped you into a tight hug, already praising you and Kirishima for the amazing effort, that Bakugou would be so surprised when it was more than just you and Kirishima here. . Finally you had to go and get the guest of honor just before sundown to catch him before he went to bed. A much needed breather from the constant smiling and forcing a laugh that everyone thought sounded genuine.

Enjoying the silence of the evening train as it pulled you across town to the unsuspecting blonde. And maybe you could have made it through the night from your shitty pep talk or at least through getting the freshly 28 year old to his party but instead you catch your reflection in the window. Your facial features weighted with exhaustion, shoulders hunched allowing your body to continue to produce cortisol. Tears prick your eyes as you deep low, too low. Remembering everything and nothing all at once, steeping in guilt as you beg yourself for just a few more hours. That the depression episode can happen when you're home and alone, after the party goes off without a hitch. Tears fall anyway and they do all the way to Bakugou's until you finally get enough control to step out of yourself for a moment. Ringing the doorbell several times as a smile is plastered on your face, the door swings open. Bakugou's eyes narrow as they take you in, he notices that something is off. Your smile is a little too wide, your eyes rimmed red but he says nothing about it. Instead he lets his initial anger come forth.

"Oi! I told you to fuckin' text me when you were on the train so I could meet you at the station!" He growls, slamming his door shut and pocketing his keys. Deadly and sweaty hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket as his palms itch to hold onto something else. Garnet eyes track your own hands as you reach over your head stretching.

"Yea yea, I hear you Dad." You tease giving him a look, "I still made it okay."

"Kirishima should have come instead of you that fuckin hair for brains." He snarls keeping pace with you as he always does on patrol.

"I know Dad must be sad cause his favorite didn't come to pick him up." You try not to sound dejected, nudging him in the ribs to distract from the crack in your voice, "Happy birthday ya big lug."

Bakugou cuts you a glare, mind racing before his barks out a "Thanks."

Comfortable silence stretches between the two of you before you two hit the train station, passing a corner store.

"Was shitty hair burning dinner? Do I need to stop for back up?" His thumb hooks over his shoulder towards the neon as he stands idle waiting for you to jog your memory. Kirishima had burned the last friend's dinner making Bakugou so angry he walked six blocks to make something that was 'FUCKIN EDIBLE!' while you tried to air out his apartment. You laugh loudly, genuinely for the first time that day causing Bakugou's shoulders to sag with relief. In the ten months he had been working with you he had only seen you faking a smile or laugh once or twice. Then the time after that you were absent from work the next day or two forcing him to patrol with Denki but worse yet...making him worry.

"Guess I'll grab something just in case." He gave you his back so you wouldn't see his face or the faint blush that dusted his cheeks.

"No, no! I ordered out this time. From that famous chef you like." Bakugou glares your way, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

"How much." He demands through gritted teeth while you show him the palms of your hands in surrender.

"Woah woah! It's your birthday gift! You can't pay me back for dinner! I'd sooner burn the money before I'd accept it from you!" Your watch dings with a message from Kirishima asking for an ETA. You grab onto Bakugou's hand pulling him along into a run as you shout over your shoulder.

"We're gonna be late!"

Oh how Bakugou wished you hadn't done that, he was already struggling to keep his heart beat even when you were around and now to grab onto him. To pull him along in a hurry like those cheesy insta posts that couples did on their "grand adventure" together. He swallows the lump in his throat as he reminds himself that you are nothing more than his patrol partner. His friend at best.

Even though the train was mostly empty Bakugou stood closely by you, as he always did when the two of you were in a crowded space. He had seen how most men took advantage of the situation and he hated the idea of that happening to you although he knew you were more than capable of handling it on your own. Hell you could kick even his ass but he would die before ever admitting that. Instead he watches you talk about what you ordered for dinner and how you got the cake from that bakery Sato works part time at, the same one he got your birthday cake from but he doesn't hear a word. Instead all he can see is the golden light from the setting sun worshiping you. Kissing your skin to make it glow, giving your eyes a hue that makes his heart fall into his stomach and illuminating you in a true light. A radiant ethereal thing is what you were and Bakugou was just lucky enough to be standing by you. So out of it he doesn't realize the two of you are at your stop.

"Uh Suki?" Your voice is soft paired with the setting sun has him acting weird. He leans closer to you, pulled by some invisible force before he stops himself as he watches you look up at him beneath long lashes.

"You okay?" You ask almost nervously from his proximity, the smell of spice and caramel wrap around you making you feel warm and fuzzy. Temporarily making you forget that you were trying to act on the train, making you relax as you just talked to Bakugou. He sucks his teeth as he picks up your bag to sling over his shoulder.

"Yea but you were gonna forget your whole damn purse like you always do." He huffs, this time he was the one pulling at your hand in a rush before the doors closed to trap you two on the train. His hand feels warm in yours, his grip tight as he drags you along before pulling you within his sight, another habit of his you happened to notice. Almost reluctantly he lets go of you hand as Kirishima's house comes into view.

"We better have a good time tonight patrol Princess or you owe me a special birthday gift." He laughs causing you to roll your eyes at his stupid nickname that stuck after your first day with him, adamant that the two of you take your route instead of his it was a huge argument. But it was a good thing he listened to the "princess", it put the two of you smack dab in the middle of a robbery. You stick out your tongue.

"Trust me. You're gonna have a good time!" You push him up the steps as he bats away your hands. Opening the front door before everyone jumps out of various and bad hiding spots.

"SURPRISE!!" All of the alumni of class A and some of B shout, a select few already slurring their words. Bakugou's scowl turns into a smirk before he looks over his shoulder at you.

"Aw you did this to me?" His voice is teasing but his eyes almost sparkle, you nod encouraging him to go deeper into the party. As he does people flock to him laughing and yelling out happy birthday until he's sick of hearing it. All the while your smile wanes with the night. Until an hour in that heavy episode hits you full force. Numbness setting in where happiness should be, rotting as it turns to shame and guilt as you watch your friend, your crush, enjoy his night. Bringing a glass bottle to his lips as he talks with Kirishima, who then presses a shot into his hands. Bodies dancing to the house music that beat out of the speakers competing with chatter and laughter.

It felt weird to watch everyone truly enjoying themselves while you felt low. It felt more as if you were standing outside of the house, looking in through the window to see everyone enjoying themselves, no one even knowing who you were as you stared in.

You felt distant, alone. What a shitty way to feel in a room full of people, none of it being their fault and so the guilt pressed harder. Eyes watering as they lingered on the blonde who deserved this celebration and more. Making you decide to give the best birthday gift of them all.

To slip away upstairs and onto the roof, to give the room space to breathe when you felt like suffocating.

Crying to no one but the moon.

And no one noticed. Two hours slip by before Kirishima insists that Bakugou make a wish and eat cake before everyone gets too drunk too. The entire house drunkenly sings happy birthday but Bakugou notices a voice missing. Yours that's just a touch off key, not to mention he didn't hear you say the stupid nickname 'Suki' where his name should be in the song. Plus you weren't one to miss out on dessert. For as long as Bakugou has been working with you, you never turned down the opportunity for sweets. Whether that was taking the long way back to the agency to try to catch a certain street vendor or to hover by the deserts at a party to pick the very best treat.

And if it was a birthday party, you never could shut up that y'all could not leave until after they blew out the candles and made a wish.

His eyes linger for a second longer, making sure he didn't miss you before his heart sinks. He takes in a sharp inhale, thinks on his wish and blows out the candles.

Meanwhile you hear the cheers of everyone down stairs and sob into your knees. You missed your favorite part of birthdays. Of hoping they make a wish that comes true, of watching their face as they think of something quickly or how some people tear up when they finally realize just how loved they are on their birthday.

It isn't long after that do you hear the sound of combat boots on shingles. Whipping your head up in the direction of the sound. Stomach clenching with guilt as you watch Bakugou walking towards you with a slice of cake.

"Brought ya some cake, since I didn't hear you sing off key to me." He says sinking down beside you as you furiously wipe at your tears.

"I'm-um."

"You don't gotta explain yourself to me." He snarls as you stare dumbly at your cake, "You know that."

"I know…" Silence passes slowly, the moon shines overhead and the party carries on below.

"Well, I'm waiting!" Bakugou says dramatically, "You gonna sing or am I gonna have to sing to myself?"

"Oh." It makes you giggle a bit before you blush, realizing he is serious. You take a deep breath before singing "just off key" when you don't, to him.

"Sukiiiiii!" Relief washes over his features when he hears the dumb ass name, "Happy birthday to youuuuuu!"

"Okay, now you can eat the damn cake." He grunts, his smile never wavering as he looks to the empty street below. You follow his eyes, chewing the inside of your lip, setting the cake down.

"What'd you wish for…" Curiosity gets the better of you and earns his intense gaze. He smirks, scoffing at the end.

"You always say you shouldn't tell or it won't come true." He laughs at your pout, before he finally admits "I wished for courage."

With a furrowed brow you give him a puzzled look, he just holds your gaze.

"Why? You're like the bravest hero I know!" Bakugou can hear the truth in your voice, you aren't saying it just to fucking stroke his ego.

You actually meant it, making this conversation that much harder.

"Yea except when it comes to this one thing I want to do. Its fuckin easy and I've done it hundreds of times just as I'm about to do it I fucking back down cause I'm probably fuckin reading into things too much." He leans in closer, again his smell mesmerizes you, causing your body to visibly relax, "Too much of a fuckin bitch, thinking she doesn't want me like I want her. So I wished for the courage to follow through. To fuckin' just do it."

Your heart is racing out of your chest before one of his hands finds the nape of your neck pulling you into a feverish kiss. Teeth gnashing from the passion, lips perfectly modeling to the other before tongues lightly dance around one another. Lengthening seconds into hours with just a few head tilts and plush lips. You moan into his mouth, he pulls away, eyes clouded with lust as a string of spit connects your tongues. He pants, face flushed and his hand warm, almost burning at the nape of your neck, the shingle by his hand charred from restraint as he pants out.

"I wished for you."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou birthday bash #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagine #bakugou birthday

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ambitionzzzz · 4 years ago

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Of Convenience

Chapter 1- Potions

Warnings: Cursing

Slughorn’s potions class was difficult to say the least. Sure you were at the top of nearly all your classes, but potions thoroughly kicked your ass. It’s possible you’d get the content if you’d show up on time. Like now- you ran through the long halls, trying to get to class before Slughorn locks the door. He was known for locking doors after the first 10 minutes of class, ‘If you can’t show up to class on time, you shouldn’t come at all.’ Your shoulder bag continued to hit your back as you ran, just turn one more corner and-

“Ah, Miss Y/n, thank you for gracing us with your presence,” He feigned a smile. “You are late… again,” He looked down at you from the doorway. “I have half a mind to close this door, if you can give me a reason why I shouldn’t, I’ll let you in and rip up this detention slip I have here,” He held up the parchment.

“Professor, please, you have to understand- I have Charms before this class, and that’s on the other side of the school-”

“I know the layout of the school, Y/l/n. I asked for a reason, not an excuse.”

“Professor Slughorn-”

“You may come in, but you have detention this weekend-”

“I-”

“Would you like it to be the weekend after, too?”

You bit your tongue, “No.”

“Come in quickly and quietly.”

You said nothing and walked in, keeping your head low, knowing everyone was most likely looking at you. You looked up to find a seat to see that one of two spots were open- One next to Alaric, who was smirking at you, or Remus, one of the so called ‘Marauders’. You chose the latter, passing Alaric who just scoffed. “Is this seat taken?” The boy looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Uh, no, you can take it.”

“Thank you,” You quickly sat down as Slughorn began the lesson for the day. He went to talk about the potion the class would be attempting. You had zoned out, overthinking the interaction you had had with Slughorn only a short while ago.

“Y/l/n,” Your head shot up, “Can you tell me what potion we are making today?” You swallowed, looking at the board behind him for help.

“Draught of Peace…?”

“Correct,” He shuffled in front of the board, blocking the words written. “And can you possibly tell me, of the five ingredients needed for this potion, which of the five are not powdered?”

‘Fuck,’ Just as you were about to give up, you felt a tap on your elbow. You subtly looked down to see a slip of paper… ‘syrup of hellebore and valerian root’ was just barely legible. “Um, is it Valerian Root?”

“And?”

“And…” You looked at the paper once more, “Syrup of Hellebore,” He seemed satisfied with your answer and turned back to the board, announcing that the class would have to pick a partner to work with. Once he was done, he sat down at his desk and began writing Godric knows what. The rest of the class took this as a sign to get up and pick their partner. As you turned to Remus to thank him, Alaric walked up to you and demanded you be partners with him. “Thanks, but no thanks, Alaric.”

“Why?? You got a boyfriend or somethin’?”

“N-”

“Yes, actually,” Your eyes widened as you looked at the source of the voice.

“Are you joking?” Alaric scoffed, “Lupin is your boyfriend?” This got the attention of a few others, namely, the rest of the Marauders.

You looked at Remus, smiled, and then looked back at Alaric. “Yes, actually. And I would appreciate it if you’d leave,” Alaric, clearly agitated, left stomping. You turned to Remus, lowering your voice enough so that only he could hear, “I owe you my life,” He laughed quietly. “Seriously, I do. With the seat-”

“It’s just a seat-”

“Then the ingredients, and now this? Genuinely, thank you, Remus.”

“It’s uh- It’s no problem,” The corner of his mouth raised into a half smile. You continued to stare at each other until a hand dropped on each of your shoulders, you both jumped at the sudden contact.

“Moony,” James looked at him, “Were you not planning on telling us about your pretty girlfriend?” He looked at you and winked.

“Well-”

“That would be my fault-” You saved him. Peter and Sirius came over and began leaning on the table, listening in. “I asked if we could keep it between us, at least for a little while.”

“And why’s that, love?” James continued to look at you.

“Oh, um, it’s kind of embarrassing…” They looked at you expectantly, “Rem’s actually my first relationship.”

“How long have you guys-”

“And that’s the end of class,” Slughorn announced. You never thought you’d be glad to hear Slughorn’s voice before now. “You should already have your partners, for tomorrow we will begin with the Draught of Peace.”

“We’ll leave you two be,” James looked at his friends and signaled for them to leave. Waiting until the class was near empty, Remus stood up, you followed.

“I am so sorry-”

“Don’t be, if anything I should be sorry. I just said it without thinking, I’m sorry, he was just acting like a complete git. That doesn’t excuse it but- your boyfriend is probably going to find out-”

“Remus-”

“I am so sorry-”

“Remus,” You stopped in the middle of the near empty hallway and he stopped too. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You- You don’t? I could’ve sworn...”

“In fact, you saved me today.”

“I told you it was nothing-”

“I know, but I’m referring to the whole, ‘boyfriend’, thing,” You began walking and he followed. “That kid, Alaric, has been harassing me since the beginning of the year. Maybe me having a ‘boyfriend’ will help get him off my back… Which, now that I think about it, I don’t know how I’m going to keep pretending you’re my boyfriend.”

“What do you mean? Also, what’s your next class?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“Same here, I’ll walk you.”

“Thank you, and I mean like- We’re not actually dating.”

“...We could pretend…?... At least until that guy starts to leave you alone.”

You looked at him, “You’d do that?”

“I mean,” He avoided eye contact as he led you down the long corridors, “Would it be so bad? It’s not like I have anything better to do,” He smiled.

“But, do realize, we’d have to go on dates, albeit fake dates, but just to keep up appearances.”

“I know,” He nodded. “We’ll talk ‘bout it more later, yeah?” He walked into the class. You smiled and followed suit.

“We’ve been dating how long?” He continued to quizzed you as the two of you walked to the Great Hall for lunch.

“Two months.”

“Good.”

“How did we meet?” You asked him.

“You’re late everyday to potions,”

“Okay, calm down-”

“Because of your tardiness, I couldn’t help but take notice.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

He laughed and asked another question, “Alright and how did I ask you out?”

“You didn’t. I asked you-”

“No-”

“Yes-”

“No-”

“Oh my god, our first argument.”

“C’mon, they’re waving us over,” He said nothing else but instead grabbed your hand and led you to the table. He sat down first, making room for you to sit as well.

“So,” Sirius looked at you, “How’s the lovely couple doing today?”

“Doing alright, thank you,” You smiled and grabbed Remus’s hand under the table. You saw Remus look at you from the corner of your eye but you continued to talk to Sirius. “How are you?”

“Swell. Now, how long have you been dating?”

“About two months now? Right, Rem?”

He looked at you and you looked back, “Yeah,” He gave you a small smile. “We met back in September, in the beginning of the year, and by November we had already been together a month.”

“That’s pretty fast, don’t you think?” Sirius said staring into your eyes.

“You would know, right? I mean, a different girl every few weeks? Don’t you think that’s pretty fast?”

“What are you implying?” You felt Remus squeeze your hand lightly.

“I think you know what I’m implying,” You held eye contact with Black.

He broke out an award winning smile, looking around and then settled on Remus, “I like her.”

“I’d say that went well,” You linked arms with your ‘boyfriend’ as you left the Great Hall. Everyone went their separate ways, James and Sirius to their shared class, Peter and Lily to theirs.

“Yeah, it did,” He walked you to your next class, which, coincidentally, was the same as his. “They’re probably going to grill me later though.”

“I mean, you remember the plan, right? If anything, make stuff up and just tell me as soon as you can.”

“And when’s our scheduled break-up?” He held open the door for you to walk through.

“Thank you. And it’s February 17th, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” He nodded. “What an odd date, and only three days after Valentine’s Day.”

You laughed, taking a seat. Remus took the one next to you. “I know, but we need angst.”

“What for?” He took out his books and handed you a quill.

“Thanks, here,” You handed him an extra ink pot, he thanked you as you continued. “The angst makes it more believable. Picture this, you spend Valentine’s day with your significant other, it’s one of the best days you’ve ever had- Only to decide a couple days later that you’ve grown apart. The love isn’t there anymore.”

“Wow,” He stared at the blackboard as the teacher began writing. “Did you just come up with that?”

You just smiled in response.

