#been out since Saturday but seeing some nice people enjoy my tags has really lifted my spirits I go back and reread them ngl

[minyard--josten]

if theres one thing I can do it's critically analysis tv shows at least I've got that going for me

[welcometowcwmondaynitro]

WCW Monday Nitro 09/09/1996

Shit be exploding, so you know what time it is.

Yes sir.

Once again we are not given a location this week, which generally means the town is too small-time for the big shots at WCW to even consider giving a shout out to. My research tells me this broadcast comes from the Columbus Civic Centre in Columbus, Georgia.  

As always we are introduced to our first hour announce team, Schiavone and Zbyszko.

Tony is looking quite smart this evening. Larry as expected has a horrific multcoloured abomination on underneath his jacket. It’s basically his gimmick a this point so whatever. 

They talk about how the balance of power has shifted to the nWo and Larry says Giant is “the biggest traitor since Benedict Arnold”, nice ancient reference there, Larry. We get a recap of last week’s awesome show-ending brawl. 

Once they’re done wrapping this up, Goldberg’s music plays. What? I check my file - yes, definitely 9th September 1996. Has Goldberg time travelled back to 1996 and changed history by debuting early?

Well, either that is one hell of a disguise or no, actually Goldberg’s theme music was first used by this Japanese guy called Pat Tanaka. It’s really weird seeing this random fella walk out to Goldberg’s music. The crowd boo mildly - I guess just because he’s Japanese? I don’t remember there being any storyline reason to boo him, anyway. 

Pat’s opponent is... this.

Looks like a mascot from a early/mid-90s video game brought to life. If this is Super Calo then I am curious as to what regular Calo is like. I am unsure as to what makes this version ‘Super’, but maybe we’ll find out in the upcoming match. Mike Tenay joins the announce crew because it is Calo’s debut and Tenay is the only one likely to know anything about him.

Pat Tanaka vs Super Calo

I was kind of hoping Tanaka would start the match with a spear and then jackhammer Calo into oblivion, but no such luck. 

As one would anticipate from a man dressed like a stereotypical kung-fu master in an 80s movie, Tanaka starts the match off with some kicks.

Calo jumps around pointlessly and then gets kicked in the face. Bants.

Tenay tells us Calo’s name and look comes from the “top rap group” in Mexico. He does not name this group. Confusingly wikipedia claims Calo is named after a Mexican rock group with the same name, but his image is meant to convey a rapper. So, just... what? Also what rapper has ever looked like Super Calo? In Mexico is that how rappers dress? 

Well anyway this odd fellow somersaults over the ropes onto Tanaka outside of the ring. 

The screen then cuts to this.

 Then we’re back to the match. OK then. 

Tanaka hits Calo with a powerbomb, which leads to Tony talking about him being “so schooled in the martial arts”. Yes, because we all know that classic martial arts move the powerbomb. Often followed by a leg drop and a scorpion deathlock. 

The ending to this match is beyond ridiculous. 

First, Tanaka puts Calo onto the top turnbuckle.

Neither man seems to know what is meant to happen next, so they awkwardly wrap their arms around each other.

Tanaka then lifts Calo up like he’s going for an inverse piledriver and falls backwards.

Apparently he knocks himself out, gets pinned, and loses.

What an idiot.

Super Calo defeats Pat Tanaka via Pinfall.

Nothing too super about our friend Calo in this one I’m afraid. His victory came largely because Tanaka is a super dunce.

We got some lads in the front row who are big fans of the classic moustache.

They seem quite pleased that Calo emerged victorious.

Just under seven minutes in and we throw back to Mean Gene in the locker room with Rick Steiner. This should be good.

Shirts hanging out of the lockers behind them, as you do. 

Gene asks Rick Steiner about Nick Patrick’s questionable officiating - referring to the incident last week where Luger was disqualified in seconds for basically nothing. Rick says that he had Luger, and Gene saw it. Total bullshit as the match had barely started, and Gene does point that out. 

Luger walks into the frame as we see last week’s replay. Rick is continually going on about how he was going to win, sounding like a mentally challenged three year old. On the other hand this is a guy who also genuinely thinks he’s a dog, so... I should probably be impressed that he is able to form words and put them into a somewhat coherent structure.

Gene says that Steiner is “a little confused” in the understatement of the century, 

Luger tells Rick that he’s “a great tag team wrestler” but he feels like he has the edge in a singles environment. Rick continues to fail to understand basic english and keeps repeating “I can beat you, ask Sting” and then starts calling for Sting.

Gene then ushers Rick away like an unruly child as Luger walks off as well. Gene says that Luger was alluding that Rick “doesn’t have it upstairs”, pointing to his head. Wow, what a dick. Luger didn’t say anything like that. All he implied was that he was a better singles wrestler than Rick. Not sure where Gene has gotten his interpretation from, but my guess is he just wants to stir the pot as usual.

Next it’s nWo announcement time.

Just the usual t-shirt ad with Nash saying “all proceeds go towards the Ric Flair retirement fund”. Joke’s on him, that fund must have accrued some serious cash before it was finally paid out.

We’re back and...

Somebody buy these poor kids some real nWo t-shirts. 

Where did these people come from? Did they decide to stop by Nitro after a corporate dinner or something? 

Are these pilots in the audience as well? Wtf? Why are all these people coming to the show dressed in their work clothes? Is this a common thing in the States?

Oh, hey, guess what - Glacier debuted. I would say “remember all that hype” but if you’ve been reading this sad collection of nostalgic drivel then you will indeed remember the many Glacier adverts that have been on every Nitro broadcast since May or so. We’re now in September and Glacier finally had his first match... on WCW Pro.

Seriously.

WCW Pro is like... Sunday Night Heat or Velocity in WWE terms. It’s below WCW Saturday Night for fuck’s sake.  Tony calls it “one of the most eagerly anticipated debuts ever” - which is why he made his first appearance on WCW FUCKING PRO. Oh WCW, what are you like?

Larry says Glacier will be “a force to be reckoned with”, which, spoiler alert. turns out to be the opposite.

  Oh good, these two walking charisma vacuums.

And these two lumbering idiots. WCW, the best wrestling on the planet. How could WWF in 1996 find no way to entice people away from Pat Tanaka vs Super Calo and The AFC vs the Nasty Boys? Seriously. It isn’t that difficult. 

The AFC do their usual schtick of singing the Canadian national anthem badly and the crowd get angry because ‘Murica fuck yeah and whatever. The Nasty Boys say “fuck this” and attack the AFC after about 10 seconds of this bullshit, getting the match started.

The Amazing French Canadians Vs The Nasty Boys

You don’t care about this match. I don’t care about this match. Let’s just skip to the end.

Knobbs whacks the eyepatch guy with the flag the AFC brought out. Saggs pins for the win. 

The Nasty Boys defeat The Amazing French Canadians via Pinfall.

Mean Gene comes scurrying out to interview the Nastys, for some reason.

Saggs says everybody has been pointing the finger at the Nasty Boys, accusing them of being with the nWo (can’t imagine anybody really cares but OK, sure). Saggs says the Nasty’s are only worried about the tag titles which are in WCW, ergo they aren’t interested in joining the nWo. Does he not realise that faction affiliation is irrelevent as far as challenging for belts is concerned? I mean, Hogan is literally WCW Heavyweight champion at this point in time. 

Knobbs says that the Nasty’s don’t care about the nWo, they’re in WCW and they’re coming for Harlem Heat to take the tag team titles. Short and to the point, which is fine by me, even if the Nasty’s appear to be under the mistaken impression- that joining the nWo would invalidate them from challenging for the tag titles. 

We’re back from a commercial break to find Scott Norton and Sgt Craig Pittman in the ring.

Sgt Craig Pittman Vs Scott Norton

The commentators bill this as a “hold versus hold” match and I’m not sure what this means, as I was under the impression every match is hold versus hold. But whatever. 

After some back and forth Pittman decides that it’s time to ram his head into Norton’s sternum. 

It looks pretty painful and not especially effective, but Pittman enjoys it so much he does it again. 

They head to the outside of the ring. Norton gets whipped against the guardrail, the entirety of which moves upon impact, but then Norton regains control by slamming Pittman’s shoulder into the ring post. 

Norton locks in the armbar but the Sarge will not give up. Long gets onto the ring apron to beg Pittman to give in, but he won’t. WCW, for reasons beyond my understanding, is very careful about protecting Sgt. Craig Pittman. He never gets pushed, as far as I remember, but this man WILL NOT QUIT.

Then... 

Ice Train wanders out wearing this abomination. Seriously - what the fuck? It’s like a demin vest with a backpack built in. It’s something you would expect to see an eight-year old girl in the mid-90s wearing over the top of a t-shirt or something. What clothing brand figured that this design was suitable for huge, beefy dudes? I don’t know, but they clearly have a customer in Ice Train.

Train throws in the towel for Pittman.  

Scott Norton defeats Sgt. Craig Pittman via Forfeit. 

He enters the ring and stares down at Norton, who is looking at Train’s vest top and moobs like “dafuq?”

The two former amigos have a staredown which doesn’t lead anywhere. 

Pepboys Power Pin of the Week is a submission. Go figure.

We head to the locker room where Gene-o is with Ric Flair, Arn Anderson and Lex Luger.

Three of these men are dressed appropriately. The other is Lex Luger.

Apparently Sting is supposed to be a part of this interview as well but is nowhere to be found. Luger assures Flair & Arn that Sting is in the building, but the Horsemen are having none of it and are concerned that Sting doesn’t have his head in the game. Flair starts going crazy and practically flings himself into an alternate dimension with his erratic movements.

Like a jet propeller is being put directly in front of his face.

Anyway eventually these two sad sacks come lumbering in...

Mongo looks like he’s about to explode, whilst Benoit as usual appears barely awake. Mongo yells about not being able to count on Luger and Sting. Luger reiterates that Sting is in the building somewhere, he’s just not around for the interview. The Horsemen do seem overly paranoid here - how hard would it be to track Sting down and talk to him if they are this pissed off? 

Arn says he’s called ahead to Winston, Salem (where Fall Brawl/War Games is being held) to pre-book himself a hospital room as he assumes he’s going to need one. Seems like a somewhat pessimistic thing to do, but is it even possible to pre-book hospital room? Arn is talking like he’s booked a hotel room for the night. Strange lad. He also suggests Hogan uses battery acid to burn out his eyes which... I mean, don’t give the guy ideas, Arn.  

Interview ends with everybody talking over each other and Flair wooing a lot - so, the same as most Horsemen interviews.

People in the crowd are holding these signs which say “nWo - you haven’t seen bad... but it’s coming!” - indeed, Hogan Vs Piper is coming.

We get a recap of this thrilling DDP/Eddie/Chavo storyline which nobody cares about, but why this is recapped is beyond me as the next match has nothing to do with any of those three. 

Instead, out comes “the desparado” himself, Joe Gomez.

Somebody throws a wad of paper at him as he enters. Obviously not a fan.

His opponent is Juventud Guerrera,  who Tony repeatedly refers to as Juventud Guerrero. 

As Juvi enters he runs past these ladies, who appear both baffled and unimpressed with him.

Cold.

Joe Gomez Vs Juventud Guerrera

The match starts off okay, but descends into disaster fairly quickly as Juvi starts trying various lucha things which poor Joe is clearly not comfortable with. First Juvi stands on the apron, jumps onto the ropes as Gomez slowly walks towards him and does this...

It’s clear from this angle alone that there is no way in hell Juvi is going to reach Gomez. In fairness to WCW they switch camera angle just in time to make it look slightly less terrible, although I imagine it was more down to luck than skill. Nonetheless Gomez at least tries to sell the move, falling backwards theatrically.

Weeee! Points for effort if not execution. 

This happens next, and thanks to Uproxx “Best and Worst of WCW Monday Nitro” series (check it out, it’s great) I have a GIF to put into pictures what I would struggle to put into words.

Speaks for itself.

After this Juvi seems to want to go for a hurricanrana from the top turnbuckle but I‘m not sure if they botch this as well or it was the plan, but Juvi ends up backflipping away from the turnbuckle and then catching Gomez with a weak looking dropkick as he jumps towards Juvi.

Juvi just about manages to hit the finishing move...

But even that looks a little bit dodgy. At least Joe just had to lay there for this one. Ref counts to three and mercifully this one is over. Not sure if Gomez or Juvi are to blame for this shitshow, but either way I advise never putting them together again.

Juventud Guerrera defeats Joe Gomez via Pinfall.

For some reason Mean Gene is on the ramp to interview Nick Patrick. Oh good, more of this storyline.

Before they start the interview though, as Juventud walks past Gene and Patrick, Gene says “very good match there on the part of Juventud Guerrera”, then gives Juvi a disdainful look and mutters “guy just kind of... wanders around here”. LOL. Why is Gene throwing shade at poor Juvi? “Guy just wanders around here”, like he’s a lost child or something. I guess Gene is still salty about the interview with Juvi that went wrong a couple of weeks ago, but come on, that was hardly Juvi’s fault. Obvious Gene is still holding a grudge though. 

I don’t think anybody really wants to hear from these two ballbags but here we are anyway. 

Gene is accusing Patrick of making too many controversial calls for it to just be coincidence, whilst Patrick is accusing Gene of being a shit-stirring cock cheese who needs to get a life. Neither are lying but nobody really cares either. What is funny is that Okerlund is very haughty and dismissive of Patrick - until Patrick threatens to take Gene to court - at which point Gene stutters “well I-I hope that doesn’t happen” before saying “thank you very much Nick Patrick, sir, thank you” to Patrick as he walks off. Pathetic. 

Meanwhile Hogan, Hall, Nash and the Giant are outside in the pouring rain putting those nWo flyers with the “you haven’t seen bad... but it’s coming” slogan on random cars. This seems like a total waste of time as by the time the car owners get back to their vehicles the rain would probably have destroyed those flyers anyway.  Do these guys really have nothing better to do? Tony tells us the nWo are “literally” in the parking lot - as opposed to what, being there in spirit?

Ted DiBiase is the smartest of the lot as he 1) has an umbrella and 2) isn’t wasting his time putting up useless flyers in the pouring rain. He’s talking to somebody in the car, and the announcers are shitting themselves as to who it might be, as they tend to do. For all they know DiBiase might just be talking to the driver. 

“HERE’S A STORY OF TWO BROTHERS, RICK AND SCOTT!”

Just Rick tonight. He comes out doing that sad half-bark he does whenever something is troubling him. 

His opponent, of course, is Flexy Lexy.

Rick Steiner Vs Lex Luger

These two are not exactly known as ‘ring generals’ so I am not expecting a classic here. Let’s see, though. Perhaps we will all be pleasantly surprised. 

After various arm drags, headlocks, shoulder blocks, and so on, this happens.

Uh...

Yeah. Rick is basically molesting Luger in the ring and keeps this up for a disturbing amount of time. I guess it’s meant to show his amateur wrestling background but it basically just looks like sexual assault. Rick’s hands are going to places they really should not. 

Hour two begins with the usual fireworks. Bischoff, Heenan and Tenay come in on commentary for the rest of the show. 

Rick hits Luger with a nice powerslam, and Randy Anderson cannot bear to watch the impact. The crowd bark their approval which, personally, I don’t think is helpful. Rick’s clinical lycanthropy is only going to get worse if people bark at him when he does something good. Or bark at him in general, really.

More cuddling. Back away, Rick. Even Randy Anderson is telling him to cut it out at this point.

Luger takes control with a powerslam and signals for the rack. However, before he can attempt his finishing move...

This dicksplash comes running out waving his arms around. Looks like he’s doing the sieg heil there but fairly sure it’s just the timing of the screenshot.

Anyhow, Patrick tells Luger to follow him out the back, yelling something about the nWo beating up Sting.

Considering Patrick’s recent behaviour, Lex, it might not be wise to...

OK. Never mind. Of course Luger goes running after Patrick, abandoning the match entirely and getting himself counted out. 

Everyone looking towards the entrance way like “where’s he going?” 

Rick Steiner defeats Lex Luger via Countout.

We get a shot of DiBiase talking to the mystery man in the limo. Sting’s voice is heard but it is blatantly piped in from some other promo. He says he’s “tired of the DTA stuff, don’t trust anybody”, so I guess he’s not a fan of Stone Cold Steve Austin. DiBiase pretends to talk to the pre-taped Sting voice until Lex shows up.

A guy who is clearly not Sting gets out of the limo and starts beating up Luger whilst Bischoff screams “NO! NO!”

I have the advantage of hindsight and my monitor is probably bigger than most people’s TVs back in 1996... but still, it’s really obviously not Sting. Were people genuinely fooled by this? 

The nWo along with “Sting” beat Luger down and leave him laying in a broken heap in the rain...

It has not been a good night for Luger. First he got yelled at by the Horsemen, then he spent ten minutes getting inappropriately touched by Rick Steiner during their match, then he gets smacked around by the nWo and left on the ground in the pouring rain. Bad times for sure. Although if you’re stupid enough to follow Nick Patrick anywhere... 

Luger does manage to get back up but ends up just kind of wandering around in the rain looking confused whilst the nWo flee, leaving the limos parked outside the building.

These bois are not impressed by what they have just seen. Tenay looks like a dad who is about to grab his belt and put a whippin’ on somebody. Bischoff is indignant. Heenan wears the expression of a man who was just forced to sit through every Raw from 2015. Pure torture. 

Bischoff says he has an update which is literally “we don’t know where [the nWo] are. I’m sorry. I don’t know”. Well thanks for that. Very helpful. 

We get a long recap of last week’s angle including more footage of the amazing all-out brawl that ended the show. Then we get another nWo advert for their t-shirt. 

A bunch of random jobbers are outside with Luger and Rick Steiner milling around the limo yelling out “DIBIASE!” - as if he’ll just pop up and be like “sup bois?” - pointless endeavour. Rick Steiner is the only one smart enough to bring an umbrella outside. Let that one sink in. Luger chucks a bunch of stuff out of one of the limos onto the floor which seems unnecessary. 

Out comes pre-Flock Billy Kidman. The commentators could not care less, just droning on about Sting’s supposed “defection”. 

The other combatant in this contest is Cruiserweight champion Rey Mysterio Jr.

Rey Mysterio Jr Vs Billy Kidman

The announcers spend the entire match in ‘sad voice’, like their dogs have all collectively died. It’s really annoying.

The match spills to the outside very quickly. Rey gets the advantage and rolls Kidman back in. He attempts to jump off the ropes from the apron, but Kidman knows what’s coming and meets Rey with a dropkick to the chest.

Kidman slams Rey in the centre of the ring, runs over to the turnbuckle and leaps off.

Just a two count though. Rey wins the match soon after this by flipping off the ropes onto Kidman.

It looks weak but whatever. This wasn’t anything special.

Rey Mysterio defeats Billy Kidman via Pinfall.

We come back from a commercial and the Dungeon’s of Doom’s “music” is playing, and I put that in inverted commas because it isn’t really music, just a pseudo-creepy OTT villainous laugh accompanied by some kind of chant. Whatever. Normally any sign of the Dungeon is enough to make me want to hang my head in despair, however!

If Meng is involved, it might be somewhat entertaining. Just to note those aren’t two random arms sprouting out of Meng’s shoulders – the Barbarian is behind him.

The announcers are still going on about how tragic Sting’s supposed betrayal is – and Bischoff apologises for “not giving Rey Mysterio the attention he deserves in his match”. I mean, kind of tough to take that apology seriously considering how often this has happened and will continue to happen until Nitro goes out of existence. It is the only time I can recall any commentator in WCW actually apologising for the routine ignoring of the cruiserweights in favour of talking about/complaining about the nWo, though.

These two are the opponents. Yeah, Public Enemy, they definitely deserve that pyro. Sure. Look at them waving their hands in the air like they just don’t care.

By the way, the commentators are still going on about Sting. I wonder if we’ll get another apology for ignoring this match as well? Not that I’d necessarily blame them here.

Some diehard wrestling fans here. I think we saw them previously – seemingly someone in production has taken a liking to these ladies. They look like they got lost on their way to a PTA meeting, but fuck it, might as well enjoy themselves now. Watch out for the dude behind you though, ladies. That smile worries me a little.

The Faces of Fear Vs Public Enemy

We go to a commercial break, and as soon as we come back Bischoff says “I hate to keep repeating this, but apparently Sting has joined forces with the nWo”. Bullshit, if you hated it that much you’d have shut up about it by now. I mean, jeez, we get it.

This contest is just a brawl, as you’d expect. Not exactly a match for the ages, but all of a sudden, randomly…

This dude on the left appears and begins running/skipping around the ring.

The fuck? It’s like Rockstar Spud’s demented uncle or something. 

He briefly chases Jimmy Hart, then just… vanishes? Oh, and by the way, the commentators make no mention of this. They do not acknowledge this at all. Why? Because they’re talking about everything except the match itself. Literally, I’m not kidding, it’s like this match is not happening. It’s like listening to a radio show or a podcast spliced together with unrelated WCW footage.

Wait, what? What’s happening now? The match is ongoing and they just cut to the back. Judging from the faces of these lads you’d think someone died. It’s a sombre scene to say the least – but seriously, why even have the match in the ring? What’s the point? The commentators are acting like it isn’t happening and we cut to an interview as the match is happening. Bischoff doesn’t even note that we’ve cut away from a match in progress, he just says “take it away Gene”, like this is totally normal. Whatever, I guess. It’s not like I’m desperate to see the Faces of Fear versus Public Enemy, but what a bizarre way to structure… everything.

Gene asks Arn to explain what happened in the parking lot earlier. Seemed quite self-explanatory to me and the commentators have not stopped talking about it since it happened, so the viewers really don’t need any extra information.  

Arn says he doesn’t give a shit about Luger losing a friend, or that he’s lost a team mate, he’s just shocked. He brings up Sting’s loyalty to WCW.

They actually move to a split-screen here – I guess someone in the production truck remembered there is actually a match going on. It wouldn’t be fair to deprive the dozens of Faces of Fear/Public Enemy fans the chance to see their favourite grapplers go at it.

Anyway, Arn says he has a sick feeling in his stomach, he’s shocked, and he’s out of words. He’s said quite a few already, though, so not really.

Flair stands there with his arms folded, eyeing the audience like a disappointed father.

Luger says he doesn’t have any answers, and that his “best friend in the whole world” stabbed him in the back. He then says he knows where Sting lives and where he works out, and he’s going to go and find him “right now”. Sounds like Lex is planning to murk Sting. However, he should keep in mind this is a guy who only last week tried to murder somebody by chucking a rock through the window of a limo, then stole a police car. Come to think of it, I’m not sure why Sting isn’t in jail. Regardless, I wouldn’t be chasing after him without a good plan.

Flair screams that he’s “sick of it” and just generally yells about how they’re going to beat up the nWo at War Games (including Sting). Arn says “it’s a fight to the death – yours, not ours”. I suppose that was worth emphasising? Also Arn has a tendency to see these matches as ending in death, even though it never comes close to that.

We return to the Faces of Fear/Public Enemy match. By “we” I mean the audience – the commentators are still talking about War Games. I genuinely don’t think they have said anything about the match – oh, wait a minute, Bischoff does mention the match, finally. Although he says the teams are “literally fighting for their lives” which is not exactly accurate. What is up with these people thinking matches are going to end so tragically?

Anyway, the brawling continues for a while and eventually, somehow, Rocco Rock ends up lying on a table. Barbarian heads for the top turnbuckle.

Guys, I don’t foresee this ending well. Seriously, what is the absolute best result of this? Rocco (who can clearly see Barbarian on the turnbuckle) for some reason lays there and lets Barbarian jump on him. It’ll be brutal for both. Or, Rocco moves and Barbarian crashes through the table. Either way Barbarian doesn’t win in this scenario.

Uh oh. Jimmy Hart is absolutely useless at holding Rocco down, kicked away like an insect as Rocco sits up.

That is a fucking sick bump. It’s funny because Barbarian barely takes any serious bumps at all, on Nitro at least, then he decides to say fuck it and leaps to the concrete through a table because YOLO I guess?

Well anyway he dead. Rocco brings a second table into the ring.

Looks pretty old. Nick Patrick wags his finger in disapproval, but incredibly that isn’t enough to persuade Public Enemy to stop. They lay Meng on the table, then Rocco goes to the top turnbuckle for a moonsault…

He almost misses the table entirely, only catching Meng with his legs. The table is weak enough that it breaks despite the soft contact.

You’d think that would be the spot that ends the match, but no. Meng gets up like nothing happened and starts brawling with Rocco again. Barbarian is also somehow revived and back in the ring fighting with Grunge. This is weird because the outside table spot with Barbarian getting wiped out, and then Meng getting put through the table by Rocco’s moonsault, felt like the end sequence of the match. Now it’s like we’re back at the start again. Keep in mind the match has been going for about 10 minutes now. That’s at least 7 minutes longer than is ideal for these teams, really.

Whilst Rocco and Barbarian are hugging it out in the corner, Meng puts the Tongan Death Grip on Grunge and now this one is over.

No explanation as to what the fuck was going on with that random ginger guy running around the ring earlier by the way. Oh well. During the replay Heenan accidentally calls Meng “Haku” and then goes silent immediately. Oops.

The Faces of Fear defeat Public Enemy via Pinfall.

Suddenly Okerlund appears at ringside, accompanied by the Dungeon of Doom.

Maxx, Jimmy Hart, Big Bubba, Gene, Kevin Sullivan, Hugh Morrus and Konnan. To quote Rufus from Final Fantasy 7 – “what a crew”.

Sullivan is no longer painting his face with those stupid markings, but for some reason is now wearing a white headband. Does he think he’s the Karate Kid now?

He also starts making this derp face - and this isn’t just a screen grab catching an awkward expression momentarily, he’s making this face on purpose.

For some reason we go to Jimmy Hart first, who tells the Giant “it’s the beginning of the end for you, you just don’t know it yet”. I’m sure he’s quaking in his boots.  

Big Bubba then rants about Glacier, talking about him saying he’s coming for “6 or 7 months” and asking if he’s not debuting because he’s afraid. Slight exaggeration on the 6 or 7 months from Bubba, but to be fair it does feel like those vignettes have been running for at least that long. Bubba actually doesn’t seem to be aware that Glacier debuted on WCW Pro, but it’s WCW Pro, so... understandable. Bubba calls the Dungeon of Doom “the masters of intimidation”…

What he means is that Meng is the master of intimidation. The others aren’t exactly adding much to the equation. Maxx is standing off to the side looking distinctly unimpressed by the entire thing.

With that said, bored does seem to be his default expression regardless of what is happening. I imagine he’d have the same expression even if Bubba was in the process of sprouting three heads whilst doing a kossack dance.

After calling Gene “homes”, Konnan calls Sullivan a “hardened veterano”. He then says Sullivan has seen and led gang wars from coast to coast.

Yes, Kevin Sullivan wearing that silly white headband is exactly what I think of when I think of leaders of gang wars. Sullivan’s ‘wut?’ expression here says it all. I’m not sure you can call the Dungeon of Doom/Alliance to End Hulkamania Versus Hogan and Macho Man a “gang war”. I’m not sure two people can even constitute a gang. Also Sullivan may be worried Konnan is unintentionally (?) implicating him in genuine gang wars… which probably isn’t in the Taskmaster’s best interests.

Konnan challenges the nWo to come out and confront the Dungeon, who he calls “the toughest set”. Yeah, sure. The challenge is not accepted, because the nWo are for sure terrified of a “gang” featuring the likes of Maxx, Kevin Sullivan, Big Bubba and Hugh Morrus.

Sullivan says that Savage thinks he’ll owe the Dungeon “a debt” for carrying him out from the ring last week. I doubt it in all honesty – maybe if they’d actually done something to help him before he’d been beaten down and spraypainted. Carrying him out after the fact didn’t really help much.

Anyhow, Sullivan says Savage can repay this fictional debt by first beating John Tenta, because why not I guess, and then by getting rid of the Giant. That doesn’t really seem like a balanced deal. We carry you backstage after you’ve been beaten up, you make it even by beating John Tenta and the Giant. Hmmm.

Time for some nWo propaganda.

Hogan tells us that they “aren’t here for a stinkin’ reason” – directly contradicting Nash and Hall, who had previously made it clear they’d come in specifically to take over WCW. He then randomly says “we’ve got our boss with us” and points to Ted DiBiase, who’s sitting in a chair behind them.

Homely. DiBiase looks like he’s being held prisoner, but whatever. Hogan says DiBiase makes Ted Turner look like a “pauper”. Honestly I could try to recap this whole thing but it’s really just a bunch of random sound bytes ripping on WCW for the most part. They talk about wanting “their own tag team tournament” for some reason. They also want a segment (on Nitro, presumably) where they can “highlight” their talent. What they actually mean is a segment highlighting Hogan, as we’ll discover going forward. Scott Hall says “nWo 4 life” with the hand sign (might be the first instance of this?) and they all end the segment laughing like it was an amazing joke.

I was a satellite dish owner back then – or rather, my parents were - but no WCW PPVs in the UK, sadly. We only got a butchered hour-long version of Nitro on TNT UK during 1996 & 1997. I didn’t find out that I’d been watching an edited version of the show until many years later. At least now I can sit back and relive the glory of the Faces of Fear Vs Public…. eh, maybe TNT UK were doing us a favour after all.

Back with your bois at the announce desk. Tenay once again has that “stern dad” look, whilst Heenan seems to be whimsically remembering something from years gone by. Take a guess as to what Bischoff is talking about?

A)     The upcoming main event

B)     Meltzer being wrong about everything

C)     Blue Chew

D)     Sting’s betrayal

If you’ve been following along thus far, you’ll know the answer. The lad does genuinely hate big Dave though, and loves that Blue Chew. Come to think of it, what is the main event? I can’t even remember. Sting’s supposed betrayal has been hammered into my brain so many fucking times at this point I can barely conceive of any other event occurring at any wrestling show.

Chris Jericho’s music plays, but…

It’s John Tenta? Still got that stupid haircut by the way. Seriously, fish man, you’ve made your point. Get that shaved.

But yeah, I’m confused here. I thought Jericho was coming out. But hold on, that’s Jericho’s second theme, “One Crazed Anarchist”, aka the Pearl Jam ripoff, not the one he’s using at this point in WCW, which I believe is the Journey ripoff. So John Tenta is in fact the OG “One Crazed Anarchist”. For the record, the theme suits Jericho far more than it suits the former Shark.

As he comes out Tenta says “Savage, you’re not putting me down”. You think so, John?

What exactly has that guy in the hat been up to? That is not the look of an innocent person.

Ohhh yeahhh, it’s the Macho Man. The commentators are pretending that the result of the match is in any doubt, which I suppose they have to do.

John “anti-fish” Tenta Vs “Macho Man” Randy Savage

Savage storms to the ring, but that turns out to be a bad idea as Tenta stomps on the Macho Man’s back as he slides in and then clobbers him with a forearm to the back.

Bad strategy, Macho. Tenta’s moobs though… whoa.