#marauders au #marauders #marauders x reader #james potter #sirius black #x reader #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #harry potter #hp #harry potter x reader #lily evans #mary mcdonald #marlene mckinnon #lucius malfoy #lucius x reader

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owletstarlet · 4 years ago

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ffxv- forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue- chapter 1

“The next block over from here there’s this great little—ohmygods, you’re the Prince.”

Well, fuck.

“Says who?” Noctis counters, tiredly.

“Says your face,” the guy sputters.

(or, the Moulin-Rouge-flavored AU that nobody asked for. Ao3 link in the notes.)

The table’s sticky, Noctis realizes too late as he’s peeling the sleeve of his jacket off of it. Drink’s not bad, though. Sweeter than he was expecting, but with enough of a paint-thinner aftertaste to it that he knows it’s doing its job. And literally nobody’s giving him a second glance at the moment, either, and that’s more than worth the very specific pitch of this music that’s sort of chipping away at his skull, or the vaguely harrowing feeling of so many bodies packed into one room.

“Not your thing, huh?”

Shit.

Noctis doesn’t turn, doesn’t give him more than a sidelong once-over to make sure he shouldn’t be imminently getting the hells out of here. He doesn’t take in much more than a shock of blond hair, a clipboard, a pair of glasses.

It’s probably fine.

Noctis doesn’t confirm or deny it, just sort of waves a hand at the commotion on the stage. “It’s a lot of…” Thrusting, his brain supplies, helpfully. Body glitter.

“It’s definitely ‘a lot of’ a lot of things.” The guy sounds amused.

“Hm.”

“…not much of a talker, are you?”

Noct bites the inside of his cheek, keeps his face neutral, hears a voice from somehwere between his ears that sounds an awful lot like Gladio’s reminding him that just because he’s in a shitty mood doesn’t mean he should be shitty for no reason to people that aren’t. Damn but this guy’s got a chipper voice, though.

“Well,” said guy goes on, “if you came to see Nea, I can go and—”

The rest of his words are cut off by a bang that Noctis feels as much as he hears, that has him halfway out of his seat with his heart suddenly rammed up his throat before he realizes that it was the sound of an elbow coming down hard on the table.

“Ah—shit, sorry ‘bout that!”

When Noctis turns to face him fully then, it’s to find the guy propped up on his elbow on the table, looking startled himself.

Noctis gets a better look at him, frowns. “Are you okay?”

He looks very much not Lucian, Noctis thinks, Niff maybe, if the light hair and eyes are anything to go by, and the freckles that stand out like pinpricks under the colorful lights. But a good chunk of the clientele around them look like foreigners, so do more than half the performers onstage at the moment. Not unusual, considering the district Noctis had wandered into not entirely on purpose.

His face looks open and friendly, but he seems distinctly unwell—there’s something sunken and shadowy in the corners of his face, in the hollows of his eyes and under his cheekbones. Noctis can’t tell if his pallor is just from the lights just washing him out, but it’s definitely not hot enough in here for him to be sweating like that. His hoodie hangs off his shoulders a bit, and it looks like his hair had been carefully gelled up at some point, but had gotten rumpled and half-deflated like he’d slept on it. His fringe is sticking to his forehead, hanging a bit in front of the thick-rimmed glasses.

“Yup,” he’s saying, a smile slotting into place that seems unforced but a little incongruous. “Yeah. Head rush, is all. Sorry.” He’s perched on the stool across from Noctis now, sliding his clipboard onto the table. His arm is trembling, very slightly, where it’s resting on the table.

Noctis feels his mouth twist, and he slides the still-untouched ice water they’d brought him across the table.

The guy blinks, looks at the water and then Noctis’ face, smile slipping into something marginally less comfortable. “Oh. Nah, you’re good, dude. Thanks. Just. Gimme a sec?”

“Sure,” Noctis says. He doesn’t take the water back. He peers down at the clipboard. It’s not anything comprehensible to him, a lot of x’s and arrows, circles and boxes, only a few words scrawled illegibly into the margins here and there. “You working?” he asks.

“Ah, yeah,” the guy says, tilting the clipboard a bit so he can see it better. “It’s choreography. Kind of. Nothing super inspired tonight, though.”

“Oh. So…dancing?”

“Yup.” He jabs a thumb at the stage, expression settling into something much more relaxed, if a bit sheepish. “I’m supposed to be up there right now, actually, but. My stomach’s being kinda weird, and I don’t think people are paying to see me puke all over everyone else, so. Dahlia stepped in for me.” He points to center stage, where a now very much topless woman with dark lipstick and a halo of brown curls is doing something that looks physically impossible involving a folding chair. “It was her night off and all, too.”

Noctis looks from the woman on the stage, to this disheveled guy who looks like he’s going to pitch over in his seat, and back again. He must be pretty obvious about it, because the guy chuckles a bit. “Uh-huh. Hard to believe, right? I promise I clean up nicer than this.”

And Noctis genuinely has no idea what to say to that. He takes a sip of his drink.

“Uh. You know, if this isn’t your scene, and you weren’t here to see Nea, there’s quieter places to go get plastered around here. And cheaper. The next block over from here there’s this great little—ohmygods, you’re the Prince.”

Well, fuck.

“Says who?” Noctis counters, tiredly.

“Says your face,” the guy sputters. After a pause, adds: “And the fact that you keep checking if your drink is spiked.” He taps the tabletop with one finger, where two little plastic tabs are lying used, the pale blue color of one end indicating safety.

Noctis resists the urge to roll his eyes; takes another, much larger gulp of the aforementioned drink. He’d had the tabs in his wallet.

“I can, like…leave now. If you want.” He’s already standing up, and already catching himself on the edge of the table with one hand.

“What? No, you’re—”

“There you are, asshole.” A heavy hand on his shoulder, then Noctis is wheeling around to look up at a very unimpressed-looking Gladio.

“Uh-huh,” Noctis mutters. “Here I am.”

Honestly, Noctis thinks he ought to be impressed with himself that he got as much time as he did, considering the genius move of having used his subway card when he’d taken off out of sheer muscle memory. He’d left his phone—and its state-of-the-art tracking capabilities—charging by his bed, though, and he’d gotten three entire hours out of it. It probably would’ve been less if he hadn’t wandered for 20 minutes after getting off at a completely random subway station, or had tried to go somewhere quieter and more predictable than this, with less flashy neon or people losing their clothes.

“Who’s blondie?” Gladio asks, raising an eyebrow. “You work here?”

The blondie in question’s eyes go very round—a pretty common reaction to Gladio’s entire everything, really. “Uh-huh.” To his credit, his voice cracks only very slightly. “I dance.”

Gladio gives him an appraising look, glances at the stage, then shrugs. “Oh,” is all he says. “Nice.” If doesn’t believe it, he gives no indication.

“Uh. Are you a bodyguard or something?”

Gladio’s eyes narrow at Noctis, who just shrugs—the jig’s up. “Or something,” he parrots. “Speaking of,” he adds, rounding on Noctis, voice dropping into a growl, “I don’t have to tell you what a fucking security nightmare this is.”

“Yup.” He makes no move to stand. “Planning on telling my dad? Or yours?”

He scoffs. “Y’know, getting my own ass kicked over this might just be worth watching you get grounded like a high schooler playing hooky.”

“Do it, then.”

They both know he won’t. Check and mate.

“We’re leaving,” he says, shoving at Noct’s shoulder. “Iggy’s waiting in the car.” A pause, and his face changes. “You know he’s planning on apologizing to you. And if you don’t say it back, I’m gonna kick your teeth in. You were being a dick.”

“Yeah, well.” Noct would contend he wasn’t the only one, but he was the one that went AWOL and probably (absolutely) gave them both an aneurysm over it, and had them crossing half the city to find him. Which constitutes a dick move. That hadn’t been the point, though; the point had been the bone-deep urge to just be away, just for a bit, before he could say anything else he’d regret. But he could stand to apologize to the both of them for the runaround, at least.

Gladio’s giving him a long, hard look, now. “Fine,” Noctis mumbles, fishing out his wallet.

“On the house.” The words are abrupt, a little too loud to be warranted despite the room’s overall noise level, and Gladio and Noct both look over at him.

“Uh, I mean. It’s covered. You can go.”

“Okay.” Gladio raises an eyebrow. “Thanks. Got a name, kid?” Noct knows it’s less out of actual interest and more as a rote point of security; if anybody needed to be questioned later on, they’d have a starting point.

“It’s Prompto.”

***

This time, Noct drove. Gladio had worked out pretty quick where they were headed when Noct suggested they go for drinks after they’d trained late.

Gladio doesn’t have to be thrilled about it. But at the very least, Noct’s got some supervision, this time around.

He should’ve put up more of a fight, probably, but it’s not like he could’ve stopped the damned car.

And here they are. Club Aurentia, the sign cheerily proclaims, complete with a flickering neon clementine in the corner. The building’s old, not exactly dilapidated but definitely not retro-on-purpose. Plenty of people are coming and going through the tarnished brass doors, or milling about outside, even on a weeknight.

“You do know how very obviously a brothel this joint is, right.” No shade, just a statement of fact.

Noct huffs a short sigh through his nose, drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “Yeah. Iggy was pretty damn clear on that point. Not like that’s why we’re here.”

“Still don’t get why it’s gotta be we anyways. If you’re really that worried about the tab for one drink, it’s not like it’d take both of us to go settle it.”

Noct just shrugs.

Fucker.

It’s not like it’s a bad idea to make sure the charge is covered, arguably worth the trip across the city, even; if he’d been recognized they didn’t need anyone claiming that the Prince is the type to skip out on a bill. The employee had seemed like a decent enough guy, and herding Noct back to the car had been a more pressing priority at the time than any overpriced cocktail. But yeah, ideally, better to head off the issue.

Which is a one-person job.

“This about that kid from the other night? You worried or something?”

Or something.

Huh.

Noct makes a noncommittal sound, suddenly seeming quite fascinated by a loose thread on his sleeve. “I mean, if he’s there we might as well thank him.”

“Fine. But you know you’re not here to socialize though, right. We pay, we leave. You already got recognized once, and if word gets out you already know who’s gonna wind up doing the damage control. With time he doesn’t have.”

The Citadel’s entire team of publicists aren’t worth shit by comparison, honestly. And just because Iggy doesn’t exactly know they’re here right now doesn’t mean there’s not an 80-20 chance he’ll figure it out anyways, even if precisely nothing happens.

“I know,” Noct mutters, and for whatever it’s worth it sounds like he does in fact know. And probably still feels like an ass for blowing up at Iggy the other day.

Which, good.

Gladio sighs, yanks open the car door. “We going, or what?”

***

The lobby’s not as packed as it was before—that was Saturday night, and it’s Tuesday now—but there’s still a good line snaking its way up to the ticket counter. Looks like a working-class crowd for the most part; the easy chatter between friends or coworkers washing over the narrow space. And Noct doesn’t exactly look out of place; he’s in a hoodie and jeans that don’t look as expensive as they are, and there’s about as many Lucians here as foreigners. But he looks stiff and ill-at-ease on the old chintzy carpet, staring off into nothing, the yellowed light from both the dusty chandelier overhead as well as the strands of what look like multicolored Solstice lights on the far wall glinting off his hair.

Gladio elbows him. “What, you nervous?”

“About what?” Noct shoots back, under his breath.

“Exactly.”

***

“Actually, we’re here to settle a bill.”

The woman selling the tickets raises one pristinely-shaped eyebrow at them, before wordlessly waving them over towards the other woman behind the desk. She looks foreign, too; ivory skin standing out starkly against her black blouse, slate-gray hair pinned back into a complicated updo.

She glances up from her clipboard, green eyes flat and hard as she takes them in. “Yeah?”

She doesn’t say anything for a long moment after Gladio repeats himself, but her gaze immediately flicks towards Noct, and narrows.

“You here to see Prompto?”

Gladio shrugs, not sure if it’s hilarious or worrying that the kid had obviously gone and told his supervisor. “Nah, we’ll just—”

“He’s on in ten,” she says, abruptly, cutting him off. “You wanna talk, you’ll have to wait. And he’s booked up tonight, so make it quick. That is if he’s up for it.” She turns, calls over her shoulder. “Biggs.”

The guy who emerges from the door behind her has an easy stance, a relatively friendly expression, but he’s keen-eyed, and the jacket that’s one size too big would suggest he’s packing.

“There’s no loitering in my lobby. Front section’s a hundred crown each. Nobody’ll bother you there, Highness.”

Noct, to his credit, doesn’t visibly react to his title. But it is very clear he wasn’t planning on having to sit through another show. “No, it’s fine, I’ve got the nine crown for the drink.”

“Biggs’ll go with you, make sure you’re left alone,” she says, tone banking no argument, before pointedly turning on her heel and striding through the door behind her.

That’s that, then. If they hang around out here any longer, Noct definitely is gonna get recognized.

There’s worse ways to spend the evening, Gladio thinks as they follow Biggs through the double doors. As long as this guy doesn’t try shoot them in the head point blank in front of a large crowd of spectators, Gladio’s pretty damn sure he could take him down if he needed to.

But Noct looks downright pained as he takes his seat at their table, ten feet from the stage.

“Think she just wanted our money,” Gladio tells him, grabbing the menu and scanning it. Drinks are off the table (for him, at least, though Noct looks like he’s gonna need to knock back at least three to survive the next forty-five minutes), but a plate of wings doesn’t sound half bad.

Noct doesn’t respond. Neither does Biggs, but Gladio hears his soft snort.

***

It’s a good time, really. Dizzying sprays of confetti, bass-heavy radio remix after remix he can feel in his gut, and the loose effortless charm of a dozen guys and girls in various states of undress.

He can see why Prompto’s their headliner. It’s not even that he’s the most eye-catching, really, though he is hardly recognizable compared to the bedraggled, barely-upright kid they’d met the other night--either he’s better now, or he’s buried those dark circles under a shitload of concealer. It’s the precision of his movements, the lightning-quick steps, fluid grace that’s impossible to look away from.

Noct’s certainly looking.

“Flexible little guy, isn’t he,” Gladio says, applauding at the end of a number.

“Hm.”

Noct’s still tensed up, very much so, fingers gripping the table’s edge so hard it might disintegrate, so obviously out-of-sync with the entire situation that Gladio was going to take mercy on him and suggest they take off once they’d eaten, bill be damned.

But he hasn’t taken his eyes off Prompto once.

“You smitten yet?” he asks, snatching another wing off the plate and double checking the exits—nobody’s come or gone—then glancing over at Biggs. Biggs just gives him an even look right back; he doesn’t seem to particularly mind that he’s being surveilled, and Gladio’s sure the guy’s doing the same to him.

Noct flips him off, gulps his drink. The next number starts.

It makes sense this kid’s a choreographer, he thinks. He knows what he’s doing. Gladio might not know shit about dance aside from the obligatory ballroom stuff he’d been made to practice with Iris as a kid to get them both through boring state functions, but he definitely knows a thing or two about controlled, deliberate movement.

Movement which, at the moment, apparently includes jutting out your hips gratuitously and feeling up your own ass.

He does look good, though, dancing aside; hair meticulously gelled into a perfect swoop, hoops in his ears, bits of gold leaf stuck around his eyes. He’s not tall, but he’s got a dancer’s build, lithe and strong, and those heels aren’t hurting any. The outfit’s some drapey orange and gold lamé situation, complete with shorts that look painted on him, strategically placed rhinestones and body glitter scattered across his skin.

It takes a few minutes to notice the scars. The few spots on his back, a handful across his arms and legs. It’s not the color of the skin—it’s obviously concealed, and the light catches the sparkly bits of him just right to draw the eye away—but skin pulls and puckers sometimes, just slightly, not quite moving with the rest of him. Gods know that outfit’s not covering much, but he’s the only one who’s not shedding any layers up here, and Gladio wonders if there’s more beneath that shimmery fabric.

Well. Rough part of town.

It’s not until the very end, at what passes for a curtain call at this place when the lights aren’t quite so bright, that Prompto finally seems to notice them. His expression shifts, just a bit, from the performative but comfortable smile that had stayed firmly pasted on his lips throughout the show. For a split second, his eyes are rounder, the curve of his mouth more uncertain than pleased when his gaze meets Noct’s. But the moment passes, and he’s grinning again, arm-in-arm with the other beaming, panting dancers as cheers ring out around them. Twenty seconds later and the stage is empty.

“Have fun?” Biggs asks, eventually. It’s the first time he’s spoken.

“Uh-huh,” Gladio says, easily, at the same time that Noct says, “It was fine.” God, the kid looks constipated.

“Great. Wait here.” He stands. “Gotta wait for Nea’s say-so if you wanna see Prom, but. He’s gonna be pretty busy after this.”

Noct watches Biggs’ retreating back, an odd look on his face.

“Do you actually wanna see him?” Gladio asks, sliding the still barely-touched plate of gyoza he’d ordered for Noct across the table. “I mean. Your eyes were glued to the kid.” He smirks, waggles an eyebrow, and it earns him a spectacular scowl.

“…dunno,” he says at last, shoulders deflating, jaw working as he stares at the condensation rolling down the side of his glass. “Maybe he wouldn’t want to be bothered if he’s that…busy.”

“Well.” Gladio plucks a gyoza from the plate he’d just handed over. “What he’s not gonna want, probably, is for you to act all weird about his overnight gigs. You knew.”

“I know,” he mutters, just this side of defensive.

“Ain’t like it’s a crime, either, as long as Blondie’s not committing tax fraud.”

“I know.” Noct sighs. “Can’t hurt to see if he’s okay, I guess. Seems like a lot if he was that sick the other night.”

“Yeah.”He pauses, taking in Noct’s stiff shoulders, the full-body tension that’s gonna leave him achey all over in the morning. “Last chance to bail, though. There’s no actual reason we gotta do this part.” He nods at the empty stage. “Looked like he’ll live.”

Another tight shrug, another swig of his drink and a terse “might as well,” and alright, looks like they are doing this part.

***

Ten minutes later they’re shuffled back through now mostly-empty lobby—most of the patrons are either drinking or or migrating to the dance floor now—and led through a side door into a wood-paneled hallway.