That’s an interesting choice of attire for a wrestling event, madam.

Tenta works over Savage in the corner for a bit. Savage then begins to make a comeback, before for some reason attempting to slam Tenta…

Goes about as well as you’d expect. Macho really needs to work on his strategy.

Bischoff actually specifically says here that Heenan accidentally referred to Meng as “Haku” earlier and wants to make it clear Meng now works for WCW and not the WWF. I guess they were really taking this kind of thing seriously due to the lawsuits flying around at this point in history. Funny though, as you hear these kinds of slip-ups all the time. I mean, if TNA or AEW were sued for every time a commentator accidentally used a competitor’s ex-WWE name there would need to be a legal department created specifically just to deal with the fucking volume. At least Heenan didn’t call it “WWF Nitro”.

Tenta hits Macho with a decent looking drop kick – quite impressive considering his weight. Outside of the ring Savage hits Tenta with a steel chair…

He isn’t disqualified because…? He whacks Tenta twice more with a chair. This is not a no-DQ match, but it is WCW, so fuck the rules unless we need them for storyline purposes, right?

Flying elbow drop!

Macho goes up for a second, but then Teddy Long comes to ringside yelling “Macho!” – what could the so-called “godfather” want with Savage? Also where’s my man Ice Train at? Come to think of it, I just remembered what he was wearing earlier… best for him to stay backstage.

Savage still hits the second elbow drop. Long is gesticulating wildly at Savage and yelling something about the nWo. Savage leaps over the top rope with nice agility.

But before we go any further…

Son, I am disappoint. I can’t even say “A for effort” because that is the lowest tier of effort.

Anyway, Savage follows Teddy to the outside of the arena where Teddy announces “YOU GONNA GO ONE-ON-ONE WITH THE UNDERTAKER PLAYA!”

Actually, they run towards a limo.              

The limo drives off as soon as Savage approaches it. What was the point of that?

Flair and Mongo randomly appear as the limo drives away.

There’s another limo there, but only a box of spraypaint inside it. There are a ton of WCW guys out there now – the Horsemen, the Dungeon, Public Enemy, Juvi, Super Calo, Savage… basically everyone who was on TV tonight. They start spraypainting “WCW” on the limo windows… or rather, they try to. Due to the fact it’s been raining and everywhere is wet it ends up just looking like a green smudge. As an aside, if that is in fact not an nWo limo, somebody is going to be in for a surprise.  

For some reason the commentators are all standing up. Tenay is looking more evil every time he’s on camera. It’s like he wants to reach through the camera and strangle each and every viewer.

Seriously though, he is repeatedly making a “pissed-off dad” face.

“Dad, I borrowed your car…”

“Um… and… I got a speeding ticket…”

“And there’s a dent on the front as I kinda sorta knocked over the mailbox…”

Grounded forever.

Anyway, once they all sit back down Heenan goes on a rant about the nWo which concludes with “if we don’t stop them now then they can’t be stopped”. If only you could glimpse into the future and nWo 2000, Bobby.

Oh, by the way, I guess John Tenta won the match against Savage by count out? It wasn’t announced or shown, but Savage jumped out of the ring and never returned, so…

John Tenta defeats “Macho Man” Randy Savage via Countout.

I guess Tenta was right, Savage didn’t put him down after all. Score one for the fish hating weirdo.

Double A suddenly appears on set. Heenan gives Arn his headset. Can’t help but think it’d be better for Anderson to be in the ring with a mic, as the fans in the arena can’t hear any of this… but whatever.

Arn says that the world is “in shock” and “outraged”. The world is probably a bit of a stretch, but OK. Flair turns up as Arn is talking, as do Benoit and Mongo. Arn says that this all began ten years ago with the original Horsemen, and that they paved the way and showed the nWo how to do it. Technically true. Arn says the nWo want to be the Horsemen “when they grow up”.

Tenay continuing to give that evil stare, even at Arn. Bischoff looks kind of sad.

As an aside, I may have mentioned it before, but I really like this shirt design:

Bischoff begins talking about making mistakes, but Flair interrupts him. Flair screams so loudly that the headset seems to take some damage as the volume decreases slightly. Flair explains War Games – although if you don’t know what it is by this point then what have you been doing with your life? – and says Hogan won’t leave War Games alive. Spoiler alert: he does.

Bischoff then talks about how maybe bringing Hogan in to WCW was “a mistake” and that the Horsemen “haven’t been given their just due”. The same exact sentence could have been said in 2000 and been even more relevant.

WCW then ends the show with a replay of Luger getting beaten up by “Sting” and the nWo. I’m sure he appreciates that. A good thing they reminded us, as I think a whole ten seconds passed at the end there without mention of Sting’s betrayal and my memory had started to go hazy.

[wherevermyway]

can’t wait for you (to shut me up) // binsung // oneshot // 18+

pairing: seo changbin x han jisung rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: smut, food kink, roommates, spicy (literally), dacryphilia, don’t try this at home, explicit sexual content  word count: 5,475 also on AO3

originally posted: 14 december 2020

Han Jisung doesn’t turn down a dare. Ever. His roommate and occasional fuckbuddy, Seo Changbin, however, makes Jisung regret being so cocky and arrogant after he gets his hands on some capsaicin extract.

Alternatively: fuck bruh moments, Jisung has an Icarus moment.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

Saturday nights always proved to be bizarre. Jisung’s friend and roommate, Changbin, was quiet and reserved six out of seven days of the week, only completely opening up as he got drunk and played some stupid multiplayer game every Saturday evening. As the night went on and Changbin’s friends logged off, the two of them would usually split a twelve pack of cheap beer together, take a break from their class projects, and do stupid things that usually involved drunken dares.

Jisung was never one to turn down a dare. He had an arrogant nature that would likely prove to be a fatal flaw one day. “You’re gonna regret that,” Changbin would tut, shaking his head after Jisung would accept a dare without hearing it out. Usually, it was something stupid or mindless, like licking honey off of Changbin’s foot, or walking through the library with a vibrating butt plug for as long as the upperclassman deemed necessary.

They weren’t dating — at least, not officially; this was something they constantly stressed with each other and their friends. Their relationship was just an eclectic, liberal interpretation on the boundaries of friendship. Friends could fuck each other after all, right? Honestly, the sex was too good between them to really bother with dating other people, but they did agree that they weren’t exclusive, even if it had been a year and a half of the same strange dynamic.

“You stupid motherfucker!” Jisung could hear Changbin shouting at the television all the way down the dorm hallway. The anthropology student was generally mellow and calm, until he had a couple beers in his system and joined a gaming session with his friend Chan.

The younger blond shook his head with a smirk as he ripped his lanyard out of his pocket, shuffling around to get the correct key to their dorm in between his fingers. The four single-serve shots Jisung snuck into the library for his study session were having an effect on his ability to smoothly rifle through the keys, but not enough to actually affect his cognition. Jisung slid the key into the lock and turned it.

When he opened the door, he expected to see Changbin, but he didn’t expect to see him in a loose, torn tank top and basketball shorts, especially not in the dead of winter. Toronto was cold, even indoors, and Changbin was sometimes nothing short of a madman. The older man was too busy yelling banter into his headset to notice Jisung standing in the doorway with his eyebrows comically raised and his jaw hanging open a bit.

Jisung tried to regain his composure before Changbin realized that his roommate was home, but, as he brought his bottle of beer up to his lips, the older man turned his head slightly, and they made eye contact. A bit of lager splashed up against Changbin’s face; he recoiled and quickly wiped his chin off. Jisung darted his eyes away, nearly forgetting to remove his key from the lock as he shut the door behind him and awkwardly mumbled some sort of greeting.

There was tinny chatter coming from Changbin’s headset, knocked slightly askew, and the older man scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he rolled his eyes and offered a polite wave with his fingers as he stared at the television, mashing some buttons on the controller in his hand. He set the near-empty bottle down on the table and raised his voice a bit. “If these motherfuckers would stop spawning missile launchers and aiming them solely at me, maybe I’d be able to help better.”

Jisung set his bag down on the kitchenette countertop, then opened the fridge and grabbed two beers from the door. He scanned the contents of the fridge, hoping that there was still leftovers from a couple nights prior. However, his face fell to a slight frown as nothing but a half-empty carton of whole milk and seven bottles of beer stared back at him. It was late, and Changbin probably figured Jisung would eat while he was out.

He wasn’t incorrect, but Jisung really looked forward to stealing one of the cold slices of leftover pizza when he got home; it always went well with the Molson Changbin would get for the weekend after class on Fridays. It was a mediocre beer at best, but it was good for mindless drinking. “Bummer,” Jisung muttered under his breath, grabbing a couple of the bottles from the shelf. He closed the door to the fridge and took the magnetic bottle opener off of the door. He popped the caps off of the beer bottles, leaving the bent metal on the countertop as he made his way over to the cheap, scratchy couch, languidly flopping down next to Changbin, putting an amber bottle down on the table next to his other beer bottle.

The older man grunted as thanks, focusing on the enemy in his sights on the screen, his tongue between his teeth and eyes squinting in concentration. This week’s gaming session with Chan featured Grand Theft Auto V, Jisung recognized the map. Changbin had mentioned something about a double XP event, and that he and Chan were trying to get their crew’s ranking higher up the list. It was all some inane bullshit that went in one ear and out the other to Jisung, but he enjoyed listening to it, regardless, since Changbin’s face would light up as he passionately explained just how renowned their crew had gotten.

This also meant that Jisung could get away with being a little handsy with Changbin, especially since he started drinking a little sooner than normal for a Saturday night. He took a long swig from his beer, then set the bottle down on the table, scooting closer to the older man. Changbin didn’t notice, still leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. Jisung crawled his fingertips up Changbin’s thigh, causing the upperclassman to involuntarily flex for a moment, his head twitching to the side but unable to break his gaze away from his match.

Jisung’s fingers kept creeping closer and closer to the inside of Changbin’s thighs, which parted further and further away with each little movement. After Jisung’s fingers landed over the stretched fabric above Changbin’s pelvis, the older man lifted his arm and leaned back a bit. He nodded once, silently granting Jisung permission to continue. The younger man bit his lip in excitement as he slipped down to the floor on his knees.

There were a lot of nice, strange little oddities about their relationship that Jisung loved. About a year ago, when things started to shift from stupid drinking dares to more sexually explicit dares, Changbin had drunkenly dared Jisung to suck him off while he was on voice chat, gaming with Chan and a couple of his friends. “Don’t look away from my face,” he had demanded with a bit of an ironic quiver to his voice. “I wanna look down and see you staring up at me.”

“That sounds like fun,” Jisung giggled as he accepted the dare. “You sure you can stay quiet enough for your friend to not notice, though?”

Changbin flushed, looking away from Jisung as he gritted his teeth. “You don’t hear me in my room late at night; Chan won’t hear anything. Besides,” he rolled his eyes and sighed, “Chan’s heard me get off over voice before, and he doesn’t care; actually probably finds it hot, knowing him. Wouldn’t shock him, really.”

It still wouldn’t shock him a year later, but now he’d give Changbin shit for roping his roommate into it, instead of just handling it himself. None of their friends knew that they were more than roommates, but Jisung’s friend Felix had suspected something was happening when Jisung agreed to be roommates with Changbin again for his junior year of university. Likewise, Chan had made some choice quips about how Changbin should have moved out and gotten a real apartment, not an apartment-style dorm that was ultimately owned by the university.

For this odd dynamic, some things were worth sacrificing.

Jisung worked in a calculated fashion as he offered small licks and nibbles up and down Changbin’s cock. The main objective wasn’t to get him off, just riled up enough to cause a bit of tension. Changbin slowly started to become more and more disheveled the longer Jisung teased him, the final nail in the coffin was when Jisung kept tonguing at his frenulum with progressively lighter and lighter licks.

“I’m done, man,” Changbin growled into his mic, grabbing Jisung by the hair and roughly pulling him back. There was a pause as they stared at each other, the younger man smiling and showing off his teeth with a wide, proud grin. “It’ll be fine, dude,” Changbin continued with a hint of a whine, pressing a couple of buttons on his controller. “We can deal with it tomorrow. I’ve got more important things to deal with.” The older man motioned for Jisung to get up and rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Chan. You’re just jealous. Night.”

Changbin practically tossed the controller across the room after he turned his system off. “You’re trouble, distracting me like that when you knew it was a big weekend for Chan and me,” he tsked, standing up and tucking his dick back into his shorts. “I hope you’re ready for a hell of a dare.” He padded off to the kitchen and Jisung smacked his hands against the coffee table to a loose rhythm.

“I’ll take whatever you throw at me,” the blond smirked. “Favourite part about the weekend.”

The elder shook his head. “You’re not going to think that after tonight.”

Jisung watched Changbin rifle through the cupboards of the kitchen and he tucked his head into his hands. “Come on,” he drawled out with a whine, “all of the stuff you’ve dared me to do has been mild and pretty boring so far. Unless you’re gonna have me walk around naked, blindfolded, and in high heels with nipple clamps down the hallway, I don’t think you can really shock me at this point.”

Changbin paused. The mental image of Jisung’s words must have danced around in his thoughts, because he was frozen for at least half of a minute, letting out a stifled shudder as he turned around. “Not quite that, but it won’t be mild, to say the least.”

“So get on with it. What’s the dare you’ve got in store, Binbin?”

“The first part is simple,” Changbin smirked and leaned back up against the counter, folding his arms. “Let me suck you off.”

Jisung’s eyes lit up, and Changbin already knew this was going to end up poorly. “Hell yeah!” The blond shimmied his shoulders and nodded his head. “I’m already down for whatever you’ve got in store.”

A simple shake of the head is all that Changbin offered in response. He untucked his right hand, showing off a tiny vial with a small, viscous liquid inside of it. “You didn’t even hear the whole dare.”

“When have I ever said no to your dares?” Jisung had a point: a year of dares every Saturday, and he never once declined. It was stupid, though, because he never heard the entire thing through. Changbin would bait him with a good idea, then throw in the crazy idea afterwards. It had always worked out, but tonight’s dare could easily go sour very quickly.

“This isn’t like the others,” Changbin’s smile faded and he shook the bottle between his fingertips. “I know you get really eager over these dares, but this one is gonna hurt. It’s high time you learned to stop being so overzealous, Sungie.”

Jisung scoffed and rolled his eyes, slapping his hands down on the table. “Whatever, whatever, man. What’s the last half of the dare?”

Changbin gritted his teeth and pulled his lips into a straight line. “This isn’t something you can really say ‘no’ to after you actually ingest it.”

“Drugs?”

“I mean, technically? It’s a chemical.”

A confused frown grew on Jisung’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You wonder why I’ve been ordering spicy takeout all week?” He sets the vial down behind him and tucks his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Jisung shrugs his shoulders and makes a noncommittal grunt in response. “I’ve been gauging your tolerance level to see if you could handle an intense dare.”

Jisung rolled his eyes again. “Spice challenges are boring, dude,” he pouted as he looked at Changbin. “We killed that one at Roma’s last week—”

“Twelve million scoville units.” Changbin cuts off the excited junior. Jisung quickly loses the arrogance in his demeanour and sinks into himself a bit as his eyes grow wide. “Yeah, I thought so. Don’t worry, it’d only be two drops from this vial. You consume two drops of this hellfire oil, and I’ll distract you by sucking you off. Still interested?”

There’s a long, uncomfortable pause that hangs in the air as Jisung weighs his options.

Changbin curses something unintelligible under his breath. “I’ve got other, less potent ideas,” he offers, biting his lip as he watches Jisung think.

“Sure, I’ll still do it,” the younger man says with a shrug, like it didn’t really matter to him at all.

“Sungie,” Changbin brings his knuckles to his forehead, shaking his head as he sighs with disappointment, yet still smirks to himself. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Jisung stared at the plate in front of him, with two neon red spicy cheetos set in the middle, one on top of the other. It almost looked like a photo he had seen in one of his art history books, so captivating by its simplicity. He had eaten these MSG-laden salt bombs several times. Adding a couple drops of oil infused with the epitome of lava would be fine, right? Temporary discomfort. Temporary.

“Sungie,” Changbin grabbed Jisung’s shoulder, softly shaking him. “Did you hear what I just said?”

The blond shook his head. “Sorry, got distracted.”

“This is a really stupid idea,” the older man sighed, “like, I really don’t think we should do this.”

Jisung knitted his brows together and scoffed. “I’m not turning this down. We’re doing this, dude.”

There was an irritated groan that came from Changbin as he gritted his teeth and tucked his head into his hand. He stared at Jisung and frowned. “I’m going to regret challenging you to do this more than you’re going to regret accepting this dare, I just know it.”

“That’s on you,” the younger man arrogantly quipped, running a hand through his hair with fake confidence. He grabbed the bottle of beer that was next to the small plate and chugged the last of it, slamming it down on to the table. “Anything to get you to get me off.”

“You know, you can just ask me.”

“Yeah, but dude, where’s the fun in that? That’s so… domestic, like actual couples do that.” Jisung rolled his eyes and smirked. “Anyway, let’s get this over with. Hey, we could film it and go viral or some shit, too, that could be fun.” Changbin deadpanned and scowled, causing Jisung to wave a hand nervously. “It was a joke, man.”

The older man shook his head and grabbed the tiny glass vial, staring into the oil as it lazily sank down the sides of the bottle. He continued to scowl, squeezing the dropper and unscrewing the lid from the glass. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated, yet still brought the dropper over the red snacks.

“Shut up,” Jisung folded his arms and sighed. “If you really didn’t want to do this, you wouldn’t be going through with it. Just admit you wanna watch me sweat and cry and suffer and call it a day. You’re such a sadist.”

A flush crept up on Changbin’s face. He said nothing, just shook his head and dropped a single, quick drop of oil on each nuclear red corn puff. As he hovered his hand over the plate, Changbin nervously looked up at Jisung and opened his mouth to say something.

“Nope,” Jisung grumbled, shaking his head. “I’m not backing out of this, so don’t say anything.”

The older man rolled his eyes, then screwed the cap back on to the vial. “Fine,” he muttered, standing up and making his way into the kitchen. “Then I’ll just tell you that, again, you’re an idiot for accepting this.”

“You’re an idiot for suggesting this!” Jisung shouted and let his jaw hang agape for a moment, hands thrown up in the air in disbelief.

Changbin spun around on his heel and pointed a finger in Jisung’s direction. “You need to stop accepting dumb things without hearing the whole thing first!”

Jisung pouted and dropped his hands, recoiling a bit. “I only accept these things from you because I trust you, Binbin.”

The way Jisung’s voice went from an irritated shout to a soft whine caused Changbin to visibly wince. “Sungie,” he started, bringing his palm to his face with a heavy sigh. “That was harsh of me, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I guess,” the blond mumbled. “Just grab the stupid milk and get back over here. The whole point of this was so you’d suck my dick and distract me anyways.”

Changbin did as requested, but the air in the room was different now. He set the carton of milk down on the table and tugged his tank top down, playing with the hem of his shirt as he sat down on the couch. “You gonna be okay?”

Jisung took in a deep breath, looking away from the plate in front of him, turning his head to look at Changbin. They stared at each other for a moment, and then nervousness behind the blond’s eyes faded as he arrogantly smirked. “I’ll feel a lot better once you’re between my legs and doing your best to distract me.”

The older man couldn’t help but deadpan again, rubbing his temples with his middle finger and thumb. “You’re something else, Jisung,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, but you like that about me.”

“It’s true,” Changbin shrugged, dropping his hand to his lap. “You ready?”

Jisung turned to look at the plate and he nodded once. “This is a dumb idea, but fuck it.” He reached his hand out to the hellish crisps, fingers twitching a bit as he grabbed both of them off of the plate. He turned to look at Changbin, whose eyes were wide as he swallowed with anticipation.

“You sure about this?”

“Shut up, Changbin.” Jisung rolled his eyes, then shakily put the food into his mouth.

He chewed for a couple of seconds, nothing really happening. Maybe the oil that Changbin got from his friend Hyunjin was a dud. Then, he swallowed and everything started to fall apart. Rapidly.

Jisung’s eyes went wide as he coughed and shook his head a second later. “Oh my god!” He panicked, hands flailing and fanning his head as his face reddened. “Jesus fucking Christ, that’s—” he choked on his own saliva, coughing up a fit. Changbin’s face contorted in reactionary terror, reaching out to the carton of milk, offering it to Jisung as the younger man shook.

“This was a horrible idea, why the fuck did you go along with this?”

Jisung ignored Changbin’s comment, practically drowning himself in milk as he choked down the liquid, trying to swallow it and breathe at the same time. “Hot,” garbled up from his throat, some of the white liquid sputtered up into the air as he spoke, some dribbling down his chin. “Changbin,” Jisung whined, his eyes teary, glistening as much as his face was as it started to sweat, some visibly beaded up on his forehead. “Distract me,” he managed to pant out between gasps, wiping his face off with one hand and motioning towards his lap with the other.

“You’re a madman,” Changbin licked his lips, biting at the inside of his cheek as he watched Jisung unravel into a sweaty, teary mess. If Jisung could focus on anything other than the stinging, stabbing pain in his mouth, he would have noticed that Changbin was enjoying this a bit too much. Instead, he wanted to rip his tongue out of his mouth and forget he ever existed.

He decided, right then and there, that he was never going to take on a dare like this again.

Changbin stumbled to the floor, too busy watching Jisung writhe and sweat to pay close attention to undoing the button and zipper to the younger man’s jeans. The blond leaned back into the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling as he panted and whined, letting out strings of profanity as he suffered. Sweat, tears, and saliva dripped down his face, making Jisung’s face shimmer in the bluish white light of their dorm.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jisung loudly whined, shakily reaching a hand up Changbin’s head, curling his clammy fingers in his hair, “distract me, come on.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Changbin apologized, tilting his head down to focus on getting Jisung’s cock to spring free from the confines of his jeans and boxers. Surprisingly, it was already half-hard, causing Changbin to lift one of his eyebrows and offer a quip. “Excited over this, huh?”

Jisung groaned, rolling his head back and pushing Changbin’s head down. “Not distracting me,” a long, drawn out whine interrupted his sentence, “like you promised.”

Changbin chose not to say anything, instead he dug his elbows into the couch as he worked Jisung’s cock into his mouth. He gently pressed the tip of his tongue against the base, eliciting a small squeal from the younger man, who twitched and whimpered in response.

“More, please.” Jisung rolled his shoulder blades up against the back of the couch, furrowing his brows and wiping his forehead haphazardly with his free hand. “Wanna fuck your mouth, wanna come all over that pretty face of yours.”

The older man curled his lips in a devious smile. “I just said I’d suck you off,” he pulled back a bit, looking up at Jisung with a bit of snark, “not that I’d get you off.” Changbin flashed his teeth with an evil grin, until Jisung lifted his head and wildly stared down at him.

“If I didn’t feel like my face was about to fucking melt off,” Jisung hissed through his teeth, trying to stay relatively composed, “I swear to god I—” Changbin firmly gripped the base of Jisung’s cock and wrapped his lips around the head, sucking at it hard enough to cause the blond to stutter over his words. “Distracted, yeah,” he weakly moaned out, letting his head lull back.

There was an audible pop as Changbin pulled his lips off of Jisung’s head. “Distraction and sucking your dick was what the deal was.” He continued to grin, letting his hand continue to work Jisung’s shaft as he watched the younger man’s face contort in reaction. “Maybe once everything’s settled and you stop crying over a little pain, I’ll give you what you really want.”

Tears continued to stream down Jisung’s face no matter how much he tried to mop them up with the back of his hands. There was a fair amount of runny mucous dripping from his nose, too, rendering him into a sloppy, sticky mess.

Admittedly, it was a bit gross, but Changbin found it more disturbing that seeing his junior fall apart made him painfully hard. The way his tears shined on his pink cheeks, the way he whimpered and mewled in discomfort, all of it was strangely arousing to him. “Maybe we should shower first,” Changbin laughed to himself as he moved back down and wrapped his lips around Jisung’s cock.

“Maybe you should,” Jisung panted heavily, looking down to the older man, gasping as he spoke, “should go fuck yourself.”

Changbin looked up at the underclassman and flipped him off with a free hand. He hummed a laugh, the vibrations causing Jisung’s eyes to cross. The younger man threw his head back and rolled his hips up into Changbin’s face, causing the upperclassman to choke a bit, not expecting to feel Jisung’s cock hit the back of his throat.

Jisung pulled his shirt up and off as Changbin continued to bob his head up and down, circling his tongue around the length in his mouth. “Fuck,” the younger man whimpered, hastily wiping his face with his shirt as if it were a kitchen towel. He continued to let out a few strangled curses as he ran a hand through his hair.

Changbin offered a few more tongue flicks against Jisung’s cock before pulling away and standing up. “Come on,” he offered a hand to the perplexed man on the couch, “as much as I’m loving this, I really just wanna get fucked by you.”

After some extensive handwashing and some half-assed showering, Changbin found himself bent in half over his bed, with two of Jisung’s fingers inside of him. “I should just fucking edge you,” the younger man quipped with a smirk on his face, watching his elder twitch his fingers against the bedsheets, awkwardly scrambling for purchase.

“Please,” Changbin whined, “I gave you what you wanted, Sungie.”

“Yeah, you did.” Jisung slipped a third finger inside, biting his lip back as the upperclassman writhed and moaned underneath him. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t wanna see you suffer a bit as payback.”

Changbin gritted his teeth, turning his head back a bit to stare up at Jisung. “Fuck you, I told you what you were getting into. Hell, I warned you several times.”

“You had your fun,” Jisung bent over and nipped at Changbin’s shoulder. The teeth sinking into his skin caused the older man to let out a bit of a moan. “My turn, now.” He curled his fingers down, causing Changbin to drop further, letting his head collide against the mattress as he mumbled incoherently in approval.

“Yeah, I like that. You should keep your mouth shut more often, huh?” Jisung rocked his fingers back and forth a bit, then gradually started pumping them in and out of the man beneath him. “I bet you probably loved watching me cry out there, didn’t you?”

Changbin attempted to choke out an affirmation, but he was too lost in the feeling of how Jisung’s fingers moved inside of him to coherently respond.

“Figures,” Jisung tutted. “You’ve always been a weird one. I’m feeling impatient tonight, Binbin. While I’m annoyed you enjoyed making me cry, I’m tired of being hard.” He pulled his fingers out, then brought his hand to his cock, wiping some of the lube around it. Changbin opened his mouth to speak, but Jisung cut him off, slowly pushing his cock inside of the older man.

Instead of spouting off of a bold comment, Changbin lets out a throaty groan, gripping the sheets tighter. Jisung slowly pushes himself completely inside the upperclassman, a smirk growing on his face as he watches the man under him twitch. “You feel nice,” Jisung breathes out, moving his hands to both of Changbin’s hips, “you feel so nice. Want me to keep moving?”

Unable to form a coherent sentence, Changbin simply nods, and Jisung smiles. The younger man grips the hips in his hands tighter as he slowly moves in and out. The men exchange a myriad of lewd noises between them as they blend together.

“Jisung,” Changbin arched his back, tilting his head closer to the younger man. He didn’t have to respond for Jisung to know what he wanted.

The younger man shifted his hand from Changbin’s left hip up into his hair, running his fingers through the soft, damp, brown locks. It started off as a soft tug, then he quickly drew his hand into a fist and pulled back, eliciting a sharp cry from the older man.

This was Jisung’s favourite part of their interactions. Changbin liked to be pushed around a little bit after Jisung completed his dares. “Who’s gonna cry now, hmm?” He ruffled his senior’s hair around a bit, then tugged on it again as he thrusted in hard, stilling his movements. “Asked you a question, babe.”

“You can’t make me cry,” Changbin said, choking back tears. It was a bold-faced lie, they both knew that, but it fed into the moment.

“That a dare?” Jisung scoffed, then tugged at Changbin’s hair once more.

A whine escaped Changbin, eating away at his confidence. “Of course it’s a goddamned dare.”

“It’s always a dare.” As soon as Jisung finished speaking, he started roughly fucking into Changbin. The brunette tried to dip his head down and lose himself in the moment, but the blond held his head up by the hair gripped between his fingers. “I’m not gonna stop until I see you break, babe.”

“You’re gonna,” Changbin mumbled, “gonna have to try harder than that.” He tried to sound confident, but it was obviously false confidence. A few tears fell from his eyes, causing Jisung’s lips to curl upwards.

“Aww,” the underclassman mocked, “you’re doing a terrible job at faking it.”

Jisung let go of Changbin’s hair, letting the brunette’s head drop, then moved his newly-freed hand down to stroke he upperclassman’s cock. His stroking was a bit frantic, his thrusts becoming less and less controlled. “Want me to come on your back like always?” His voice cracked a couple of times as he kept moving.

Surprisingly, Changbin shook his head. “N-no,” he whined, “inside. Come inside me.”

“Really?” Jisung knitted his brows in confusion. That was something they had never done before, and the idea made his stomach flip. “If you’re being serious, I need to know, Bin.” He panted once before Changbin nodded his head.

“Just fucking come inside of me,” the brunette whined, “I’m so close and it’ll—”

Before Changbin could finish his statement, Jisung doubled over and let out a shuddering moan. He kept pumping the cock in his hand, but his movements were disjointed. Changbin shakily reached between his legs, wrapping his hand around Jisung’s, helping the younger man finish him off.

It took maybe two strokes before Changbin came on to his sheets. They would have to clean the sheets later, but that was fine. Hell, they could just sleep in Jisung’s bed, if they were really that out of it. Feeling the sticky, sweaty weight of Jisung atop him was worth it. They awkwardly laid there for a few moments, catching their breath.

“Hey, Jisung?”

“What is it, Bin?”

“No more fucking dares. At least,” Changbin sighed and rolled his eyes, “think them through before accepting them first, yeah?”

Jisung smiled, planting a kiss between Changbin’s shoulder blades. “I’ll consider it. No guarantees, though.”

“You just want me to keep fucking you after you complete a dare, don’t you?”

“Technically,” the younger man shrugged as he shakily rose to his knees, “I fucked you this time. But yeah, I want you to keep doing that. I wanna keep this up.”

“You’re so fucking dumb.” Changbin pushed himself up by his palms, his arms trembling a bit from all of the activity.

Jisung looked down at Changbin before pulling the older man back by the shoulders. “Yeah, but you like that about me.” Changbin opened his mouth to protest, but found his lips locked with the younger man. The energy between them as they kissed was different than their usual kisses. This was needier, more intimate and felt special compared to the others.

The older man broke away from the kiss first, for just a moment, looking down, then back up to make eye contact with the younger man. “I don’t want you to date anyone else.”

“What?” Jisung pulled back, blinking rapidly.

Changbin rolled his eyes, his expression softening. “You’re so dense, Sungie. We should be exclusive.”

Jisung shook his head. “No, no, I get that.” He smiled, awkwardly giggling at the same time. “I just never thought you’d be so cute about it.”