Biggs’ hands are full; a steaming cup of instant chickatrice noodle in one hand and a packet of saltines in the other, a sports drink tucked up under his armpit. “He’s already waiting for you,” he tells them, as they come to a halt in front of one of the doors deep into the hallway. “He’s gotta eat something, though. And Nea said you get ten minutes.”

“Guessing you’re here to enforce that,” Gladio says, not caring if it’s blunt.

“And to make sure no one bothers him,” Biggs replies, calmly, meeting his eyes.

He has to remind himself not to bristle at the implications of that on Noct’s behalf—these people don’t know him, and they’re probably not bursting at the seams with fealty toward the Crown, either. The treaty with Niflheim is tenuous, barely older than Noct himself, and the war beforehand had been ugly for both sides. Most Imperial immigrants are refugees, or the children of refugees, having had no choice but to flee to the country that had fared marginally better when their own had become so stripped of resources. And they ain’t exactly living the high life, here.

Noct must’ve realized the same thing, because even though his arms are crossed now, all he says is, “We won’t.”

It’s a cramped sitting room of some kind, both tacky as hell with bright orange walls and décor as loud as the rest of this place, but cozy with its low lighting and squashy armchairs. And no exits but the way they came in. Well. If Gladio needs to pull the plug on this shit a minute in, he’s got no problem with that. Biggs had lost the jacket, at some point, and if he is still armed, it’s not obvious. But Gladio’s been put through the ringer learning how to recognize and disarm assassins of all varieties. And Noct’s not exactly helpless either—quite the opposite—if it comes down to it. Doesn’t mean he can relax any, and if anything happens it is squarely on him, but it’s something, anyways. Damn kid’s gonna be the death of him.

Blondie’s seated with his shins pressed up against a glass coffee table. He’s in a pair of beat-up sweats, but his hair and makeup still look pretty much flawless in the dim light of the room, even the gold leaf framing his lashes doesn’t seem to have budged any.

He makes no move to stand at the sight of Noct; the smile he slaps on looks taut, maybe wary. He meets Gladio’s eyes a grand total of once before decidedly looking anywhere but.

“Hi again,” he says, with a gung-ho sort of cheer that can’t quite seem to get its legs under it, an awkward little wave to match. “Didn’t think you’d be back around…your highness,” he tacks on, like an afterthought.

Gladio frowns. The kid seems winded, words coming out a little breathy and odd. And yeah, he just had one hell of a workout, but twenty minutes on and his chest definitely shouldn’t be rising and falling that rapidly.

Biggs plops down into the chair beside him and sets the soup and crackers in front of him, repeating the directive to eat before anybody can say anything else. And Gladio thinks Noct’s concern, in its veneer of studious indifference, wasn’t misplaced after all. Guy had looked like roadkill a couple nights ago, anyways. He doesn’t, now—mostly he just looks glittery—but still.

Noct sits. Gladio does not. “Didn’t mean to crash your break time,” Noct says. Gods, he looks uncomfortable. “Sorry. You should eat.”

“Thanks.” The kid raises the soup cup to his lips, but doesn’t take an actual sip, swallowing reflexively like the smell of it alone is enough to turn his stomach. He takes a careful sip of the sports drink instead. It’s a brand that Gladio knows for a fact tastes like piss, but is damn good for electrolytes. Beside him, Biggs’ brows draw together, but he says nothing.

“So, uh,” Prompto starts, after a moment. “You have a better time tonight?”

When Noct doesn’t answer right away, Gladio feels a twinge of sympathy for the kid.

“Was fun,” Gladio says, honestly, with a shrug. “You’re pretty good.”

Noct takes his lead, fortunately, and his “yeah” comes out only slightly strained.

“Really?” he says, brows shooting up like maybe something’s not quite adding up here, eyes flicking from Gladio’s face to Noct’s, but he doesn’t look displeased. “Whoa. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Nea said you wanted to see me?” he asks, and before Gladio can clarify that that’s not quite what’s happening here, he goes on. “If you were wanting to book, I’m pretty full up tonight, but. Uh. I don’t mind rearranging some stuff? Seeing as you’re, y’know.” He gestures vaguely at Noct. “But you gotta work that out with Nea, she handles most of the scheduling.”

And Noct, hilariously, says, “Book…what?”

Prompto blinks. “…me? Unless you wanted someone else?”

Another one-point-five seconds and Noct’s brain seems to catch up to his mouth. He flushes, spectacularly. “Wha—no.” It comes out sharp, louder than he probably meant it to, and Prompto actually starts a bit. “That’s. No,” he says, quieter now, staring very hard at his own knees, looking like he might spontaneously combust and also that he’d probably be fine with that. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“…um. Okay.” A long pause, and Gladio can see the shift in Prompto’s face from puzzlement to something like unease. He might be blushing, too, but the makeup makes it hard to tell. But Biggs is grinning now, clearly at Noct’s expense, and Gladio can’t blame him because he is about two inches away himself from absolutely pissing himself laughing.

He tries to keep it out of his voice when he says, “He came to pay for that drink, is all. And see if you were feeling any better, if you were around.”

“Oh.” He gives them both a smile that’s nervous around the edges, a little wrong-footed but not insincere, drumming his fingers on his knee. “I am. Thanks.”

Biggs raises an eyebrow, gives a pointed look at the soup cup growing cold on the table, but says nothing.

“But,” Prompto says, frowning, “if that was all, then why’d Nea…” He trails off, and Gladio can see the realization hit him. He wonders if they’re the same conclusions he’d come to himself. To see just what they were after, for starters. To keep the sudden appearance of the Prince from causing an ordeal at her establishment. To collect their money, while she was at it. “Sorry,” he mutters, finally, gaze falling as though he’d had any part in this at all.

“It’s fine,” Noct tells him. He looks only marginally less like he wants to die than he did before, but he sounds genuine, at least. “Not like anyone warned you.”

“I’m…” Prompto starts, then lets out a shaky breath. Then, with a kind of dawning horror, “You’re not about to, like. Lock me up for soliciting royalty, or something?” Adds, under his breath, “Shiva, I just solicited royalty…”

Gladio holds back his snort, wants to tell him that repeating the offense out loud isn’t exactly gonna help his case. Instead, he says, “Relax, kid. We know the laws.” Well. Sort of. Brothels are legal is about the extent of his own knowledge; maybe soliciting royalty was actually a crime. Iggy would know, probably. Freakish knowledge of obscure laws is his forte. “Anyways. You thought it was him soliciting you, you were just doing your job.”

Noct gives him a withering look, which is pretty much the best thing ever when he still looks like a beet. And Prompto does look distinctly salmon-ish now, too, despite the foundation piled on thick enough to blot out most of those freckles. He’s picking at the edges of an old striped sweatband he’s wearing, and Gladio thinks of that gigantic jeweled cuff he’d been wearing on the same wrist, earlier.

Nobody says anything, after that. Prince Charmless can’t string two words together to smooth the situation over, because of course he can’t, and Prompto’s moved on to fiddling with the label of his sports drink, not looking at any of them. Biggs raises an eyebrow at Gladio, a silent question—which of us is gonna end this first—when Noct’s phone goes off.

It’s his text tone, a bright handful of eight-bit notes, and Gladio wonders if it’s Iggy. It’s probably Iggy.

But Prompto looks up, at the sound. He’s smiling faintly. “Heh. Level up.”

Noct’s head snaps up so fast that Gladio almost hears it.

“You play King’s Knight?”

***

(to be continued-- many, many thanks to @taizi for listening to me spitball about this one and giving me that sweet sweet validation--

#cw alcohol #cw eventual frank discussions of consent #not a deathfic #owlet's fanfic #in this house we respect sex workers #final fantasy xv fanfiction #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv #noctis lucis caelum #ffxv #prompto argentum #promptis

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godsg111rl · 3 years ago

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sometimes I find myself thinking about my former girl friends…

the super insecure one hell bent on getting revenge for spilled milk from high school that drugged me and when I confronted her about it, she said ‘happy early birthday’ then proceeded to ghost me??? I heard life’s been kicking your ass toots.

the one who thought I was her personal chauffeur and if my life didn’t revolve around her, or I hung out with other friends, she’d literally throw herself pity parties and ghost me for periods at a time.. like you are a grown ass woman lmao why can’t you communicate? I have never been one to chase friends or a friendship. Bc frankly, I don’t care and I’m a people magnet. You could’ve been real and spoke your peace instead of disappearing into thin air???

the confused one who wanted to marry me and get a house together… but only bc her bf wanted the same from me LMAO… both of y’all sick for the record.

the one that threw a party on my birthday that wasn’t for me… and you can’t forget her sidekick.. the one that so called respected my art but wasn’t willing to pay me my worth… you are both welcome for my expanding your music palettes

the unhinged and completely delusional one that compromised my freedom and tried to fight me like the psychopath she is… all because I arrived late and wasn’t going to let another grown ass woman talk to me like I was her infant child… then proceeded to hold my equipment hostage. Sis if you’re reading this, just know that I’m coming back for my belonging and your Christmas gift this year is being served by LEO.

the lost one that chased social status so bad that she’d always have a new bestie every week and of course she was going around telling all of our business to the next bitch… parrot. Real big bird energy. It’s funny because she’s still around and still believes I trust her with my secrets and business. Read the room.

the delusional one that tried to convince people that I wanted to be her but now her obsessed and weird ass won’t stop copying me. It’s also chef’s kiss that she’s convinced herself I chased her ex as if I ever gave a fuck enough LMAO. entire time that man been in my inbox begging me for a gram of pussy bc you started a fan club for me and put him on. could’ve had a friend but you made me your enemy. real sick ´babe.´

the one that cut me off because I was ‘insincere’ and would ‘use’ her LMAO. I asked the girl how I’d use her after spending days on the phone with her while she had manic episodes, and this girl had the audacity to say, ‘you always ask me if I know a plug.’ LMFAOOO like seriously. PUHHHLEASE. This was someone I was treating to lunches regularly, providing moral support for, and even helping out financially. But my asking where the plug’s at is what was giving leech energy? When you, yourself, smoke every day?! Big yike.

the one that lied to me about her girlfriend being just a friend when I didn’t want more than a friendship with her anyways… just for the girlfriend that she wasn’t claiming to follow me on all my socials and start acting like a weird ass bitch lmaooo. So then when I asked why the weird energy I got blocked by both of their weird asses 😭

Truly… reflecting on the women I chose to surround myself with in the past makes me cringe lmao. No, seriously. It makes me question if I ever loved myself to have allowed those people to sit at the same table as me (and the answer has to be no cause ain’t no way). I attracted a lot of energy demons in the past… People that latched onto me liked my light and loved how I made them feel like that bitch (bc who wouldn’t hype their friends?!…i mean unless you’re a hater lmaooo).

I was genuine and transparent with those people. I showed up for them even at times when I couldn’t show up for myself. I gave, I gave, I gave… even when I had nothing to give to myself. And thus, I taught others that they held more priority in my life than I do. I set 0 boundaries with people and in conclusion, they thought I was the one…. But now everybody knows better. Or at least, they will.

I´m so proud of the group of friends that I have right now. the ones that pour into me equally and don’t just take, the ones that aren’t yes men and will let me know when I’ve fucked up. the ones I can actually learn new things from and vice versa. The ones I can call on no matter what time of the day. The ones I break bread with. The ones I share tears with. The ones I actually let get to know me in all of my light and glory without fear that they’ll try to run off with my stuff (figuratively but also literally though lmaooo). Those are my 4Ls.

I’m going to continue to choose my friends wisely. I don’t care for that shallow shit. It doesn’t matter what you look like. That heart better be pure or you can join my graveyard of bitches that’ll never have access to me on this journey again. SKY DADDY SAID THEY CANT COME.

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writing-for-amusement · 5 years ago

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Commission for Confidence, 4

Summary: Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: Okay, so the end of this chapter is admittedly a little choppy, but if I had included more, it would have been probably unnecessarily long (especially since I’ve kinda developed a pattern for myself with length of chapters). I’m so glad that people seem to be enjoying my work!! I’m thinking of posting some other stuff sometime soon, so I don’t burnout on this story, but idk yet. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, please give me feedback, I crave it.

I feel like I should mention that I try to be as neutral with looks as possible. Even if you have darker skin, you still blush, even if it might not be visible. Hence why I often refer to it as “heat rushing to your face” or whatever, but I try to not mention how red it makes Y/N look. If anyone has advice on how to do it better, please let me know!

Also, if you want to be in the taglist, just let me know!!

Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @scatterbrainedgenius, @jordyns-library, @wildfirecracker

Word Count: 2557

Warnings: mental illness (depression and anxiety), brief mention of deceased loved one, insecurity, lots of awkwardness, awkward “flirting” (??), Peter being a cutie pie as always

Peter helped you gather your things and waited patiently as you gave a bright thank you to the owner, Morgana. Then, he was holding the door open to you with a bright smile.

“So,” you prompted as you both started towards the subway.

“So,” he echoed, sending you a playful grin.

“We talked so much about me,” you pointed out, “so why don’t you tell me more about you? If I may be so bold, I’d like to become actual friends with you, instead of just minor acquaintances.”

Peter turned to face you, walking sideways, and was beaming so bright you thought you’d need sunglasses. “Really??? I feel the same way!”

You blushed slightly, looking at the ground for a brief moment. “I’m glad,” you admitted in a murmur.

Soon, the two of you were entering the subway, intent on getting back to Queens before the amount of people traveling got worse.

“So,” Peter began, letting you take a seat as he stood in front of you in the rather crowded car, “I’m trying to think of what medium to capture you in.”

You blinked in surprise.

“I mean, there is a raw beauty to just charcoal or regular pencil, but you are so vibrant and gorgeous, I want to do something more.”

Peter was staring out the window in thought as the heat filled your cheeks, neck, and chest. You bit your lip to try and stop the squeal or giggle of happiness from leaking out (you couldn’t tell what it would be, so you kept your mouth shut). You found yourself looking up at Peter, noticing how he himself would make a great model for any type of art.

Brown eyes suddenly looked at yours and you were thankful that the subway was coming to the next stop. It gave you an excuse to look away, his curious gaze making you feel tingles up your spine. As a tired mother entered with two small children in tow, you and another passenger quickly got up and let them take your seats.

Now, you were standing almost chest to chest with Peter Parker. You awkwardly tried to shuffle around him, so that you were standing next to him, but another passenger quickly took that spot. That left you right there, closer to Peter than you thought you’d ever get.

“Hi,” he blushed down at you.

“H-hello,” you stuttered. “So, you were saying?”

Your weak attempt at saving face actually worked, and Peter began to talk you through the pros and cons of other mediums of art. You found yourself to be incredibly intrigued by the way that Peter spoke.

He spoke so passionately that you could basically see the different aspects of each medium before your eyes. You could see brushes of acrylic paint, or the subtle blurring of watercolors, as he went into greater detail than you almost thought possible.

“Of course, photography will always hold a place in my heart, but sometimes you can’t capture the same emotions as you could with actually making the art yourself. The best part of photography, though, is when you—”

Peter was cut off as the subway car jerked and you fell into him in shock. You had never been particularly graceful, but at least this time it wasn’t your fault. You expected to knock him over; he was a fit man, but you knew you had some heft to you, especially with that violent of a jerk. Something like that would make you, or really anyone, knock over even the largest of men, you were certain of it.

To your surprise, Peter caught you easily, not even moving his feet as he was clutching you to his body. His hand was like comforting and warm candle fire on your waist, slowly heating your muscles. Beautiful brown eyes regarded you with concern.

“Are you okay, Y/N? That was quite the jerk. They’re normally not that bad.”

You nodded sheepishly, removing your hand from where it was splayed on his firm chest. You cleared your throat and took a slight step back, nearly regretting it as the warmth seeped out of your waist slowly.

“Thanks, Peter,” you smiled, albeit a little nervously. “I definitely would have fallen over if you weren’t there.”

"Well,” Peter began, smirking at you, “I can tell you that I’ll be here to catch you, anytime you need it.”

You giggled, covering your smile with your hand. “Then I hope you’re around a lot, because I’m the clumsiest person around,” you told him, realizing as soon as it left your mouth that it was incredibly flirty, at least for you.

Peter was looking at you with a look you couldn’t decipher, but his mouth was grinning. “Hey, I won’t complain about that.”

The heat rushed through your body and you looked at the floor, trying to calm your stampeding heart. Your throat felt a little dry, not expecting his response. You looked up and saw a skinny little thing staring at you with contempt, and your heart crashed to the ground.

Your brain quickly clouded over with negative thoughts. Of course, she’s staring, you’d never fit in with a guy like Peter. Look at him, he’s gorgeous and fit. And you are definitely not. She thinks you’re crazy for flirting with him. And you are crazy for flirting with him. He’d never go for a girl like you, you’re not his type.

Now wait just a minute, you interrupted the hissing whisper, how do I know what his type is? You can’t just assume someone’s type, you know.

Doesn’t matter, the hiss replied easily, anything as big and jiggly as you are is never anyone’s type. You should know that by now.

You ended up heaving a sigh, the hissing getting louder and louder in your head. It was blocking out every positive thought you’d ever had about yourself, pointing out the jiggle in your thighs, the fat of your stomach, the stretch marks that decorated your skin. It pointed out how your laugh was too loud, your smile too big, your fingers too fat, your cheeks unnecessarily full. The clouds became a storm, torrential rains freezing your body, turning your blood into the slowest river in the world.

“Hey,” a shining light of a voice broke through the storm, making you look up at Peter. “Are you okay?” he asked, his hand brushing your arm.

The tingles that his touch brought started to drop-kick the clouds from the forefront of your mind. Peter was looking at you in a way you couldn’t quite tell, but it was like he could tell you were upset about yourself, like he would tear the world to pieces to make you feel better. It made your heart crack, fighting to escape your chest and screech to the world that you were beautiful and worthy.

Because that’s how his gaze made you feel.

You suddenly brightened, the clouds on the far horizons of your mind as they always were, but they were done storming and flooding. “Yeah, Peter, I’m alright,” you told him sincerely, a small but genuine smile on your lips.