The brunette gritted his teeth and his expression fell into a scowl. “Don’t call me cute.”

“Fuck you,” Jisung laughed. “If you wanna actually date me, then get used to it.”

“You know what?” Changbin shifted his position a bit, letting Jisung’s cock fall out of him and cum drip down his legs as he turned. He grabbed the younger man by the shoulders and pinned him down to the bed. “Maybe I just will.”

They exchanged playful smirks with one another before they connected their lips together once more, kissing each other a bit more tenderly than they usually did.

“The boyfriend instead of the roommate,” Jisung quipped, bringing his hands up to Changbin’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

Changbin pushed a soft kiss to Jisung’s lips before pulling back with a smile. “Me too.”

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: The Flowers That Had Torn Them Apart

Author: @gravestone-monarch (Grave)

For: @creepioz

Pairings/Characters: Established Hinanami, Komahina

Ratings/Warnings: Major character death, blood, angst, unrequited love

Prompt: 1) Coffee Shop AU 2) Any Angst 3) Hanahaki’s Disease

Author’s Notes: So, hello there! I’ve never written Komahina or hanahaki before, so I’m sorry if some things seem out of place! (It also doesn’t help I haven’t played SDR2) (this probably isn’t very reassuring huh)

I know I was probably just supposed to pick one prompt, but I looked at the list and the story just clicked in my head

So now you have this!

I really hope you enjoy it! I did *shudders*

rEseArCh

For this so hopefully it’s up to standard!

Also I know it says Hinanami in the tags, it makes sense in the story (this isn’t a hinanami centered story I swear)

Once more, enjoy!! ^^

Komaeda had been getting his lunches at the Jabberwock for as long as he could remember. He practically lived in it at this point. Each day he’d come in, order, sit for an hour and leave. Day in, day out. He was lucky the little coffee shop hadn’t closed yet. Usually he has rotten luck.

But one day, something changed.

The something that would inevitably be the death of him.

He walked in one day and noticed someone new at the counter. Short brown hair, heterochromia, well toned…

Well, he was certainly attractive, Nagito would give him that.

He walked up and stood in the queue, checking his phone for the time. He was here a bit earlier than usual.

“Next!”

His head snapped up as he realised the relatively short queue had depleted.

“Ah, so sorry!” He said to the man.

“No problem. What can we get you today?” The person said.

“Mm… I’ll have the usual.” He said. The cashier raised an eyebrow, then sighed.

“Sir, this is my first day. What’s ‘the usual’?”

“Oh!” Nagito chuckled nervously. “Sorry about that…” he looked down at the person’s nametag. “…Hajime.”

“Mhm, it’s fine. Honestly, it’s already happened three times this morning.”

“Really? That’s almost impressive.”

“Almost, yeah.” Hajime grinned slightly. “Now, what’d you say you wanted?”

“Oh, right! Well…"

He gave Hajime his order, and seeing as there was nobody in the queue behind him, he stood talking to him for a few minutes.

He learned a lot about Hajime in the time he had. He was the same age as Nagito, and actually went to the same college, despite being in different courses. Nagito told him he wasn’t sure what he was planning on doing with his future. Hajime agreed.

"Yeah, not sure either, really. It’s a writing course, so it could really go anywhere. Journalist, author, scriptwriter… you get the point.” Hajime said, Nagito nodding.

“I see! Sure does give a lot of hope, doesn’t it? Knowing you’re not stuck on one path… it’s great!”

Hajime looked at him. “Yeah, probably. Oh, your order’s ready.” Hajime told him, writing Nagito’s name on the cup.

“Oh! Thank you so much, Hajime.”

“No problem. That’ll be ¥360.”

Nagito passed over the money as Hajime passed him his coffee. Their fingers brushed for just a moment. Neither said anything, but Nagito felt his pale cheeks flush slightly.

“Well, I’ll be sitting over there now. Bye, Hajime.” Nagito said, waving. Why was he waving? Was he on waving terms with this guy?

He was being awkward.

Hajime laughed, shaking his head. “See ya, Nagito.”

Nagito smiled back at him, almost a bit too wide, as he sat down, taking a sip out of his coffee. It tasted slightly different today, but… not in a bad way. It almost tasted better, actually.

“Huh…”

He didn’t pay it much mind, just enjoying the taste as he pulled out his laptop. He had decided to get a bit of work done while he was at the Jabberwock today. His next paper was supposed to be about lesser known or folklore diseases. After a bit of research, he had decided on a certain disease that had caught his attention.

“Now, how do I start this..?” He wondered to himself. After a moment, he opened his document and started typing.

The hanahaki (ha-na-ha-ki) is a fictional disease that affects people with unrequited love.

As he finished his coffee, he saved his work, closing his laptop. As he was about to throw out the cup, something caught his eye. Where he thought his name was, a series of numbers had been scribbled.

You seem cool. Call me, if you want

xxx-xxxx-xxxx

-Hajime

Nagito’s breath hitched. That was Hajime’s number, right? He couldn’t believe it. Hajime gave someone like him his number?

Woah.

He looked back over at the counter, where Hajime had started serving another customer. As he turned around to start his customer’s order, he caught Nagito’s eye. He gave one last smile before turning away.

Nagito smiled, putting the empty cup in his bag. With one last glance back, he left. Until the next day, at least.

Hajime and Nagito got to talking over the next few weeks. Hajime told Nagito his schedule (Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays) and Nagito made sure to come in on those days, if he couldn’t make it on the others.

They learned a bit more about each other over the weeks. Hajime was born on New Year’s, leading to parties doubling as New Year’s and birthday parties (despite him not always enjoying them.) Nagito was born on April 28; his birth month representing death, sorrow and horrid luck, but his birth date representing increased luck and fortune. As such, he’s always had a weird mix of luck, which Hajime just found kinda funny.

Nagito started getting staff discounts, which was great. Both were born into rich families though, so it didn’t make much difference to either.

Nagito did end up asking why he started working at the Jabberwock if he already had enough money to last him a lifetime. Hajime responded with I’m not really sure. I suppose I just… had a feeling. Besides, what harm could a bit of extra pocket change do?

Nagito got his paper submitted on time. Hajime helped him out at parts, knowing a surprising amount about the disease. Once he finished, Hajime congratulated him with a free meal.

Honestly, Nagito didn’t feel like he deserved it. Hajime’s friendship, he means. Sure, he was kind of frank at times, almost vaguely rude to people he doesn’t like, but he was able to put up with Nagito’s rants about whatever was on his mind, which wasn’t easy, considering his random theories and such.

He was nice.

Nagito knew he was falling for the man. He’d be a fool not to. The man was attractive, nice, understanding… yeah, Nagito definitely had a crush.

The days when Hajime wasn’t in work were the lonely days, as Nagito called them. They just felt emptier, since he started talking to Hajime.

Nagito wasn’t entirely sure what to do about his feelings. Becuase, let’s be honest here. 'Why would Hajime ever like someone like me? Besides, he’s probably straight.’

But he knew he couldn’t keep it in forever. It’d get too much to handle at some point. He was getting distracted in his classes for thoughts of Hajime. So one day, he decided.

He’d just tell Hajime so he could reject him. Get it over with. If he was lucky, maybe Hajime wouldn’t be totally repulsed. Maybe he’d still want to maintain a friendship! Wouldn’t that be great?

So that Saturday, he decided he’d say it.

Now, he was just counting down the days.

Saturday rolled around, and Nagito made his way to the Jabberwock. He probably wouldn’t stay too long today; he’d just say it and leave. But when he walked in, he noticed something.

Hajime wasn’t there.

“Huh..?”

Wasn’t that just his luck?

The day he finally decides to be honest, the object of his affections isn’t even there.

Well, that’s fine too. He can just come back in a few weeks. Maybe a year. Perhaps a century or two. Not too long, right?

He sighed, turning to leave. As he turned though, he slammed right into someone.

“Ah, sorry! I- Nagito?”

Nagito looked up at Hajime, who he had just slammed into.

“Oh, hello Hajime! I’m so sorry about that, I had no right to touch you like that, I-”

“Hey, hey Ko. What’d we say about the self-deprication?” Hajime said, raising an eyebrow.

“R-right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Actually, I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted you to meet someone.”

“Ah, has Hajime made a new friend? How wonderful!”

“Haha, you could… yeah, you could say that.” He gestured to the girl beside him, who Nagito hadn’t even registered until now. She had pale pink hair and was wearing a navy hoodie, holding her phone. He could hear faint Tetris music coming from it.

“Nagito, I’d like you to meet Chiaki Nanami, my… my girlfriend.”

Nagito could’ve swore his world just broke.

The floor felt like it was crumbling apart, the walls falling beneath their own weight.

“Hey.” The girl greeted. Both smiled at him like they hadn’t just broken his heart.

Well, they didn’t know, did they?

“A-ah… n-nice to meet you, Nanami… I’m- I’m so sorry, but I really must go. I- I don’t feel the best.” Nagito spit out that lame excuse as he advanced to the door.

“Oh, you need a lift? I could-”

“No-! ahem, I mean… no thanks, Hinata. Thanks for the offer. Bye.”

He pushed the glass door open and walked out, quicker than he had ever walked before. He didn’t live too far away, luckily enough, so he walked home quick enough, just desperate to get away from it all.

“Hm.” Hajime hummed.

“What’s up with him?”

“Not sure… a-anyways, what would you like?”

That night, the flowers started.

It was only a petal at first. He was sitting at his desk, booting up his laptop to take another look at his paper. Something had been bugging him about it, he just wasn’t sure what.

This wasn’t the first thing he’d done when he got home. His pillow was definitely tear-stained and he’d run his box of tissues dry. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, though.

He had finally gotten over the throbbing in his head the crying had given him and sat down to re-read it when he felt a tickle in his throat. He tried clearing his throat, which turned to a full on coughing fit. At the end of it, he finally coughed it up.

A small daffodil petal, a bit smaller than his thumb.

Nagito froze, staring at the petal.

He just coughed that up, didn’t he..?

He looked from the petal to the computer screen in horror, not taking long to put it all together.

He thought the disease was fictional… but he had most definitely just coughed this up.

Nagito had the hanahaki disease.

He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Lucky for him, he’d already done his research, so he knew the deal. Flowers blossom in the victim’s lungs, eventually rendering them unable to breathe and suffocating them. The only cure was for the victim’s feelings to be romantically requited. You could also get surgery, but that results in you being incapable of romantic love, and Nagito couldn’t bear that. Despite knowing he didn’t have a chance with most anyone, especially Hajime, he’d like to make himself believe he still has.

Now, here was the kicker.

In most of the stories he’d read, the victim simply believed their love interest didn’t like them. But not in his story, oh no. Hajime was already romantically involved. That meant he most certainly didn’t feel how Nagito did. And if Nagito was going to avoid the surgery…

“I’m going to die.” He concluded, putting his head in his hands. He didn’t have enough energy or tears to cry anymore, so he just sat there, letting the cold truth set in.

It already felt harder to breathe.

It only got worse over the next few weeks.

After only three days a full daffodil head had come up, while he was in the Jabberwock, no less. It was getting increasingly harder to hide it in front of others.

Especially Hajime.

Hajime was usually very observant. He usually knew when someone was lying or hiding something from him, so he had to pull out his best acting skills.

Which, admittedly, were those of a teenager.

While he sat there, he was constantly clearing his throat, trying to force down the seemingly harmless flowers clawing their way up.

Luckily for him, the same person that put him in this situation was his unaware cover.

Chiaki.

As much as Nagito hated it, Hajime was now a lot more preoccupied with his girlfriend, which meant if Nagito needed to slip away to choke up a flower or two, he could do just that.

He didn’t know how to feel about Nanami. Sure, on one hand, she was basically the reason he was walking up Death’s driveway. But on the other hand, it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own for having these feelings

How does that one song go?

How could I hate her? She’s such an angel.

But then again, kinda wish she were dead.

Not to that extent, but that basically sums up his feelings about her.

Feelings very unlike those for Hajime.

He did a bit of research when he could. Why daffodils? Turns out, a meaning for daffodils was unrequited love.

And wasn’t that fitting?

He was marking the days. Appreciating each day he still got to wake up, not having been smothered in his sleep. In all honesty, though?

He’d rather be killed in his sleep than choked to death at a coffee shop table.

He was also trying to appreciate his time with Hajime. He knew he would never have that sort of relationship with him, not now. So he tried to make the most of their friendship with him.

It was nice, for a while.

But all good things come to an end, as they say.

He was coughing up flowers multiple times a day, now. He’d noted to himself that when he saw blood, his time was almost up.

Terrifying, right?

It really was.

He’d just come home from a walk. He’d started going on them a while ago, when he’d just got it. He hoped the fresh air would do him some sort of good.

It’s funny, really. A while ago, Nagito wouldn’t have cared if he was killed. We practically would have welcomed it.

But now? Now he’d met someone. And because he’d met someone, he was dying. Because he’d met someone, he didn’t want to die.

But it’s not like he got a say in the matter, did he?

His lungs were being overgrown by weeds that call themselves flowers. Horrid things that were worming their way up his throat every. Single. Day.

And eventually, blood would come with them.

So here he was, sitting down after his walk. He sat down at his desk, his throat wheezing as he did. It had been three weeks and four days, and each day suffocated him just that bit more. And right now, he was dizzy. Probably from the lack of oxygen.

Right on cue, his next coughing fit started. It lasted as long as all the others, felt like all the others… but afterwards, it didn’t look like all the others.

He opened his eyes to see what he’d been dreading. A horrible stain of blood splattered across his desk, almost looking pink in the lamp light. He saw two daffodils laying in the midst. Some would call this poetic.

What would Nagito call it?

A death sentence.

He could barely breathe. The flowers crushed his lungs as he scrambled to get his phone out.

Logically, he should call an ambulance. Emergency services, anything that would help.

However, Nagito wasn’t thinking logically.

And that’s not what he did.

He looked over at the old cup, tapping in the number scribbled on it.

He’d never see that handwriting again.

He’d never see him again.

His hands shook as he pressed dial, holding it up to his ear. He also pulled up his paper on his laptop, scanning over it.

Now he knew what he was going to add.

“Hello?”

“Ah, h-hello, Hajime! S-so sorry to bother you th-this late.”

“Mm, no problem. Something up?”

“N-no, nothing at all..!” He scrolled to the bottom of the document, typing quickly. “I just wanted to ch-chat, is all… you g-got a minute?”

“Ahh, sorry Ko. I’m with Chiaki right now. Mind if I call you back tomorrow?”

“…sure. That’s no problem, Hajime. Hajime Hinata…”

“Huh? Ko, you ok?”

He saved the document, plugging in the laptop to charge shakily. He wanted to say his usual; Yep, I’m fine! No need to worry yourself, Hajime. See you tomorrow, hm?

That’s what he would’ve said had his throat not closed up.

Instead, he fought for his breath. He fought a battle that he’d inevitably lose. Hands shaking, chest wheezing, he spoke into the phone.

One last time.

“H-Hajime…”

“Yeah Ko?”

“I-I think I’m dying.”

He dropped his phone to the table, his head following suit not long after. In his last moments of consciousness, he heard Hajime yelling through the phone.

“What?! Nagito, did you say you’re dying?!”

“Nagito, answer me!”

“Nagito Komaede, talk to me!”

“C'mon, c'mon! Answer already!”

“I- Chiaki, call emergency services to this address. I’m sending help, Nagito. Just… just hang in there, please.”

A pool of blood drying on the table.

A final call ended.

A bleach white head of hair stained.

A final message on his computer.

In conclusion, the hanahaki disease is a very terrifying prospect, and now that I have experienced its effects first hand, I can confirm.

The hanahaki is deadly. I, Nagito Komaeda, have been killed at its hands.

March 11th.

They just didn’t get there quick enough.

Emergency services got there moments after Hajime did, who had sprinted up the stairs to where Nagito once resided.

He was shocked to find the scene in front of him.

He ran over to Nagito, trying to shake him awake. But no amount of shaking could uproot the flowers that had torn them apart.

He was brought off to a hospital, but he was already dead when they arrived. It didn’t take long to put together what had happened, despite nobody quite believing it. With the document Nagito had left, the blood and flowers and the tangle in his lungs, it was determined he most definitely had the disease, and just managed to keep it a secret.

Hajime.

He just couldn’t believe it.

Nagito was just… gone.

That phone call was the last time he’d ever hear the poor man’s voice. See him smile or laugh, despite how unnerving it could be at times.

All of that… gone.

Just because he loved someone.

Nagito had never talked about having a crush on anyone. But only people with unrequited feelings got the disease, right?

So whoever he liked just didn’t like him back.

And there was just the smallest, miniscule part of Hajime that had a feeling he knew who it was.

He prayed to whatever gods were up there that he was wrong.

Years later, Hajime still can’t look at daffodils.

For all they mean respect, chivalry… rebirth, eternal life, new beginnings, all of which Komaeda didn’t receive…

They also meant unrequited love. The cruel mistress that took his life.

He used to like Spring. Now he can’t stand it. That’s when daffodils bloom.

That’s when Nagito died.

He still lays awake some nights, thinking about the man he used to know. What would have happened had they not met? Had Hajime never taken that job, would Nagito still be alive?

A question that would never be answered.

He quit his job right after, not wanting to be reminded of the man. Despite that, he wouldn’t let him be forgotten.

So now, all he could do was heal. Mourn him, and heal.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever like daffodils again. After all, they’re the flowers that tore them apart.

-End-

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

They Don’t Know You Like I Do

This is a reupload, a throwback. It was originally written in 2019 and posted on my old account calumh-excess. I hope you guys enjoy.

In the same universe as We’re Outsiders.

Sandra should be out of his league. But with a good heart and an open mind, she gives Ashton a shot. That’s all he needs.

Greaser!AU.

Enjoy my masterlist.

Support me on Ko-Fi

No one has my permission to repost this fic, including translations. All rights reserved. Copyright © be-ready-when-i-say-go. 

_________________________

When there’s a knock at the door, Ashton’s a little confused. Though, knocks are more frequent now if he has to be honest. He racks his brain for who could possibly be at the door. It’s not Luke. He had to run some errands for his parents. It’s not Calum. He’s at work; left early this morning. Calum did agree to be at the race. And unless Calum forgot his keys, Ashton is sure that Calum wouldn’t be showing back to the house. 

So Ashton finishes zipping up the boot and walks to the door. Cookie stands on the other side, grinning. Her siblings attached to her hips. He grins at the sight. It’s very common on Saturday mornings for her to show up at his doorstep, whether Calum is home or not. More often not, since Saturdays seem to have picked up at the shop and Cookie seems to be able to sneak away before the morning rush. “Know your boy toy’s not here right?”

She rolls her eyes, extending out the glass dish. “I know. I did talk to him last night.”

Ashton takes the dish; it’s heavier than he anticipated. It smells good though. He won’t lie. The deep inhale almost makes his stomach growl and his mouth salivate. “Thanks.”  They don’t need to be taken care of, but it’s nice. She always brings enough for not just Ashton and Calum, but also Luke and Michael. “One of these days I’m gonna get that recipe.”

“Oh, hot stuff, we’d have to be married for that,” she teases laughing. 

“You say that like I won’t snatch you up from Calum.”

His only acknowledgement to the tease is a smile. “Got one more in the car. Can they sit inside for a second? If you’re not busy.”

“Yeah, they can sit inside for a minute.”

Teresa, Cookie’s sister, taps Ashton on the leg on the way in. A game they seem to always play where he attempts to dodge it, but never seems to skirt out of the way fast enough. Ashton buckles a little at the motion, careful of the food he’s still holding, and drags himself to the kitchen table. “I oughta report this!”

Her brother, Curtis, settles onto the couch. He’s always been quiet. But he smiles at the exchange and settles into the cushions. Ashton leaves the dish out. He’s glad Cookie came by. He wanted to ask her for a favor and had planned to stop by her place or the diner before heading out for the race. 

The door creaks open again and Cookie walks in, heading straight for the kitchen. She doesn’t linger long on the fact that there aren’t many groceries left. She just slips the glass dishes in and prays that they can get back on track soon. 

“You know,” Cookie starts watching her sister and brother pick up the deck of cards at the dinning room table and Ashton stand in front of her. “I could get you in at the diner. My folks ain’t that bad.”

Ashton shakes his head. He knew long ago when he lost his job that Cookie could help him out. Somehow it felt wrong, felt like he would’ve been intruding. Besides, he wouldn’t be down for long. “I appreciate it. But I don’t wanna put your folks in a tighter spot. If I start working there and someone hits the roof, y’all take the hit. Not me.”

“World won’t be so black and white one day.”

“Sometimes I think I could be doing more. More than just surviving and more than just hoping for you.”

“If you got marching boots, I know how to get you in.”

It’s only a nod. They are silent, even as cards shuffle in the background. But Ashton knows, by way of the stirring in his chest, that he’s going to be asking about that march.

“Well, I ain’t mean to take up too much time,” Cookie starts, seeing the current round is coming to an end. 

“Wait before you go, can I ask you a favor?” It’s not exactly the smartest thing in the world he’s done for cash, agreeing to a race.. Though he’s smart and never gets tied up for people that race for pinks. “I need some help.”

Cookie leans back into the fridge, the white Keds on her feet matching the tile as she crosses her ankles. “Help how?”

Ashton knew he shouldn’t have promised Sandra that Cookie would’ve been there without actually asking Cookie. However, by the time Ashton managed to get home, Calum had already gone to bed and Ashton for sure was not about to call up to her house at that time of night. He was just trying to get Sandra to see that he was just a guy, not the label that people had put on him. 

“I have a race.”

Cookie nods. “If you telling me Teresa actually hit you that hard that you can’t drive no more, I oughta sign that girl up for boxing or something,” she teases. 

Ashton has to laugh with a shake of his head. “God almighty, no.”

“What’s about this race and needing help?”

“I need you to tag along. I told this girl they were cool and I just need you around so she doesn’t flip.”

It’s a heavy sigh that expels from her lungs and Ashton all but slides to his knees as he grabs onto her hands. “Please, Cookie? Please?”

“These ain’t no family affair. I’ve got my brother and sister. It’s technically illegal.” While Cookie didn’t hold too fast to the rules that governed them, she was not about to act fast and loose in front of siblings. They have fast lips. 

“I’ve never seen a race,” Teressa cuts in. She’s dealing out half the deck between her and Curtis.

“See!” Ashton says, lips rolling over as he pouts. “C’mon. Just the one solid. Please.”

“And there’s a reason you haven’t,” Cookie replies. If she gets in trouble on her lonesome is fine. Her parents will flip, they’ll give her a lot of noise. However, that was her fault. If she gets into trouble with her sister and brother around that’s a whole new can of worms. One she’d rather avoid. There’s so much pleading on Ashton’s face though. And of course it had to be a girl too. Races aren’t scary, but they can get nasty.“You ain’t racing for pinks are you? Hate to leave you stranded.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m in no position to race for pinks.”

The house is in decent condition, but he’s between jobs and needs to find a new source of cash fast. His cars the only thing he’s got going for him. He was let off from his previous gig because the owner was worried about his rep. Not that Ashton wasn’t hard working and diligent at whatever he put his hands on. He busted his ass at work. The owner was looking at a ‘bigger picture.’ It’s bullshit if Ashton is asked. He didn’t throw a fit in front of the owner. He thought about it. He wanted to, but he didn’t want to ruin his chances. He quietly took the week’s pay and left the office. He’s got good word from this boss to another place. Ashton’s worried that his reputation is going to precede him all his life though.

Ashton finally continues, “Please, I need your help. I need the bread and she’s--she’s different, Cookie. She’s giving me a shot.” He’s totally smitten, but he wouldn’t completely admit that. Sandra didn’t exactly grow up on this side of town. None of the guys can help him out. Cookie’s his only shot.

It’s one of her few days where she doesn’t have to be on shift during the morning. She had really just wanted to hit the store to see if the hair grease she needed has been restocked and she wanted to just not think about anything until work. 

“Look,” she points over to Teresa and Curtis, “y’all gotta keep tight ships on those lips.”

“Thank you!” Ashton shouts and her siblings chorus. 

“And you,” she starts, finger singling him out.  “I beat feet after it’s done.” Cookie agrees. “But if there’s any heat, I am not hanging around.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Ashton gushes, wrapping her up in a quick hug. “And I totally understand about the cops. I’d literally do whatever to shake your trail. You know that.”

“I know.I know. You surely know how to put a girl in a pickle.”

“It’s a specialty,” Ashton returns. His grin wide. 

The kids continue their game of War before Cookie’s pulling out of the driveway first and waiting for Ashton to lead the way. Admittedly, Ashton didn’t tell Cookie that Sandra was a Soc, a Prep. But maybe she had figured it out by the way he talked about her inexperience with races. Most people would probably laugh at the fact he’s into a Soc. And he knows Cookie would never judge him, but sometimes even he felt a little shame in it. But Sandra is a saint and Ashton is in need of a blessing. 

His logic isn’t flawed, but it is a little wishful. If he wins the race, Ashton can show Sandra his world’s not all that bad, it’s not all dangerous. It has it’s danger for sure. But if he could just get her to see the good, then maybe he had proven that the labels were unjust. And it’s twisted thinking he knows. Sandra already seems him as a good person, she already sees something in him. But it’s the outside world. It was always going to be the outside world it seemed that would be in the way. It reminds of how he was with Cookie and god, it makes him feel like an asshole. He could be the first person to admit that. He would be the first to admit that. 

When they get the makeshift track, old back roads that lead to the deserted factory, Ashton spots the boys. They rush up from the dirt sides. Calum checked the car before he left this morning. But that was then and now it needs another glance, checking for holes in tires or rocks in the tracks.  

Ashton finds her, Sandra, in her red dress with black polka dots. She waves, but doesn’t make a move closer from her car. She swore to Ashton she would find a way to the race. He insisted that they could meet somewhere, but when she looked down, biting the side of her lip, he knew not to push it. He walks over, cheeks lifting into a grin. 

“I feel so overdressed,” Sandra whispers, tucking more of her hair behind her ear.

“Nah, I dig it.” It’s who she is and Ashton can’t stop the thundering of his heart. 

“You sure this isn’t an issue? Like I thought pinks would be involved and everyone here looks,” she doesn’t finish the sentence. This isn’t her crowd. She knows it; Ashton knows it. Ashton’s sweet though. Always helps her grandmother with the bags to her car. He even referred them to a great car shop. One of his friends works there, always looks out for them and makes sure to work on their car exclusively. He’s for sure a fun time, always laughing at something, always making up a new gig when there’s only her in the store and the radio’s playing a good song. But this isn’t her crowd. She’s not sure how they’re going to accept her.

“Hey, my guys are cool. Stick with them and there will be no issue,” Ashton urges. 

Sandra goes to speak, but then she notices a girl with a fro walking up to her, lips painted red. It’s a bold choice, but she wears it well. Ashton’s thankful that Cookie’s approaching. “That’s Cookie. Calum’s girl. The guy that works on your grandmother’s car. I told you she’d be here.”

Sandra nods, a smile lifting her lips. It’s a little bit more comforting to have someone else on Ashton’s side, that’s not a Greaser as company. She thinks the whole Greaser versus Socs is ridiculous, but she’s not naive to think that the lines don’t exist for everyone else. “You Ashton’s girl?” Cookie asks, knowing the true answer. But it’ll make both of them turn red and Cookie can’t pass up on that opportunity.

“Oh, no,” she mumbles as both their cheeks turn beat red. There’s a blashful glance between both of them. Ashton’s hoping Cookie’s teasing isn’t too much but he does like the sound of her being his girl. He needs to win this race, make a good impression and keep Sandra around. That’s all he wants. 

“Alright, Ms. Red, you guys are just friendly. I get it. Mind if I borrow the pretty lady for a moment?” Cookie extenders her elbow, waiting for the gentle grip to move them out the way of the race.

The touch is light and they walk up to the side of the road. Cookie can feel the nerves off Ashton’s girl. She keeps looking over her shoulders. Like she’s afraid something is gonna jump out at her. “First race?” Cookie asks.

The girl nods, ends of her hair flying up in the wind. “Ms. Red? That’s a new one.”

“What’s ya name? Maybe you’d like that more.”

“Sandra. But I like Red better. You’re the one really wearing the devil’s paint better than I ever could.”

“Then Ms. Red it is. And nothin’ wrong with a little make up.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just--,”

“Don’t have a cow, sweetheart. Just kidding around.”

They reach Cookie’s car, her siblings eying the girl on her arm. They’re suspicious of every new person they meet. It took them ages to warm up to Luke, Ashton, and Michael. She can’t blame them. Every white person to cross their path has only ever spit on them. She’s praying that they don’t hold such skepticism in their heart all the time. “Teresa and Curtis, my sister and brother. Ms. Red.”

Both of them give curt nods. Cookie goes on to introduce the rest of the crew before hopping into the backseat of her car with her siblings, she sits on the edge of the door, feet planted on the seat. Curtis sits between her legs. Teresa right in front of him. “Take a front row seat,” she offers to Sandra waving to the passenger side seat. Calum leans up against her car, right behind Cookie and her siblings, his hands buried in his pocket of his work pants. The switchblade curled into his fingers.

Sandra doesn’t miss the tension. She looks up to Cookie, the fear flashing over her face. “They don’t bite. Well, for anklebiters, they don’t,” she assures.

“You’re going to regret that,” Teresa interject, lightly tapping her sisters ankle. “White people just never done us no good.”

Kids, they’ll always be honest. “Tes,” Cookie warns. The tension is still thick, but the engines roar and Sandra jolts at the sound. “Get in, Red unless you want dust on that pretty little dress.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, climbs into the car and then kneels on the seat to watch them. Another girl, from the opponent's side, stands in the middle of lanes, scarf in her hand. She holds it above her head. She holds it there for a moment. Ashton revs his engine, just get get under the guy’s skin.  “The car’s a lot louder,” Sandra comments. It’s to no one in particular. Curtis climbs to the passenger side of the back seat and stands, looking over the door.

“Ashton’s engine is souped up thanks to Calum,” he says as the rumble settles. “Nothing illegal. Just gives him more speed from the start and he can maintain it for the entire race.”

“Hey, look at my man paying attention,” Calum laughs, holding his palm straight up for Curtis to slap it. They go about their handshake, a series of slap, pumps, and snaps.  

Curtis looks up to Sandra. “We ain’t trying to be mean. We just...sissy, what’s the word? Scared, but like not scared scared.”

“Worried or maybe concerned,” comes from both his sisters.

“Concerned,” Curtis repeats to Sandra. She nods. It makes sense all things considered for them. They have to be cautious to some degree. It’s a matter of life or death. Cookie’s teasing and offering of her car makes Sandra’s less anxious though. She’s completely outside of her realm and needs an anchor. They’re nice. “Nice dress too,” he concludes. “Sissy has a skirt like it.”