Peter’s molten brown eyes assessed you critically, making your body warm and thaw from that freezing storm. After a few more moments, and the subway car nearing your stop, Peter seemed content with your answer. He gave you the sweetest smile you’d ever seen.

The car came to a stop and Peter gestured for you to get off the car. As you fought the crowd of people entering, Peter hooked his pinky in yours in order to stay together. It made your stupid heart flutter up to your throat, but you managed to swallow it back down.

The two of you broke through the crowds and Peter unhooked his pinky from yours. The loud pounding of your heart began to quiet as you and Peter made your way out of the subway; the “fresh” air of the outside (as fresh as it could get, of course) helped clear your mind a bit and you relaxed ever so slightly.

Peter started leading the way to his apartment, which was in the same direction as yours. “The place is kinda a mess,” he informed you as you walked next to him, “but it’s not too bad. Mostly just a couple of unfinished works running around.”

“Hey, I don’t mind,” you told him, stepping farther into the sidewalk as a crowd of people walking the opposite direction tried to take over the small space.

“I grew up in Queens,” Peter stated, and when you looked at him, he was scowling slightly, “but lately, all these crowds have been even more rude than usual.”

You chuckled lightly and shrugged your shoulders. “You grew up in Queens, huh? So, you were here when Spider-Man became a thing, yeah?”

If you didn’t know any better, Peter’s shoulders tensed as he waited for the streetlight to change. Then, an almost nervous chuckle flitted over to your ears.

“Yeah, I remember. I saw him swinging around in that cheap ass suit one day after school. How embarrassing for him.” Peter’s ears turned a light pink color.

You hummed in thought slightly, glancing at him as he glanced at you. “I liked that first suit, actually,” you admitted. “I mean, obviously it wasn’t as effective as his following ones, but I’ve always admired homemade creations. It was creative in its design, at least I always thought so from the YouTube videos I’d seen.”

“For real?” Peter asked as you began to cross the street.

“Yeah.”

You were surprised when Peter began to laugh, pulling you into him by your shoulders as you walked. Your heart plummeted as he appeared to laugh at you.

“I’m glad someone liked it!” Peter then said, removing his arm and grinning at you. Your heart slowly began to clamber back up to its new home in your throat. “Especially someone with such good taste as you!”

Your heart raced to your throat like a mountain goat on the hunt for the sweetest grass at the top of the mountain. With your heart came a rush of blood and warmth.

God, you really needed to get it together. You didn’t know how you were supposed to survive around such a sweet man, with such a bright personality.

Eventually, you and Peter made it to his apartment building, which was closer to the subway than your own. He kept you entertained for the short walk, regaling amusing stories from high school and college. You learned of his best friend and now roommate, Ned Leeds, rather early on in the conversation. And you learned that he absolutely adored his Aunt May.

Peter opened the door for you, and you thanked him with a dramatic bow of your upper body, your nerves tingling happily as he laughed and copied your gesture. He introduced you to the doorman (making you realize that this was a really nice building) before pressing the button to call the elevator.

“Geez, this is a nice building,” you remarked as you stepped into the elevator. “The elevator in my building has been out for like three months.”

Peter chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, well, I haven’t told you about my full-time job yet.”

“I didn’t know a building this nice existed in Queens,” you muttered to yourself, though you were exaggerating just a little.

“I work for Stark Industries,” Peter stated, making your head snap over to him. “I-I started an internship when I was in high school,” he explained nervously, shuffling his feet. “And through college, I worked there too. And now I have a full job with Mrs. Potts-Stark.”

You tilted your head in thought, thoroughly impressed. “Wow, I knew you were smart, but damn, you’re a full-blown genius!”

Peter’s blush crept up the back of his neck and he shifted again, obviously sheepish. He muttered out a shy, “Thanks,” along with a sweet smile. “The great thing about my job, is that it actually leaves a lot of time for my creative endeavors. Mrs. Potts-Stark makes sure of it, actually; she’s very big on preventing burnout.”

“Stark Industries, man, they’re prestigious! I’ve always admired Mrs. Potts-Stark,” you continued as the elevator opened and you both walked out. “She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever read about. She’s so strong, too. And not to mention Tony Stark. I always knew that he wasn’t as selfish as the media made him out to be; I once did research on Howard Stark, and honestly, Tony Stark, before and after developing weapons, makes so much psychological sense. Some people only point out his faults, like his ego or oversight. They say this like it makes him a bad man. I say that he was a great man, with his faults.”

Peter was staring at you, his jaw slightly agape, and there seemed to be tears in his eyes. Concerned, you stepped forward and tilted your head to look into his eyes.

“Peter? Are you okay?” you asked gently.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, closing his jaw. Slowly, a smile made its way to his cheeks. “I, um, I was very close with, with Mr. Stark. Sometimes, it’s hard to hear people talk about him like he was this perfect human, or like he was the worst man ever. But, just, hearing you talk about him like that? It means a lot. Y/N, it��it makes me so happy.”

Your hand twitched as you ached to wipe the happy tear from his cheek. You kept it down, instead pulling out a handkerchief and giving it to him. Peter took it from you and glanced between it and you before chuckling wetly.

“You owning a handkerchief is so on-brand,” he chuckled as he wiped his tears quickly. Quite unfairly, it almost looked like he’d never been crying at all.

You chuckled nervously and shifted your weight back and forth. “Sometimes, it makes life a lot easier.” As he tried to hand it back to you, you held up your hands and waved them a bit for added emphasis. “No, no, it’s okay. You keep it. I have… I have more at home,” you ended in a shy whisper, almost not wanting to say it aloud at all because you’d been made fun of before.

“How many?” Peter asked, no trace of malice in his voice. “Enough to be a proper damsel in distress?” This time, he grinned at you before turning to get to his apartment.

“I’m not a damsel,” you scoffed playfully. “Nor am I proper. I’m in distress at lot, but it’s mostly internal,” you chuckled. You waited behind Peter as he unlocked his apartment door (it was painted a dark red, and you quite liked it).

“I’ll have to introduce you to Pepper sometime,” Peter said as he let you inside. “I think you’d both get along really well.”

It was then that it really sunk in for you. You were about to go into the apartment of a man that you met just a few hours ago. While you were fairly certain Peter wasn’t a serial killer, you were worried about what this evening would bring. With your awkwardness, you thought it to be quite possible that the sweet and passionate Peter would kick you out.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x plus size reader #peter parker x insecure!reader #artist!peter parker #spider-man x reader #spider-man x plus size reader #reader insert #slow burn fic #commission for confidence

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tacitoru · 6 years ago

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Dance to This (m)

pairing: fuqboi!jhs x reader

genre: smut, dance majors!au

warnings: light bondage (?), thigh riding, self-gratification lmao

wc: 3k

notes: an old draft i found collecting dust in my wips from a year ago. i think it meant to have more plot and detail but I’m not entirely sure lol editing this was more as a mental break from my current stuff than anything else and i can't remember what my original idea for this was but enjoy lmao

synopsis: in lieu of your injured partner, you’re forced to work with one of the biggest mistakes you’ve made in your college career.

Some of the most important things came in pairs; shoes, lungs, chopsticks, dance partners. Yet much to your inconvenience, you had managed to become the mismatched sock in an otherwise perfectly organized dresser drawer of neatly rolled - and paired - socks. Four weeks before one of the largest showcases in your college career, your dance partner Jimin, a sophomore prodigy, had badly twisted his ankle slipping on black ice that had frozen along the steps outside his dormitory in the aftermath of a winter storm. While the boy would still be able to dance in a few months' time, your instructor was quick to find someone to fill in the blank. Rather than your more preferable idea of turning your duet into a solo, you were haphazardly thrown to the whims of one irksome Jung Hoseok.

It wasn't that he was terrible. It was far from that - he was too good, and he knew it.

Flawless transitions, a body that moved with all the expression, ease, grace and passion you could only hope you portrayed. His performance pushed the limits of perfection and inspired awe to those who spectated, upper and underclassmen alike. And it just so happened he would be performing in the same show with you at the end of the semester, in an effort to attract the attention of big-name dance companies. To secure a future in the industry.

Yet the unbalanced dynamic caused by a long and awkward history between the two of you seemed to threaten all of that.

"Does it hurt?"

The question sounds silly the moment it leaves your mouth, and the odd look on Jimin's face most likely mirrors yours. Obviously, it hurt. But Jimin, the angel that he was, only smiles brightly and wiggles his toes in the cast. "Only a little."

Jimin, practically a contemporary dance prodigy, still had a year to go, hence, he avoided many repercussions of not being able to participate in the show. You, on the other hand, were grinding down to the last semester at your performing arts school. While it wouldn't be impossible to get a job teaching at a studio or even at another school, it wasn't what you were looking for - wasn't what you had dreamed of.

And now, with Jimin's eyes drowning you in that well-known look of pity, that dream felt very, extremely out of reach.

You shot up out of your seat, feeling your skin crawl and your ears burn under that familiar feeling of irritation. A hot feeling filled your head with all the pent-up frustration from the situation that had long gone out of your hands. You need to get out. For a fleeting moment, you're tempted to step on Jimin's other ankle out of pure (unwarranted) pettiness. Damn you for leaving me in a position like this.

"I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were doing alright…" You hope your smile looks more amiable than it feels.

The boy nods, extending his arms as if going for a hug, and then quickly retracting into a half wave as though he's thought better about it. Over the grueling hours and months you had spent practicing hard together, you and Jimin worked together like a well-oiled machine across the floor. You were good partners, even nearly friends, but close was something you were not. At the end of each day, you both went your separate ways. Still, it felt wrong for this to have happened and to not stop by the hospital, no matter little of value the relationship was to you.

As you reach the door Jimin calls out to you, "Are you heading to the studio?" He eyes your attire and the gym bag you shoulder as if that if not an obvious enough answer.

"Yeah."

"Is everything going okay with Hoseok?"

The fingers that rest of the doorknob curl around it in an iron grip. You glare hard at the scuffed tile floors, biting your tongue at the slight idolization you hear in Jimin's tone just at speaking the man's name. He had always been a bit of a fan.

"It's great," you lament, pushing through the doorway. "Fucking fantastic."

There is only one studio ever open past ten o'clock at night, and you are one of a handful that ever wanders in there so late at night after an already taxing day spent on these very floors. So when you arrive to find a sliver of light from the doorway and heavy bass of an R&B song trembling the walls of the corridor, the sense of frustration from earlier that evening only seems to balloon. Kicking the door open and fully intending on forcing the person out of the studio, you're stopped short by the sight before you.

Two closely intertwined half-dressed bodies, moving erratically and jammed up against a foggy wall length mirror jump apart at the sound of the door slamming into the wall behind it. You mentally wince, knowing that someone's instructor will spaz when they discover a door handle sized dent in the drywall.

Jung Hoseok stands in a sweat-sticky tee, hair tousled, slowly tucking himself back into the draws and basketball shorts that had fallen to his shins, looking a hell of a lot less perturbed than the girl he was just dick-deep inside. This - this was exactly why you refused to be partnered with him.

The girl (one you vaguely recognize from an Intro to Tap class you took on a whim) looks frazzled, struggling to simultaneously reach for her leggings and pull up her bra. She opens her mouth to exclaim in anger, but you beat her to the punch.

"What the fuck is this."

You stretch in silence. It's always like this now, as opposed to the pop music blasting over the stereo Jimin would play during warmups, the mild hellos and good mornings, the partner stretches or the comfortable small talk made between switching positions. Now, with Hoseok, the closest thing to a greeting is a nod or a grunt. Warming up is done in radio silence, save for the days like today when you remember to bring your earbuds and turn the volume too low for your new partner to hear, but loud enough to block out your thoughts and the awkward tension that's more deafening than the silence.

Today is more uncomfortable than others, for a multitude of reasons. You can hardly turn your head in Hoseok's direction, the image of him pinning your old classmate to the mirror by the arms and the flash of his bare ass forever printed to the backs of your eyelids. You say nothing to him though, having shared more than enough words when all he had replied to your outrage was with a shrugged off, "Practice."

You had cursed him and his accomplice out, reprimanding them for misuse of school facilities. A reprimanding that had, apparently, gone right over their heads, because while the girl had at first a little decency to appear sheepish, she had shoulder her way past you to the door hissing, "killjoy."

Despite the fact that the previous night's events had only amplified your cold attitude toward him, you could feel Hoseok's gaze burn hole between your shoulder blades. You had a three-hour practice together before a break for lunch, and although it had only just started, you were counting down the minutes.

Little was said for the first half, aside from "Let's try that again," and "One more time from the top,". Despite being thrown into it at a moment's notice, Hoseok is a fast learner and picks up the routine quickly. However, when it gets to the point where the instructor allows you to practice without him for the last hour and a half, Hoseok feels unnecessarily entitled to fill the void. Most days you don't mind a little constructive criticism. Yet today, when his hands unexpectedly go for your hips in the middle of a turn, you practically leap three feet in the air before stumbling out of his reach.

You whip around to face him, hands planted on your hips. "Can I help you?!"

Hoseok has known you've been on edge all day, yet the look on his face is one of genuine surprise at your outburst. He blinks. "You're moving your hips all wrong."

"Wha-?"

"Your hips," He falters when you move further away from him when he reaches for you again, sighing exasperatedly. "You look super stiff like you're trying to twist your way out of a tight pair of jeans. There's no fluidity."

Chin tilted in his direction, you keep your defensive stance, still mentally gathering your bearings. The image of bare thighs flash across your thoughts, and it takes everything in you not to screw your face up at the memory. "Excuse me? Instructor Lee said that I was doing this perfectly fine-,"

Hoseok snorts, "Instructor Lee doesn't want to hurt your fragile little feelings."

"My feelings?!" Is he not the damn professor?

"Y/N, I know what happened yesterday was a little…unprecedented. But if you want to be taken seriously at this showcase, you have to focus and be able to handle constructive criticism."

"Taken seriously?!" At this point you're just parroting what he says, his condescending tone rendering you shocked into disbelief. You've quickly gone from defensive to full offense, advancing on Hoseok. "You, of all people, are the very last person to talk to me about being serious! Especially after that stint the other night. Can't you take your private business somewhere a little more, I dunno…private? How do you expect me to just unsee whatever the hell that was? I can't sleep, Hoseok. I have nightmares. Don't you know how much this sucks? How much more stress you've caused me?!" At this point you've got a single pointer finger digging into his pectoral with so much force he bats your hand away with a hiss.

"Look, I think you're exaggerating a little too much-,"

"And I don't think you're taking this seriously enough. This isn't a game, Jung. Don't you know how much I want this?!"

"You don't think I want this either?!" Hoseok barks back, appearing more than a little miffed.

"You certainly don't act like it."

He huffs again, shaking his head dismissively. "Look, I'm not ecstatic that we got paired together so last minute either, but we could work so well together if you would just stop being so tightly wound-,"

"-You're the reason I'm so wound up-!"

"Then let me undo it!"

The words hang in the distance between you, which Hoseok tries to close in a quick succession of steps that bring him far too close for comfort.

"Excuse me?" You lean away, tilting your chin to glaring up at him incredulously over the bridge of your nose. Is he offering what you think he's offering?

"Let me help you relax," he reiterates. "If it means you'll be more compliant."

"You say that as if this whole mess is my fault. And as if I'd ever get comfortable enough to let you put your hands on me again," you scoff.

"Y/N… You know I can do it. You know I can get you there. It's a matter of morals, really. Stop being so stiff." Your name rolls from the depth of throat in a low growl. His hands hover by your sides as though he's fighting the urge to initiate physical contact, fidgeting fingers curling into fists. Suddenly, you're reminded of every other hapless run in you've had with Jung Hoseok for the past four years, how they all started like this and ended the same. A long progression of tension, sly looks, flirting, wandering hands and an offer that you had never taken upon until your junior year because you never thought he really meant it. You had thought were better than that and had more self-respect than all of the other girls before you who had succumbed to such encouragement on his part. But that night, when you had caved in because he was so damn earnest and you had managed to convince yourself he really did care, was the night that had solidified the true nature of your relationship and revealed the real character behind one determined, dazzling Jung Hoseok. When he had left you alone, in a stranger's bed in the heated aftermath of a house party held by the friend of a friend, only to reappear into your life the next day with another girl on his arm. You had felt played. Hence began the year-long tirade against anything and everything Hoseok related - until now.

"Having a sense of self-respect and morality makes me stiff? What, so you wanna bang me against the mirror like you did to your other little friend?" you sneer. 'I didn't think you'd take me for someone so easily. "

His eyes flash, more than likely reliving that night too, the last time you had ever really talked to him outside of the studio. You grip the hoodie that's tied lowly around his hips and yank him an inch forward so that you can nose up to his ear.

"Fine. I'll let you help me, but we'll do it my way this time."

And then you're shoving him backward, towards the balancing bar, quickly untying the knot of his sweater sleeves as you go. Hoseok trips over his own feet, all of his usual elegance and grace lost as he struggles to comprehend your intentions. He grimaces when his back hits the wall. "What are you doing?"

Blatantly ignoring him, you place your free hand on his shoulder pressing down, the other still holding the sleeves of his hoodie together. "Kneel." His brow furrows at the command, but he complies none the less, slowly sinking to the floor.

A feeling of satisfaction thrums through your veins at the sight of him like this, knocked off his pedestal and quite literally a few feet beneath you. In a single motion, you ruck the hoodie up from his waist, pulling his arms up from under his biceps in the process. Stepping closer so that you stand over his knees, Hoseok awkwardly attempts to reach for your waist, yet you slip the hoodie around his wrists and tie them to the bar in a haphazard yet decently secured knot.

"I said you're not going to lay a hand on me." You hiss, wedging a foot between his knees, you direct him to slide his feet from under himself and prop his legs up. Much to your surprise, your toes brush up on his crotch, finding him already half hard.

You flash him a mocking smile. "Already?"

Hoseok only looks down at the floor in response, cheeks flushing red with shame.

"It's alright. You've always been one to take what you want." He watches you with wide eyes as you undo the strings of your sweatpants, gaze quickly flitting to the mirror, and then the door. "Now it's my turn."

"What about the door?"

A bolt of panic runs down your spine. It's daytime, and despite it being so close to lunch hours, it is more than likely that anyone could walk right in and catch you in the act. However, you remember the light in the hall, the unlocked door, the unworried look, and nonchalant air that which Hoseok had carried himself when you had found him and that girl, and you realized that he didn't really care. He couldn't have. It makes you all the more determined, and a little bold.

You step out of your sweatpants and gradually lower yourself into his lap, pinching his chin to divert his attention back to you in a show of bravado. "Let them see, then."

Straddling his left leg, Hoseok's eyes become impossibly wide as you begin a steady gyration over his thigh. "You've always had such nice thighs Hobi. How about you put them to some good use."

Slowly but surely you move your hips along the ridge of muscle in his leg, one hand on the balancing bar and the other on his shoulder for support. The pressure on your core brings a thrill of pleasure down your spine, heat filling low in your abdomen. A breathless sigh escapes you, and Hoseok groans at the sight before him. You nearly laugh at the sight of his petulance.

"Didn't think it would turn out like this, would it?" Knees braced on either side of his legs, you grind down harder. When your kneecap brushes the bulge between his legs, Hoseok gasps, responding with an erratic buck of his hips. He tosses his head back, hiding his face in the crook of his right arm. The answer to that question would be yes, but he senses that you're not looking for an answer; you already have one. "Leaving the door open, not even the slightest bit surprised when I came through the door. You knew what you were doing last night." You seethe in his ear. "Think of how unfair you're being; fucking her while you're thinking of me."

Hoseok growls. "Who said I was thinking of you."

"Nobody had to." You roll your hips into his thigh faster, seeking that self-satisfaction, and Hoseok hates it. He wants you pinned to the floor, beneath him, his mouth on the alluring juncture between your neck and shoulder, and his hands on any bare skin he can possess. Instead, here you are, rendering him subdued while you use his body to get you off like some kind of toy.

"I-I didn't even know that girl was coming last night. I-I was waiting for you," Hoseok confesses, albeit reluctant. "Wanted to get your attention again."

"Well, now you've definitely got it." One particular motion results in the material of your panties to chafe directly at your clit, causing you to stutter. "Oh, f-fuck!"

You're ridiculously wet, evident in the dark streaks left in the fabric of his red shorts. Hoseok gathers the strength to look at you again, moaning at the sight of you working yourself on him. He flexes his leg and you falter again, whimpering. You're close, he can tell. For a moment Hoseok fidgets against his makeshift restraints.

"I could make you feel so much better if you would just let my hands go."

"Not happening," You admonish gripping his jaw with the hand not on the bar when Hoseok tries to toss his head back again in frustration. "Look at me - no, look at me."

Your partner's replacement is forced to watch as you whine and wriggle yourself to completion on his leg. The pressure of your knee on his crotch leaves little to no relief, and yet he bucks up in a last ditch effort anyways. When you finally hoist yourself up, shiny streaks stick to some places where the edge of his shorts meets his bare skin. Hoseok nearly gawks at the site. Meanwhile, you pull yourself together, hiking on your sweatpants and turning to gather your things.

"Hey!" He realizes your intentions and begins to panic. You throw him a bored look over your shoulder, halfway out the door. In his stupor, he recognizes it to be one far too identical to his demeanor the other night. Except for this time, it's no bluff. "Untie me?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"Please?"

Instead of granting his wish, you slowly stride over to him, pulling out your phone to snap a quick photo of him. The fantastic, Jung Hoseok, God's gift to the world of performance arts, looking disheveled, distraught and tied up to a balancing bar. It was too good to pass up.

"Okay. I've had my fun." With one good yank, you release the man from his confines and stalk out of the practice room. "But don't think it'll be happening again."

#hoseok smut #bts smut #hoseok scenario #bts scenario #old draft #if you have any questions pls dont be afraid to ask bc i know how trash this was written jskljfkhgs #impulse post

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maxfieldparrishes · 5 years ago

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intro to genevieve, pt. 1

So I saw this post about ABCs of OCs and decided to do it for my OC, Genevieve. I regret nothing. @ocelotsflatass, maybe this might interest you???

A: Aptitude 1. Viv is very verbal, so she’s good with words, texts, communication, writing, analysis--all of that. She studied Foreign Languages and Literature in the DMC world’s equivalent of college or university, so her main role at the DMC shop is primarily research. She was also pretty decent at biology. Loves plants, would have been a good botanist. EDIT, because I can’t believe I forgot to add this: Viv is a witch, and her strongest areas are plant magic and divination. 2. Um... piano? 3. Viv worked hard to be able to play piano as well as she does. Also chemistry and physics kicked her ass in school, but she genuinely enjoys them as subjects because she does like science, so she worked hard to pass them. Especially since they were mandatory subjects. She works on her magic as well. 4. Please don’t ask her to do anything except basic math. Or draw anything, either, but she loves art. 5. Her most impressive talent is being fluent in like 3 languages, especially because one of those three has a different grammatical system and alphabet. She’s conversational in at least 2 more besides those. Also, making plants grow, scrying, cartomancy. She’s pretty handy.

B: Basics 1. Viv is blonde. I’m still deciding on an exact shade. 2. She has blue eyes, darker than Dante and Vergil’s. Pretty dark, actually. Not very pale. Has a dark limbal ring. 3. Viv is 5′4″, or says she is, at least. She’s kind of fine-boned as well. 4. She’s in her mid-to-late 20′s. 5. Don’t you know better than to ask someone how much they weigh? (for the record, though, the answer is “not that much.”)

C: Comfort 1. Sits pretty normally in a chair, but will do whatever is comfortable for her at the moment, no matter what it is--criss-cross or propping her feet up. 2. Viv is a stomach or side sleeper, usually. Prefers to lie on her left side. 3. Her idea of a chill day is a day when she doesn’t have anything to do, so she can get things that she should do done. Snow day? Pajamas. Netflix. Laundry. 4. Anything starchy and salty, really, but she is fond of hot soup, especially matzoh ball. 5. Her parents are the best at cheering her up, mostly because they’ve had the most experience with her, but her best friend/ex-girlfriend Zoe is also fairly good at it. Dante will do his absolute best, even though it’s not something he’s used to, and he is getting better at it.

D: Decoration 1. Viv’s style is an eclectic mix of boho-modern with classic with crazy plant lady. 2. Viv is very much about the Aesthetic™, so any kid of hers will have a pretty kickass room. Probably green, because it’s gender-neutral. Lots of stuffed animals, and a reading nook, so she can read to her child or sing to them. 3. Her room is covered in books, her furniture is somewhat antique-looking, there are plants everywhere. It’s organized chaos. The walls are a light, neutral color, and the blinds and curtains are almost always open, because she loves natural light. 100% watches HGTV in her free time. 4. Viv is pretty boho, but she also likes a lot of structure in her outfits and her tastes do veer towards classic. It could probably be summarized as “dark academia/The Secret History groupie meets punk meets an extra from Picnic at Hanging Rock.” 5. Depends on the trend. Viv has no qualms about adopting trends, or parts of trends, that she likes and discarding whatever it is she doesn’t. She does like having short nails because they’re easier to keep clean, and does like to paint them even though they chip after two days no matter how many coats she puts on.

E: External Personality 1. There’s sometimes a split where Viv is acting like her real self, but gets really insecure about it and tries to overcompensate, versus times where she’s pretty comfortable in her own skin. It really depends on how she’s feeling, and who she’s with. 2. Viv is very good at appearing normal, at the very least. There’s a part of her that realizes compromises need to be made and that blending in can be a very useful and powerful thing. 3. She doesn’t feel obligated to follow trends, but will adopt one if it’s something she likes. She could care less if she was hip or not. 4. Viv likes memes, if nothing else? And Vines. RIP Vine. 5. She feels like her own personality changes. She initially comes across as introverted--not necessarily shy, but reserved and focused. It takes some warming up and some time for someone to discover what she’s really like.

F: Fun 1. Viv likes to read, hike, garden, and watch movies. She’s big on horror movies, especially supernatural horror movies and psychological thrillers. 2. Ideally it’s something chill and intimate, where there’s a lot of chatter and everyone is close friends. But... she is also not adverse to a rager where there are a ton of drunk people and couples making out in every corner. Something about house parties like those makes her let loose a little. She wouldn’t throw one of them herself, but doesn’t mind going to one. However, once she’s reached her max noise/stimulation threshold, she’s out. 3. Her close friends. She and Zoe, and her previous partners Sonali and Eli, all got up to some shenanigans when they were together. 4. For the most part, the fun Viv likes to have doesn’t really break any laws, but she could definitely be persuaded to do something illegal as long as 1) nobody gets hurt and 2) she doesn’t get arrested. 5. Viv is kind of a homebody, but she does go through periods of intense wanderlust and cabin fever, especially during winter. (She also has a bit of SAD, but that’s neither here nor there)

I’m breaking this up into parts because I hate reading long blocks of text, so hopefully part 2 will come soon!

#oc: genevieve #oc stuff #writeblr #my writing

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okaystraykids-blog · 6 years ago

Text

don’t go; it’s a mighty long fall

2 out of ??

Genre: fluff/angst/school ..

Seems like it’s going to turn out to be a hyunjin ff but we’ll see

WARNING: some mature themes

| the start of part two |

"Hey Alice, can we sit with you?"

The words echoed in my head and I just stared at Hyunjin as he inquired. The four boys just blinked awkwardly, and I realized they were waiting for an answer. "Sorry, no. I kind of want to stay alone." I kind of glanced away from Hyunjin, and my eyes caught Changbin’s, he was looking at me intently, a wondering expression on his face. The sound of chairs moving disrupted my thoughts, the guys had sat down, Hyunjin on one side of me, Changbin on the other. "I thought I told you no." "You did, but I don't really care." Hyunjin chuckled, pulling out a bento box containing his lunch. I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into the palms of my hands. Please get me through this. I glanced up around the cafeteria and my eyes unwillingly landed on the biggest asshole and reputable fuckboy, in the school, Lio. Lio raised his eyebrows, and winked at me. Turning back to his friends with a sly smile. I could feel my cheeks getting red. This is exactly why I don't hang out with people, I hate attention. Especially from someone like Lio. "Who's he?" Someones voice made me jump. Chan was looking at me questioningly. "Uh, just some fuckboy. He has a big reputation and basically owns the school." "Seems like a fun guy." Jisung scoffed. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. I sat with my arms close by my sides, nibbling on my sandwich. I don't like eating with people watching me, it makes my anxiety spike. After a while, I couldn't take it anymore, my skin felt like it was on fire and my hands were trembling. It wasn't like the boys were talking about weird stuff, they were talking about normal boy things, but I just couldn't take being around that many people anymore. I slid my chair back and walked out, not noticing I forgot my book.

By the end of the day I was drained, that lunch took a lot of energy out of me. It was the end of the day, and I was heading to the bus when Chan suddenly called out to me, "Alice! Want a ride?" I shook my head no, and gave a weak smile. I lived alone at the moment, my parents were working out of the city and my siblings were all older and moved out. Chan nodded and turned away. I watched him as he went and eventually I saw him and the 3 others driving away in a large, fancy, SUV. I walked down the steps and saw a familiar group of boys, Lio and his friends. I passed a cloud of vape smoke and shook my head slightly. We get it, you vape. "I'm gonna ask-" "Dude she's boring, she doesn't party-" "I'ma change that." I tried to ignore it but before I could even get down the last step, Lio's caramel raspy voice called out to me. "Hey, it's Alice, right?" I glanced back at him, nodding softly. "There's a party tomorrow after school. You should come." The way he said it made me realize, he wasn't asking, he was telling; if there was one thing I knew not to do, it was not to piss of Lio Drew. I hated that it was a short week and there was no school Wednesday, Thursday or Friday. I've never been to a party, and I knew Lio and his friends were all 18, but I was 17 so I didn't expect to do much. "I guess... yeah sure." I started walking away and overheard again. "Damn you did it bro." "I did, and I'm gonna have a good time tomorrow night." I shook my head, What have I gotten myself into.

MESSAGE RECEIVED 8:45PM

[Changbin] hey a, how was ur day?

[Me] iffy.

[Changbin] iFFy IFFy yEaH YEaH iFFy IffY YeAh

[Me] I JUSt ChokED On An ICeCuBe LMAO

[Changbin] i gotta go, but have a good night! there's a party on tuesday, u coming?

[Me] ahh, nah probably not. gn though

[Changbin] :(

Even the guys are going? Wow. That's just perfect.

I was just about to go to sleep when my phone buzzed off, it was an Instagram notification.

LIO_REAL Followed you

LIO_REAL Sent you a Direct Message

OPEN MESSAGE?

YES/NO

(LIO_REAL)

hey there ce, i hope you can make it, the parties at 10, here's the address

xxx-xx AVE.

I closed my phone, oh god, now I have the biggest fuckboy in the school following me, and he gave me a nickname. This is wonderful. The clock beside my table read 9:24 PM and I finally was able to go to sleep.

The next day I was ready early, just wearing black jeans with slits in the knees, and a tighter than usually fitting maroon tee shirt. Because of this, I was able to catch an early bus. When I arrived, much to my surprise, Changbin and the others were there sitting out front. Changbin looked pretty good I begrudgingly have to admit. Hyunjin too. They looked like they walked right out of a music video. I attempted to sneak by, but Jisungs voice rang out across the quiet morning air. "Alice!" I turned to him and plastered a smile on my face. Damn how I loved his mullet. I walked over to them, sitting on one of the steps. "So," started Chan, "I heard Lio Drew invited you to his party tonight." Both Hyunjin and Changbin looked up at me in shock. I shrugged, looking down. "I guess you could say that... I might not go. I haven't decided yet." Chan raised his eyebrows questioningly, he may have just transferred here but even he knows that when Lio Drew invites you somewhere, you don't say no. I nodded slowly, standing up as it got closer to the bell for first period. "I'm going to go, I have to go to art." Hyunjin jumped up, "we're both going there. I'll come with you." I was about to refuse his company, but something about how genuine his smile was made me grin and nod, "Okay." The whole way to class he was rambling about how his friends and him are making music and how back in Korea his family was moving, and just random things. I was feeling anxious for some reason, and everything he said just went in one ear, out the other. "Alice, can I get your Snapchat and maybe give it to the guys?" I paused for a moment... "Um well I guess so." After I gave him my Snap we continued walking, and as we turned the corner, Lio and his friends were laughing and walking down the hall towards us. Lio saw me, and stared me down, a smirk on his face. He glanced at Hyunjin on the other side of me, who was adorably oblivious. As he passed, his hand sneakily reached out and grabbed my ass. I gasped, turning to face him but he was already rounding the corner. I could feel my entire body burning and I started to tremble. What the fuck. No one has ever bothered me until I started hanging out with Hyunjin and them. Lio has never even spared me a glance. This is all their fault, It's Changbin's fault.

LIO_REAL Sent you a Direct Message

OPEN MESSAGE?

YES/NO

(LIO_REAL)

sorry bout that ;) my hand slipped. you better still be coming tonight, or i'll bother u more, luv.

I just stared at the message. I should have ignored them better... Hyunjin just looked at me. "Are you alright? Did he say something?" I felt terrible. Sick to my stomach. I just stared Hyunjin dead in the eyes, and walked away. I've never skipped before, but I couldn't handle being around him for two classes. I went to the lunchroom, sitting by the windows rather than my usual spot. My brain not fully comprehending that that was right beside where Lio and his friends usually sit.

[Changbin] im bored :( meet up with mee

[Me] im in class, not today

[Changbin] nO, nOt toDAYyy, nOnO noT toDaY

[Me] lol.

I continued to sit, staring outside, and before I knew it I had fallen asleep. I slept for two class periods, each class 80 minutes long, and I finally woke up right as the lunch bell rang. When people started arriving, I didn't even turn to watch. Until Lio's voice interrupted my train of thought. "Well. Isn't this a surprise!" I spun around and found him sitting at the table behind me, his teeth biting down seductively on his lip. I slipped off the stool in an attempt to leave, but his foot swung out, blocking my way. "Stay." He said simply. Kicking out one of his less important henchmen. "Sit." I could feel eyes on me and I had no choice but to obey. It was obey, or become the victim of abuse from everyone in school. Lio eyed me up and down and waited till I sat down. I glanced to the door and saw Hyunjin walk in, followed by Chan, Jisung and lastly, Changbin. They paused and looked at me sitting with Lio, surprised. Chan was looking at Lio with a frown. Lio noticed that look and proceeded to lean across the table. Before I knew it, his lips were next to my ear and he whispered, "I'm excited for tonight baby-girl." I felt repulsed. I slammed my chair back, grabbed my bag, and walked out. Fuck this school. Fuck Lio.

At 10:00 PM I was laying in my bed watching YouTube, when my phone buzzed. It was a snap from Hyunjin,

I let out an awkward squeak, holy shit he's so pretty. I was about to respond when I suddenly got an Instagram notification...

LIO_REAL Sent you a Direct Message

OPEN MESSAGE?

YES/NO

(LIO_REAL)

where are you.

(OKAYALICE)

im not coming, lio.

(LIO_REAL)

if u dont come, im gonna fucking ruin the rest of senior year for you. i swear on it.

I stared down at my phone, my heart racing. Is this not blackmail? I glanced out the outfit I had previously put on my bed, and I groaned. "Well. Fuck it." I looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a decently tight, short, black, skirt and a silver crop top that just covered my belly button. My outfit wasn't complete until I put on my converse. My makeup was different than usual. I was wearing dark red lipstick and I had eyeliner on. I checked the clock. 10:45 PM. Well, fashionably late I guess.

When I arrived outside the house, I could feel the ground booming from the music and I was surprised it hadn't gotten shut down yet. I started walking up the driveway. Already seeing wasted teenagers. It wasn't much better inside. People were everywhere, making out, drinking, smoking, dancing. I thought to myself,

maybe this was a mistake.