Before she can express her gratitude, engines growl to life yet again and Sandra snaps her attention to the road. Ashton doesn’t press down hard on the gas; he, in fact, gives the initial lead away. He can come behind and cut to the inside on the turn. He’s not worried about a lead. He’s got a plan. He always has a plan.

Sandra grips at the door, heart thundering in her chest. “C’mon, Ash. Take him.” The words are falling from her lips before she’s even realized it. After the initial kick up of a dust cloud, she can make out Ashton sliding inside. The first turn comes up and he cuts to the inside. There’s a tap to his bumper, but he tries not to show it. Keeps a steady hand on the wheel to correct.

There’s cheering, but it’s hard to catch it over the rumble of the engines. Sandra can feel it bubbling in her chest as she wants to join in again. She wants to scream his name. She wants to let him know she’s rooting for him. As the second straight away comes up, Ashton falls back just a little. The noses of their cars keep trading places.

Her pulse quickens, veins pumping against her skin. But Ashton looks so calm as they round in for the second lap. “Leave him in the dust! Burn rubber!” Sandra screams. It feels good to let the primal shout leave her lips. Louder shouts from Cookie and Ashton’s group start to cut through the rumble. The entire side of the road is almost as big of a roar as the cars themselves.

Ashton slips in front and hauls ass, pressing harder onto the gas. It kicks up another sputter of dust. As the last straight away comes up, Ashton keeps the car going as fast as it can. He doesn’t even stop until he blows past the start line. “Yes!” Sandra cries, pumping her arms into the air. As the drivers meet, shaking hands and exchanging cash, she climbs out of car and rushes over to Ashton.

“That was incredible,” she gushes. Her heart is still racing. He notices the childlike awe lighting up her eyes.

“Aw, shucks. It won’t nothing,” he replies, cheeks warming as her compliment. That was admittedly a tame race. They can get uglier, there can be scraps. But it’s a relief it didn’t happen. He didn’t want to show her that. He’s careful to stand in front of some of the nicks on the car He knows they traded taps on the course.

“It was pretty amazing to me.” The rest of them walk over, to congratulate Ashton. Cookie, much to her word, leaves after giving her cheers. Calum follows directly behind her, wanting to make sure she gets home safe.

“We ought to celebrate!” Sandra grins, brushing her hands over Ashton’s. She notes the rings adorning his fingers and plays at the pinky ring. “My treat! I’ve got a little of an allowance. What do you say?”

Ashton, flustered at the feel of her fingers over his, nods. “But I can cover myself.”

“Nonsense, you just won! No need to spend the earnings already.”

“I can’t.” He can pay his way through the world and he for sure doesn’t want to seem like he’s too willingly to take advantage of her niceness. 

“Ice it. You’re getting a treat! And don’t think you can run off either,” she warns, walking back to her car. 

Holding up his hands, Ashton knows he’s a goner. Hook, line, and sinker, there’s nothing he can do to save himself. The smile rests on Ashton’s face makes his whole body warm. “I’m listening. No runnin’ from me, ma’am.”

The rest of his guys cheer on his victory but soon it’s wrapped up and he climbs into his car, preparing to follow behind Sandra. Down the streets, Ashton realizes that he’s going further north. The anxiety starts to hammer at his chest and his fingers tremble. God, he doesn’t need trouble. Not right now, not after such a great victory.

Staring up at the sign of the parlour, Ashton’s takes a moment to exhale. He can’t afford trouble. He won’t get into trouble. He won’t. He’s going to just go inside, get a quick treat and then go on about his day. He parks right next to her, climbing out of the car. Eyes are already burning holes into his skin. He tries to swallow that bit of panic that his chest.

The leather jacket feels less like an accessory anymore. It’s armor. He wears it so they know. So they don’t start shit. He wears it so when his shoulders fall, the bulk keeps them wide. Even if he’s not looking for a fight, it looks like he’s ready to scrap.

“What’s your poison?” she jokes as they walk in together. “Stud like you maybe it’s chocolate.”

Ashton laughs softly, shaking his head a little. “I’m actually pretty square. Vanilla’s my vice.”

“Mr. Big and Bad goes for vanilla.”

“He does. Can’t tell anyone though.”

“Secret’s safe with me,” she winks, walking up to the counter to order the shake and even a slice of something for him as well. It’s as she leans against the cool material that she notices the distinct sneer on one of the waitress’ face. It dawns on her. She’s brought him to her side of town. But they don’t know him like she does. So she juts out her chin, reaching into the pocket of her dress. She plays at the bills and finally they girl walks down.

Sandra doesn’t let her open her mouth. “Vanilla milkshake, two straws. Slice of chocolate cake if there’s any left.”

“Anything else?”

A shake of the head no and she turns around to see Ashton, smiling up at her. He digs into his pocket and finds some change before walking over to the jukebox. He looks through the selection. He could be a sap. But right now he feels like making a little scene. He slips in the coin and presses for “The Twist”. Ashton snaps his fingers to beat, looking over his shoulder to her. She leans against the counter, laughing, hair flying in the ponytail.

Ashton starts tapping his foot, shuffling closer to her. People, he’s learned, are always staring at him. He’s gonna give them a reason to stare now. Sandra is beside herself, watching him singing along, while twisting himself side to side. The only thing that matters is her smile, her laugh. Ashton likes being a bit of a goof. He likes to have fun. He knows his life has never been easy, but there’s no reason not to smile. He makes it a goal to make someone smile each day. They deserve, everyone deserves a bit of kindness in the world. He thinks himself to be lucky to give that to anyone. Sandra admires that in him. This drive to give everyone a little piece of happiness.

When Ashton slides his way up to her, holding out his head, she doesn’t hesitate to give into his antics.  They dance in the middle of parlour. She holds onto hands, bending her knees. It’s easy to twist her torso side to side. She’s never been able to do this before. To just let herself go. It’s normally so much emphasis on being a lady, being prim and proper. She’s never really ascribed to you, in a way that she wholeheartedly believed. But she was well aware of the society she was in, the role she was told she had to play.

But she didn’t have to play games with Ashton. She didn’t have to pretend. If she wanted to swear, which she never did anyhow, she knew she could. If she wanted to let her hair down, she could. If she wanted to sit unladylike, she could. She was not restricted with him. And that freedom, the vulnerability, made her fall even more in love with him. God, was she in love with him?

“Uh, you want this shake or not?” the girl behind the counter shouts. “Been waiting for forever over here.”

Sandra walks over, sliding the cash across the counter. “Sorry. Just havin’ some fun.” Another set of hands slide in around her and grab the glass and the plate. She immediately notes the slender fingers, the rings.

“Just a little dancin’ sweetheart. No need to get heated,” he says before going back to their table. He notes one shake and the two straws. “Bold, are we?” he teases, handing one to her.

“What can I say? I’m livin’ on the wild side.”

Ashton brings a piece of the cake to his lips while speaking. “Yeah, so wild your hair’s still up.”

It’s not a challenge, just a tease. But Sandra brings a hand to her hair, untwist the elastic around her hair. Her hair falls down over her shoulders as she shakes it loose. “Anything else to say, Stud?”

No, he’s got nothing else to say.  That’s the thing about her, behind her button nose and blue eyes are a curiosity, a yearning to live life the way she wants to, not the way she’s been told to live it.

Outside at their respective cars, Sandra slips her hair tie from her wrist. The bow sells it, makes his heart warm more than he’s willing to admit as she slides it onto Ashton’s wrist. “Something to remember me by,” she grins softly.

“I’m always thinkin’ about you. So it’s not hard.”

“Smooth talking there.”

Ashton brings his fingers to her cheek before tucking just a little bit of her hair behind her ears. “When can I see you again?” Tomorrow’s her grandmothers doctor’s appointment. She starts her new job the day after. He’ll be okay even if it’s just for a quick moment to enjoy her company.

“I’ll ya a ring, okay?”

He nods, “Okay.”

_______________________________________________

He knows Sandra’s grandmother’s car when it pulls into the gas station. He managed to snag this gig at the gas station. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. He doesn’t quite want to go into the factory just yet. He knows it’ll make him the most money, but he’s gonna clean up his act before doing that. She smiles at him, as he closes in on her hair. She’s still has her driving gloves on. “What can I do for ya, Ma’am?” Ashton teases, opening the gas cover.

“Fill her up.”

“How was work?” She’s a secretary at the firm in town. Not a lot, nothing to write home about but it helps out. Every cent does now for her and her grandmother. Her grandmother’s not sickly. Just getting up in age, requires a lot more attention.

“Long, just glad it’s over.” There’s a moment of silence. “Grandma wants to meet you,” Sandra says. Her voice is soft.

Ashton’s been dreading this. Her grandmother isn’t fond of people like him. Though she smiled in his face when he carried her bags, Sandra tells him that always sneered at home. Always said boys like him were no good. “Thought she hated me.”

“She likes you. Likes the man that makes me smile. But she doesn’t like how she’s never met you, according to her.”

“But once she finds out it’s me, she’s gonna blow her top.”

“No, she’s not. She won’t. I promise.” He finds that hard to believe. He wants to believe her. She seems so earnest. But Ashton knows that older people are set in their ways. He finishes filling her tank, taking the change from her fingers. “Hey, hey,” she urges, gripping his chin. “She’s gonna love you. Because you’re incredible and she just hasn’t seen that. All she’s seen is the leather jacket, the hair. She’s only heart stories. But she’s never sat down with the real you.”

“Most people don’t need to sit down with the real me to judge me.”

“She’s gonna love you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can.” It hurts to see him pull his chin from her grasps. It’s not hard, not a jerk, just a soft turn to his head until her fingers fall from around his skin.

“How?”

“Because she don’t know you like I do. She’s gonna love you because I love you.”

His heart beats against his ribs. They’ve been seeing each other, including tucked into dark corners, for only a few months. But to say that she loves him, that’s a whole new thing. “You love me?” The question exhales from his lungs so softly she barely catches it.

With a nod, she grins. “Yeah, yeah I think I do. I know it’s only a few months, but call me young and dumb--,”

Ashton interrupts her with a kiss. “No, be young. Be dumb. We only get this shot once.” The words press against his lips. He should take his own advice. “I love you.”

Lip tucked between her teeth, she looks to the ground before glancing back into his hazel eyes. “So, my house. Saturday. 6:30?”

“Your house. Saturday. 6:30.”

________________

When Ashton stares up at the door, he swears for a hot second he might vomit. He tries to keep it down. These are his good penny loafers. He’d hate to ruin them. But there is just something in his gut that tells him that this dinner is a bad idea. It takes him another minutes to finally lift his hand to knock. There’s a moment before the door cracks open and Sandra is standing there, in a powder pink sleeveless dress, hair pulled back from her face.

“Oh is that him, dear?” Her grandmother calls, the voice far away.

It takes everything in Ashton to step through the threshold. When she finally rounds the corner, her smile falters. There it is. There’s the passing look of judgement clouding her face. “Hi, ma’am. How are you?” He asks, extending his hand.

She doesn’t reach for it. “Good, thank you.” Her gaze lands on Sandra. “Sandy, can I speak with you? In private?”

The two woman walk down the hallway and Ashton stands, right near the door. He could bolt. He could leave it behind. But he stands there, knowing the hushed whispers being exchanged are about him, are about her and him together. The voices get a little louder. He caught “not good” amongst the hurried murmurs. He knows he shouldn’t interject. It’s not his place. He steps through the living room. They’re huddled together.

“Ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude,” he starts. “But I care deeply about your granddaughter. I know the reputation that I have. And I earned it. I won’t lie.”

“You say that like I should give you a shot,” her grandmother snips.

He shrugs. “I’d like one. I’m not the type to make excuses for myself.”

“I know about boys like you. You’re scared and you’re angry. And you take it out on anyone that looks at you the wrong way. You hang out with all those other boys too, all they do is drink and get into fights. Even the girls they associate with get into trouble too. You’re kind are no good.”

“Yeah, yeah maybe I am scared and maybe I am angry. Yeah, I’m a lowlife in your eyes. But I’m the lowlife that carried your groceries to your car for a year. And I’m the lowlife that that keeps the tank full even if Sandra can’t afford it at the time. I’m greasy and not the goody two shoes you’d want for her. Yeah I’ve been in my fair share of fights and yeah I’ve put some people in serious hurt. But I’m not so bad. I’ve been you, okay? I’ve been on the other side of this conversation where you’re so worried about what others are going to think. And all you can see is the trouble I’ve been in.”

He continues after wiping at his nose with the pad of his thumb. He’s riled up. He feels like an ass. Is this how Cookie felt? He can’t change that. He does right by her. He gets her now. “I know the bad I’ve done. But I know the good too. You think me heartless. I wish I was heartless. I wish I didn’t give a shit so much about so many things. Took a friend in because his parents abandoned him. I was barely scraping by for myself, but I took him in. He needed to finish school. I didn’t. I dropped out. Had to. But him, he’s smart. He deserved a second chance. And his girl, she’s brilliant. I mean, the mind on her- I wish she could go to college. But she can’t. Her heart’s too tied to her family. Oh, and she’s Black. So it’s not like anywhere is going to give her a second chance.

“And my friend, Mike, man’s a wizard at the guitar. I mean, that man is bad at the guitar. But he hates playing in front of a lot of people. He could’ve been gone. Luke, Luke’s got some pipes. But he won’t sing unless Michael plays and because Michael doesn’t play all that often, they’re both here. They got families they care deeply about. They got families that they gotta provide for. So you can think of us what you want. You can think us all bad. But you don’t know us. You think you know us. You only know what others have told you. I really don’t mean any disrespect, Ma’am. But I just want you to consider that. Consider people are more than what you know of them.”

He looks to Sandra, who’s wearing a smile on her face. This is the Ashton she knows. Not one to hold back his tongue, one to always fiercely protect the ones closest to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll be staying for dinner.”

She watches the way he pops the collar on his polka dotted button up. She’s know sure where he got it. But it makes her immensely happy to know that he matched a dress of hers. His shoes are silent over the hardwood floors. Sandra turns back to her grandmother. “You always taught me to be kind to everyone, to keep in mind everyone has their own story. But you couldn’t even take your own advice.”

“I was kind,” her grandmother retorts.

Sandra shakes her head. “You know what I mean.” She hoped her grandmother would change, she thought she could get the opinion to change. But maybe her grandmother would destined to always be stuck.

“You can’t keep seeing that boy. He’s no good.”

The words mean nothing to Sandra. Her grandmother relies on her. She’s not a child. Holding on finger up to her grandmother, she races outside, finally hearing the car engine roar to life. The evening has a slight chill but it doesn’t stop her from racing to the driver side door. Ashton rolls down the window. It took him forever to even gain the courage to turn over the key in the ignition. She’s probably come out to tell him this is it.

“You didn’t have to come out to tell me. I know,” Ashton says, staring straight ahead.

“If you thought I came out here to tell you it’s over, you’re wrong.” Her voice is soft. She reaches through the window, playing at the collar of his shirt.

“What?” He’s positive he didn’t hear her right.

“She’s older. She doesn’t know you like I do.”

“But that’s your--,”

Sandra cuts him off. “I know who she is to me. But I’m an adult. I want to be with you. And she can’t stop me. Give me a minute, alright? We’ll go somewhere else.”

When her lips brush over his cheek, Ashton can only nod at her request. She walks back into the house. Her grandmother sits at the dining room table, hands clutching her cane. “You can’t keep seeing him. I forbid it.”

“Grandma, I love you. But since you refuse to sit down and have a conversation with him, I don’t think your advice is the most well informed. Now,” she starts fixing her grandmother a plate. “You’re gonna eat. I’ll be back to clean the dishes. But you just relax.”

“Where are you going? Not out with that boy, I know.”

“His name is Ashton. As I’ve told you before plenty of times.” The plates makes a soft thud on the placemat. “Eat. I’ll be back.” She puts the rest of the food up. Her grandmother watches, shouting at her that he’s no good. But no one’s perfect. And she if wanted perfection, she’d never find it. Maybe that was part of her grandmother’s problem. She craved perfection so bad, craved to fit in, to not shake the table that she never saw how unstable the table was in the first place.

“Enjoy your dinner!” Sandra shouts, throwing a sweater over her shoulders and grabbing her keys. Ashton is still waitin in the car. She climbs into the car. “Let’s drive,” she giggles.

“I got a destination in mind. Bit of a tradition. Hope it’s not too square.”

“You? A square? Never.” The drive isn’t very long. The skating rink comes into view and Ashton spies Calum’s bike still around. They still have a little bit of time. They have to go to the rink on the West side. Too many people stared at them, a group of white boys hanging around and friends with folks like Cookie and Calum. And it’s not to say they didn’t get looks on this side either. It’s not to say that Cookie’s unfortunately gotten into with a few of her own, but it’s generally safer. 

“When we’re not supposedly running a muck of the town, we’re skating,” Ashton says.

“How’d you know I was a great skater?”

“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice.” She’s mentioned it more than that actually. But it’s not like Ashton’s keeping count. It’s not like he goes home and gushes to Calum probably too much about Sandra.

The pair walk inside and grab some skates. It takes a moment of wondering before they spy the rest of Ashton’s friends. Cookie spots them first, smiling. “What happened to the red, Ms. Red?”

“Let him borrow it for the day,” Sandra returns, rushing over to help take the pitcher from her hands. The table cheers, noticing the pair.

“Thought you had a fancy dinner?” Michael questions as they settle and tie up their skates. Ashton shakes his head. Michael catches on to the sour expression. That topic is canned without hesitation. They all knew about Ash’s concerns. They’re not really shocked, if they’re honest, that things went sour. It sucks nonetheless. They had hoped for Ashton Sandra’s grandmother wouldn’t be such an issue. 

Ashton gets to his feet first and takes her hand. They step out onto the floor and she glides off. Ashton’s not a terrible skater, but he’s not the best either. She turns around and sees him pushing off hard. “Alright there, tough guy?”

He laughs. “Keep yappin’ that’s fine!”

As they come around a second time, the song shuffles. Everyone recognizes the start to Put Your Head on My Shoulder. People start pairing off. Ashton spies Calum and Cookie finally coming back out. Sandra slows into his side, fingers brushing over his. “You look as coordinated as a baby giraffe,” she teases.

“Keep talkin here, just keep on.” There’s a moment of quiet between them as the laughter dies down, gliding next to each other. A little slower than the rest of the crowd, but neither of them cares. “Sorry about being frosted back there. I just--people don’t understand. And sometimes they don’t want to. Which is frustrating.”

She nods. “I get that. I’m sorry she refuses to listen. I wish I could get through that thick skull sometimes. She means well, but sometimes she can do harm.”

Ashton stops along the wall, pulling her gently into him. “It happens. But you chose me. Over everything.”

She shrugs. “Easy choice, if I’m honest.” Ashton cups her face, fingers gently brushing over the soft skin. He’s lucky to have her. He’s lucky she chose him.

“Aren’t you worried?”

“I’ve got a lot of things to worry about. But not you.” Ashton leans in, just a smidge, lips capturing hers for a brief moment. His breath leaves him. He’s sure time is either paused or sped up but he doesn’t care. There are some wolf whistles that pass by. And both of them know it’s his friends. Sandra buries her face into Ashton’s shoulder, the heat flooding her cheeks.

“You guys are assholes,” Ashton laughs, watching Luke, Michael, and Calum pass by. The song fades out. Something more upbeat turns over the speakers. He coaxes her out from his shoulder. “Don’t mind them.”

“I mean, kind of hard not too.”

“But you got me, baby. You got me.”

Her eyes twinkle and she cups his cheek before kissing him. She does have him. That’s a comforting thought, one that makes her feel safe. As their lips part, Sandra exhales a bit breathy. “C’mon now before your knees knock and you fall.”

“You got jokes now,” Ashton hollers after her figure, skating away. “Now you got jokes. I see how it is.”

The evening is filled with too many orders of cheese fries to be healthy, too many refills for Cokes. They sing along to the speakers and Sandra laughs, hooking her arm through Ashton’s. “You didn’t tell me you could sing.”

His smile is bashful, face turning red. “You ain’t ask before.”

“The four of you ought to start a band or something,” she concludes. She’s heard the stories of Michael’s historic guitar playing. Stayed over at night, once, to listen to the four of them act a fool, singing until the wee hours of the morning. 

“Good luck with that,” Cookie interjects. “All of ‘em hardheaded. Mine especially.”

“But you love it anyway, doll,” Calum returns, kissing her temple. 

The group decides as the twilight is swallowed up by night to turn in. Outside, they split off in various directions towards their cars. “Make sure you get your red back,” Cookie hollers, trailing behind Calum. “You look betta in it anyways!”

The group howls at the comment. “Nah, baby, it’s a team effort.”

In a flash, Cookie runs up, laughing, leaving Calum to wait at the bike. “I know that’s right. Good seeing you again,” she adds on sincerely. “I mean it, too.” Since the race, Sandra’s tried to talk to Cookie more, tried to ease the tension that inevitably may not disappear completely. But they can try. “Mrs and Mr. Red,” she laughs with a wink. 

“See how she put Mrs, first,” Sandra grins. 

Ashton nods. “Yes, yes, I most definitely did.”

Ashton pulls into her driveway, staring back at the same doors that shut him out. It’s okay. That door need not ope, he concludes. Sandra stretches across to give him one last kiss. It deepens when Ashton takes hold of her face. It’s not a kiss that conveys the passion that’s brewing in the both of them. It’s not a kiss that’s light and airy. It’s a kiss that spells how desperate they are for the other to know, deep down, this is real.

As they part, Ashton pulls off one of the main rings he wears and plucks the necklace off from around her neck. Threading the chunky gold metal onto the dainty chain, he rehooks the necklace around her neck. Sandra drops her hair around her shoulders to take a look at it sitting over the powder pink to her dress. “Something to remember me by,” he explains, from his wrist, she can see the hair tie still. How did she miss that?

“I could never forget.” 

She climbs out of the car and he watches to make sure she gets inside. As the door closes behind her, she grins to herself. Making choices is scary. She knows her grandmother will not be quiet about her stance. But this is the first choice that was solely hers to make. And she’s proud of it.

[star-spangled-eyes]

Winner Take All: Part 7: The Keys

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Senior Year of College for Drake, Leo, Bragnae and Madeleine in the United States  

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC / Leo Reese x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sex

Series Description: Bragnae Bennett sought adventure when she first went off to college. Now, navigating through her senior year, she finds herself befriending two gorgeous guys, Drake Walker and Leo Reese, who engage in a seemingly innocent bet with her during a game of pool that leads to a surprising threesome.

Their intimate evening prompts deeper feelings than they all expected to arise, and Bragnae is suddenly swept up in both of their charms, unique to each man himself. Through the pressures of college, work and maintaining a social life, which man will prevail and win Bragnae's heart?

Master List

A/N:  This chapter flowed out of me! It needed to be told. I hope you enjoy this.

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language

Word Count for this chapter: 3691

Setting for this chapter: Drake leaves for the hockey camp, and Bragnae is faced with a persistent Leo.

Permatags: @burnsoslow​​​​ @cora-nova​​ @dcbbw​​​ @thorfosterlove​​​​ @emceesynonymroll​​​​ @edgiestwinter​​​​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​​ @msjr0119​​​​ @notoriouscs​​​​ @drakewalker04​​​​ @pedudley​​​​ @desiree-0816​ @choices-lurker​​ @kingliam2019​​ @loveellamae​​​ @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020​​ @indiana-jr​​ @moonlightgem7​​

Series Tags: @yukinagato2012​​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​​ @nomadics-stuff​​ @ravenpuff02​​ @texaskitten30​​ @themadhatter1029​​ @randomfandomteacher​ @queenjilian​ @princessleac1​ @seriouslybadchoices

Part 7: The Keys

“Do you have everything you need? Did you get all of your assignments from your professors?” Bragnae asked while Drake zipped up his big duffle bag. It was the night before he was supposed to leave for the hockey camp. She took the night off from work so they could spend time together after school before he had to leave the next day.

“Yep. I got it all,” he said, walking over to kiss her on the forehead. “Thanks for double checking.”

“Well, you don’t want to fall behind with school. You’re so close to graduating.” She looped her arms around his neck.

His hands were immediately drawn to her hips keeping her close. “I’ll be fine, Miss Goodie Two-Shoes.” Drake smirked as she rolled her eyes at him. Bending down, he captured her lips in a playful kiss.

Two weeks without being able to see Drake in person would be tough, especially in the beginning of their blossoming relationship. He was constantly on her mind, and they didn’t get much time to spend with each other over the past few days because of Bragnae’s work schedule. She was pleasantly surprised when Drake showed up at Mikey’s on Tuesday night with a friend. She liked the effort he put into seeing her even while she was working.

“I’m going to miss you.” Damn it. She didn’t want to say that, thinking it was too soon in the relationship to mention.

He brushed a wisp of hair out of her face. “I’ll miss you, too.” He smiled. “Believe me, I don’t want to leave you for two weeks. But I’ll call you tomorrow night when I get there, and we’ll find ways to talk while I’m gone.”

Bragnae rose up to kiss him again. “I can’t believe you’re making me go two weeks without these lips.”

“I’ll be back before you know it, kissing you all night long.” They melted into another deep kiss that heightened her senses. She knew he was giving her something to remember him by.

~

It was Wednesday, and Drake had already spent a few days away at the hockey camp. He called her like he promised, and they had a few good conversations that brought them closer. They weren’t just the superficial things any two people could discuss. Their talks would lead deeper and more meaningful with each one. It was nice to get to know him better, and perhaps having him out of her reach allowed them to do so. Being physically apart, they could focus on their personalities instead of getting distracted by how well they could kiss or touch one another.

Bragnae finished reading a text from Drake. He said he had finished one practice already, but now was in the gym working out with still another practice before the day was over. She sent him a cute, go-get-‘em type of reply, and plopped her phone back into her purse. In between classes, she had taken a seat on a concrete bench outside to eat a quick lunch and to enjoy the fresh air.

Looking at her watch, she decided it was time to head to her next class. She got up to take her trash to a garbage can nearby. When she turned to face it, she saw Leo standing there. Her feet halted her in place. He was looking at her with an almost pleading expression.

Bragnae didn’t have time for his games. Her class begun in twenty minutes, and plus, she didn’t want him to detect an ounce of hurt on her face. Seeing him last Sunday didn’t help the wound that still tore her apart. She had chosen to take a fun risk when she agreed to the threesome with him and Drake. That she could accept as a one-nighter with no attached feelings or expectations. But when he pursued her and said all those wonderful things… when he made her feel beautiful and cared about, she took that intimate moment to mean more. And it hurt her so much to realize he didn’t feel the same way about it.

Keeping her eyes on the trash can, she hurried her steps to look as if she was in a rush in hopes that he’d leave her alone.

“Hi, Bragnae.” His voice was soft and cautious.

“Hi,” she said dismissively, throwing her garbage away. Immediately following, she turned in the opposite direction, but then he spoke again.

“Can we talk?” He asked from behind her. She could hear his footsteps trying to keep up with hers.

“I’ve got to get to class.” She said firmly, keeping her head straight forward.

Leo must have taken bigger strides because he was suddenly in front of her causing her to stop walking. “I want to talk about what happened between us.”

Bragnae scoffed. “Oh, now you want to talk about it? Is it, perhaps, because you saw that I’m with Drake now? And that you lost the opportunity to be with me? Is that it?” Her eyes narrowed at him as she waited for his response.

He sighed, looking down at the ground briefly before returning his attention to her. “That’s not exactly the reason, but it has something to do with it.”

Her eyes scanned his face. He had the nerve to look sad – sad like a lost puppy. She wasn’t buying it. All of the hurt and anger inside her bubbled to the surface. Bragnae took a step closer to him. “I was wrong about you, Leo. You’re not the sexy bad boy I thought you were.” She paused, seeing a hint of hope in his eyes. “You’re just a bad guy. You had your chance to talk to me, and you blew it.”

His face falling was the last thing she saw before pivoting towards the direction of the building that housed her next class. Her body shook and her heart raced from the confrontation. She’d be lying if she told herself she wasn’t curious about what he had to say to her, but he had ample opportunities before now to do it. And that infuriated her. Was she just supposed to wait around for him to finally make a decision as to when he wanted to talk to her? She deserved better, and she had better now that she was with Drake.

Luckily, he hadn’t followed her, but he had done enough. Even with that short conversation, Leo had warped her mind for the rest of the day.

~

Later that evening, Bragnae was finishing up some homework when Drake called her. She remembered he had that extra practice, so she had texted him earlier to call her when he was free. She couldn’t wait to talk to him, plus she needed him to lift her spirits after seeing Leo.

“Hey, you,” she said gleefully as she answered the phone.

“Hey, Bennett. How’s it going?”

She exhaled a breath. “Just peachy.” Now definitely wasn’t the time to tell him about Leo. She didn’t want to have that conversation over the phone, and didn’t want to distract him while he was at his camp. “How was practice today?”

“Intense. Our coach is really pushing us hard to get ready for the season.” She could hear him sigh. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. Wish you were here right now.”

Almost a week since she’d last seen him, she really missed him. “I wish I was too.” An idea immediately dawned on her. “Hey, Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“I have Saturday off work. Maybe I could drive up to see you. You know, only if you wanted me to.” She hoped she wasn’t being too forward.

“Bragnae, I’d love it if you did.” She heard a rustling of papers on the other end. “I have practice sessions until three o’clock on Saturday, but then I’m free for the rest of the night. Want to meet me at the arena around that time?”

She smiled brightly. It felt wonderful to know he wasn’t opposed to the idea. A few of her past boyfriends would have taken her suggestion as moving too fast, but not Drake. She loved that. “Of course!”

“Awesome. I can’t fucking wait.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “You should take my truck instead of your car, though. I didn’t get a chance to look at it yet, and you’ll need something reliable to get here.”

Feeling a bit stunned by his offer, she took an extra moment to think about it. “That’s… a great idea. I hadn’t thought about my car not making it.” Thoughts raced in her mind. “Oh, how am I going to get your keys?”

“Easy,” he told her. “I’ll just ask Leo when he’ll be home, and he can give them to you sometime before you leave.”

Her eyes closed in disappointment. That meant she’d have to face him again, and she knew he’d try to talk with her. She wondered if this trip to see Drake was worth another confrontation with Leo. He had worked her up into a frazzled mess with the little she allowed him to say to her today. She could just imagine how she’d handle it again, which was to say poorly. Deciding Drake was, indeed, worth another round of being mentally fucked over, she agreed.

“Sounds good. I work tomorrow and Friday, but I could pick it up on Saturday around 10:00am if that works for him.” Bragnae gritted her teeth. This was yet another thing she’d have to rely on Leo for that could backfire on her, and she hated it.

“Alright. I’ll let you know what he says.”

~

With a new paper to work on and two shifts at Mikey’s, the rest of the week went by fast. It was Saturday morning, and she was freshly showered, and had a small bag of just-in-case items packed for the trip. Drake told her he was rooming with a fellow hockey player at their hotel, so she couldn’t stay with him overnight – and that was fine by her. Staying the night could have led to them having sex, and she still felt they should wait – at least until he came back home where they could take their time and make it special.

Bragnae was both looking forward to and dreading this day. When her brain ran down the list of her to-do tasks before she had to leave, nervous butterflies would flutter in her stomach. In order to get to Drake, she’d have to go through Leo first. She didn’t sleep soundly last night because of the thought of having to see him again.

She had arranged an Uber to pick her up and take her to Drake and Leo’s apartment. With a purse and small tote bag in tow, she climbed in and was chauffeured to her destination.

Taking a few deep breaths, Bragnae walked up to their apartment and knocked three times. As she waited, her hands fidgeted with the handle of her tote bag. Soon, she heard the locks being turned, and straightened her posture to prepare herself to see him.

Leo opened the door, flashing a bright smile at her forgetting himself. Her stony expression must have reminded him she wasn’t equally happy to see him. “Hi, Bragnae. Come on in.”

Her leg twitched in the forward motion, but her brain took over before it could act. “Actually, I’m just here for Drake’s keys. I can wait here.”

“I know. It will only take a second. Just come in.” His insistence was casual. It wasn’t the pleading tone he had earlier in the week when they were at school.

Against her better judgment, she sighed before walking into the apartment. He shut the door behind her, and then disappeared into Drake’s room. Her grip on the bag’s handle grew tighter while her body became tense as well. He was gone just long enough for her to regret her decision to be there.

“Here they are,” he said walking towards her at a deliberately slower pace.

“Thank you,” she said reaching out for them, only to be surprised when he pulled them back with hesitation. “Leo, what are you doing? May I have the keys, please?”

He looked at her trying to decide something before he slipped the keys in the front pocket of his jeans. She sighed again, shaking her head as her eyes shifted away from him. “Bragnae, I really need to talk to you.”

“I knew you were going to do this.” She turned to him again. Her tone was full of disappointment and frustration, but it did lack the anger that fueled her words during their first confrontation. “Please, just give me the keys. I have somewhere to be.”

He took a step closer to her. “Come on. You’ve got a few minutes to spare, don’t you? Just hear me out, and then I’ll give you the keys.”

It irked her to have to admit that she did have spare time. Drake was only two hours away, but she wanted to give herself extra time to fill the truck up with gas, if needed, and take her time finding the arena he practiced in since she’d never been there before. Her damned curiosity piqued again, and she felt herself warming up to the idea of hearing what he wanted to tell her.

“Okay, fine.”

“Can we take a seat in the living room?” He held out a hand for her to join him, but she just brushed past him instead. She dropped her bags by the side of the couch and sat down. He followed a few seconds later.

Not wanting to waste any more time there, or worse, letting him dredge up her feelings for him, exposing all of her weaknesses, she decided to speak first. “So, enlighten me, Leo.” She turned to him coldly. “Tell me your version of what happened between us. Because from where I’m sitting, I can already tell you it’s a completely different story.”

Leo adjusted on the cushion to face her more. He inhaled a deep breath before he spoke. “I know what I did to you was wrong. It felt wrong… and I didn’t mean to hurt you that way.”

She glared at him. “How could you say you didn’t mean to hurt me when you knew it was wrong to just ditch me after we had sex? I mean, for God’s sake, it was like a freaking switch had been turned off inside you.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but took another moment to think of a response. “Bragnae, I want to explain this to you, but I need you to hear me out. I’m going to sound like a real asshole, but I just need the chance to say it without you dissecting everything in between.”

She narrowed her eyes, but sat back against the arm of the sofa. He wasn’t really in the position to make demands of the conversation, but if she wanted to get this over with, she’d let him say his peace. She waved an impatient hand in front of her to get him to continue.

“Thank you.” He visibly relaxed. “The night we had at the club was unforgettable. I really enjoyed being with you.” He swallowed to give himself a moment. “Look, it’s no secret that I don’t really do relationships. I’ve conditioned myself to just… have a good time, and then move on. I can’t say that wasn’t my intention with you in the beginning, but then we became friends. We got to know each other. And that was different for me. I don’t have friends who are girls. Not like you.”

He looked to the sofa cushion for courage. “After the night of the bet, I thought I’d be satisfied that I was finally able to be with you. But I wasn’t. Even though Drake was there too, I felt something spark between us. And when I took you to the club, and we had sex,” he paused to reflect on the memory. “It shook me. That whole day was amazing with you. And then watching you fall apart in my arms, I felt drawn to you. Like I wanted to keep seeing you day after day, making you come, making you smile. I… wanted more than just that night. And it scared me.”

“Why would being with me be so bad? Why would it scare you?” Leo was revealing raw emotions with her for the first time. She had never seen him like that.

He exhaled another breath, cracking his knuckles as he prepared to speak. “When I was a senior in high school, I had been dating this one girl for about a year. We were very close, and I even told her that I loved her. We had talked about going to the same college, and being together forever. And then one day, she broke up with me. She told me she was going to a different college and thought it was best that we break it off, so we could start fresh somewhere else.”

Bragnae felt empathy towards him. Break ups were hard, especially when a lot of time and feelings were invested.

“That devastated me. It just made me feel like I meant nothing to her. All those talks, all of our plans. I had no idea what I did to make her change her mind, but she didn’t let me in on it. She broke up with me with ease. Not a single tear was shed. I didn’t even get a goodbye hug from her.” He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced as he seemingly fought back the rush of painful memories.

“So, I decided then that I wouldn’t allow myself to get hurt like that again. Before any girl could pull me into an emotional trap, I’d have my fun and then I’d leave her. It was the only way I knew how to protect myself. It took a good year and a lot of different women to help me get over my ex. I didn’t ever want to go through that pain again.”

She understood him better now. Not that she condoned his actions, but she understood.

“And the night at the club with you, right after I came harder than I’ve ever come before, I looked into your eyes and felt the same feelings I had for my ex before she ended things. Only this time, it was much more. I really like you, Bragnae, but having that familiar feeling creep back into my life made me want to run. If I allowed you to pull me in – even more than you’d already done – there was a chance I’d get hurt again. So, I shamefully pushed you away.”

Bragnae hated his ex for hurting him this way, but in the end it was Leo who could make the choice to move on from it instead of letting the past dictate his life.

“Leo, how many women are needed to get you to take a risk with your heart again? You are missing out on so much because you’re afraid of being hurt. If you would have just allowed yourself to feel what your heart was telling you that night at the club,” she paused, feeling emotion creep into her throat. “Things could have been very different.”

He moved closer to her on the sofa. “I know.” He picked up her hand, sandwiching it between his. “And when I saw you kissing Drake the other night, all I could think about was how mad I was at myself for missing the chance to be with you. I’ve thought of you every day since we were together. I can’t deny my feelings for you, Bragnae. Not when they’re this strong.”

His ocean blue eyes peered deep within her. They looked at each other in silence for another moment as he brought her hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was an idiot. You didn’t deserve that."

Her eyes glistened. “No, I didn’t,” she whispered.

Seeing the effect his words had on her, Leo slowly shifted towards her again. He extended a cautious arm so he could cup her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Bragnae.”

Her breath had quickened during his speech. She believed every word he said. There was nothing on his face that implied he was lying or making excuses. And she could feel their shared pain weighing heavily on her heart.

“What can I do to make this right for you?” The pleading look was back in his eyes.

“I really needed to hear this, Leo. It makes complete sense, and I’m sorry that you were hurt so deeply in the past.” She pulled her hand gently out of his grip. “I wish you would have told me about this that night at the club. I could have helped you through it. But you chose fear over your desire to be with me, and I am no one’s second choice.” She stood to gather her bags. As she blinked her eyes, rogue tears fell down her cheeks.

“Bragnae, please don’t go. Wait.” He grabbed for her arm, but she moved out of his grip.

“Thank you for finally telling me this, but I have to go. May I please have Drake’s keys?” She held her arm out with an open hand.

He sighed, fishing in his pocket for the keys. He pulled them out and dropped them into her hand. Leo quickly covered her hand with his, looking at her with a regretful and hurt expression.

Another moment went by before he released her. She gripped the keys, slung her purse and tote bag over her shoulder and turned to leave the apartment. Somehow, with the truth laid out before her, Bragnae still didn’t feel better. She thought knowing why he treated her so badly would make up for the pain she felt, but it didn’t. All of the ‘why’s’ she asked herself before now turned into the “what if’s”, and she had a two hour drive ahead of her to contemplate them all.

[writingkeepsmewhole]

The Mark Part 2 Dean

This is part 2 of The Mark the new fic I’m starting. This was meant to be posted yesterday but I was so busy I forgot it was Saturday haha Hope yall like it :)

This is from Dean’s POV Fic Summary: AU where everyone is born with half a mark on their body. The other half being on their mates body.

Dean Winchester x OC Amora Black

Warnings: Blood I think that’s it. Maybe a word ot two. 

Let me know if you want to be tagged.@fariesandwanderlust @all-will-be-well-love​

Part 1 

I sighed holding my sleeve up as Sam rewrapped my wound and started to bleed again.

“You're worried about Her aren't you?” He says worry in his eyes like always.

“Yeah well something reopened this and it wasn’t me.” I say looking down at the inch long cut on my shoulder. 

“Dean you know it’s not your fault.” 

“No it’s not but I don’t like her having to bear my scars. My mistakes should be my own no one else's.” I say pulling away from him and standing up.

“Dean-.”

“No don’t start with the'' you know why crap. Yeah I do, Adam wanted a companion so bad God gave him Eve and what did he do. He screwed himself and us!” I yell running my hand down my face.

“Now we are all cursed with bearing each other's pain. It’s stupid!”

“Dean you know it stops once you meet.”

“Yeah and what if she dies Sam. What then?” I ask, clenching my jaw.

“You know our line of work is not particularly long.”

“We have lasted this long.” He says standing up and handing me a bandage.

“Yeah well twenty-five is not really a milestone.” I say as I put it on.

“In this family it is.” He says handing me a cup with whisky in it.

Downing it quickly takes comfort in the burn down my throat. Licking it off my lip I stare at the little bit left in the cup thinking how I would rather be alone then her be in danger.

“Come on we have to pack. They expect us at the ball.” Sam says breaking me from my thoughts.

“Hmm.” I grunt back moving into the bathroom to get my stuff.

It was mandatory for the Guard to be at the ball. Most people didn’t even know we existed. We kept all the nasty things that went bump in the night away from the rest of the world. Hence the short life span, since most things liked to bite back when you poked at it.

We made sure no creepy crawlies got to the prince or princesses mate before they could find them. So the world could keep going on in peace. 

More like so there was someone to keep us in line. Another thing most people didn’t know. The royal family was angel’s sent by God to keep us from disobeying again. If you did you were forbidden to find your mate to forever be alone.

You could only bear children with your other half so getting them ripped away from you kept a nice leash on the families of the guard. 

Hunters we called ourselves.

Shutting the trunk to my car I tensed up feeling someone jump on my back.

“Hello Dean.” Said Clark, her chipper voice in my ear.

“Clark what did I say about personal space?”

“Oh right.” She says her body untangling itself from mine. 

“Are you going to the ball?”

“You know the answer to that.” I say, turning to look down at her small frame her ginger hair blowing in the wind. 

“Can I go?”

“You know the answer to that as well runt.” I say knowing how she hates that nickname.

“But why?”

“Because you are thirteen. The people think you have to be at least twenty-five to attend.”

“But Sam is only twenty-one.”

“Yes but he can pass for a baby faced twenty-five year old.”

“Hey!” Sam says walking past us to get in the car.

“Being thirteen sucks.”

“Enjoy it while you can runt. You don’t have any blood on your hands yet.” I say rubbing the top of her head messing up her hair.

“I hate you.” She says trying to fix her hair.

Smiling softly I bend down and press my lips to the top of her head.

“I love you kiddo.”

“I know.” She says wrapping her arms around my middle.

“Be good for your mom.” I say hugging her back.

“No promises.” She says smiling up at me then pulling away and running off.

She stops and turns back waving.

“Bye Sam!” She yells loudly.

“Be good.” He says knowing how much she gets in trouble.

Laughing softly I shake my head and get in the car leaving the apartment parking lot.

They were everywhere cloaked from the public only those with hunter blood could see them.

That’s one thing that has never happened after the great flood. No one's mate was ever outside of their ring. Their domain. Hence why Angels stayed Angels. Hunters stayed Hunters. Even the beast we hunt had rules to breed with their own kind. 

So it was said in the Garden After His Kind.

Feeling Sam smack my arm softly I was pulled from my thoughts.

“What’s with you today?” He asked, looking at me with worry once again.

“You know I hate these things Sammy.” I say scratching my stubbled covered jaw.

“Yeah but you are never like this. You are off in another world today or something.”

“I don’t know man, just thinking. Maybe I’m tired or something.” 

“You want me to drive?”

“And be late? Yeah I would rather you not wreck my baby trying to rush.” I say earning myself a glare.

Laughing, I shake my head.

“Don’t worry you’ll get your turn Sammy.” I say patting his chest.

Hearing him sigh I laugh watching him shake his head.

“It’s Sam.”

“Of course it is Sammy.” I say smirking at him. 

After a while I do let him drive it being a long drive to the kingdom, from the borderlands. Since it was set in the middle it was easily a week's drive but we had three days. Sleep was not really our priority at the moment.

I woke up to someone shaking me.

“What?” I ask looking up at Sam, his brown eyes staring at me from the front seat.

“Dude you got to take over everything is getting blurry.”

“Move over.” I say getting out of the car and moving in the front seat as he moves to lay on the door.

“I swear you think they would give us more notice if they need us there that bad. I mean can’t they send some kind of griffin or something to tell us when they are having a ball.” I complain as I pull out of the gas station we are in.

“Knowing how much they like us they would send a gargoyle.” Sam mumbles from laying on the door.

“How do you kill those again?” I ask, running my hand down my face trying to wipe the sleep from my face.

“Fire Dean. You kill them with fire.”

“Oh right a sword breathed on by a dragon. I swear the red tape will get you killed.”

“You need to study more.”

“That’s why I have you.” I say smiling over at him.

I laugh when he lifts his hand and flips me off.

“Rest up Sammy who knows you might get lucky when we get there.” I say patting his chest.

“Hmm.” He says followed by silence.

The car is soon filled with his snores. I shake my head wondering how I could ever sleep in the same room as him. 

Taking a breath I turn the radio on and roll down the window to keep myself awake for the better part of the next twenty-eight hours we have left. 

We arrived shortly after dark. Getting out of the car I rolled my shoulders and popped my neck stiff from sitting so long.

“Dean.” Says a familiar voice from behind me.

Turning around I meet the eyes of my father .

“Dad.” I say nodding earning one back.

“Hey Dad.” Sam says coming around to the back of the car.

I watch as he walks up to him Sam hugging him tightly.

“How was the drive up?” 

“Well you know long.” I say putting my bag from the trunk since we will be here for at least a few days.

“Now if you don’t mind I would like to get some sleep before sunrise.”

“You remember where it’s at?” Dad asks, talking about the tower where the guard slept.

“Dad I have been coming here since I was nineteen I know.” I say having no sleep puts me in a bad mood.

“Go on Sam can fill you in later.” He says jerking his head toward the large stone building. 

Nodding I sling my bag over my shoulder and walk toward hopefully to bed.

Going into the shared room for us three I throw my bag on the couch so Sam and Dad get the only two beds in the room. Reaching behind me I pull my shirt off walking into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

I stop to look in the mirror, my eyes falling to the mark over my heart. There were times when I thought the lines made up something. But most all marks were just simple swirls or shapes. None ever made since.

Though everyone you talked to who had their mate swore they could not think of a better Mark. It fits them perfectly. 

Going off mine she must be just a messed up as I am.

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 6) - Jason Todd

Gif: Oliverbruce3 on Tenor

Word Count: 3K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne askes Y/N to come to Wayne Manor for dinner. 

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterizations.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget   @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird Part 5 | Masterlist |

________________________________________________________________

Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy liked to go on Date Nights, but they didn’t like the idea of leaving two hyenas alone in the house. Bud and Lou wouldn’t fight each other, but that didn’t mean the house would come out unscathed, so they asked Y/N if she would be willing to give up her Saturday night to look after the two animals. She was more than happy to take care of the hyenas.

“Are you sure about this, Hun?” Harley asked as she stroked Y/N’s hair, “you wouldn’t rather be with your man?”

“My man understands that you are all important to me,” Y/N said with a chuckle, “anyway, if it’s alright with you, I might invite him over.”

“We’re more than happy to let you have Jason over,” Ivy said, “you’re a big girl and can handle yourself.”

“He’s a nice young man,” Harley nodded, “very good looking too if I say so myself. You and he get nasty yet?” Harley then winked dramatically.

“AUNTIE HARLEY!” Y/N whined, completely embarrassed, but Harley howled with laughter before saying she was sorry and kissing the cheek of her niece, then pinching that very same cheek. Ivy watched, simultaneously amused by Harley and embarrassed for Y/N.

“Alright you,” Ivy scolded Harley teasingly, “get in the car, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Love ya, Babes!” Harley said as she walked to the car, waving as she did.

“Okay, so you know where the food is?” Ivy checked.

“Since I was a kid, Auntie Ivy,” Y/N assured her, “go, have fun. You know I’ll be fine.”

“I just worry, sprout.” Ivy hugged her niece before leaving to join Harley in the car, but called behind her as she did, “AND IF YOUR FELLA COMES OVER, BE SAFE!”

“Oh my god,” Y/N groaned, pinching her temple as her aunts waved at her as they drove away.

________________________________________________________________

Y/N did end up inviting Jason round. It was a call where she simply told him the fact. Harley and Ivy were out, she was looking after Bud and Lou, and she was wondering if Jason wanted to keep her company.

“KITTY-CAT?” Called Jason as he let himself him.

“LIVING ROOM,” She yelled back. Y/N was sitting on the floor, playing tug of war with Bud while Lou snoozed on the sofa. Jason came into the living room and looked down to see Y/N cross-legged on the sofa and smiled at her and the sight before him.

“This safe?” Jason asked with a chuckle, sitting down on the other sofa without the Hyena on. “I mean, they are still wild animals,” Jason pointed out as Y/N rolled Bud onto their back and tickled the animal’s tummy, which Bud thoroughly enjoyed.

“Oh, they’re like giant puppies, really,” Y/N assured Jason as Bud jumped back up and licked Y/N’s cheek before lying across her legs and whining with joy. “See.”

“I’m spending my Saturday night in the house of Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, babysitting Hyenas with the daughter of Catwoman, who I am dating” Jason shook his head in disbelief, “what has life become?”

“A lot more fun,” Y/N teased as she gently lifted Bud off and laid him on the ground, moving to sit next to Jason, who wrapped an around her and kissed her gently and placed his other hand on her thigh, but before anything could happen, Bud climbed onto the sofa and settle himself between Jason and Y/N, wiggling his bottom to create more room for himself before looking Y/N in the face and lying down, resting his head on her lap. Y/N looked at him apologetically.

“So, not only are your aunts and mother protective of you, two hyenas are too?”

“Pretty much,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, “sorry,” she chuckled a little, “I guess at times like these you wish you went for an easier girl, huh?”

“No way,” Jason assured her, awkwardly reaching over the wild beast and placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. “I like all of this, it’s fun.”

“Well, not many people would call babysitting the hyenas of two of the most wanted criminals in Gotham ‘fun’ but each to their own.”

“Well,” Jason grinned, “Is this fun for you?”

“Yeah, this is my normal.”

“I’m willing to let this become my normal,” Jason said.

Y/N smiled and leaned over the hyena to give Jason a quick peck on the lips, causing him to smile. She then looked at the animal and discovered he was sleeping.

“He’s sleeping,” she whispered, moving Bud off of her lap and standing up, gesturing for Jason to follow her. They quietly and carefully moved their way into the kitchen where Y/N sat on the counter and Jason walked up to her, kissing her gently and running his hands up her thighs. When they pulled back, Y/N grinned and chuckled, “and now you’re making out with the daughter of Catwoman in the kitchen of Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy.”

“Feels like a fever dream,” Jason laughed as he kissed Y/N again, sliding his hands underneath her shirt and trailed his fingers over her skin. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and then ran her fingers through his hair, smiling into a kiss.

“This is totally real, Tweety Bird,” Y/N said teasingly.

“I don’t know…” Jason grinned, “I think I might need a little convincing here, Kitty Cat.”

“I’m more than happy to help with that,” Y/N whispered against his lips before moving her hands under his shirt, feeling his abs. Before they could get any further there was a yapping noise behind them and they broke apart to see Bud and Lou standing there, looking at them. The animals walked towards them, the noise of their claws on the wooden floor echoing, nudging Jason back.

“I’m going to go to the toilet,” Jason said.

“Upstairs, first door on the left,” Y/N told him. Jason smiled awkwardly before walking away. Y/N listened to him go upstairs and close the door before turning to Bud and Lou, hands on her hips and sighing. “Did Ivy and Harley tell you to cockblock me or something?” She complained to the hyenas before pulling two steaks from the fridge and threw them to the animals.

________________________________________________________________

“Tell me about your father,” Bruce said to Y/N one day as they worked together. He was determined to make sure he got to know his new recruit, very impressed with her work. “You talk about your mother a lot, but never your father. Is he in the picture?”

“Oh, no,” Y/N shook her head, “he died before I was born.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bruce looked at his intern sympathetically. “May I ask how he passed?”

“Shot,” she mumbled, “at Penguin’s, he and Mum were celebrating the fact she was pregnant. He threw himself between Mum and the shooter to protect her.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Bruce sighed as he awkwardly placed a hand on her shoulder, “can I give you a hug?”

“Yeah…” Y/N nodded as Bruce pulled her into his arms. He himself being young when losing both parents understood the pain felt when growing up without one, especially through the crime in Gotham. Bruce pulled back and gave Y/N a sad smile, an understanding smile.

“Come to Wayne Manor tonight,” he said, “for dinner. Jason would love to see you and Alfred is cooking Venison Wellington – you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Y/N smiled, “I’d like that.”

________________________________________________________________

The dining room in Wayne Manor was extravagant, but even that was an understatement with its insanely high ceiling, chandeliers and red velvet drapes. Y/N felt her jaw drop upon the sight of the room as Jason showed it to her.

“I know,” he chuckled, holding her hand, “I had the same reaction too.”

“Did he even use it before you moved in?”

“I think he and that Dick Grayson he adopted used it a few times, but Bruce mainly eats in his office” Jason said.

“And even then I have to force him,” Alfred said appearing with his hands behind his back, “ever since he was a boy.”

“Alfred!” Y/N grinned hugging the butler.

“Y/N,” he said hugging her back and looking at her closely, studying her. Alfred looked into her eyes and smiled. “I’m thrilled you could make it.”

“Me too!”

“Master Wayne is currently finishing up some paperwork, so you and Jason are free to roam and do as you please,” Alfred said before leaving, “now excuse me, I have to check dinner.”

“Wanna see my bedroom?”

“Pervert,” Y/N teased nudging his shoulder.

“Says the girl who nearly had sex in the kitchen of her aunts house.”

“You weren’t complaining,” Y/N pointed out, “and if Bud and Lou didn’t interrupt us we would have.”

“Shut up,” Jason chuckled as he led Y/N by the hand upstairs and to his room on the top floor of Wayne Manor. It was a large room with a lot of wooden furniture and velvet reds, but there were touches of Jason around the room – his grubby converses were thrown into a corner, his jacket on a chair, and there were poster hanging up as well (probably without Bruce’s knowledge) of singers and movies and TV shows and bikes.

“It’s nice,” she said as she stepped in and looked around before turning and looking at Jason. “Comfy.”

“Thanks,” Jason grinned as he walked up to Y/N and placed his hands on her waist, “what’d you wanna see in my room first?”

“How about the bed?”

“Good choice,” he said picking her up and putting her on the bed, kissing her as he did. Jason laid Y/N down and climbed atop her, brushing her hair from her face.

“OH,” said a voice, causing Jason and Y/N to pull apart and for Jason to jump up from Y/N. They turned to the door to see a bewildered Bruce standing there. He looked very shocked at the sight, like a protective parent, and considering that he was the guardian of Jason, it didn’t surprise Y/N, but she was still embarrassed. “I was coming to see if two wanted to join me for a drink.”

“Yeah,” the two said after meeting each other’s eyes and silently agreeing with each other. There was always another time for Jason to show her the bed.

________________________________________________________________

They all sat in Bruce’s office, Y/N and Jason sharing a leather sofa and Bruce sitting on a dramatic leather chair. Each of them was holding a glass of scotch and chattering away until it was time to be called to dinner. Bruce was smiling widely the whole time with a slight shifting to his sitting form as though a constant need for the loo possessed him.

“So,” Bruce said, “I guess you are wondering why I invited you…”

“I supposed it was about the talk about my dad.”

“Actually no,” Bruce said putting his glass down, “I was planning to invite you anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, smiling, “you have been beyond impressive during your time at Wayne Enterprises, and… well… I would like to offer you a permanent position, all ready for you to take when you finish your degree if you would like to stay at the company.”

“Seriously?” Y/N blinked, jaw dropped, grinning widely, looking between Jason and Bruce, both of whom were trying to contain their excitement of telling Y/N all this.

“Only if you want to,” Jason said.

“YES!” She cried out with joy, “I’d love that, thank you so much.”

“I am guessing the news was well-received,” Alfred chuckled upon walking in and looking at the beaming Y/N.

“Very well,” Bruce said standing up and nodding.

“Then let’s celebrate with a nice and hot dinner then, shall we?”

“Let’s,” Bruce nodded.

________________________________________________________________

One might expect the Wayne Manor Dining Room to be deathly quiet, but it was, in fact, brimming with laughter and conversation and even Alfred sat and ate with them, it felt more like a family dinner.

“So,” Y/N said, “my prom date comes to collect me,” she tells the story, “and the moment he enters the flat my mother and my aunts are on him like hyenas,” Jason sniggers lowly at the comment, “they’re asking him his intentions, where we’ll be going after prom, if I’ll be home by a certain time, if he’s planning to take me to a hotel. Before he’s even given me the corsage, he’s out the door, running away!”

“Oh no,” Bruce laughed, “you poor thing, what happened?”

“Well, my mum and my aunts took me out on the town instead – a nice girl’s night to make up for what they did.”

“Aren’t you upset that you missed prom?” Jason asked her.

“Can you see me getting all upset about whose Prom Queen?”

“Not really…”

“So it didn’t bother you missing prom?” Alfred asked, “Americans make such a deal over it!”

“Lord no,” Y/N scoffed, “I hated everyone at my school.”

“What did your girl’s night entail of?”

“We went to a fancy restaurant, then we went to a play and things like that.”

“Sounds nice,” Jason smiled.

“It was, and my mum was honestly so ashamed of herself for scaring that boy off,” Y/N explained, “she even offered to go and talk to him about it.”

“Did you take her up on it?” Bruce asked.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “Why would I want to be with a guy who couldn’t handle my family?”

“Your family’s awesome,” Jason said, “that guy was a coward!”

“I’ll be sure to tell Mum that,” Y/N laughs, “she’ll be flattered.”

They carried on chatting for ages. The topic which came up varied from work to schooling to

“How’s Jim Gordon?” Alfred asked Bruce, “I heard he dropped by the office again.”

“Yes, he’s been coming by a lot recently,” Bruce frowned as Y/N and Jason just shrugged.

“He seems a nice man,” Y/N thought aloud, “although I’ve only met him three times.”

“He is,” Alfred nodded before turning back to Bruce, “what have the two of you spoken about?”

“Nothing much,” Bruce shrugged as he sipped his drink, “erm… well…” he frowned and thought, “he’s mainly been wanting to talk about the past, my childhood – my parents’ case.”

“Your parents?”

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “Jim was the detective on my parents’ case, perhaps the only detective in Gotham who was honest at the time. Still an honest man, and has inspired many detectives to be better.”

“It’s nice that Gotham has improved over recent years,” Alfred commented.

“When was the other time you met Jim?” Jason frowned in thought. “We’ve seen him twice, so when was the third?”

“Oh, erm, apparently Jim knows my mother,” Y/N shrugged it off. Alfred went very quiet and darted his eyes around the people at the table.

“Well, Jim is one of the few detectives who made sure to check up on people affected by the case he was working on,” Bruce explained, “Jim has many friends throughout Gotham and beyond, and he is perhaps one of the only people I know who does, in fact, have the respect of Penguin, and Riddler.”

“Really?” Y/N lifted her eyes up. “Penguin?”

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, “sorry if it is a sensitive topic for you, your father being killed in Penguin’s.”

“No, no,” Y/N shook her head, “it’s fine. I mean, its Gotham so it’s impossible to avoid him.”

“Y/N has made you aware of her deceased father?” Alfred frowned.

“Yes.”

“Poor Selina,” Jason sighed and shook his head. Y/N and him had spoken extensively about her long-dead father and her mother, “imagine what that was like, one moment having everything at your fingers, a loving spouse, a baby, happiness, and then losing most of that in the blink of an eye. She’s such a strong woman.”

“Selina?” Bruce frowned and looked at Jason.

“Yeah, Y/N’s mother,” Jason said.

“Your mother is called Selina?” He turned to Y/N.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Selina Kyle.”

At the mention of her mother’s name, Bruce’s face dropped and the cutlery fell from his hands, making a clattering noise as they hit the plate. He stared at Y/N. There was a deafening silence in the room. Alfred looked uncomfortable, Bruce was stunned, Jason was confused and Y/N was just bewildered that the mention of her mother’s name caused this strange environment.

“Did she say something wrong?” Jason said breaking the silence, but Alfred shushed him quick enough.

Bruce still hadn’t taken his eyes off of Y/N, his mouth hanging open. He then closed his mouth and licked his lips before opening his mouth and finally speaking. There it was. The thing about Y/N that seemed so familiar all came rushing to him the moment he heard her mother’s name. Bruce just stared at Y/N. He looked at her eyes. Her eyes. Her eyes. Y/N Kyle and her eyes were all Bruce Wayne focused on.

“Y/N,” he began slowly and quietly, “how old are you?”

“Nineteen,” she said still not sure what was going on. Bruce then looked across the table at Alfred, whose expression told Bruce everything he needed to know, the shame on his face from hiding the truth from the boy he raised, his boss, his friend, his surrogate son. The billionaire looked at Y/N Kyle one last time before getting up to his feet, throwing his napkin down on the table and storming from the dining room, he then walked out of Wayne Manor, leaving Y/N and Jason absolutely stunned. Alfred just stood up.

“Shall I make a pot of tea?” he said.

“What just happened?” Y/N said, “Did I upset him?”

“No, dear, you have nothing to do with this,” Alfred assured her, “sugar?”

“Sure…” She said quietly as Alfred left the room. When he was gone, Y/N leaned across to Jason, scared. “What just happened?” She asked in a small voice.

“I don’t know,” Jason said honestly, meeting Y/N’s eyes and shaking his head.