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endlesshero1122 · 6 years ago

Text

Heat Wave (Hero Fanfic Chapter 5)

All rights go to Pixelberry. I only own my MCs. Sorry for the long post. Enjoy!

@ladyseaheart1668 @endlessflame @toglidethroughlife @mariussage @countrymusicandncis-blog @sceptilemasterr

On the other side of town, a small squad of police cruisers pursued the black getaway van through the city streets. The young man in the leather jacket swore under his breath as one of the cruisers rammed into the side of the van, forcing it into a dead end. The rest of the cruisers crowded behind the van, effectively blocking the exit.

“We’ve got you cornered!” one of the cops called out as they got out of their cars.

“Well, no shit!” the man called back sarcastically.

The cops readied their guns in response. “Come out slowly with your hands up!”

The door opened an inch…

Then another…

“What the hell is taking so long?!”

“You said slowly!”

The door was forcefully jerked open before a hand grabbed a fistful of the man’s shirt and threw him onto the pavement. He grunted in pain as he pushed himself up to his knees only to receive a swift kick to the ribs.

“Think you’re being funny, smart ass?”

In spite of his pain, the man smirked. “A little.”

“Still don’t know how to respect your superiors, do ya, kid?” another cop snarled as the rest of the squad circled around him.

The man’s face twisted into an ugly scowl as he glared up at the cop. “It’s Caleb, and you’re not my superior!”

A third cop lunged at him, driving his fist into Caleb’s stomach. The others laughed as Caleb sank to his knees, gasping for air.

“We’re the ones who have the power,” the first cop sneered as the rest took turns beating Caleb down. “And you’re just one of the pieces of trash that we have to clean off the streets.”

“You’re nothing,” a third cop growled as he backhanded Caleb across the face. “Nothing but a pathetic nobody no one wanted. Bet no one would notice if you just happened to disappear tonight…”

Neither of them noticed the crystal hidden in Caleb’s jacket began to pulse with an otherworldly glow; the light grew brighter as his blood boiled with hate and anger.

He groaned in pain and doubled over; something inside him was burning as if a fire was growing inside him. It burned brighter and brighter until…

“What the hell?!”

Caleb looked down at his hands as they burst into flames. The fire continued to spread across his skin until his entire body was ablaze. Caleb stared down at his hand curiously; the flames weren’t burning him or causing him any sort of pain for that matter. In fact, he felt strangely at ease. A wicked grin curved his lips as he turned towards the cops. The sight of them quaking with feel gave him a sense of pleasure.

“You scum always use your power to oppress those weaker than you. You fill them with fear, bringing them to their knees, putting them at your mercy.”

He raised his hand, the flames burning so brightly they were almost white.

“Now it’s your turn.”

The Next Morning

“Man, I never loved coffee so much in my life!” Dax sighed as he downed his fifth cup of coffee. Kameron smirked as he slowly sipped his third cup while Marjorie and Santiago watched in astonishment. The four of them had decided to meet up at their favorite coffee house, Starbeans Coffee, for their morning break. Alyssa was not present due to leaving with Grayson earlier that morning to meet the candidate for the position of manager at the old cabaret the former had recently purchased.

“How can you two stand to drink that much? You’ll be up all night!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Santiago, that’s kinda the point,” Kameron stated. “Working late nights is no joke, especially after what happened last Friday.”

“I still feel it’s unnecessary for you to work overtime,” Marjorie said, giving Kameron a pointed look. “After all, you do have… other responsibilities.”

Kameron frowned. He didn’t miss Marjorie’s subtle hint.

“Alyssa knows how to get home safely. She’s always been able to take the train and call or text me right when she gets home. Besides, it’s not like she’s helpless. I gave her pepper spray and showed her a few basics that she can use to defend herself.”

“Please. The girl jumps when she sees her own shadow and has clumsiness down as an art,” Marjorie scoffed, though there was a slight quiver to her voice. “Besides, I highly doubt she would use those ‘basics’ even if her life depended on it.”

“I gotta side with Marjorie on this,” Santiago spoke, his face grim with concern. “We all know Alyssa’s too gentle to hurt anyone. Hell, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly! And I mean that literally; you all remember her first day at Prescott Industries, don’t you?”

“Mmm, yes; she spent an hour shooing that fly out of the building,” Marjorie chuckled. “And that butterfly a month later… and that ladybug about two months after that.”

“Don’t forget about that baby bird from last week,” Dax cut in. “She waited outside with it until its mother came looking for it.”

Kameron rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, message received. Alyssa is a cinnamon roll who’s too pure for this world, what else is new?”

“We’re serious, Kameron,” Marjorie snapped. “I’m only hard on the girl because I have to be, but all of us, including me, worry about your sister.”

“And for good reason,” Santiago growled lowly, nodding towards the TV in the corner. Kameron and the others followed his gaze as the news switched to the topics of supers.

“A man of stone, then bronze, and now one on fire, all of whom appeared out of nowhere just last night,” the news anchor was reporting; Kameron and Dax exchanged worried glanced at the mention of the ‘man on fire’. “With these three supers roaming freely through the streets, we have to wonder: how many more of them are out there, and are they a threat to public safety?”

“Wait, why would they say Tombstone is ‘roaming freely’?” Dax asked Kameron in a hushed tone. “The cops apprehend him and his crew, didn’t they?”

Kameron glanced discreetly at Marjorie and Santiago; their attention was diverted to the news segment, completely tuned out of the private conversation between the two engineers.

“I honestly doubt there’s a cell the police force has that could hold Tombstone for long,” he answered, careful to keep his voice down. “Even without his powers, he has military training; at the very least, he’d know to pick a lock. The Man on Fire, on the other hand…”

Dax gave a halfhearted shrug. “Maybe he’s friendly…?” he suggested unconvincingly.

Kameron gave him a skeptical look before the two turned back to the TV; the news reporter, Katherine, had shoved the microphone right in DA Meiko Katsaros’s face. Kameron honestly didn’t blame the DA for looking slightly annoyed by Katherine’s obvious lack of respect for personal space.

“DA Katsaros, you just instituted a new campaign against these supers,” Katherine was saying. “Are you sure the police force is up to the challenge?”

Meiko took a deep breath, most likely trying to swallow her irritation, before answering in a cool, firm tone.

“I understand the public’s concern with the police force’s capabilities to handle these super criminals, especially given the fact that a small group of officers was hospitalized after encountering the so-called ‘Man on Fire’—”

“Ooookay, definitely not friendly,” Dax shuddered.

“—but rest assured that we will be working tirelessly to return this city to order. And as for these vigilantes…” Meiko’s expression hardened. “I’d advise you to stay out of our way and let the police do their job. I don’t care if you’re made of bronze, steel, or flesh and bone: your powers do not put you above the law. Try not to forget that, unless you would like to be branded as a criminal.”

Genuine shock crossed Katherine’s face. “But don’t you think it would make more sense for superheroes to fight super-villains? I mean with Talos around to protect us--”

“The police are the ones who protect Northbridge,” Meiko hissed, silencing Katherine’s feeble attempts to sway her opinion. “Powers or no powers, Talos and others like him should decide whether to respect the law or be persecuted. That is my final say on the matter.”

The coworkers turned to face each other as the camera cut back to the news anchor.

“You see why we’re worried?” Santiago stressed to Kameron. “The city is dangerous enough with the rising crime, and now you want Alyssa walking home by herself after dark with super-powered maniacs are running around causing mayhem at free will?!”

Kameron had to agree with Santiago. Powers or no powers, he didn’t like the idea of Alyssa walking home alone.

Marjorie let out an audible sigh and shook her head. “Even so, these people are dangerous, and we’re only aware of those three so far… the only thing putting me at ease is that one seems to be on our side.”

“You mean that Talos guy?” Santiago snapped, his face hardening. “If you ask me, he’s worse than those other two; parading around, acting like he’s king of the world with his powers. I doubt he hardly cares about the public’s safety as much as cares about the attention he’s getting! People with egos like that are dangerous, especially when others get caught in the middle!”

Once again, Kameron found himself agreeing with Santiago. Not only did Talos take credit for apprehending Tombstone, something his sister was injured for, but he soaked up the fame and glory like a narcissistic celebrity rather than a hero.

“Maybe you guys are right,” he conceded. “There are criminals with superpowers appearing overnight, the police don’t have the means to keep them contained, and the only guy who isn’t tearing the city apart is too busy posing for the cameras to bother actually trying to protect anyone… much less my sister.”

Dax placed a hand on Kameron’s back. “Kameron…”

“I already lost my dad… I can’t lose Alyssa, too.”

Santiago and Marjorie exchanged troubled glances as Kameron gazed emptily into his unfinished cup of coffee. Suddenly, despite his new super strength and bulletproof skin, he felt small and helpless… just like he did when he sat by Alyssa’s bed at the hospital. Was he enough to keep her safe… was he ever?

“I… I think we should head back to work,” Marjorie spoke softly.

The others turned to her as she stood up, straightening herself out.

“There’s still plenty to do, and worrying about the future isn’t going to change anything. We’re all just going to have to adapt and hope for the best… after all, that’s all we can do.”

***

Meanwhile, Grayson pulls his car up the curb in front of The Grand. He turned off the engine before stepping out of his car and circling around to open the door for Alyssa, who was fidgeting nervously.

“Are you sure I look okay?” she asked Grayson as she tried to straighten out the invisible wrinkles in her clothes.

Instead of her usual work outfit, she was wearing a mid-sleeve yellow shirt with a white laces collar and a navy blue skirt decorated with yellow flowers that matched her top. Her hair had been woven into a braid that fell past her shoulder, which she stroked nervously as she followed Grayson to the door.

“You look fine, Alyssa,” he assured her. “And you don’t have to impress anyone.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me?”

Grayson smiled softly. “I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t. It’s impossible not to adore you.”

Alyssa smiled shyly and bowed her head as Grayson took out the key and opened the doors. The two were immediately assaulted by a thick cloud of dust, causing them to cough and cover their eyes as they blindly staggered into the building.

“Guess the —ack!— guess the place hasn’t been cleaned out in a while,” Grayson coughed as he waved the dust away.

Alyssa copied him and looked around the room. The dust was by far the least of their worries. A few floorboards were missing, leaving gaping holes while broken stools, tables, and old posters laid scattered what was left of the floor; for Alyssa, it was no different than a maze of land mines. The scraps of wallpaper that clung to the walls were fading in color and peeling away. Whatever part of the walls the paper no longer covered wore thick coats of grime, along with the aged curtains that framed the stage. The bar was littered with empty, dusty glass bottles and the chandelier above them had come loose from its hanging, swinging just mere inches above their heads.

“It’s kinda sad that something this important to the town was just left to fade away,” Alyssa spoke as she carefully stepped around the gaps in the floor. “I’m glad we’re bringing back to help people around here— whoa!”

Alyssa gave a startled yelp as she tripped over the leg of a fallen stool. Grayson whirled around to catch her, but someone else beat him to it.

“Careful, now!”

Strong arms wrapped around Alyssa’s waist, pulling her close to a well-built frame of a young man. She tentatively looked up at his face, heat flooding her face as she gazed into a familiar pair of grey eyes.

The DA’s son flashed her the same dazzling smile he had when she fell into his arms at the gala, chuckling in amusement.

“Huh… déjà vu.”

Alyssa stammered a quick apology as she pulled away from him, her face flushing from embarrassment.

“Alyssa, this is Kenji Katsaros,” Grayson said, carefully stepping around the stool. “He was at the gala with his mother, Meiko Katsaros, the District Attorney.”

Alyssa nodded mutely, refusing to look Kenji in the eye or at all; she remembered their first encounter all too well.

“Kenji, this is Alyssa, my executive assistant. I take it you’ve already met…?”

Alyssa risked a peak up at Kenji, only to quickly whip her head back down when he shot her a playful smirk. “We might’ve… bumped into each other at the gala.”

Alyssa pressed her lips together to prevent herself from wailing in despair.

Grayson gave her a sympathetic look before turning his attention to Kenji. “I know the place doesn’t look like much, but with some hard work and TLC, we can get this place back to its former glory.”

She peaked back up at Kenji as he cocked an eyebrow at Grayson, giving him a wry grin.

“Its former glory? Why stop there when this place can be so much more?”

Grayson smirked. “You could make it much more… if you’re interested in the job. I hired a remodeling crew to clean up the place, its reputation is your responsibility. That is if you can handle it.”

Kenji’s lips curled into a cocky smirk. “Is that a challenge?”

“... Maybe.”

Kenji’s eyes gleamed. “In that case, I’ll consider your offer. Though we do need to discuss a few things first… my rate, in particular.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll let you discuss that with Alyssa,” Grayson replied as he placed a hand on Alyssa’s shoulder.

The young girl looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Wait, what do you--”

“I gave Alyssa ownership of the club, so you’ll be working with her directly if you accept the job.”

Kenji smirk grew wider as his eyes rested on Alyssa. “Well, that does sound tempting…”

Alyssa flushed furiously as Grayson gave Kenji a faint smile.

“Oh, believe me; it’s a privilege to be able to work with her. I have to head back to the office, so I just need to have a quick work with Alyssa before I go.”

Kenji gave him a slight nod before walking over to one of the booths in the far corner. Once he was out of earshot, Grayson turned to Alyssa.

“I’m really sorry to drop this on you, but I do need to get back to Prescott Industries,” Grayson said quickly. “I’m all for hiring Kenji, but I’d appreciate it if you could convince him to lower his rate. Think you can handle it?”

Alyssa glanced nervously at Kenji, biting her lip nervously. “I guess…”

Grayson gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ll do fine. I gotta go now, but I called Poppy earlier to take you home, okay?”

Alyssa gave him a small nod. After giving her a quick hug, Grayson headed out of the building, leaving Alyssa alone with Kenji.

Kenji smiled up at her as she cautiously approached the booth he was resting in. “Hey.”

“Hi…” Alyssa muttered softly, fidgeting with her hands nervously.

Kenji nodded towards the seat in front of him, inviting her to sit down. Once she was seated, he gave her a playful smirk. “So… shall we begin?”

“Um, s-sure,” Alyssa agreed. “I… I, uh… w-well, you should know that Grayson has other candidates in mind for the job.”

“Is that so?”

Alyssa nodded, hoping she was convincing. “Y-yeah. And compared to them, you obviously have less experience with handling this type of job.”

Kenji arched an eyebrow at her. “So, what you’re saying is that I’m up against a bunch of old guys for this job?”

Alyssa bit her lip and gave a halfhearted shrug. “I guess…”

Kenji gave her a long, searching look, then grinned. “You wouldn’t happen to be trying to get me to lower my rate, now, would you?”

A dark shade of lavender tinted Alyssa’s rosy cheeks. “I-I… well—”

“How old are you?”

Alyssa blinked at him, caught off guard by his question. “Um, e-eighteen.”

Kenji tilted his head. “And how long have you been working at Prescott Industries?”

“About a year and a half.”

“Did you work somewhere else before?”

Alyssa tensed at the question, her eyes drifting down to the floor. “I… no. I was actually having trouble finding a job.”

“So how did you end up at Prescott Industries?”

“...Grayson and my brother were friends in college. When my brother started working for him, he mentioned that we were having trouble saving up enough money to send me to college. I didn’t want to be treated like a charity case, so he offered me a job as his executive assistant.”

Kenji furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re only eighteen, and you’re the executive assistant for the son of the most powerful man in Northbridge?”

Alyssa hesitated, then nodded shamefully.

“...and you haven't even started college yet?”

Another shameful nod.

“I’ve got to admit... I’m pretty impressed.”

Alyssa glanced up at him nervously. “... Really?”

Kenji nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Well, I don’t know how many eighteen-year-olds can put ‘executive assistant for Prescott Industries’ on their resume before even attending college. Might look good on college applications, too.”

Alyssa bit her lip. “I mean, it sounds nice when you say it like that… but I really don’t have much hope for college anymore.”

Kenji frowned. “What do you mean?”

Alyssa shrugged sadly. “Even with the pay I’m getting from Grayson, plus my mom and brother saving money on the side for me, I barely have enough to pay for the first quarter of college.”

“You seem good at your job,” Kenji ventured. “Hasn’t Grayson offered you a raise or some sort of offer to help cover the tuition fees?”

Alyssa let out an exasperated sigh. “He has, multiple times… Working here is actually one of his offers. But I’m only interested in the job, not the money.”

Her voice quivered slightly as she continued. “The only reason I agreed to Grayson’s offer is that this is supposed to help a lot of people, as whole generations of families who’ve lived in Bayside since their great-grandparents moved here in the 1900s. I can’t turn down an opportunity to help them when Silas is threatening to throw them out of their home and tear it down so he can replace it with a bunch of skyscrapers, especially when life is hard enough for them already.”

She took a deep breath to steady her voice, her face set in stone as she met Kenji’s eyes. “I know you know that Grayson is committed to hiring you; he just wanted to see if we could get to accept the job on a lower salary so the rest of the funds can go to protecting the town from being demolished. If you think he won’t pay you enough, you can take whatever he’s offering me as part of your rate. I’m just here to help the people who live in Bayside.”

Kenji studied her for a moment, mulling over what Alyssa had just told him. After a moment, he shrugged. “Okay, I’m in. You and Grayson can work out my rate. I trust you’ll both be fair.”

“Great!” Alyssa beamed. “I’ll let Grayson know and I’ll get you the paperwork first thing—”

“Under one condition,” Kenji asserted, cutting her off. “You have to accept whatever pay Grayson is offering you.” He gave Alyssa a firm look as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s not charity, and I’m not taking no for an answer. And as for Bayside, I’ll make sure this club can fund both the town and your tuition.”

Alyssa threw him a half-hearted glare, then huffed. “Fine.”

Kenji held out a hand towards Alyssa, flashing her a cocky smile. “In that case, I look forward to working with you.”

Alyssa took his hand, expecting him to shake it. Instead, much to her surprise and embarrassment, he raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it. He shot her a cheeky wink as she hid her face behind her hands.

“So… now that we’re coworkers, shall we talk business?”

Alyssa gave a meek nod, still flustered by Kenji’s teasing.