“Where did he even go?” She asked as they got up and walked to the window to see the taillights of Bruce’s car disappearing.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “Y/N,” he said turning to look at the young woman, “who is your mother really?”

“I don’t know.”

[noonachronicles]

Everlong Pt. 7

Kwon Jiyong/ G Dragon X Reader

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: mild language and some violent imagery (?)

Genre: Hades/Jiyong. Greek God AU. Fantasy.

A/N: Fingers crossed y’all think it’s good lolololol!

Update Tag: @kathrynwynterbourne , @astarlitworld, @blue-lungs , @violagoth , @un-idntfied , @optimizche , @de-gabyconamor , @134340-cm @wonderful39530

Moodboard by Bae @memoiresofaneternaldreamer

One weekend during your first summer living with Jiho, when you were still just roommates, the two of you had gotten into a massive argument. It was a Saturday towards the end of June and had been the longest day of the year, literally. Summer solstice. The sun had reached its highest point in the sky and the daylight had lasted longer than any other day of the year. Longer than anyone had wanted really. The apartment didn’t have central air so most the day had seen you two bickering over who got to stand directly in front of the open freezer door since the a/c unit in the window had broken down the summer prior and Jiho had never replaced it.

Tensions were already peaked and made worse by the fact that you’d been so hot you couldn’t even think of eating anything other than popsicles, so you were also starving. Irritation levels were bordering on nuclear. You had gone to the refrigerator to grab one of the chilled water bottles, the only thing giving you any relief, when you found that Jiho had taken the last one and hadn’t replaced it. The screaming match lasted for two full hours and the subject matter varied so many times that by the time you walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind you, you couldn't even remember what the original issue had been.

All that afternoon and well after the sun had set, you walked around downtown. You didn’t stop anywhere, you didn’t go inside any air conditioned buildings or cool down with an iced coffee. You walked and you walked and when you thought your feet were going to pop off at the ankle, you kept walking. Finally when you were sticky all over where your sweat had bloomed and dried, and bloomed all over again until you felt like you were more layers of sweat than layers of skin, you went home. Your plan worked.

By the time you’d gotten back to the apartment Jiho had passed out in his room, which meant the argument would remain dead. It also meant you were able to take a nice long cold shower, so long that when you stepped out you were still shivering. And you did it without him complaining about how much water you used. By the time you let your body crash down on the mattress you were so exhausted that you slept well into the next afternoon. Waking up you found that Jiho had gotten up early that morning and purchased a new air conditioner and replaced the water in the refrigerator. He’d put tiny gift bows on each bottle and left a note with a cute cartoon drawing on it that said ‘I’m sorry roomie’. That was the first time you felt anything for him beyond your normal platonic relationship.

That walk, you’d thought, was much worse than this one. The sun was warm here, but the air around you was relatively cool. When you did finally feel yourself starting to perspire you simply took off your sweater, grateful to your past self for remembering to wear a shirt underneath which you didn’t normally do, and wrapped it around your waist. Jiyong seemed completely unphased by anything. Still in his heavy coat and sweater combo, not even a hint of a bead of sweat on his brow.

The only thing that made your other walk slightly better was having all the people to watch, the buildings to peek into, and other general activity often found in cities to observe. Your initial excitement had worn off sooner than you’d hoped as Jiyong led you down a dirt road towards the mountains you’d seen earlier. He’d said that he wanted to get the nasty stuff over with first and the pair of you had been walking the road to Tartarus for what felt like hours. You’d talked a lot along the way but there was a lot of silence as well. You liked both equally. You could, you’d thought to yourself several times, talk to Jiyong for hours about anything and never get tired of it. You could also just be near him silently and have that be enough as well.

“It feels like we’ve been walking forever,” you said as the two of you finally reached the mountain. You squinted up at the bright orb in the sky and then followed Jiyong towards a creek that led to an opening in the mountains, a valley. “But the sun isn’t even at its highest point yet, it’s not even noon.”

“Time works differently here.” he said simply. “It moves slowly at first and then before you know it, it moves very, very quickly.”

You hummed thoughtfully and leaped onto a large rock sticking out above the shallow water. “So what’s down here?”

“Horrible, terrible things I would have never suggested you see or experience in life or in death.” he said quite bluntly.

“Drama queen.” you teased with an eye roll before jumping to the next rock and catching your balance.  

Jiyong followed along side the small creek, watching you as you hopped from one large flat rock to the next over and over. He was finding your constant playfulness refreshing. He’d walked this world a million times both by himself and in the company of many others, but you seemed to see it differently than anyone before you. Several times already you’d pointed out things to him that he’d been taking for granted. Smells that you loved, sights you found breathtaking. You saw everything that no one else ever took notice of all while asking a million and one questions. He knew he’d answer a million more for you if you wanted to ask him.

As curious as you were, however, he still didn’t really like the idea of you going to Tartarus. He wasn’t even really fond of you having come this far. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, not any of it. And he still didn’t know enough about you to be sure you could handle it all. You could do things and see things beyond what you should be capable of, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t still mortal. That you weren’t still vulnerable to the tricks and traps of the underworld.

He scratched the back of his neck nervously as you hopped to another rock, “Will you please be careful. If you break an ankle I’m not carrying you. I might drag your body but that’s it, that’s as chivalrous as I get.”

“Listen Frodo, you may enjoy impossibly long walks through deserted wastelands, but I’m just trying to find fun where I can get it, okay?” you said taking another leap.

He scoffed, “I’d like to remind you that this extended journey was your own idea. So desperate to see it all.”

“Maybe,” you said before your next big jump, “so. In fairness to me, when you said there wouldn’t be any creepy skeletons or sad spirits, I thought you were lying. I didn’t realize that besides the people walking around near the gates, we were going to be the only two people in the entire underworld.”

“How long do you think the underworld has been around?” Jiyong asked clasping his hands behind his back as he continued to walk parallel to you.

“Like...awhile.”

“And how many people do you think die every year?” he asked.

“A bajillion.” you said sarcastically, “but doesn’t that just prove my point that there should be more people, more souls, hanging around?”

“Fifty-five million people died last year. Of course that number increases as the number of people being born each year increases, so it wasn’t always that high, but you get the point. So what would you suggest we do with millions of people in our limited space?” he finished his rant.

“What would I suggest ‘we’ do? Who is ‘we’ exactly?”  

He seemed to sputter out his response. “Just… whoever runs this place. Not us we, but the general usage of the word.”

You hopped across three large stones landed in the gravel beside Jiyong. “Well then, what do they do with everyone? Mr. I know everything ever about everything ever.”

“It’s a little bit different everywhere,” he started to explain but you grabbed his arm and he paused.

“Who is that?” you asked nervously looking down the creek.

There was a gangly man walking towards the two of you. Torn, dark denim stretched over his impossibly long legs and tucked into dark brown leather hiking boots. On top of that he wore a plain gray hoodie underneath a black coat. His black hair was quaffed to one side and even though his head was down you could see the way his ears pulled away from his head like wings, and you didn’t know why but it made you smile despite your nerves. There was a burlap satchel hanging at his hip that he was digging in, so he hadn’t even noticed the two of you yet.

“Pothos,” Jiyong muttered. The god of longing. One of the three erotes, gods of love and desire. He was a decent friend actually, he and Hades had bonded through their commonalities. Similar to Hades, Pothos had also been duped by his two brothers and was now in charge of those souls who had wasted their lives on unrequited love, in their deaths. “Stay here a minute.”

“Jiyong…” you whispered and squeezed his arm tightly. “Don’t go.”

“You’re okay here, I swear. I’ll be right back.”  

He walked away as you watched nervously. Jiyong had almost gotten all the way to the tall man before he’d even realized he wasn’t alone. As he lifted his face you were struck by his features. The soft curve of his chin emphasized the sharp angles of his jaw. His thick eyebrows were shaped with a peak that expressed a mischievousness, matching the cheshire curve of his lips. He smiled when he saw Jiyong as if he knew him, like he wasn’t some trespasser. It earned your curiosity, but you were too far to hear what they said when they spoke.

“Hades!” Pothos greeted the god cheerfully, “Friend, what are you doing here?”

“Shh,” he hissed, “Don’t. Please don’t say that name.”

“Oh..kay.” Pothos said confused, but not surprised. Hades always was a strange one. “Is it already that time of year?”

“No, I’m not here for inspections.” he said clearing his throat, “Why are you here?”

“I was just dropping off some new charges. Went by the pavillion earlier, you’ve got a heavy backlog. They were complaining that you’d disappeared. Where’ve you been?”

“Busy.” he said shortly, hoping that he wouldn’t give too much away.

“With a young woman, perhaps?” Pothos grinned, “Don’t think I didn’t notice your friend. She, who radiates life like no other creature in this realm. Who is she?”        

“Don’t worry about it.”

The other gods mouth fell in sudden realization, “You don’t want me to use your name because she doesn’t know you’re Hades. That is...curious.”

“No, she doesn’t know and if she finds out from anyone but me,” he said pointedly, “I will tear the wings off that individuals back with my own two hands.”

“Ah, you know they’ll only grow back.” Pothos grinned, “What’s your fake name?”

“You don’t need to know, since you won’t be speaking to her.”

With a charming smile Pothos raised his hand and beckoned you over to them. He turned back to his friend as you started walking towards them, and muttered  “Tick Tock.”

“Jiyong.” He groaned just before you stepped up beside him.

“Well hello, darling. Beautiful day, don’t you think?”

You looked to Jiyong who nodded and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’ve been enjoying it so far.”

“And Jiyong here, he’s been treating you kindly?” he asked.

“The kindest I’ve ever been treated.”

“Oh,” Pothos raised an eyebrow in amusement before looking between the two of you for a moment. “Seems I’ve already done my job here then.”

“Great, so you can leave.” Jiyong said with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, of course, I’ll give you two some privacy.” he winked.

“Wait,” you said suddenly, as he started to take his leave. He turned to you expectantly and you stuttered out, “Can I... is it rude to ask?”

“The wings?” Pothos smiled. You’d noticed the cream colored feathers peeking out from beneath his jacket when you were watching the conversation earlier and had been curious about them ever since. More than anything you wanted to know what they felt like. “Of course. Anything for a friend of...Jiyong. Let me shake them out for you.”

He took his bag off his shoulder and handed it to Jiyong who scowled, and then did the same with his jacket. The hoodie he was wearing had massive slits down the back to account for the wings, which was one of your questions answered. As he stood there the wings grew from the length of his spine to the length of his entire body. He shook his shoulders, ruffling the feathers before expanding them out completely in a dramatic flourish. The power of them blowing your hair like a gust of wind in a storm. Jiyong made a noise at the back of his throat in annoyance.

“They’re all yours.” He called over his shoulder.

You ran your hand down the smooth feathers, they felt like silk against your fingertips. Pothos shivered at the feeling and you pulled your hand away quickly, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that was fine. It felt lovely.” He turned to face you, his smile faded into something sad. As his wings shrunk down to their previous size, he lifted his large hand to your face. He brushed a loose piece of hair from your cheek and let his palm rest on it for a moment before saying, “I’m just afraid that you’re one of mine, darling. For that I’m terribly sorry.”

“She’s not.” Jiyong snapped, tossing the bag and jacket into Pothos arms before snatching your wrist in his hand to pull you behind him, as if to protect you. “We have to go now.”

“I’ve been wrong before.” he said and looked at Jiyong with pity in his eyes, only making the other god more angry. “Have a wonderful day.”

You didn't even get a second to say goodbye before you were being dragged down the length of the creek. Jiyong didn’t stop or speak until Pothos was out of view, until you’d rounded a curve that opened to a length of the valley that was completely covered in red rose bushes. You dug your heels into the ground, effectively halting his sudden rampage. There were small pebbled paths on both sides of the creek, but beyond that it was rose bushes as far as the eye could see. Not just on the floor of the valley, but growing along the walls of it as well.

“Would you…calm down?” you asked, trying to focus on him, but getting too distracted by the sight before you.

“Do not touch them.” he said seeing the longing look in your eyes.

Your jaw clenched at the command and you immediately wanted to defy him. “Why not?”

“Roses have thorns.”

“I think I’ll live with a couple of scratches.” you said sarcastically.

“They’re poisonous.” he responded quickly.

Your nose scrunched, “Seriously?”

“It is the underworld.” he shrugged. He held out his hand for you to grab, you accepted without any more of a fuss.  “Here, you can hop on your rocks.”

He walked on the bank between you and the roses, acting like a barrier. You kept your hand in his as you continued your leaping game.

“Who was that guy?” you asked after some time had passed and you were sure that Jiyong had calmed down from his previously frazzled state. “Is he an angel?”

Jiyong scoffed beside you, amused at the thought, “He wishes.”

“He seemed very nice,” you said thoughtfully, “except...what do you think he meant? When he said you’re one of mine.”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s not true.”

“Ji…”

“Drop it.” he snapped. You stopped on the last rock you’d landed on and pulled your hand from his. He looked over at you with a sigh, “I’m sorry. Just- it doesn’t matter what he said, if it’s wrong. He’s just a glorified gardener anyway. I don’t want you needlessly worrying about things.”

“Fine.” you said and stubbornly started moving forward without reaching over for his hand again.

“Thank you.” he tucked his hands in his pockets sounding just as grumpy as you.

The feeling of an argument between the two of you didn’t sit well in your stomach. After a moment of silence you called over your shoulder, “You said he’s a gardener?”

“Yeah.”

“And all of these roses, are they his?” Jiyong hummed in confirmation, “He’s not that great at it. Most of these are sad and droopy.”

He hummed again and you sighed dramatically and turned on your heel to face him.

“Are you mad or-” your sneaker slipped on a bit of wet rock. You tried to correct yourself but failed and your eyes blew wide open as you started to fall backwards into the bushes beside the creek.

Jiyong lunged forward and reached out to catch you. His arms kept you from falling completely into the bushes, but your back and head had still dipped into the flowers. Several petals brushed against your neck and cheeks. It was one of the worst noises you’d ever heard in your entire life. A chorus of voices crying out in agony crashed around you. Endless wailing that made you feel like your own heart was breaking in your chest. He pulled you from the flowers as fast as he possibly could, and as soon as you were no longer touching them the screaming was silenced. It was too little too late as the pain from the roses rang in your ears and echoed through your veins.

Back on your own two feet you brushed your cheek with the back of your hand and brought it away with a few drops of blood smeared across it. “Am I going to die?”

“Why would you die? Where are you hurt?” he asked looking over your body in a quick inspection.

“You said they were poisonous.”

“That was a lie,” he confessed, “I just didn’t want you to touch them. I didn't want you to hear them.”

“Explain.” you demanded. Your heart was aching in your chest and you thought you might cry soon, though you weren’t sure why. The sudden strike of emotions was unsettling and you need a reason for it all.

“Each rose in this valley is a soul.” you gasped lightly at his words, “This is the valley of mourning. Every soul here wasted their lives on unrequited love or died of a broken heart.”

“Your friend… he plants these souls. He said I was one of his. What does that mean? Which one am I?” you asked sounding frantic, “Heartbroken or unrequited?”

“Neither. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You won’t rest here.”

“No, I won’t! I won’t rest because I’ll be in agony for all of eternity.” you said brushing a tear from your cheek.

Jiyong grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to look at him, “This place is not for you.”

“He said…” you’d lost your grasp, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Things change, people are wrong all the time.”

You gasped out a breath between sobs, “God I can’t stop crying. What’s happening to me? I’m so sad.”

“It’s this fucking place.” He muttered, angry at himself. He should have never brought you.

He pulled you into his arms and you cried into his shoulder freely. You couldn’t understand why you had gotten so upset so quickly. As if all of the souls that belonged to the petals that touched your flesh had reached inside of you and you were subsequently feeling each and every one of their hearts breaking over and over again.

“They didn’t do anything wrong.” you sniffed after a minute, stepping back.

“Who?”

“The souls,” you answered, “They didn’t do anything wrong, but they’re still stuck here in agony all alone for the rest of eternity. No one here to listen to their pain or comfort them.”

Reaching out your hand, you cupped a single rose in your palms. There was a gently weeping that rang out around you. It was a soft sound and wrapped around you like a blanket. The weeping soul seeped inside of you. You learned its story, and you cried for it, cried with it. The idea that there were countless others surrounding you, that you would be joining them, made you feel sick.

Jiyong grabbed your hands in his, “Don’t do this. It will just upset you and nothing will change. This is their fate.”

“And mine.” you muttered.

“Not yours.” he said sternly. “Come on, I’m getting you out of here.”

Sniffling the entire way, you walked with him out of the valley. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by it and he didn’t seem to be at all. There were several times on the way out that he had to push flowers out of the way so you could pass by and not even once did he flinch. It was like he couldn’t even hear what you heard. It left you with a feeling of weakness, being so sensitive to it all and you were starting to worry, imagining that it would only get worse from here. That hadn’t even been where people were purposely tortured.  

The valley opened up to a vast empty field of long grass. The wide open space before you felt like a relief, and you let out a long deep sigh. You hadn’t even realized the valley was making you feel so claustrophobic until you were actually out of it. Looking out over the emptiness, you felt fine, you felt really good. There was nothing there that looked remotely scary. No ominous movement in the grass to indicate any creatures lurking in wait. Nothing but an empty grass wasteland, and just beyond it a massive rocky hill with a large gaping hole at its base. The entrance to a cave.

“Tatarus.” you said quietly, “It’s so close.”

“I can’t lie. It’s going to be very difficult for you to make it through the field of punishment. You’re already in a weakened state by the valley of mourning.” he looked over at you and you tried to hide your still shaking hands, “I’m not comfortable taking you any further.”

“I’m stronger than you think I am.” you argued stubbornly, though you didn’t entirely feel it in your chest. “And it’s just some grass.”  

Jiyong held back a groan, “It’s not a matter of thinking you’re weak or strong. I know very well this won’t be easy for you and I’m worried. I don’t want you to feel even a miniscule amount of the pain that this place can bring. It is inexplicably worse than mourning.”  

“Why are you only worried about me and not about yourself?” you asked. Jiyong froze, unable to respond. “Because you think you’re so much stronger than me? Well, you’re not. So let’s just go.”

He sighed and followed behind you as you pushed forward, the long grass brushing against your hips. For the first time since he met you, he was angry with you. Angry that you wouldn’t just listen to him. That you had to be so persistent and curious. Two of the things he loved most about you, coming around to torture him. More than you he was angry with himself, realizing that he pushed you too much. Ever since he realized that there was something in you that was more than mortal he’d been curious too. Putting you into positions that would test you without your knowledge, wanting to know how much you could take.

It wasn’t until your reaction to the valley of mourning that he realized there was still a large part of you that was mortal, and that could be affected by the magic of this world. Now he was worried for you, scared that this would go too far. The closer a person got to the entrance of the cave to Tartarus the more powerful the energy became. Even Hades himself hated going down to the caves, they left a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt uneasy letting you keep on ahead, knowing that soon you would feel it overcome you. He was overwhelmingly concerned that it would change you, drive you mad. It would be his fault if you didn’t come back from this. His fault for being too lenient with you. His fault for not telling you who he was, again and again and again, keeping the secret to himself out of selfishness and fear that you wouldn’t accept him for who he was. The worst part, he’d realized, was that all you had done this entire time was trust him to protect you and he was going to fail.

After you were more than halfway through the field you slowed in the grass, your hand brushing against a bush with tiny white flowers. You’d seen and passed by several of the same kind of bushes as you walked through the field. You wondered what the plant was every time you saw it but had been reluctant to ask Jiyong about it since you’d went off on him. It’s all you thought about on the walk though the grass. It left you feeling like a jerk and you genuinely believed you deserved that. He didn’t think you were weak, you were just being a brat. All he’d done was try to keep you safe, and all you did in return was make it exceedingly more difficult for him with every choice you made.

“Do you know what this is?” you asked, trying to ease the awkward tension between the two of you.

He stepped up beside you and looked over at the small flowerette and hummed thoughtfully, “That’s hemlock.”

You snapped your fingers away from the flower, “Like the poison.”

“I think it’s only deadly if you ingest it,” he said with a small smile as you rubbed your fingers against your jeans. “Just don’t, you know, lick your hands or anything.”    

“Is each tiny flower a tortured soul?” you ignored his joke, and looked over at him, thinking that just maybe you were finally understanding.

Jiyong shook his head, “No, the hemlock is planted here to poison the soil.”

Suddenly you were pushed forward from behind, your chest slamming into Jiyongs shoulder. You turned quickly to see a man walking passed you. After staring at him for a long while, wondering where he had come from, you turned back around.

“Jerk... who was that?” You asked annoyed.

“Who was who?” Jiyong asked looking over his shoulder to try and see who you were talking about.

When you looked away from Jiyong you gasped. More people were walking towards the two of you. No one said anything, no one acknowledged you were even there, they just kept pushing passed. As the two of you stood there in the long grass, more and more people seemed to be filtering passed you, all of them in the opposite direction. You felt like a fish swimming up stream.

“Who are all these people?” you asked already feeling your blood tickle with anxiety. “Where’d they even come from?”

“Stay close, don’t let me go.” he said quietly sounding more than concerned

“Let’s keep going.” you said sliding your hands down Jiyongs arm to lock your hand with his. “We should try and get out of this crowd.”

“Stay with me. Y/n? Stay with me.” He said as you walked, he already sounded far away.

“Yeah, of course.”

You kept your body tucked as close to his as you could while you pushed in the opposite direction of the oncoming hoard of people. The further you walked the more people there seemed to be. The swarm just continued to grow thicker and thicker. And every last person that walked passed you was ruthlessly inconsiderate as they jostled you around, making it more and more difficult to keep close to Jiyong. Suddenly it was just your fingernails, dug deep into the fabric of his jacket, keeping you two together. That was until one final heavy body pushed through you, your hand dropped for half a second before you were frantically reaching out, trying to find him again.

“No.” You whimpered, “No. Oh no.”

Trying as hard as you could you searched the crowd to try and find him again but it was useless. You couldn’t differentiate a single thing in front of you. It was a massive blur of movement. Your stomach cramped with anxiety as you tried to push forward. Every once in a while you would catch sight of a back of a head that looked like his, or a flash of a jacket that looked like the one he’d been wearing. Crying out his name you’d  push and push through the crowd to get to him, but could never quite reach him before he disappeared again. Half given up at one point you figured he would be pushing forward, so you should just push forward too and you could meet where the crowd broke.

It had to break, there had to be an end to this. Even if you couldn’t see it. Even if the fact that you couldn’t see it terrified you even more than the crowd itself. As you continued to push through you could feel bruises growing on your arms as you were slammed with elbows and shoulders. Every brush of another body against yours made your skin crawl. Your gut had long since twisted into a hard rock and you could feel your chest starting to tighten as well. The group of people seemed to be growing, and the crowd was tightening around you. You gasped for air, stretching your neck to the sky but you weren’t tall enough to break through to the fresh oxygen you needed. Lungs tight, you gasped for breath and you pushed forward. You couldn’t stop, you had to keep going. 

Still trudging your way through the crowd something clipped your foot and you crashed down to your knees. Several feet trampled over your hands before you were able to pull them into your chest. The crowd was moving so heavily that you were surrounded by a thick cloud of dust, making you choke as it hit your lungs.  Now you had to worry not just about suffocating but also about being trampled to death. You sat in the soft dirt, pulled your knees to your chest, and tucked your head beneath your arms.  

“Go away. Go away. Go away.” you gasped through panicked sobs.

You stayed tucked in a ball for what felt like forever, as legs brushed against you, and feet tried to walk over you. Stepping harshly on your arms and back. You could feel how raw your forearms were from where people had dug their shoes into your skin before slipping off of you. You could feel blood dripping down your arms Was this it, you’d wondered, had you died? Was this how you would be tortured for eternity? You wondered what the true punishment was. The tearing pain you felt in your gut, like everything inside of you was being ripped from you? Being trapped in this endless sea of people who were treating your body like a step stool that was just in the way? Was it how alone you felt despite being surrounded by all of these people? The helplessness of it all?

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up at the clear sound of your name. The field had cleared of people. The once long grass had been marched down into mulch. You weren’t sure when he’d arrived but before you, very unexpectedly, stood Jiho about a yard away.

“What? What are you doing here?” you asked through soft sobs.

He stepped towards you, kneeling down to cup your face in his hands, “I heard you were here. I came to find you.”

“I lost him.” as the words fell from your lips it felt like something ripped in your chest and you cried out in pain as another wave of agony passed over you.

“Baby, it’s okay. I’m right here.” Jiho said wrapping his arms around you, pressing kisses against your tearstained face, “I’ve got you now.”

“No...I lost him.” Another scream escaped you. It was as if every time you said or even thought the words you were struck with another lightning bolt of pain that rippled through your entire body.

“I’m right here, you’re not alone anymore. You’re safe.” Jiho said over and over, trying to pull you tighter against him.

“No!” you screamed shoving him away from you and into the dirt. “Not you! God, it’s hurts so bad.”

“What do you need?” Jiho asked.

“Help me find him! Or kill me!” you begged.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” he asked standing up and stepping back, a look of sheer terror on his face.

“It hurts. I’m being ripped apart.” your eyes had been screwed shut with pain, but you opened them, hoping to curb some of the anxiety in your stomach. If you could just see that physically you were fine you could work on some of the other ailments. Everything was not fine.

“No, I mean...what is happening?” Jiho asked again horrified as he stared down at you.

Blinking away tears to try and see clear you saw bits of what looked like red confetti falling in front of you. For a brief moment you were so confused by why there was confetti there that you were able to distract yourself from the pain. Focusing on it for just a moment longer you realized that something wasn’t right. The confetti wasn’t falling down it was floating upwards. It wasn’t confetti at all. Your eyes followed the tiny droplets of blood back down to its source. There was a wet patch of red soaked through your shirt, beads of blood seeping through the fabric one by one and floating up into the sky above. Your breathing became more and more panicked. You tore at the cotton shirt. A muted scream tried to escape your mouth as you stared down at the gaping hole in your chest.

“Help me.” You begged looking up at Jiho, but he was useless, frozen in fear. “Help me! Help!”

You pressed your shaky palms against the wound trying to keep anything else from slipping out. With wide eyes you watched a gold cord slip from between your trembling fingers. Even though you didn’t know what it was or why it was a part of you, you could feel that this cord was important. You knew you couldn’t just let it go.

“No. No!” you cried out as you watched the cord snake its way out of your chest. Following the movement of the blood, it started to float up and away from you. It kept coming and coming, a morbid magic trick. You tried to grab the chord, to pull it back. Slick with blood your hands just slipped over it fruitlessly. “I need that. That’s mine!”

Finally the rope ended and you watched helpless as it lifted into the sky and disappeared into the clouds above. Body still aching in pain, you laid on the ground and cried. Any hope that had been left inside of you had been torn away with the gold cord.

“Let me die.” you closed your eyes and whimpered, “I want to die, let me die.”

You could feel Jiho’s fingers brush over your cheeks as he held your face in his hands and he whispered against your forehead, “Fight it.”

Opening your eyes again Jiho was there, but he was feet away from you, still frozen. However you could feel hands soft against your cheeks. Lifting your hands, you placed them where there should have been nothing, but you could distinctly feel fingers. Moving your hands down there were wrists, and then you squeezed an arm but still you saw nothing in front of you.

“Jiyong?” you choked out.

“There you go, come on.” his voice was a whisper in the back of your mind, “Fight it. Come back.”  

“Where?” you cried, “I didn’t go anywhere! You left me!”

“I thought you were so strong before, huh? What happened, you can’t cut it? Not as strong as you thought?” he was taunting you.

“I am, you asshole!” you snapped, you could hear his laugh echoed around you. “I don’t know what to do. Jiyong, I’m really scared.”

“I know you are, it’s okay. Fight it.” he repeated, his voice stronger now, “Come on, come back to me. I know you’re strong enough. I know you can do this.”

You looked back over at Jiho and then to the empty space in front of you. “This isn’t real.”

“It’s not real.” he confirmed.

“I have to go back to what’s real.” you whispered, “I have to go back to you. You’re real.”

“I’m real and you’re real. We’re right here together. Me and you.”

“Just us?”

“Just me and you.” his thumb brushed your cheek.

When you looked again Jiho was gone. The grass that had been trampled down to dirt was swaying tall around you. You let out a deep sigh, and pushed yourself up so you were sitting in the field, “Okay. I can do this...”

You tried to imagine him back in front of you, the way you had at the beach, but it wouldn’t work. You could see bits and pieces but never a clear picture. Something was missing but you didn’t know what. Lifting your face to the sky you looked at the clouds for a long while trying to figure out what to do, hoping they’d spell out some answer for you.

Then you saw it, the gold cord, and it started to float back down. It coiled into a ball in the space before you. In complete reverse of what had happened to you, you began to rebuild Jiyong with the pieces that fell from the sky. Your lips trembled once he was finally whole again in front of you, unsure if this was just another vision that would fade.

Watching your eyes closely he tilted his head and then smiled, “Hi.”

“Did I do it? Is it really you?” you asked. He nodded and your body shot forward like a bullet. Throwing your arms around him you squeezed him tighter than you’d ever held anyone or anything before and buried your face in his neck. “Don’t you ever leave me like that again!”

“I was here the whole time.” he promised, “I never left your side, I swear.”

“Really?” you asked sitting back down in front of him, “What the hell was that?”

“Your worst fear. If you can’t make it out at some point in the nightmare you die and then it starts at the beginning. It cycles like that over and over for eternity.” he said solemnly. “What was your fear? What did you see? You just kept screaming, begging me to kill you. It was fucking awful.”

“You didn’t see it? You didn’t hear anything else?” you asked feeling slightly embarrassed. That meant, if you’d deciphered it correctly, your greatest fear in the whole world was losing Jiyong. It seemed ridiculous to you to even think that could be your one true fear. How had he become so important to you? What was the chord symbolic of?

“No, why? What happened?”

“I, um, I los-” you paused remembering the last time you made an unrequited confession to him. You’d told him you loved him and he hadn’t even acknowledged it. If you told him that losing him was your worst fear and that it felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest, he’d probably run. You weren’t sure you could blame him. Instead you said, “hangnails.”

“Hangnails?”  

“Yeah, just kept going and going. Thin little strip flesh pulling and pulling until I didn’t have any skin left.” you lied, trying to make it sound like something torturous.

“That’s disgusting.” he said making a face.

“Super gross.” you agreed and looked around, “Ji, where are all the souls?”

“Each blade of grass in this field is a soul.” he said slowly as if to soften the blow. “They’re planted like seeds. The hemlock seeps into them, it’s what keeps the fear cycling.”

“That’s horrible.” you muttered looking around at the countless blades of grass, knowing what each of those souls were feeling right now, knowing that some of their fears would have left them even worse off than you had been. You felt like throwing up, but instead you started to cry again. Jiyong wrapped his arms around you and you cried onto his shoulder for a second time in as many hours.