“Well, since we’re supposed to boost this place’s popularity with the public, why don’t I throw a secret party here tonight and invite the hottest people in Northbridge? It would definitely build up a reputation for The Grand before it even opens.”

Alyssa glanced around The Grand skeptically; it definitely didn’t look like the type of place to host a party…

“Are you sure people will even come while it still looks like this?”

Kenji gave her a lopsided smile. “I can call a few friends to clean the place up a bit before I send out the invites. Besides, if you ever want to experience the real nightlife, this is exactly the kind of place to do it. The hottest parties are the ones at condemned parking structures, warehouses, deserted buildings, places like those. Of course,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, “I bet a pretty girl like you would already know that first hand.”

Alyssa shyly looked down at her feet. “Actually… I’ve never been to a party before.”

“All the more reason have one,” Kenji declared, undeterred.

“I don’t know Kenji…” Alyssa hesitated, still feeling unsure. “I think we should at least ask Grayson for permission…”

“I’m sure he won’t have a problem with it,” Kenji told her, waving his hand dismissively. “He did say it was my job to boost the club’s reputation, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“But what if we get in trouble…?” Alyssa asked, still worried.

Kenji’s expression softened. “Listen, if anything goes wrong, it’ll be on me. I’m the one throwing this party, so anything that happens is my responsibility, okay?”

After a moment of thought, Alyssa nodded. “Okay. But I’d feel better nothing does go wrong.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of everything. Feel free to invite your friends, too. I’d love to meet them.”

Alyssa was about to reply but was startled by the sudden sound of a car engine roaring from outside.

“I take it your ride is here?” Kenji guessed.

Alyssa offered him a sheepish smile. “Yeah... I better get going.”

“In that case, I wouldn’t want to keep your ride waiting. I’ll see you at the party tonight, around 10:00?”

Alyssa nodded and started towards the door.

“By the way,” Kenji called, causing her to halt, “I love that outfit on you. It’s cute.”

Alyssa shyly straightened out her skirt. “Thanks…”

“Am I right to assume you like flowers?” Kenji asked, gesturing to the flowers on her skirt.

“Um, yeah, I guess…”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“... Promise you won’t laugh?”

Kenji smirked as he drew an X over his heart.

Alyssa blushed. “... Roses.”

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t what Kenji said next.

“Well, that’s a relief. Would’ve been embarrassing if you thought they were cliché.”

It took Alyssa a full minute to understand what he was hinting at. She was out the door in a split second, her face burning with more embarrassment at that moment than she had felt in the last eighteen years of her life.

***

“And you just ran out?”

Alyssa moaned and hid her face in her hands.

They were both in Poppy’s apartment, getting ready for the party at The Grand. Alyssa had informed her about the extended invite after the blush had faded from her face (which took about an hour according to Poppy), which the junior editor immediately texted Dax and Kameron about. Poppy then told the boys to meet her and Alyssa at The Grand while she took Alyssa back to her apartment to get ready and to get the younger girl to spill every juicy detail about her encounter with Kenji.

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Alyssa wailed as she snatched one of Poppy’s pillows and buried her face into it. “God, I’m such an idiot!”

“Well, at least we know who K.K. is.”

Poppy was answered by a muffled moan.

“Oh, c’mon, Lyss! It couldn’t have been that bad.”

Alyssa looked up at her friend with a feeble glare. “Yes, it was! And I was already acting like an idiot before that, and now I have to work with him and see him every day and— uuuuuuuuugh!!!”

A thoughtful frown appeared on Poppy’s face as she watched her friend bury her face back into the pillow. She was no stranger to seeing Alyssa be embarrassed or so flustered to the point of not being able to function, but something was different about this…

“Deep breaths, Lyssa. Deep breaths…”

Alyssa took a few shuddered breaths before looking back up at Poppy.

“He… he saved my life, Pops. Him and Talos… and I didn’t even thank him! I was too busy tripping over my words and my feet and...”

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks as she hugged the pillow to her chest.

Poppy gently rubbed the young girl’s back, smiling softly.

“If you want, I could give you some flirting lessons…”

Alyssa gave a light scoff. “Everyone knows I can’t flirt. Besides, it feels weird… It’s like teasing.”

“You and Kameron tease each other all the time. Maybe if you pretend that Kenji is Kameron—”

Poppy erupted into laughter as a look of horror and disgust crossed Alyssa’s face.

“Okay, maybe not the best idea… But just try to relax and be yourself.”

“I was being myself,” Alyssa grumbled. “My stupid, awkward, idiotic self…”

“First of all, ‘idiotic’ and ‘stupid’ are more or less the same thing.” Alyssa shot Poppy an unamused glare. “Secondly, that was you being shy, not yourself. I mean, sure, that shyness is a part of you, but it doesn’t define you. You’re compassionate, selfless, imaginative, and creative. And if that isn’t enough to make him at least respect you, I’ll slap some sense into him myself.”

A small smile tugged the corners of Alyssa’s lips. “Thanks, Poppy.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for: reminding my best friend how wonderful they are, faults and all, whenever she forgets to see it. Besides, it’s not like you have to date the guy.” A sly smile appeared on Poppy’s face. “Although… if this dashing knight in shining armor happened to sweep a certain princess off her feet—”

“SHUT UP!”

Poppy laughed as her friend smacked her with the pillow.

“Okay, okay! Message received! Now, we’ve got a party to get ready for!”

***

Poppy and Alyssa huddled together against the cool evening air as they stood behind the long line of people waiting to be granted entrance to The Grand.

“Is this line even moving?” Poppy asked, shivering as she wrapped her arms around her frame tighter. “And where are the boys? I thought we were the ones who were gonna make them wait.”

“In my defense, there was traffic and Dax drives five miles under the speed limit.”

The girls turned to see Dax and Kameron walking towards them.

“And in my defense, having Kameron backseat driving doesn’t encourage me to go faster!” Dax retorted, glaring at Kameron. “You know, you can take a break from nagging at people every once in a while.”

“He survives off of it,” Alyssa mumbled under her breath, causing Kameron to turn sharply towards her.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Kameron frowned as he looked closely at Alyssa’s outfit. She was wearing a short white and green floral dress with a pink leather jacket. Her hair was curled and hung loosely at her hip while a light amount of makeup had been applied to her face.

“So, I see you discovered the camo-mode I installed in your mask?” Dax grinned at Alyssa. “Figured you’d like it, especially now that you don’t have to wear your glasses to special events in order to see”

“Sure do! Thanks.”

“Isn’t that dress a little short on you?” Kameron cut in, already shifting into his protective mode. “You could've at least worn leggings…”

Alyssa frowned at him. “Poppy’s dress is short, too, and you’re not criticizing her outfit.”

It was true: Poppy had traded her regular outfit for a tight red dress that exposed her midriff. Her hair had also been curled, though she wore a little more makeup than Alyssa.

“I think they look nice,” Dax spoke, his cheeks flushing as he locked eyes with Poppy. “I mean, like, really nice… you too, Alyssa!” he added quickly, throwing a glance at Alyssa.

Alyssa only giggled as Poppy smiled bashfully.

“Thanks, Dax.”

Seeing that Dax wasn’t going to take his side, Kameron crossed his arms and huffed, but said nothing else.

“This guy has a liquor license, right?” Dax suddenly said, a hint of worry in his voice. “Just wanna make sure we’re not participating in anything illegal...”

Alyssa was about to reply when a familiar voice came from behind her.

“May I just say that pink is now my favorite color?”

Startled, she whirled around to see Kenji standing behind her. He flashed her a dazzling smile as he examined her outfit.

“In all seriousness, though, that look suits you.”

Alyssa smiled shyly as her cheeks warmed with a lavender tint. “Thanks, Kenji…”

Kameron’s fists clenched tightly as Kenji chuckled. The fact that his sister’s cheeks were turning a darker shade of lavender by the second didn’t help either...

Kenji turned to address the rest of the group and held out his hand. “You must be Alyssa’s friends. Kenji Katsaros.”

Dax was the first to shake his hand. “Dax Darcisse, I also work with Alyssa and Grayson Prescott.”

“Pleased to meet you. And don’t worry about the license, pal. I’ve got a special permit for tonight.”

“Poppy Patel, Junior Editor of Motif,” Poppy spoke, shaking his hand next. “I’ve heard some things about you…”

She smiled slyly at Alyssa, who turned away to hide the blush on her face.

“All good things, I hope. I’m afraid my ego would be severely damaged if you’ve heard otherwise…”

“I’m sure it could survive the slight dent,” Kameron commented with a slight growl.

Kenji turned to him, still grinning broadly. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

Alyssa shot her brother a hard look, not missing his less than friendly behavior.

“Kenji, this is Kameron. He’s my step-brother.”

Kenji offered his hand to the younger boy. Kameron didn’t take it.

“You’re the DA’s son, right? I remember you from the gala.”

Kenji shrugged. “My mom needed a plus one, and what kind of son would I be not to accompany her? Besides,” he flashed a cheeky smile, “the free champagne was a nice bonus.”

“I noticed,” Kameron stated flatly.

Kenji paid no mind to his insult as he turned back to Alyssa.

“So… What are we still out here for? Drinks are on me!”

Kameron’s eyes narrowed. “Everyone here is drinking free of charge?”

“Those of age,” Kenji replied. “The bouncer has special bracelets for those under the legal drinking age to let the bartender know not to give them anything with alcohol. Also, drinks are only free to those on the guest list. Anyone who isn’t on the list has to pay to get inside, and for their drinks.”

Dax immediately reached into his pockets, his hands fumbling nervously. “Um, you guys take cards, right?”

Kenji laughed and waved his hand, gesturing for Dax to leave his card in his pocket. “Hey, I’m not charging the VIPs of this party!”

“‘VIPs’?” Poppy repeated, her eyes sparkling.

“Well, technically, this little lady is the person on honor,” Kenji explained, throwing his arm around Alyssa’s shoulders. Kameron’s blood boiled as Alyssa shyly smiled down at her feet. “And since you’re all friends with the VIP, that makes you VIPs, too. Now, let’s party! ”

Poppy and Dax exchanged wide grins as they followed Kenji and Alyssa to the front of the line. Kameron hesitated, his blood still boiling, then followed after them.

After Alyssa received her bracelet from the bouncer, Kenji ushered them inside. The area had been cleaned up rather nicely: the floor was no longer littered with old posters and broken stools, and the holes had been patched up. Dust no longer covered every square inch of the area, and the bar had been cleaned and polished. The walls still wore the peeling wallpaper, but the party-goers seemed to pay no mind as a heavily tattooed DJ blasted upbeat music at top volume, causing the floor to vibrate. Kenji led Alyssa through the crowd and clambered onto the stage, pulling Alyssa up with him. The DJ lowered the music just enough for Kenji to shout out to the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, THE GUEST OF HONOR HAS ARRIVED!!”

Alyssa flushed as the room erupted into loud cheers, smiling bashfully as she shuffled behind Kenji. Kameron glowered as Kenji flashed his sister a charming smile before addressing the crowd.

“Everyone having a good time?”

The crowd cheered once again.

Kenji grinned broadly. “That’s what I like to hear! Remember, if you like this place now, be sure to come back when The Grand opens to the public! And be sure to tell your friends!”

The DJ turned the volume on full once again, nearly drowning out the partygoers' loud whoops of joy as Kenji led Alyssa off the stage and back to where Poppy, Dax, and Kameron were waiting for them.

“You guys feel free to grab some drinks. I gotta make a few rounds, but I’ll join you all later.”

“Playing club manager already?” Poppy teased, raising an eyebrow.

Kenji offered her a shrug, throwing a wink at Alyssa. “Gotta make sure my boss knows I take my job seriously.”

With that, he disappeared into the crowd.

“You know, that guy is really working my last nerve,” Kameron hissed as the group walked over to the bar. “What was Grayson thinking? Hiring that playboy…”

Alyssa frowned at Kameron but was greeted by a cheerful young man before she could reprimand him.

“Hey there, little lady! Alyssa, right?”

Alyssa blinked in surprise. “How’d you know?”

The bartender flashed her a smile. “Kenji might’ve mentioned you… every minute or so while we were setting up the place. Plus, he said you were the main VIP of the party and announced your arrival.”

Alyssa blushed slightly.

“I’m Skylar, by the way. From what Kenji’s told me, you’re the boss of this place?”

Alyssa shrugged. “I guess… Grayson’s the actual owner of the club, but he asked me to take over for him.”

“Kenji mentioned that, too. So, what can I get you and your friends? Just keep in mind, you can’t order anything alcoholic.” He turned towards Kameron, Poppy, and Dax. “You guys are free to anything on the menu since you’re all of age.”

Kameron shrugged. “I’m not a real fan of alcohol. I’ll just have whatever she’s having.”

Skylar nodded and turned to Alyssa.

“An orange Italian soda, please.”

“I’ll take one, too,” Dax said.

“Same for me,” Poppy added, flashing a teasing smile at Alyssa. “Can’t have the ‘guest of honor’ feeling left out at her own party.”

Skylar laughed as Alyssa playfully stuck her tongue out at Poppy. “Sure thing.”

After preparing their drinks and pushing them down the counter, he turned back to Alyssa. “So, whaddya think of Kenji?”

Alyssa flushed slightly, causing Kameron to scowl.

“He’s… friendly.”

Skylar chuckled. “Teased you a bit, didn’t he? Don’t worry, Kenji’s one hell of a flirt, but he’s harmless... most of the time.”

Kameron narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Skylar shrugged, oblivious to the edge in Kameron’s voice.

“Kenji has a bit of a rep as a playboy and a showboat. He flirts with just about everyone, but nothing really beyond that.”

He turned to Alyssa. “Though I’ve never seen him this interested in anyone before. You should’ve seen him sooner; he was making a big fuss about having everything be perfect for the party.”

“Well, he said he wanted to throw the party to get people interested in The Grand before it opens,” Alyssa offered. “Besides, Grayson’s pretty serious about the club’s welfare. Kenji probably just wants him to know that he’s taking the job seriously, especially since we’re trying to help people.”

“Well, that’s the thing...” Skylar said slowly. “Kenji was worried about you not thinking he was taking his job seriously.”

A look of surprise flashed across Alyssa’s face. “Me? Why?”

“Kenji mentioned you were a little bit hesitant about letting him throw the party,” Skylar explained to her. “He said you were worried that you’d get in trouble if anything went wrong.” He gave her a curious look. “You know... he told me that he was only going to accept the job if Grayson agreed to whatever rate he demanded, but then you made him change his mind.”

Alyssa jumped at the sound of glass shattering; Kameron had clenched his glass so tightly it had burst into thousands of little slivers. He hissed as some of the needle-thin shards slash shallow cuts into his skin, his drink splashing onto the floor and his clothes.

“Kameron!” Poppy gasped, her eyes wide. “What the hell—”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Kameron snapped as his face turned a light shade of red. “I just lost my grip…”

Fortunately, Skylar hadn’t seen him break the glass with his bare hand; all he saw were the shards and the spilled drink on the floor.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” he assured Kameron as he passed him a napkin. “I’ll get this cleaned up. How about you guys find a booth to hang out in?”

Kameron muttered a thank you to Skylar as he followed after his friends to a nearby booth in the corner.

“It was nice meeting you guys!” Skylar called after them as he swept up the glass. “Especially you, Alyssa. I can see why Kenji likes you.”

That’s it!

“You guys go ahead,” Kameron told his friends and sister, trying not to let the pure rage coursing through his veins show on his face or in his voice. “I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

They nodded and continued to the booth while Kameron scanned the crowd. He was able to spot Kenji in just a few seconds: his red leather jacket and yellow shirt combo stuck out against the dim colors of the stage. The partygoers shuffled out of his way as he wove through the crowd, careful to avoid his stained outfit. Kenji grinned up at Kameron as the young boy approached him, then frowned when he noticed his hand and shirt.

“You okay there?”

Kameron only scowled. “Dropped my drink.”

Kenji nodded. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Skylar will clean it up.”

“Yeah… speaking of Skylar, he had some things to say about you.”

Kenji raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Nothing to damage my reputation, I hope.”

“Is that the playboy reputation, or the showboat one?” Kameron baited with a subtle note of snideness in his voice. “Or are those more or less the same thing?”

A frown appeared on Kenji’s face, but he quickly shrugged it off and replaced it with a cool smile. “Okay, I guess I deserve that.”

“You know, I was more interested in what you told Skylar about my sister...”

Kenji quirked his brow questioningly before realization dawned on his face. He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, look… I understand how you might’ve misinterpreted that.”

“Oh? So I’m wrong to assume you only took the job to see my sister?”

Kenji rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it’s not the only reason…”

His eyes widened when he realized how his words must’ve sounded to Kameron. “Oh, shit! I didn’t mean it like that—”

“I know what you meant,” Kameron snarled, keeping his voice low. “I don’t have a problem with you thinking my sister is pretty or anything like that; I grew up with her, I’m not blind. I just wanna make sure you stay in your damn lane.”

Kenji held up his hands. “Hey, hey. I’m not looking to cause any trouble. I know I probably took the teasing a little too far—”

He only realized his mistake after Kamron looked at him with pure murder in his eyes.

“Wait, wait! That came out wrong—”

Kameron wasn’t interested in anything Kenji had to say. He roughly seized the dark-haired man by his shirt and slammed him into the wall. Kenji visibly winced from the impact but didn’t try to break free. Not like he could’ve; he had no super strength… or anything to protect him from it.

“I swear, if I hear another word about my sister out of your mouth, I’m gonna—”

“Kameron, stop!”

Both men were taken aback as Alyssa suddenly materialized between the two of them. She pushed Kameron off of Kenji, using her telekinesis for an extra boost of strength, before taking a protective stance in front of the DA’s son.

“Alyssa…” Kenji began.

“What the heck, Kameron?!”

The delicate features of Alyssa’s face had twisted into a spine-chilling snarl that caused Kameron to instinctively take a step back. He knew that look was only reserved to warn people they had one last chance to back off before things got ugly. It didn’t help that her eyes crackled with a faint pink flash of electricity.

“Cool off. Now.”

He let out an agitated huff, knowing he was defeated. “Fine.”

He threw one last glare at Kenji before storming off into the crowd. Angry, bitter thoughts swirled in his mind as he muttered a string of curses under his breath. The nerve of that guy! Prancing around like some spoiled prince, eyeing his sister like a piece of—”

“Hey!”

Kameron was pulled out of his thoughts as he crashed into a pretty young girl in a leather jacket, causing her to drop her drink.

“Shit! Sorry, I—”

Kameron paused mid-sentence as the girl cast her hand out towards the drink; it’s decent slowed to a near standstill an instant later. He stared dumbfounded at the girl as she swiped up her drink without spilling a single drop.

She flashed him a sly, bewitching smile as she took a sip of her drink.

“No problem, handsome.”

Recognition clicked into Kameron’s head as the girl sauntered off and slipped out the doors. Shaking his head to ward off the dazy spell the girl had cast over him, he followed after her.

“Hey! Hey, wait!”

He stepped out into the chilling night breeze, quickly following after the girl as she rounded the corner. Once he was close enough, he reached out to grab the girl’s arm.

“Wait a sec, would ya?”

The girl narrowed her eyes as she glanced down at the hand latched around her upper arm. “Fair warning, hon: either move the hand, or I will.”

“I just wanna talk, I swear.”

The girl raised an eyebrow at him, then regarded him coolly.

“Fine. What do you want?”

Kameron released her arm, watching her carefully. She had saved his life, his and Alyssa’s, but still…

“You’re that waitress from the gala.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “It that it?”

“What’s your name?”

A look of suspicion crossed the girl’s face. “Who wants to know?”

Kameron stared into her chocolate eyes, his gaze earnest. “The guy whose life you saved. His and his sister’s…”

The suspicious gaze melted into something softer. “... Eva.”

Kameron nodded. “Well, thank you, Eva.”

The girl, Eva, crossed her arms. She studied him for a moment, suddenly appearing more interested.

“What’s your name?”

“Kameron. Anyways, I—”

“Why else did you followed me, Kameron?”

Kameron blinked. “Excuse me?”

Eva smirked. “I’m sure my name wasn’t the only thing on your mind…”

Kameron raised an eyebrow, then imitated her smirk as he caught on to what she was trying to do.

Okay. Two can play that game…

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

Eva raised an eyebrow as she began to circle him, her movements slow and seductive. “Oh?”

“You’re not exactly the kind of girl that blends in...” Kameron drawled, his voice low and husky as he watched Eva sway her hips slightly. He had to admit, she was beautiful…

Eva leaned closer to him, her lips only an inch away from his. “Is that so?” she purred. Her breath felt warm against his skin.

“It is,” Kameron replied smoothly. He smirked as Eva’s lips grazed his own. “I don’t know a lot of girls who can slow time with a wave of her hand.”

Eva froze, her lips still barely touching Kameron’s, then pulled away with a smirk.

“Well played, handsome. Bet you have all the girls drooling at your feet.”

Kameron shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. You’re the first to catch my eye.”

Eva chuckled. “Careful, Kameron. You’re cute, I’ll give you that, but it’s dangerous to flirt with a girl with powers… especially if you can’t keep up.”

“I don’t think that’s a problem.”

“Oh?”

Kameron flashed her a cocky smile. “Nothing too impressive: super strength, bulletproof skin, the ability to fly… you know, typical powers.”

“I wouldn’t say that…” Kameron blinked as a wicked grin curled Eva’s lips. “In fact, it sounds like you might cause some trouble for me. As smooth as you are, I can tell you play by a certain set of rules; I, on the other hand, break them.”

Oh, shiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

“On that note, I think it’s time I called it a night.”

Kameron wasn’t given a second to react before Eva cast her hand out towards him. The air swirled and swayed around him strangely as he tried to move; he felt like he was swimming in syrup.

“Don’t worry,” Eva laughed as she watched Kameron struggle. “It should wear off in about half an hour. I get the feeling we’ll be seeing each other again, Kameron. Until then…”

Kameron watched as she strolled off into the night, both annoyed… and intrigued.

***

Alyssa watched as Kameron disappeared into the crowd, feeling both annoyed and embarrassed by his behavior. She turned to face Kenji, her scowl melting into an apologetic expression.

“I’m really sorry about Kameron. He can be a little… protective.”

Kenji gave her a small smile as he straightened out his shirt. “It’s okay, really. That’s his job, right? Older brother and all.”

“Still… he didn’t need to get violent. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Kenji shrugged. “Nothing permanent. Gotta admit I was kinda impressed; your brother is a lot stronger than he looks.”

“You have no idea,” Alyssa muttered under her breath.

An awkward silence fell between them, causing Alyssa to fidget while Kenji rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“So… where are your friends?” Kenji prompted, noticing Dax and Poppy were nowhere to be seen.

Alyssa shrugged. “Dancing…”

“You didn’t want to join them?”

“I… I don’t dance,” Alyssa confessed, casting a wary glance towards the dance floor. “I never learned how, so…”

Kenji shrugged. “Well, there’s not really a right way to dance. You just… do whatever you feel the music is telling your body.”

Alyssa watched skeptically as the party-goers on the dance floor jumped up and down in and out of time with the music, flailing their limbs wildly.

“I think it’s telling me that I’ll either get hit in the face or trampled if I try to join in. Besides, I can’t take two steps without tripping over something.”

Kenji frowned slightly as Alyssa huddled closer to the wall. Now that he thought about it, she didn’t seem very comfortable in this environment. Quite the opposite, in fact: she cringed away when someone came too close to her, covered her ears and flinched when the music got too loud, he even saw her shrink away from the bouncer when he had led her to the front door.

“You’re not enjoying this, are you?”

Alyssa opened her mouth to deny it, then sighed and shook her head. Kenji’s gaze softened as a twinge of guilt twisted his gut. This party was supposed to impress her, to prove that he could handle the responsibilities as the manager. Instead, he had made her feel uncomfortable… come to think of it, the party probably wasn’t the only thing that made her uncomfortable.

Kenji glanced around the room, his eyes falling on a booth in a far, darkened corner. He gently nudged Alyssa, prompting her to look up at him. He gave her a soft smile and nodded towards the booth. “Come with me.”

She followed him as he led her to the booth. Kenji waited until Alyssa had seated herself, then slid in beside her. He smiled as Alyssa visibly relaxed, no longer overwhelmed by the loud sounds and crowded space.

“Better?” he asked.

Alyssa nodded. “Much better. Thanks…”

Kenji nodded. “No problem.”

He frowned slightly as his mind drifted back to their earlier encounter.

“Hey, about earlier… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything. I was just…” Kenji paused, wincing slightly. He was about to say ‘messing around’, but it wasn’t an excuse. Hell, it wasn’t a good reason.

“It’s okay,” Alyssa spoke, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Skylar says you like to tease, but don’t really mean anything by it.”

Kenji sighed. That definitely wasn’t the impression he wanted to make.

“Can we…” He hesitated, suddenly feeling nervous. “Can we start over? At least give me a chance, to be honest with you. I’ll answer whatever questions you have for me, promise.”

Alyssa shrugged and offered him a small smile. “Okay… what are you really like?”

Kenji hummed quietly, rubbing his chin in thought. After a moment, a bashful smile appeared on his face. “Well, I’m honestly not that interesting. I’m just a regular guy who works out, plays video games, watching music videos on YouTube… and I like to cook.”

Alyssa tilted her head slightly. Kenji chuckled at her obvious interest before continuing. “My parents taught me when I was little. I remember after they would be waiting for me at the front door when I came home from school, and the three of us would cook dinner together.”

“That sounds nice.”

Kenji nodded, his face falling slightly. “It was. The last time we cooked together was the night before my dad died…”

Alyssa frowned as Kenji fell silent, his eyes dimming slightly.

“I’m sorry…”

Kenji gave her a half-hearted shrug but didn’t smile. “Don’t worry about it… it was a long time ago. It just…” He took a deep breath, the sighed. “Things were so much easier when he was still around.”

Alyssa gazed at him imploringly. “What do you mean?”

Kenji gave her a small smile. “Believe it or not, I used to be a pretty quiet kid; stayed out of trouble, got good grades, that kind of stuff. But I still was a bit of rascal, too. Got it from my dad.” He gave a light chuckle. “The two of us would drive my mom crazy, but I don’t she minded that much, especially when we made her laugh. After he died, things weren't the same…”

A sad look fell on his face. “My mom just cut herself off from everything. She didn’t laugh or smile anymore… it was like all her happiness had died with him. I did whatever I thought would make her happy, or at least proud of me. When high school came around, I spent my Friday nights prepping for debate club and Model UN instead of going out with my friends… come to think of it, I didn’t really have that many friends, or at least that many who really cared about me. I don’t know why it took me a whole year into law school to see how unhappy I was… Maybe I wouldn’t have given my mom more reason to be unhappy if I had realized it sooner.”

Alyssa furrowed her brow, not quite grasping Kenji’s meaning. He noticed her confusion.

“I’m sure you noticed that my mom and I had a bit of a row at the gala about my dropping out of law school?”

Alyssa nodded.

“Well, I can’t help but think that if I had been at least a little rebellious in my teen years, she wouldn’t have had such high expectations for me to fail at reaching, or at least have not been too disappointed with my decision.”

A soft, sheepish grin appeared on his face as he tried to hide it behind his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he told her after a moment, looking back up at her. “I just… I’ve never opened up this much to anyone, not even to my relatives.”

“Then why me?” Alyssa asked, genuinely confused.

Kenji bit his lip, seeming uncertain. “Honestly, I don’t know… I guess I find you oddly comforting?”

He hid his face in his hand once again, but Alyssa could see the faint glow of his blushing cheeks in the dim lighting. She gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face, smiling softly.

“You know… that’s actually the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Kenji looked up at her shyly. “Really?”

Alyssa nodded. “Mmhm.”

She frowned suddenly.

“Is something wrong?” Kenji asked worriedly.

“No! It’s just…” Alyssa trailed off, biting her lip. “I never thanked you for what you did… at the gala, I mean. My friends and brother said you’re the one who carried me out of the building. So... thank you.”

Kenji nodded, his gaze soft. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

A sudden thought crossed Alyssa’s mind.

“Kenji… before I fainted, I saw something… or someone.”

Kenji gave her a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

Alyssa took a deep breath. “I think… I think Talos saved me, too.”

Kenji visibly stiffened. “Are… are you sure?”

Alyssa nodded. “I saw him, Kenji; he pulled me out of the wreckage.” She turned to him. “Did you see him? When you found me, I mean...”

Kenji swallowed hard, his eyes not meeting Alyssa’s. “I… I, uh…”

A loud buzzing sound startled them both. Kenji blushed as he reached into his pocket and took out his phone. A slightly worried look danced across his face.

“It’s Grayson.”

Alyssa winced. Uh-oh…

Kenji gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before answering the call.

“Hey, Grayson,” he greeted, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”

“Kenji. Are you alone?” Alyssa could faintly hear Grayson’s voice ask. “I have to discuss something with you.”

“Uh, just give me a sec,” Kenji replied before pulling the phone away from his ear. “I’ll be right back,” he told Alyssa. “Just… wait for me here?”

Alyssa nodded. “Sure.”

Kenji flashed her a small smile before making his way to the doors and ducking outside, leaving the doors slightly opened. A few minutes passed, then a few more… Alyssa frowned. Whatever Grayson had to talk to Kenji about must’ve been very important. She just hoped neither of them was in any trouble. After a few more minutes, she stood tentatively. Maybe she should go check to see if everything was okay…

Someone screamed, snapping her out of her thoughts. She barely had enough time to register what was going on before another party guest shoved past her, nearly knocking her off her feet. A few more partygoers shoved past her before she was swept into the crowd flooding out the door.

“Hey! Hey, wait!”

Her heart pounded rapidly as her breath quickened as she was forced along with the crowd, the bodies closing in around her. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t see… and it was becoming harder to breathe.

She gasped as she was suddenly pushed onto the hard concrete as the crowd dispersed. The smell of smoke reached her nose as bright yellow and orange lights danced across the street. It took her a moment to realize what was happening: the DMV was on fire.

“Look out!”

Someone’s arms wrapped around Alyssa’s torso and pulled her into their chest just as a car consumed in a ball of fire skidded towards her at top speed. The person turned their back to the car, pulling Alyssa close as they shielded her from the impact. She heard a loud grunt as the car slammed into the person’s back, but was surprised that her savior seemed unfazed otherwise. It was then that she realized that the person’s chest, which her head had been tucked against, was made of cold, hard metal… bronze, to be exact. She looked up to see none other than Talos, who stared down at her with white shining eyes wide with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked her frantically, carefully cupping her chin as he examined her for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“N-no,” Alyssa replied shakenly. “I think I’m okay.”

Talos sighed in relief as he helped her to her feet. “Thank God.”

“How did this happen?” Alyssa asked as they stared at the flaming DMV. Thick fumes of smoke filled the air, blocking out the midnight sky.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think this was an accident,” Talos replied, his expression grim. “Find a safe place to hide, and wait for someone to come get you.”

He turned to go, but Alyssa caught his arm.

“Wait, I can help you!”

Talos turned back to her, a look of surprise etched on his bronze face, but shook his head and gently pushed her back. “It’s too dangerous, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“But—”

“You need to go, now.”

“I have powers, too!” Alyssa blurted as Talos turned away. He froze, visibly shocked, then whipped around to face her.

“What did you just say?”

“I have powers, too,” Alyssa repeated. “Please, let me help!”

Talos’s shocked expression melted away into a more pleading one.

“I need you to get to safety. Please, don’t make me ask again.”

Alyssa opened her mouth to argue but paused as Talos frowned at her. With a sigh, she took a step back.

“Thank you,” Talos sighed gratefully. “Now find somewhere safe.”

She waited until he had taken off, then ducked into the alley behind The Grand. She pressed her finger to the glowing halo on her bracelet, activating her suit, then did the same for her mask. After making sure no one had seen her, she darted out and headed towards the DMV.

Smoke filled her lungs as she entered the building. She tried to see through the thick, dark clouds suffocating her, looking for anyone who might’ve gotten trapped inside the building when it was set aflame.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” she called above the roaring of the flames. “Hello?”

She let out a startled gasp as someone roughly grabbed her from behind and slammed her into the wall. Fear gripped her heart as a man with his body set in flames sneered down at her with a wicked grin.

“Hello, cutie.”

***

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Kameron growled as the shimmering purple field of energy around him began to fade. He sighed in relief when he was finally able to move his limbs at their normal speed. “Finally!”

“Kameron!”

He turned to see Poppy and Dax racing towards him with panicked expressions.

“Where the hell were you?”

“It’s... a long story,” Kameron dismissed. He wasn’t in the mood to be chewed out for his stupidity at the moment. Besides, by the looks on his friends' faces, he could tell there were more pressing matters at hand. “What’s going on?”

“The DMV was set on fire!” Dax told him, a nervous edge in his voice. “It doesn't look like it was an accident…”

“And we can’t find Alyssa!” Poppy added, her eyes wide with worry.

“What?! I thought she was with you!”

“Hey! It’s not like you were keeping an eye on her, either!”

Kameron growled and waved Poppy’s retort aside. “You two get back to the lab, I’ll find Alyssa.”

Poppy and Dax nodded as they took off down the street. Kameron raced towards the DMV, activating his suit and mask. He was about to head inside the DMV but stopped when he heard a scream. It was cut short, but he knew who it was.

“ALYSSA!”

***

Alyssa felt her heart pounding in her chest as the Man on Fire brought his hand up to stroke her cheek.

“What’s the matter, cutie?” he sneered. “Am I scaring you?”

Alyssa turned her face away from him. The man gave a low growl as he roughly grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look him in the eye.

“Answer me.” Alyssa gave a pitiful whimper as he tightened his grip. “Am I scaring you?”

She nodded as best she could.

The Man on Fire chuckled. “Now, was that so hard?”

Alyssa didn’t answer.

The Man on Fire grinned. “You know, I really should thank you for that little tip you gave me... The one about not picking on someone with powers.” He held his palm up just as a flame sparked to life. “It came in handy last night. Don’t think I could’ve gotten away from those cronies in blue if you hadn’t given me the idea.”

Alyssa flinched away from the flame, but the Man on Fire held her still.

“Ah ah ah! Hold still, please. Don’t wanna burn that pretty little face of yours... or do we?”

Alyssa shuddered as the man held the flame closer to her. She felt a tear slide down her cheek as it began to redden from the heat. After a moment of debate, the Man on Fire closed his hand, extinguishing the flame.

“Not yet, I think,” he murmured softly as he wiped her tear away with mock tenderness. “I wanna thank you for giving me these powers... and get a little payback for last night.” Alyssa closed her eyes and shuddered as he leaned in so that he could whisper into her ear. “What do you say, cutie... can you take the heat?”

Alyssa threw her arms out, using her telekinesis to push the man away from her, before making a break towards the door.

“Not so fast, sweetheart!”

Alyssa had only made it a few feet outside before something wrapped around her waist. He gave the fiery rope a sharp tug, pulling her back into his chest. He locked his arms around her shoulders, keeping her pinned against him. Alyssa opened her mouth to scream, hoping Talos or her brother would hear her, but it was cut short when the Man on Fire clamped his hand over her mouth.

“If it’s all the same to you,” the man hissed, “I rather not have anyone interrupt our little date.”

“Sorry to disappoint you then.”

The Man on Fire turned to see who had spoken. Talos stared him down with a murderous glare.

“Looks to me like your ‘little date’ is over. Now let her go.”

The Man on Fire smirked as he pulled Alyssa closer to him. “Let me guess: you’re the other hero wannabe from last night.”

“Actually, that would be me.”

The Man on Fire whirled around in surprise of the second new voice, one that Alyssa recognized instantly: Kameron.

The young man glanced briefly at his little sister before snarling at her captor.

“We could have done this the easy way, hothead. Looks like you chose the hard way instead... big mistake.”

#kenji x mc #eva x mc #hero caleb #choices fanfiction #playchoices hero

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