“I know,” he whispered against your ear as his hand rubbed up and down your back, “It’s not meant to be nice. It’s not meant for souls as good and gentle as yours. These were not good souls, they’re among the worst. I promise you, they’re not worth your sympathy.”

After a moment more of crying you pulled away and wiped your face. “Sorry, I’m such a mess.”

“You’re fine.” he grinned. “Now will you please just let me take you out of this place for real?”

“No, Ji,” you said and looked across the small bit of grass that stood between you and the mouth of the cave that led to Tatarus, “I said all the way. I meant all the way.”

“Are you insane? After all of that? Are you kidding me? No. I won’t let you, not this time. You will listen to me! We are getting out of here!” he yelled, wide eyed and furious. You held it for as long as you could, which honestly wasn’t long, but you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “You are...you’re fucking joking.”

“Yeah, this is miserable, get me out of here. Please.” you laughed.

“What a little psycho...” he smiled, shaking his head in disbelief as he stood up.

“Help me.” you whined lifting your hands up.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you upward to your feet. A little lightheaded you wobbled forward and into his chest. He looked down at you genuinely concerned, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. Just a little woozy.” you smiled up at him, “You should carry me, in your arms like a baby.”

“Um, no.” He scoffed and pulled your arm over his shoulder.

“Fine, wounded soldier, just toss me over your shoulder.” he snorted with laughter as you started walking, “Piggyback? You can be Dora, I’ll be your talking backpack as we adventure through the underworld.”

“No way.” he said looking over at you sternly. “You wanted to come here so bad, you gotta walk out on your own two feet. You can do it, you’re strong. You don’t need me.”

“Just because I don’t need you doesn’t mean I don’t want you.” you muttered more to yourself, but Jiyong caught it. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, and you choked out, “Y-Your help. Want your help.”

He sighed, “Do you really want me to carry you out of here?”

“No.” you laughed, shaking your head. “This is good, I like this.”

You moved your arm down around his waist and hooked your finger through a belt loop on his pants. He shrugged, tightening his grip around your hip. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

The only thing you were sure about was that your nightmare wasn’t the only thing making your legs weak.

[tommyhardyx]

Mr Solomons - Part 4

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Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons x Reader  Word Count: 1.1k Summary: When Alfie asks you out, you’re not sure if it’s appropriate or not to say yes.  Warnings: swearing A/N: I thought I’d be nice and post this a day early considering its a shorter chapter than previous ones but I promise the next chapter will make up for it. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy if you do please consider leaving a comment!

Settled into a booth at their favourite pub, Alfie sits with his best friend Ollie reading the article he knows by heart at this point, despite it only being published a few days before.

It was Ollie who had suggested they get a drink after work, his intention to talk his friend into asking out the girl he’s been talking about every day since he met her determined to help his friend find the happiness he knows he deserves, even if he happens to be the most stubborn man he’s ever met.

“She can fucking write can’t she?” Alfie mutters, running a hand through his beard scrolling through the profile you’d written on him on his phone.

You had sent him a physical copy of the magazine, but ever since it was published online Alfie has kept the tab open on his phone, not because he was particularly proud it was about him and more so because it was you who had written it, you who made him sound so impressive with your words.

“She sure can,” Ollie mutters, lifting his beer to his lips to hide the smirk that sits upon them.

Ever since you first stepped through the doors to the distillery Alfie hadn’t been able to get you off his mind. He’d felt bad after the way he treated you when you came back a second time, recognising his crappy behaviour after Ollie had yelled at him for it.

“Get that fucking look off your face mate.”

“Sorry Alf, you’re not my boss when we’re not at work,” Ollie shoots back, earning a glare from his friend. “If you’re thinking about her this much you should just ask her out.”

Alfie’s glare deepens, the look on his face one that would make some men shiver but not Ollie who has been on the receiving end of that look for years.

“When’s the last time you went out with someone?”

“Why’re you always on my fucking back about it?”

“Because for some reason, I actually care about you and I want you to be happy. You seem happy when you think about her, imagine how much happier you’d be if you took her out,” Ollie points out.

“Mate, why the fuck would she agree to go out with me after I was a prick to her? Should have seen her fucking face when she left,” Alfie says shaking his head.

“I did, she looked devastated. But you made it up to her right? You’ve spent time together twice since then and neither time was for the article. If you were such a prick she wouldn’t have agreed to see you again.”

“I guess, still don’t mean she’ll agree to go out with me.”

“Then why’d you give her your number?”

Alfie opens his mouth to retort, but there’s nothing to say as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Exactly, so text her and ask her out. Now.”

Ignoring Ollie’s smug look, Alfie unlocks his phone fingers hesitating over the keyboard as he tries to figure out what to say.

Text from Alfie: I was wondering something

Text from Y/N: Wondering what?

Text from Alfie: Would you like to go to dinner with me this Saturday night?

Text from Y/N: Are you serious?

Text from Alfie: No, this is the set up to a fucking joke. Yes I’m serious!

Text from Y/N: You know, at first I thought maybe Ollie had stolen your phone but this is definitely Alfie.

Text from Y/N: Look Alfie, I like you but it just feels weird, we met because I wrote a piece on you. Just give me some time to think about it. I’ll give you my answer asap.

Text from Alfie: Yeah, ‘course, no problem.

“You said fucking what?”

It’s the third time Nancy had asked the same question since you showed her the texts, her eyes wide as she reads them over, again and again, your phone clutched in her hands as she tries to wrap her head around what you’ve done.

“Y/n, go out with him! Why wouldn’t you?”

“I want to, I really want to but it just doesn’t feel right. Is it even appropriate to go out with someone I did a profile on?”

“Who cares? He’s handsome, he’s nice, and you definitely fancy him so why are you hesitating?”

“I don’t know. What if he’s only asking because he feels bad after that time in his office?”

“Girl I am telling you that this,” she begins, holding your phone out to you and pointing to Alfie’s last text. “Is a text of disappointment, the poor man is probably trying desperately to hold himself together right now.”

“Oh, he is not,” you mutter, snatching your phone back from her before she replies for you.

“And the only way to stop him from being so sad is to go out with him,” she continues, grinning at the way you roll your eyes. “I seriously can’t believe you ‘miss pulled an all-nighter to finish your piece on him because you couldn’t stop thinking about him’ are actually hesitating to say yes to dinner with him.”

“What if Quinn finds out and I lose my job because there’s some rule about sleeping with people you write a profile on?” you ask.

Nancy grins at you, resting her chin on her hand, elbow propped up on the back of the couch.

“Who said anything about sleeping with him?”

Groaning you pick up the nearest pillow and throw it at her, hitting her straight in the face and making her laugh in the process. 

You lucked out on a flatmate, the girl only a few years older than you, ever since you met her she’s felt more like a big sister you never asked for than a flatmate you’re forced to share your space with. She’s always been there with a piece of advice when you need it, and now with your Alfie dilemma, she’s a little too happy to indulge you. 

“Just say yes y/n. We both know you want to.”

Unlocking your phone, you stare down at your earlier conversation fingers hesitating over the keyboard as you decide what to do though you know 

Finally, you give in and begin to type ignoring the look on Nancy’s face.

Text from Y/N: I’d love to go out with you.

Text from Alfie: But?

Text from Y/N: No but, I want to go out with you Alfie.

Text from Alfie: You do?

Text from Y/N: Yes!

Text from Alfie: Right, well then I’ll pick you up at 7 Saturday night. You got a leather jacket?

Text from Y/N: Yeah... why?

Text from Alfie: Wear it.

Tags: @eap1935 / @coolmaybelateruniverse / @sandyddt / @inkeducatednnerdy / @ravendor28 / @thisisjeany / @overitall2018 / @outofbluecomesgreen / @mollybegger-blog / @bilesxbilinskixlahey / @elemeph / @pointlessblogger99 

[hypmicscenarios]

Help

Summary: You are going to help out at a community event that helps displaced veterans get back on the right track. It sounds simple and safe, however, you chose the wrong day to go and help Riou.

Warning: there is slight kidnapping within here, just incase its a touchy subject for people

request for @wenibo, hope you enjoy! as always, can read on ao3

“Alright, here we go,”you said. You made sure that you had your outfit in check, dressing in green clothing to go with the theme. The two of you were going to help volunteer at a center for Veterans to help get them back on your feet. Your job was to help serve and pass out food while the event was going on.

Besides, you knew Riou was going to be in his army uniform to help. You smiled as you thought about how important this was to him. He really cared about anything that had to do with the army. Although, he didn’t really talk much about it. Its not like you could push him though. You knew he was, at least, in the line of someone’s fire. Of course, you also knew what that did to people. If he wanted to tell you, he would. You knew he would.

To be honest, you had wanted to come help out earlier, but your job kept making that impossible. Finally, though, you had managed to get the day off. Right as you were about to put your army denim jacket on, that you had bought recently to go with your outfit, your phone buzzed on your bed.

Riou: I’ll be arriving in about 5 minutes

y/n: Okay!! Im ready

You waited by the door, checking your phone to pass the time until you heard a knock. smiling, you put your phone in your pocket and opened the door, seeing your lovely boyfriend standing there.

“Hey,” you said.

Riou stepped forward and brought you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, before you pulled away and looked up at him.

He smiled down at you and responded,”Hey y/n, are you ready?” You nodded your head and pulled away,”even dressed for the occasion but you still look better than I do.”

Riou shook his head in disagreement,”no, you’re very beautiful,”he said, raising a hand to place on your cheek,”thank you for putting consideration into you outfit.” Your heart skipped a beat and you let out a shy “thanks…”, only because you knew he would continue with the compliments if you didn’t except it.

Not that you didn’t believe him, you did every time he said it. His words had that much power. Riou really was like some prince that showed up at your doorstep. Sometimes you couldn’t believe he was real or that he chose you out of all people.

Despite your insecurities, Riou always somehow found a way to eradicate all of them. He made you happy.

Riou grabbed your hand and spoke,”let’s go.”

You followed behind Riou, holding his hand. As it was only about 15-20 minutes away, you decided to take the train.

Since it was a Saturday, it was a bit packed, so Riou had one hand on the handle as he held you close by your waist. Your face was up against his chest and you held onto him by wrapping his arms around your waist. This also meant that you were able to smell his scent. It smelled like he had just recently got out of the shower and his army clothes had definitely been washed the same day or the day before because you got a whiff of the laundry detergent.

Every so often on the ride, Riou asked if you were comfortable. You were because he made sure that it was. He held you tight and moved around when people were shuffling in and out so that you wouldn’t be hit by them.

Eventually, you had finally made it to your destination and got off of the train.

“Finallyyy, we’re off. It was too stuffy in there,”you said, stretching out your limbs.

Riou apologized,”sorry, If I would have known it was packed, I wouldn’t have suggested that.”

You smiled and spoke,”noo, its fine. I’m used to it, its Japan, there’s not much we can do about it, I’m fine. So, let’s go to the place,”you finished, holding your hand out for Riou to grab. He did, but he also lifted your hand and kissed the back of it,”yes, lets go.”

Riou led the way again and you tried to calm your heart that was beating again because of his romantic gesture. A small smile came on your face as you picked up the pace so that you weren’t behind him, but right next to him.

“It’s nice that you’re doing all of this. I’m glad that I could finally come,”, you said, looking over at him.

“A lot of people aren’t as lucky as me to be able to get back on their feet. We all deal with trauma differently and, for some, it hinders them to be able to live the way a normal person would. I want to help them as much as possible.”, he said, his eyes showed that his words were genuine and that this cause meant a lot to him. Now, it meant even more because it was so important to Riou.

Soon, the two of you arrived at the place.

You were given a nametag and told to write your name on it.

The whole center was filled with green. Some still choose to wear their uniforms, others were in casual clothing, moving about the place. There was a table set up in a line where the food was being prepared and setup, which was where you were instructed to go. You walked over with Riou and met with the person in charge.

Your job was the rice station and Riou was right next to you giving out the fish.

“Right, this shouldn’t be too hard, Its mid-afternoon too, so I’m sure the lot of them must be hungry,”you say as you placed some gloves and an apron on. Riou did the same. You had seen him with an apron on before, but you still would never get over the fact of how cute he looked in one.

You also noticed that Riou was familiar with a lot of the people there. What you didn’t expect, was to meet some of them, Riou introducing you as his significant other. You were even more flustered when you heard that, apparently, they had heard a lot about you. It made you feel nice though, regardless of your embarrassment, that Riou felt proud to be your boyfriend.

Soon, it came time to serve food. You wanted to try your best even if the task was so simple that a 2nd grader could probably do it. Just greet every veteran with a smile, tell them to enjoy their meal. You happily gave some more rice to those who wanted it too. It was all going smoothly until there was one veteran that gave you a weird feeling.

The next person moved in line and he spoke to you,”Nice face you have there, I’d be jealous of whoever got to have you.” He smiled. It was just a compliment, and you had received a lot that day, but from him it was just….it didn’t seem right. But, you weren’t going to to jump to conclusions, so you smiled and spoke,”thank you, would you like rice today?”

The old man chuckled,”are you on the menu? But yes, some rice please.”

You nervously laughed,”ha...ha..no im not but..here you go...I hope you enjoy,”you said. Riou had gone to tend to something else, so you couldn’t even rely on him to get you out of it.

Thankfully, the guy went away soon and moved onto the next person. You sighed internally before you picked yourself up again to serve the next person.

About an hour later, most of the people had been served. You got talking to some of the other volunteers as you stayed, just in case there was any stragglers.

“So Riou huh? You know, we’ve had our eyes on him for a while, but he never seemed to show any interest, what did you do? How did you two meet?”, many of the women questioned.

You laughed,”haha, I sometimes wonder why me too. I'm just an average citizen who works a regular job. Goes out with my friends when I'm not tired or lays around on the couch catching up shows. But….we met in a clothing store. I was on an hour break from work, So I decided to look around. Since my clothes had a name tag, he assumed I worked there, but I helped him out anyway since I frequent that store quite a lot.”

Riou always told you were beautiful and what not, which still made you feel extremely special. When he first told you he loved you, you never questioned why, because the way he said it didn’t leave you a chance to question it. The way he looked into your eyes, holding your hands, smiling at you, almost like he was about to cry. He meant it. You knew he meant it.

So, no, you never asked for a formal explanation. Riou never gave you a reason to ask for one but, of course, when people ask you like this, you felt like you needed to say more than “he just does.”

Riou finally showed back up, apologizing for keeping you. He asked if the two of you could stay a bit longer to clean up.

You chuckled as you looked at him and patted his arm,”Its fine, if they need muscle, you’re the one to call. I can barely carry my groceries up the stairs.”

Riou softly smiled,”its alright, I have enough for the both of us, so you don’t need to worry about it anymore.

“Go ahead and do your thing,”you said,”I can help out here.”

Riou nodded,”thank you, I need to go speak to someone again. Are you fine? Do you need anything? Im sorry we havent been together as much today I can-”

“No no no,”you said and pushed on his back,”all these people are very friendly, go do what you need to do, I will be fine. This day is for the people here, not so we could spend time together so go.”

“Where do these go?”, you asked the people in charge, holding a box of supplies in your hand.

“In the supply closet hun,”an elder woman said to you, then pointing you towards where it was.

You started to walk there, which was fairly easy since it was right around the corner.

However, when you arrived, you found that it was locked. You bit your lip as you spoke to yourself,”is it supposed to be locked...or am I not at the right one? No, they definitely said just around the corner. Hmm….”, you set the box down and went a bit further down, turning the corner.

There were a couple doors, but this was already way past the corner. You decided to ask just to make sure, but all of a sudden you felt a hand cover your face. It was a man. Your body quickly went into an immediate panic as you tried to furiously struggle in the man’s grasp, but he was way stronger than you. He started to pull you into another door, threw you in there, and shut the door.

You barely managed to break the fall with your hands at you looked up,fear in your eyes as you saw who the man was.

“Y...you!..”,you said as you saw the creepy man from before that you had served. Your heart was almost threatening to come up from your throat and you knew you should have stayed calm in the situation, but you were frightened. Your words got caught up in your throat as the man didn’t say anything and you felt tears threatening your eyes.

Just by the way you were so easily taken, you felt defenseless.

“What….what do you want? I-I have a-”, you were interrupted by the man’s voice.

“A boyfriend? I already know. He’s not here right now though…”, he said, the man digging in his pocket and then pulling out handcuffs.

Well….at least it wasn’t a knife...but what on earth could he want with you? Was he just purely crazy or just got his hands on the first victim he could get.

Seconds later, he also pulled out a knife. Maybe you spoke too soon.

There was no way you were going to go out like this.

You tried to open your mouth to scream, but the man pointed a knife at you, glaring,”yell and that's your throat.”

For now, you did as he said, although all you could think about was Riou, secretly calling him in your head. He should notice that you’re gone though….and look for something to defend yourself with. No….your hands would be immobile.  Stalling is also something one should do in these situations right?

Riou please hurry.

“Have you seen y/n?”, Riou asked, peering around and not seeing your face.

“Oh my...not in the last fifteen minutes at least. They were only supposed to go to the supply closet. There's no way it should have taken them that long,” the elderly woman said.

Riou raised an eyebrow,”thanks, I’ll go check, maybe y/n got lost,”he said, honestly hoping that was the case. He shouldn’t be worried, but he had this bad feeling building up in the pit of his stomach.

“Please be okay…”, he muttered to himself as he checked throughout, even entering the restrooms. He called your phone, but it went straight to voicemail, which was highly unusual. Riou knew you would never disappear on him like that without telling him. Something was definitely up, there was no denying it.

He started his search again, this time, shouting your name out, hands to the side of his mouth to make his voice louder and echo more so that, maybe, you would be able to hear him.

After about 15 minutes, he thought he heard what sounded like a yell. He stopped, honing in his sense, when he heard it more clearly this time. It was his name and it definitely came from a voice he recognized. Riou was mostly calm, hoping he would find you safe, but shouting his name was something that he never thought he should reveal to y/n.

It was his trigger.

From his time in the navy, his name being called outloud like that either meant that one of his mates was seriously injured, in immediate danger, or close to death. So, to hear the person he loved, scream his name in such terror, he felt himself going mad. His once calm eyes grew big, he bit down on his teeth, clenching his fists as tight as he could.

Riou arrived at the door that he figured the sound came from, taking out a knife attached to his leg. He managed to pick lock the door, his breath stopping as he saw you with a knife to your neck.

“I told them to shutup, but look who’s here now. Drop your weapon or its your throat.”, the guy said.

Riou quickly dropped his weapon.

“Y/n….just stay calm...you trust me….right?”, Riou said, his eyes calming down a bit.

The guy spoke,”quit your yapping! Now pick up those handcuffs and put it on you.”

Riou, again, did as he was told. He didn’t have a concrete plan. So, he put them on, then getting on his knees, as per the man demands.

Riou spoke,”there, now let y/n go and take me instead. I dont know what your end game is here, but, please, let them go.”

The man pointed the knife away from your throat to Riou,”you better not try anything funny or-AH”

You knew this was your only chance to retaliate, so you bit down as hard as you could on the hand that was holding your neck against him, then made a run for it to Riou.

You ran to Riou who quickly stood and spoke,”y/n! Get behind me.”,he said as he moved in front of you, moving one leg up, kicking the guy in the stomach and sending him back. Now that the man was a bit of distance away, Riou dislocated and relocated hand like nothing as he got out of the handcuffs. This definitely wasn’t his first time doing that.

He gently moved you off to the side, stomping towards the man who was wobbling, holding his stomach, definitely because Riou kicked it. Riou grabbed the man by the collar, threw his knife to the side, and pulled him against the wall. He was a completely different man now from the one you knew. His eyes looked like they were out for blood.

“What the hell did you do to y/n? You have no right to touch them or even put them in danger or even look at them,”Riou stopped as he punched the man at the side of his face, causing you to flinch a little at the smacking sound.

The man was scared already and was starting to apologize, but Riou continued.

“Scum like you are people who dont deserve. If you ever ever-” he said, emphasizing it by clutching the grip of the man's collar tighter, Riou speaking more as if he was growling under his breath,”lay your filthy hands on y/n again, I will not hesitate to end your life.”

The moment Riou punched him again, which knocked him out, you came to your senses. You quickly pulled your phone out and dialed 911, telling them of the situation. Your eyes stayed focus on Riou as he handcuffed the guy and you finally got off the phone.

You placed your phone in your pocket and stared as Riou walked up. Looking down, you saw how his hands were shaking and he looked at you, eyes filled with regret. You bit your lip before you walked and grabbed his shaking hands, holding them. You moved his hands towards your lips and kissed them,”its okay...im safe...and im not hurt…its okay...”, you said, staring into his blue and worried eyes.

He calmed down a bit after hearing that you weren’t hurt and pulled you into his chest, gently hugging you, his voice fragile and soft.

“I was so scared….something happened to you...I dont know what I would do if…i-im sorry I let you…..see that side of me..”,Riou said, trailing off. You started to rub his back, doing your best to relieve his tension a bit,”its okay Riou...im happy that you came to protect me.”

Riou continued to speak,”when you called my name….it reminded me of the time I was in the war. I just...I want to protect everyone. I thought you could die and there would be nothing I could do to save you because….thats just how it was. I couldnt protect everyone.”

You pushed on Riou’s shoulders so you could see his face clearly. He looked away from you, but you placed your hands on his cheeks as you spoke,”hey...look at me…”, you said and waited for him to do so.

“Riou….you’re not superman. Even if you were...that doesnt mean you fail if you can’t save everyone. You’ve already been my superhero multiple times, not just today. Besides, you knew something was up right? When no one else did. You know stuff about me that other people dont...thats why you were searching and that's why you found me. And I love you for that. I love you so much.” you finished off with a small smile, a lone tear running down your face.

You leaned up and placed your lips on his, softly kissing him.

The kiss helped calm Riou down even more, pushing into it, a hand wrapping around your waist. His hand went up to your cheek, wiping your tear away, continuing to kiss you.

Eventually, he pulled away and looked at you,”I love you….I love you a lot. You mean the world to me. I couldn’t be with anyone but you. It couldnt be anyone but you. When I first met you….there was just something that pulled me to you. Other than your kindness or how pretty you are. There was just some part of me that felt like if I let you go without getting your info I would regret. And Im sure I would,”Riou’s thumb lightly caressed your cheek as he softly smiled,”I dont have any regrets being with you. You make my days much more brighter, more than anyone else, y/n, and I love you.”

Your eyes wavered, starting to feel up with more tears. His words just seemed to strike a cord in your heart and you felt every single note that was played. You grasped at his shirt, leaning up to kiss him once again.

A smile came on your face as you pulled away, dabbing away tears that wanted to come out,”I love you even more Riou,” you said, then hugged him. Riou hugged you back, placing your head on top of his, lightly petting your hair,”I’ll always protect you,” then kissed the top of you head.

[hailene]

𝚁𝚊𝚠  𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚎

𝚁𝚊𝚠 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚎| 05

𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

(𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮– 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘒𝘪𝘥𝘴, 𝘕𝘊𝘛, 𝘉𝘛𝘚, 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘤𝘦, (𝘎)𝘐-𝘋𝘓𝘌, 𝘔𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘰, 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬)

Genre: angst, racing!au, college!au, gang!au, underworld!au

Word count: 5.3K

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

00|  01|  02|  03|  04|  05|  06|  07|  08|  09|  10|  tba

Things were quiet the next few days. It felt like returning to a normal life, no new people to meet, no racers to attend, no accidents to question. However, I couldn't bring myself to talk too much to anybody, it simply didn't feel right. The only person who seemed to have noticed the change in my behavior was Joshua, but he wasn't questioning it at all. As if he knew. Maybe he did.

But of course, things couldn't stay like this forever. It was only the calm before the storm.

The fact that Hoshi was the one to disturb the peace made me shiver. He had been the one to inform us about Seungcheol's crash as well, so basically, it all started with him. What now, was he karma's employee or something?

"The deadline for racing has been set," he speaks as soon as he steps in the living room of Joshua's house.

There were only Yuri, Seungcheol and I. I didn't really know where Joshua was. I wasn't going to question it anyway.

"When is it?" Seungcheol asks as Hoshi plumps himself on the sofa across from where I was standing.

"In three months," Hoshi answers calmly.

"Jeonghan and THE 8 should have been informed in the first place," Seungcheol says looking at Hoshi. "Are you alright though?"

The new-comer looked drained of life, indeed. Strands of his pitch-black hair were covering his forehead and his eyes were closed. He seemed sleepy, but it was weird to think about it like that, since for some reason I imagined him being a really energetic person.

"Yeah, just..." Hoshi heaves himself up from the sofa, leaning forward with a frown painted on his face. "It's not the right time to neglect the racing. Ah, right... Somebody else went missing last night."

Missing?

"Who?" Yuri asks this time.

I turn my head towards them. The two of them were sitting on the floor, my sister was writing something- probably assignments- and Seungcheol was surfing the web on his laptop. They looked so unfazed by the news that I couldn't help but shiver. Is it that usual?

"Chanwoo, if I heard right," Hoshi shrugs. "Bobby looked pretty mad anyway, I think he'll race on Saturday."

Then, he moves his gaze towards me, as if he hasn't noticed my presence until now.

"I saw you last week," he says neutrally. "Let me guess, Jeonghan's idea?"

It takes me a few seconds to realize he was talking about the race. I nod hesitantly. He was speaking as if it had been a bad idea because it had been Jeonghan's.

Well.

"Where is Josh, anyway?" Hoshi asks, standing up.

"Meeting up with Dokyeom," Seungcheol mutters while typing something on his laptop and Hoshi nods as if he understood what that was supposed to mean.

I, of course, had no idea. But I didn't care anymore.

"Alright, I'm heading to Eight's place, then," Hoshi says, standing up and slightly stretching his limbs. "Hey, um... Emma? Am I right?"

I nod, but I feel a wave of rage washing over me. I have such an easy-to-remember name and he...

He remembered it. He just wasn't sure of it.

Calm down.

"Do you wanna tag along?" he asks nonchalantly. "I see these boomers aren't much fun tonight."

My eyes widen at his offer, surprised that out of all people, he was the one to rescue me from this house of boredom tonight. Of course, I wasn't going to decline this. I didn't even care where we were going, as long as I could do something else than watching a shitty TV show.

"Hoshi, we're literally the same age-..."

He waves my sister off and I almost laugh and her disappointed expression.

"You coming?" He asks me and I stand up, slightly stretching my back.

"I'd honestly be down for anything right now," I sigh and Hoshi grins.

"You know Eight doesn't like-..."

"He'll probably be at his third glass of wine by the time we arrive, so he should be pretty cheerful tonight," Hoshi interrupts my sister again, making her throw him a death glare. "Don't worry."

He then turns to me again and smiles.

"Let's go."

Half an hour later, I was carefully watching the street lights passing by from the passenger's seat of Hoshi's car. The interior smelled like coffee, which I didn't necessarily enjoy, but otherwise, the atmosphere of his car was unexpectedly warm.

"I honestly didn't expect Jeonghan to convince Olivia," he speaks at some point.

I turn my head to look at him. His eyes were trained on the road, but his body was not tense. He was an experienced driver, I could tell. Was he a racer, too?

"To let you come to the race, I mean," he adds, seeing that I don't see anything.

"Why is it such a big deal?" I ask and he shrugs.

"It isn't, not for me," he says. "But I guess it will be for you."

I frown. Why does everybody have to confuse me with every single thing they tell me?

I hear Hoshi chuckling and I look at him again.

"Don't overthink this, Liv is just being protective," he says. "A lot of strange people come to the races."

I sigh and focus my attention on the street lights again. I was desperately fighting the urge to ask him something, anything, because I felt like he would be willed to answer me. He didn't seem to be the type to hide things. But nor did Jeonghan. And that time, I was wrong. I don't want to be wrong again.

"How long have you been in America?" he asks out of nowhere and my eyes slightly widen at the change of topic.

"Two years," I answer and he hums.

"Ah... I can't believe we get to know you just now," he sighs.

I look out of the window and realize we were in a parking lot. But other than this, I had absolutely no idea where we were located. Just how blindly could I trust Hoshi, whom I barely even know?

He gets out of the car without saying a word, so I do the same, slightly confused. He locks the car as soon as I shut the porch and gestures me to follow him.

"Is this where THE 8 lives?" I ask looking at the tall buildings around us.

"Oh, but we're not going to visit him tonight," Hoshi says and I feel the blood freezing in my veins.

We're not going...

"Do you really think I need to go to his house tell him about a deadline?" Hoshi chuckles, only making me feel dizzier. "That's what phones were invented for."

"Then where are we going?" I gather my courage to ask

He smiles cockily.

"You'll see."

*

A bowling club was the last place I would have expected Hoshi to take me. However, this did not seem to be a basic bowling place. Green neon lights were the main source of light and the chatter was loud enough to let a lot of things go unnoticed.

I follow Hoshi closely because even though I wasn't so sure I could trust him, he was the only person I could trust at least a bit in this situation. He looked carefree, as if he came here often, which wouldn't have been that hard to believe.

Soon enough, we stop near a row of seats close to the bowling track. All of them were empty except for one, where a short-haired girl was sitting. Despite the fact that the lightning wasn't helping too much, I could tell she had fair hair, or at least something similar.

"Sunny," I hear Hoshi calling and the girl turns her head towards us.

She was pretty. Not necessarily like a beauty queen, but her features were sharp and firm, yet sweet, giving off a really confident vibe. She didn't look startled. As if she knew we would be coming.

She stands up, crossing her arms over her chest. Her attire looked badass too, her crop top and camo trousers stuffed in army boots fitting her body figure perfectly.

"Well well well," she says, her voice reaching my ears even over the loud background noise. "What an honor."

I could tell she was sarcastic, but the grin on her face was genuine enough to make me understand she was simply teasing Hoshi. In a friendly way.

"Back to you," he smiles. "Any fun stuff tonight?"

She shrugs and glances at the bowling track again, where a few boys were laughing at one's failure.

"Not really, it's just Neo and a few insignificant others," she speaks and I feel myself growing more and more confused with every word she was saying.

Then, her gaze falls on me and she smiles. I freeze.

"Kwon, why are you such a jerk?" She scolds the boy before turning towards me. "I'm Soyeon, but everybody calls me Sunny around here."

It feels like everybody has some sort of nickname in this world. But she gave her real name away so easily.

She extends her hand and I take it, shaking it firmly. Her skin was warm. For some reason, I wasn't expecting it.

"Emma," I say.

"How come Hoshi the Great brought a girl to the Neo Zone tonight?" Soyeon asks cocking an eyebrow at Hoshi.

"She was dying of boredom, Liv and Coups are literally no fun these days," Hoshi sighs. "And of course, I thought you'd like to meet her."

She smiles to me again and I could tell it was genuine. She really is pretty though.

"It's nice to meet somebody normal from time to time," she speaks on a softer tone, before frowning. "Hey, weren't you with Joshua at the race?"

"Yeah, I... was," I say hesitantly.

"I knew I'd seen you somewhere," she speaks more to herself.

"Have you seen the open street that night?" Hoshi asks her and she nods, her gaze drifting towards the bowling track.

"Chan was really mad, if it weren't for Eight, Jeonghan could have earned a black eye, at least," she sighs.

Eight? As in THE 8, right?

Is that why he left Mingyu's house that night?

"It would have been worse if he had won the race in the first place," Hoshi speaks and I frown.

Soyeon looks at me and the corner of her mouth lifts in a small smile.

"Do you know what Solar asked for?" Hoshi asks her and she rolls her eyes, looking bothered by his question.

"Come on, we both know Eight's gonna race this week," she speaks. "He hasn't for a really long while and miss boss doesn't like it at all."

She then turns towards us as if remembering something.

"Moreover, it's not like you have a choice," she adds. "Jeonghan can't race this week unless he wants to end up in the hospital by the end of the night and nor can S.Coups, am I right?"

Hoshi simply nods.

Why can't Seungcheol race? He is not hurt anymore, he is not-...

Can he not race? Or is he not allowed to?

"Sunny!"

A voice speaks behind her and she turns her head. There was a caramel haired boy, looking at us confused. Something in the way he looked like made me believe he was younger than me. His eyes were sparkling and Soyeon was looking at him with a glint of something warm in her eyes.

"Who are you?" He asks on a serious tone.

Cute.

Soyeon chuckles.

"They're some friends of mine, don't worry, Hyuck," she explains and he visibly relaxes.

However, I had to admit the threat in his eyes was no joke.

"Taeyong called you to the track," he speaks, stealing glances at me and Hoshi from time to time. "I offered to inform you since bowling is boring."

Soyeon smiles and nods, telling him that she will come in a few. The boy, Hyuck, throws us one last glance before returning to the bowling track, where a couple of other boys were cheering loudly because one of them hit a strike. Soyeon turns to us, the smile still not fading from her face.

"He's saying that just because he lost the first match," she says and I smile, thinking about the sweet boy from earlier. "Anyway, duty calls, I should get going."

"Take care," Hoshi says and she laughs, crossing her arms over her chest again.

"When haven't I?" She says. "It was nice to meet you, Emma, I really hope we can meet again."

I return her smile and nod. Something about her was giving me a really good vibe and to be honest, she wasn't the only one hoping to meet again.

That was definitely not the last time I was going to see Soyeon, but I couldn't have known it back then.

*

There were certainly a lot more people at tonight's race than last week. The place was large enough to let a few dozens more go unnoticed, so the fact that I did notice meant there really were more than just some extra dozens of people.

Tonight, THE 8 was racing. And I honestly had no idea what to expect from the next few hours. So I chose not to expect anything.

It felt like everybody was more excited for tonight. Most of the racers were talking to their supporters full of enthusiasm, making exhaustive hand gestures and laughing loudly. Hoshi was running between the rows, talking energetically to loads of different people. I couldn't spot Yuri, Seungcheol nor Jeonghan. However, to my surprise, I saw Jun and Mingyu for a few seconds before they got lost in the crowd again.

I remember what Joshua told me not too long ago, Hoshi and Jun are trained fighters, and I shiver. I look at the cheerful guy in front of me, trying to comprehend Joshua's words. How could someone like Hoshi physically fight anybody?

"I think it's going to be fun tonight," I hear Vernon speaking beside me and I flinch, waking up from my thoughts.

"Why is that?" I ask and he shrugs.

"That's usually the case when Eight is racing," he simply says and I look at the racetrack again.

To my surprise, Vernon tagged along tonight. I came to find out that he was usually coming here and simply watching the races by himself. That was probably why nobody looked shocked when he jumped in the backseat of Joshua's car. Of course, except me.

"What happened to that 'act like you don't know anybody but Joshua' rule?" I asked Joshua in the car.

"It's still available," he smiled. "Vernon doesn't count."

I scoffed and chose not to talk to any of them until them we got to the racetrack. Joshua looked amused by my behavior but fortunately, he wasn't making any witty remarks about it, unlike...

"I'll have to be out of your sight since once you'll see me you won't be able to stop staring," Jeonghan said and I rolled my eyes, but refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me annoyed.

Now, the race was about to start, since the voice in the speakers called all the contestants to the start. The chatter wasn't so loud anymore, the crowd being filled with the anticipation of the race. Everybody was looking forward to seeing it, I could tell. And that only made me look forward to it, too.

I didn't know what to expect. A part of me was hoping that THE 8 wasn't going to hit the breaks in order to let somebody else win like Jeonghan did. The other part of me didn't really care. There was some sense of pride in seeing that a person whom you knew won. But I barely knew THE 8 so I didn't think I had the right to be proud of him.

It took me a few moments to process what was happening after the word "start" rang in the arena, but as soon as I focused my eyes on the racetrack, I realized the ten cars were already far away from the start. Everybody was cheering, making me slightly frown at the loud noise.

"This should go smoothly," I hear Vernon talking and I look at him for a split second before focusing my gaze on the racetrack again. "There are too many people to pull a scheme."

"Is THE 8 the type who pulls a scheme, too?" I ask almost annoyed at how lightly they were treating the matter.

But then again, it wasn't my business.

"I wasn't talking about him," Vernon says and I blink, confused.

Not him, the other contestants.

I couldn't see Hoshi anymore, which wasn't exactly surprising, considering the amount of people that were here tonight. Still, some feeling of uneasiness took over me. I should have felt safe, since I was sitting between Joshua and Vernon, making me feel like I had personal body guards. But I knew it wasn't that. It was, once again, uncertainty. I had no idea where my sister was, or where either of the boys were, for the matter. I had no idea why everybody seemed to be so excited tonight and above anything else, I didn't know why I didn't know.

"The races worth points," I hear Joshua suddenly speaking.

I turn towards him, but he was facing forward with his signature light smile.

"So you can understand," he continues, turning his head to look at me. "Unless there is a really important occasion, the races held at the weekend worth the most."

I knew there had to be something at stake. But it was ironic how Joshua wanted me to understand just by being told an information that was almost obvious.

At least he told you.

But why?

"Eight is not a threat for them," Joshua adds, turning his head towards the racetrack again. "Not for now."

Soon enough, I hear the roaring engines. I squint my eyes and to my surprise, the first car was the dark-blue one I have put my faith in: THE 8's car. I couldn't imagine the slender boy being so passionate about something like racing. But why wouldn't I be able to imagine him being so skilled at driving a car if he obviously was a great biker, too? He simply was this good.

Therefore, why wasn't he a threat?

The gap between his car and the second one is wide enough to give him the freedom to be relaxed. But his speed doesn't falter. He goes straight for the finish line. The crowd bursts in loud cheers and even Vernon jumps to his feet, clapping enthusiastically. I can't help but smile, watching the hype THE 8 is getting for his success.

Act like you don't know anybody but the two of us, I remember Joshua's words.

He is only smiling faintly. I try to hold back as well.

Almost surprisingly, Jeonghan was waiting for us in the parking lot. Like the last time, we left almost immediately after the race ended. I wasn't questioning it that much anymore. The chaos that was taking over the arena at the end of a race was giving me chills. And a really bad feeling.

The car drive was silent. I could tell Vernon would have wanted to talk about tonight's race, but neither Joshua nor Jeonghan seemed to be in the mood for any of it, so he simply chose not to say anything. I sighed to myself, hoping he would share his thoughts on the race with me later, because after all, he was still the one I knew best out of any of the boys. Or the one I think I know best...

He was my friend, still.

Half an hour later, I find myself watching as Jeonghan and Joshua were preparing some sandwiches and noodles. I wanted to help them, but Jeonghan waved me off, saying that somebody who eats a green apple for breakfast shouldn't be allowed in a kitchen. However, he eventually agreed to let me watch over the boiling noodle pot.

"Why couldn't we simply order some pizza?" I ask.

"Why would we order pizza when we have plenty of food already?" Jeonghan asks while cutting some slices of bread.

I throw him a look that he couldn't see anyway, because his back was facing me. Then, I sigh. He wasn't wrong, but pizza would have been much easier to prepare... and most likely, tastier as well.

"Have you mixed in the spices?" Joshua asks and my eyes widen, realizing I haven't really paid attention to the noodles.

I turn around, looking at the boiling pot in horror.

"Of course she has," I hear Jeonghan saying ironically.

A few moments later, he opens the drawer above my head and places the spices on the countertop. He throws me a fake smile, pushing me to the side, and stirs the noodles with a fork. I frown and pull my sleeves up.

"Let me do it," I say and he shakes his head.

"I really want to eat tonight and that won't be possible if you're gonna burn the hell out of these poor noodles," he hums nonchalantly and I scoff, stretching my hand to reach the spices on his right.

I grab the chili but Jeonghan grabs my wrist before I can take it back. I freeze in spot for a second, not expecting his sudden gesture. His sudden touch.

"Damn, why are you so hard headed?" he hisses and I try to pull my hand out of his grip, but to no avail.

"Because I want to do it by myself, I'm sorry I forgot about the spices," I say carefully, waiting for him to let go.

However, he doesn't.

"You're tired, Emma," he says on a bitter tone and I flinch, hearing him calling my name... like that. "I'll take care of this."

He is not talking just about the noodles.

I pull my hand out of his grip and he suddenly lets go, making me slightly stumble. In the middle of it all, I feel my right hand burning abruptly as if I put it in the flames of hell and I jump backwards, letting out a sharp cry. The sound of metal hitting the boiling pot rings my ears, but the burn on my skin was consuming all of my senses. I hold my right arm, looking at the reddened skin that was already forming little blisters.

"Silly girl," Jeonghan hisses. "Go to the bathroom and hold it under cold water."

I run out of the kitchen before he can finish the sentence and I find myself in the bathroom in no time. The water was cold as ice but it felt useless because my skin wasn't stinging any less. Dammit, how did it even happen? I must have pushed the pot when I pulled my hand out of Jeonghan's grip. Perhaps some boiling water splattered over my skin as well, but it stung so much that I couldn't tell for sure.

"What are you doing? I said cold water, not water from the Antarctic," I hear Jeonghan saying from the doorpost and I flinch in surprise.

He rushes towards me and turns the tap closer to the warm side, making me frown.

"I have just burnt myself, do you really want to melt my flesh off-..."

"Never use ice-cold water for a burn, dammit," he frowns. "Everybody knows that."

I go silent. Well, I didn't know.

Everyday you learn new things.

He bends down and opens the drawer under the sink, pulling out a first aid-kit and a tube filled with something that looked like aloe-Vera gel. He puts them on the counter next to the sink and sighs deeply, glancing at my blistered hand.

"You should stay like that for a couple of minutes to cool it off a bit, then I will..." he speaks and then frowns. "Actually, Joshua is the doctor, he should-..."

"I'll do it myself," I sigh, waving him off.

He wonders around the bathroom for a few moments before leaning against the doorpost with his arms crossed over his chest. He was judging me, I could tell even without looking at him. He was Jeonghan after all and even though he looked and even acted sweet at times, I could not let myself be fooled so easily.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks out of nowhere, surprising me to the point I stop breathing for a second.

"What makes you think that?" I ask, genuinely confused and he hums, stretching his arms before digging them in the pockets of his jeans.

"Maybe the fact that you had this terrible urge not to let me take over something you should have done," he says and I sigh.

"I just don't like to disappoint," I say slowly and try to focus the water running over my skin, ignoring Jeonghan's burning gaze.

"What a relief, I thought it was because you were still bothered by the fact that I didn't answer your questions..."

I throw him a look and he smiles innocently. Go to hell.

"Whatever," I sigh.

"Emma," he smiles and I shiver once again.

Why is he suddenly calling my name so often?

"Why are you so... keen on being against me?" he asks softly and I frown, shaking my head.

"I'm not-..."

"See, you're disagreeing with me again," he smiles.

I look at him, trying to figure if he wanted an actual answer or if he was simply messing with my head. Again. In moments like these, his presence annoyed me the most. Why are you so keen on being against me? What a pathetic question. He knows why.

Suddenly, I hear the entrance door opening and Jeonghan throws me one last glance before leaving the bathroom. I sigh and look at my burnt hand that didn't sting that much anymore. Of course, the blisters were not gone, but it was better than nothing. I should apply the gel now, I guess.

The shuffling that could be heard in the hallway made me realize that tonight, we had many guests over for our late dinner. I wasn't necessarily sure if I liked that. But maybe being in a crowded room was going to help me ignore the way I was feeling.

I could distinguish Mingyu's cheerful voice, above everybody else's, which made me smile unconsciously. As long as he was here too, I had faith that the atmosphere wasn't going to be that stiff. I hear my sister's voice as well and a small wave of relief washes over me. I don't necessarily feel comfortable around her after everything that has happened lately, but she is my sister, the only family that I have right by my side at the moments.

"It's in the bathroom, right?" I hear somebody saying and I frown, turning my head towards the door at the same time as a boy with sharp features enters the bathroom.

He stops in shock as soon as his gaze meets me and I turn off the water tap, sighing. I glance at him again and notice the stain of coffee on this white shirt. I meet his gaze again and smile, figuring he might want to clean it. I open the drawer next to the shower cabin and pull out a box of washing powder, already being familiar enough with Joshua's bathroom to know where to find such things.

"Oh, right, Emma is..." Jeonghan enters the bathroom smiling cockily.

I glare at him and give the washing powder to the new boy, intending to leave the bathroom so he can take care of his shirt in peace. I take the first aid kit and the tube of gel from the counter and smile lightly to the boy. He seemed to be around my age and that made me feel somehow at ease.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't want to-..." he speaks, waking up from his shock.

"It's alright, I'm done anyway," I say and he smiles.

Wow, is the first thing that crosses my mind at the sight of his beautiful smile.

"Hey, is that a burn?" he suddenly asks, pointing to my hand with a glint of concern in his eyes.

"You should wash it for a bit," I hear Jeonghan saying and I look at him, trying, once again, to figure out whether he was being serious or not.

The absence of his mischievous smile makes me put the first aid kit back on the counter and turn on the water tap again. I barely hold back my hisses as the soap touches my burnt skin and rinse it almost immediately. I mentally scold myself once again for being so careless in the kitchen. Sighing, I take the first aid kit and the gel tube and leave the bathroom without saying a word.

I feel Jeonghan following me as I head towards the room I was sharing with my sister. I pass by the living room and see numerous people sitting wherever they could, probably waiting for dinner to be ready. The squad, I think to myself. The first figure that stood out in my fast passing was THE 8's- that might have probably been because of his dark clothes. They made him look like some sort of angel of death. But his smile was so bright that it could make anybody believe he was actually coming from Heaven.

"Are you really going to haunt me forever?" I ask Jeonghan and he chuckles behind me.

"If you tell me it bothers you, I won't believe it," he says and I roll my eyes, entering the room and sitting on the bed.

He stops in the doorstep, crossing his arms over his chest, watching me as I apply the aloe-Vera gel on my burn. I was trying my best to focus, but my mind was constantly drifting away and Jeonghan's stare on me was definitely not helping.

"Why is everybody here tonight?" I find myself asking, in order to break the tense silence. "Oh wait, that might also be one of the questions you're not gonna answer, right?"

Jeonghan chuckles.

"Celebrating Eight's victory," he says. "We haven't had dinner together in a while either, so..."

"Yoon Jeonghan!" I hear somebody yelling and I chuckle, the voice sounding somehow familiar.

Soon enough, Seungkwan appears in front of the room, his hands on his hips, looking at Jeonghan with an annoyed expression.

"How dare you let Joshua prepare the food alone?" He asks, his mouth forming a pout.

Jeonghan sighs, trying to wave him off.

"Taking care of the wannabe-chef," he says and I frown. "Shua can handle it by hims-..."

"Don't even think about it," Seungkwan shakes his head. "You go help Josh, I'm sure the last thing the poor girl wants right now is your witty ass in her sight."

Jeonghan mutters something similar to "I doubt that", but leaves the room anyway. Seungkwan watches him leave and whispers "Rascal".

"I heard you!" Jeonghan shouts, but Seungkwan ignores him and turns his head to look at me.

I was somehow thankful. I didn't hate Jeonghan's presence, but I hated the way it could make me feel sometimes. I give him a smile and he returns the gesture, his hands falling to his sides.

"I didn't want to interrupt, but he can really be a nuisance sometimes," he says. "I figured you didn't need that now."

I nod my head and thank him. He smiles and turns around to leave, but stops as if remembering something.

"Hey, uh... I don't know much about burns, but make sure you cover it with some clean cloth or something so you can prevent rubbing..."

I nod again.

"Thank you, Seungkwan!" I say.

And he returns to his friends.

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

00|  01|  02|  03|  04|  05|  06|  07|  08|  09|  10|  tba

[greeneyedgirls4]

Heart of a Saint. Life of a Sinner.

Summary - Her name was Raven. She had it all. The mind, good looks and sparkling personality. She truly was the Queen of everything.. or so she would let you think.  

Her name was Raven.. and this is the story of how she died.

Chapter - 6/32. Bucky x reader.

Warnings - Just some fluff and Bucky actually showing some caring emotions towards Raven (if you really squint) :) I can’t wait for you all to read the rest!

You can also find me and this story on - AO3 and Fanfiction.net so feel free to leave some feedback wherever suits (I love feedback so honestly go for it!) please and this is my Masterlist. Thanks and enjoy!

“That is what you got from that whole conversation?” I say, pulling out of his grip but once again his hand finds my wrist. “Bucky I don’t want to talk about this right now!”

“Can’t you see I’m trying to help?” He's almost pleading with me and it both warms my heart and breaks it all at once.

I meet his eyes but the tears begin to blur my vision. “They’re alcoholics so they don't actually know what they're saying half the time.” I whisper, leaning against the wall beside us. “They barely realise I’m there and when they do, all they ask me to do is get them drink then they drink themselves into some kind of oblivion until the cycle begins again.”

“Were they always alcoholics?” Bucky asks, his grip loosening around my wrist.

“Dad never was. He has worked his whole life but mum was on and off. Now for some reason after we lost our last house they have both hit it hard.” I sigh when I realise this is my problem and nobody else should suffer because of it. “I shouldn't be telling you all of this.”

I look down at the ground only for Bucky’s hand to gently lift my chin and eyes back up to his handsome face. “It’s better to talk to someone rather than dealing with it on your own.”

“I have Den.”

“Yes but Den is only eight and doesn't fully understand it himself. Raven you're only fourteen yourself for god's sake.” Bucky exclaims and I can hear the worry creeping through in his voice. This only causes me to feel even more embarrassed.

“Please don't tell anyone about this.. the only person I have told is Mary and she doesn't even know this much.”

I hear Bucky sigh as he looks over my shoulder then into my eyes with such intensity that I almost faint. “I’m only agreeing not to report this to anyone because you asked so nicely.. and the fact you have really pretty green eyes.”

The cheeky smile that graces his face causes me to laugh and all of a sudden I'm happy again. He has a way of always keeping me upbeat. “Always the charmer Barnes.” I say, making my way towards the classroom again.

“You know it doll.” He calls out as his long legs struggle to keep up with my own. This was the one thing I did like about myself, my long legs and their ability to get away from pretty much anyone.

When we reach the classroom, I put my hand on the doorknob. “Here we go..”

Opening the door the whole class goes quiet again as me and Bucky take our seats. Bucky begins his apology by being his usual charmer of a self. “Mrs you know we all adore you well I was having a bad day and I apologise.”

The teacher only nods before glancing at me. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn't have got involved.”

“No you shouldn't have. Just ignore people when they are trying to get a rise out of you. Makes you the stronger woman.” Mrs Crawford says before pointing towards the board again and continuing the lesson.

The class finishes quickly and I rush to go and collect Den from his school across the street.. or was today football day?

“Hey Raven.” I hear Mandy say behind me. When I turn she is standing with a few of our closest friends. Mandy is another girl I met during elementary school. Mandy, Shona, Daniel, James, Robert, Carol, me and Mary all went to the same elementary school and had been in the same class until a new girl called Dorothy aka Dot moved in meaning Mandy had to move to a different class. 

Nobody liked Dot and I had heard Bucky had went out on a date with her a while ago which caused me to hate her even more. Why would he even lower himself to a slut like her. It was well known she slept with anything that moved but thankfully, as far as rumours went, Bucky hadn't gone that far with her. A kiss was all she got.

“Hey Mands, what can I do for you?” I say, smiling at the petite blonde twirling a piece of hair in front of me.

“Welllll we are having a party at mine this weekend for James’ birthday and we really want you to come. I know you've been busy with Den but just give us this weekend.. please?” She says, putting her hands together in a praying stance.

“Will all the good looking guys be there?” I whisper, winking when Mandy and the rest of the group nods. “Then count me in! I’ll see you ladies about six.”

“This Saturday. Don’t forget Raves.” Mandy calls out as our friend and now her boyfriend Robert starts to pull her towards their after school club meeting room.

I smile as I watch Mandy struggle against the dark haired Robert. He was the strongest in our group so she wasn't getting out of that grip any time soon.

“So how is your assignment with Bucky going?” Mary says and I can tell by the grin on her face that she knows she completely scared the life out of me with her sudden question.

Walking towards the exit with Mary beside me I shake my head. “It’s.. there. Bucky has just not been helping at all and we were meant to talk about it a few nights ago at th-” I stop when I realise I’ve said too much.

“Wait!” Mary shouts, making me start to shh her. “Don't tell me you were his circus date..”

“It was just a trip because he felt sorry for me. Anyway we didn't talk about it and now I’m way behind because he hasn't been helping.”

I see Mary smirk and I know she's up to something.. or about to be. “I see the way you two look at each other. It’s been clear since the moment you met that you've had some kind of connection and now it’s a clear crush on each other.”

“It is not!”

“You’re in denial Raven.”

Rolling my eyes once again I begin crossing the road. “I am not.”

“You so are! It was only a matter of time before something happened between you’s.” Mary shouts back as she stays on her side of the road and I reach my end. “If it hasn't happened already then I give it a few years until you’re both legal and you two will be fucking like rabbits.”

“Mary! Children present.” I say, nodding towards Den and the rest of his class filtering out of the small school on the corner.

“How do they think parents have children?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Mary!" I call out just as Den hugs my legs and takes my attention away from the blonde walking into her house with a cheeky grin on her face. “How was school?”

“Eh, it was ok. How was your date the other night?” Den replies, a cheeky smile lighting up his face.

I only sigh as I take his hand and lead him towards our house. “How do you know it was a date?”

“I may or may not have heard Bucky’s little sister Rebecca talking to a friend about how Bucky hasn't shut up about you and your date.”

“It could have been any girl she was telling them about. He's gone out with loads.” I say, trying to calm my racing heart. If true then maybe Bucky does like me and is just waiting until the right moment. Or if it’s not true then it all is a game to him. He’s such a good liar sometimes it’s hard to tell.

“He may have gone out with loads of girls but none of them are you sis.”

And with his words my heart feels whole again.

Maybe life is getting better.

Tagging a few friends to spread the word and feedback is always welcome  - @deathbyukmen @ex-bookjunky @fanboyswhereare-you @myplaceofheavenorhell @galacyan-imagine @xllizette @honeybournehippy @sgtbxckybxrnes @wolfpawn @jackierand @cumonbucky @scarlettsage77 @lokisgloriouspurpose9  @archy3001 @redlipstickandplaid  @unicorns-and-fairy-dust @starstruckpastalandbear and anyone else who wants to have a nosy.

So what do you all think? Do they have a tiny little crush on each other? Is Mary right and therefore planning something? ;) Mm it’s only going to get better, I piggy promise!

[cravingmarvel]

Apartment - Chapter Eleven (End)

Sebastian Stan AU

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None I think?

Word Count: 3185

Summary: You just moved from Germany to New York, working as an editor at a newspaper. So what happens when you find out your favourite actor lives in the apartment across from yours? And how will people react when you share your story on your Blog dedicated to him? What will you make of this situation?

A/N: This is the last Chapter of this series! There’s going to be an epilouge and I’m probably going to be writing some drabbles! I’m going to upload a little ‘Thank you’ post in the next few days so keep an eye on that! 

Enjoy!

Tags: (Please be gentle with the criticism I’m still not confident with my writing. Also, you are not obligated to read this, if you don’t want to)

@sgtjbuccky @whyisbuckyso @jurassicbarnes @softlybarnes @spideywhiteys @buckybarneshairpullingkink @buckystan-plums @v-2bucky @buckisthatyou

Masterlist // Sebastian Stan Masterlist

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight // Chapter Nine // Chapter Ten // 

I settled into my new life pretty nicely, the two months since I moved here went by quickly and I was able to reconnect with everyone I left when I packed my bags and took off a few months ago. The uncomfortable thing though were the questions like; why did you come back again? I was never able to give a good answer, always saying that I missed home, which was a big, fat lie. I miss nothing about my old life, but there’s no going back now.

My mother had a lot of questions, she wanted to know everything. Not about me living in NY, but about Sebastian. And it hurt like hell, so much I just wanted to light myself on fire to get away from the conversation.

I sat on my couch eating dinner, being absolutely drained of energy from the day. Life appeared to be more difficult these days and all I want to do is hide in my bed while watching Netflix. But life goes on, with or without you.

With Guardians of the Galaxy in the background playing, while I’m consumed in my thoughts, my head took me back to when I used to live here, before I decided to take the job in the States.

With my head bopping to the song playing I made my way to the bathroom. I took my clothes off and let the water fill up my bathtub. I put a bath bomb in and lit some candles, to set the mood. I was ready to wash off the day and to relax.

I noticed my fingers pruning up and got out, drying my body with the towel I hung on a rack. I jumped slightly as someone knocked on my front door. I couldn’t think of anyone wanting to see me and I still haven’t reconnected with my old friends and I don’t know if I want to. I don’t need to answer more questions about why I left New York and what happened with Sebastian.

I contemplated whether I wanted to open the door or not, pacing I my room. They would knock twice if it was important. As I heard a second knock I quickly put my robe on, sprinting to the door.

I opened it revealing a man I’ve never seen before holding a bunch of pink roses.

“Good evening, miss.” He gave me a wide smile and handed me the flowers. “These are for you and I wish you a good night.”

And with that he went back down the stairs, leaving me with a thousand questions. I went back inside and looked for a card, but there wasn’t one. I put the roses in a vase and placed the on my dinner table.

--

I hurried into the kitchen to get my water, almost knocking everything else over. My bag falling off of my shoulder and onto the ground. I picked it up groaning at my own stupidity. I should’ve woken up earlier or skipped one cup of coffee, no that’s not an option. I should have thought about what I want to wear yesterday, so that I didn’t have to cover my bedroom floor with piles of clothing.

I sprinted to the door, running out and down the stairs. It didn’t bother me before that the elevator is broken, because I’m not too bothered by walking up the stairs. But now I’m cursing at that godforsaken thing for letting me down and making me run even later for work.

I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, stopping right in front of the door to try and catch my breath. I reached my hand out to open the door right as the door swung open and the same delivery guy from yesterday appeared in front of me. He held out a small cardboard box for me to take, but I hesitated before taking it, I still have some questions about yesterday’s delivery.

“Who is sending me these?” I tried to give him my most intimidating look to get him to reveal the name of the anonymous sender.

He just shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, really.”

He was about to walk away, when I followed closely behind him. “I know that you know who’s sending me these and I demand to know who!”

He just laughs and turned around to face me. “Look, I’m just delivering these, maybe you have a secret admirer?” He turned away again, got into his truck and drove away.

I got into my car opening the small package. There was a red box inside and the golden letters that said ‘Cartier’. I lifted the lid and inside was a ring. The band silver and a small, teardrop shaped diamond adorned the ring. I knew I looked ridiculous, but I couldn’t help my mouth falling wide open. I looked around me to tear my eyes away from the diamond ring. Whoever send this, definitely got the wrong person, but there was no way for me to know who I should sent it back to.

I took the ring out to examine it, the quality is astonishing and I could imagine the price of this small object could cover my rent easily. I stumbled upon some letters that have been engraved into the inside of the band that said; I’m still into you.

Reading the words only made me more confused as to why someone would send me a ring with a literal diamond and saying they’re still into me.

My confusion didn’t fade away for the entirety of the day and focussing on work was impossible to achieve with the expensive ring in my purse.

I finally arrived at home, happy to relax and on a mission to find out who has sent the ring to me. I quickly looked into my mailbox and took all my letters with me upstairs, where I threw them on my dining table.

I took of my clothes and slipped into my pyjamas to start my relaxing evening. Walking into the living room, I took my mail with me to the couch to see if I got anything important. A few were normal, adult life letters and some were advertisement. But then one thing caught my eye, a post card. The front picture showed a helicopter view of Central Park and on the bottom stood: Manhattan, NY.

I don’t know why anyone would send me a postcard from there, since I don’t know anyone who lives there. For the whole time I’ve lived in NY, the only person I got close with was Sebastian.

Sebastian.

That’s impossible, why would he send me a card from Manhattan? I turned the card around to see the address and whatever’s written on it. The only thing it said was; when I close my eyes, it’s you in my mind.

I wondered if it was him, but the address isn’t his. It wasn’t even sent from Manhattan, it was sent from Queens.

--

It’s been a week since I got something from my weird ‘anonymous’ Santa Clause and I have to admit, I miss it. Even though the things I got were pretty random and made no sense, I still kind of liked it.

Baking has never been something I’ve been good at. Everything comes out of the oven either burned or just tastes bad.

I danced around slightly to the music playing, spilling the batter I was mixing all over the place. But I didn’t care, I was happy to be dancing freely again, letting the music take over my body completely. I’ve always loved music but with what happened the past months, it was hard to focus on anything else.

I heard a knock on my door and whipped my head around, letting go of the whisk I was holding. I got overly excited about the thought that the delivery guy finally came back after a week without a word. I practically ran to the door stopping myself as I was about to whip the door open, holding the door handle firmly in my hand.

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, hoping it would calm me down a bit. I didn’t want to get my hopes up and be disappointed if it wasn’t him.

I opened the door and behind it stood my now favourite delivery guy, I like him so much I should ask for his name. I tried to hold back a big smile as my hopes weren’t let down and I got excited. He handed me a box and I took it without hesitation.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” He laughed lightly, making fun of my excitement.

“No, what are you talking about?”

“You’re trying not to smile, but it’s so obvious.” I couldn’t hold back anymore and let my face light up.

He was cute, kind of. I mean he’s average looking, but not in a bad way. His brown hair matched his eyes perfectly in colour and he seemed to be at least ten centimetres taller than me. I wondered if he’s my destiny. What if all these deliveries are supposed to bring us together? I knew I would be taking a bold move and probably regret it after I ask, but I had to. “Are you- uh- single?”

He giggled and looked down to the ground. “Uh- yeah I am, why?” He looked up again to meet my eyes and smiled sweetly.

“Maybe we could go out sometimes?” I knew he was shocked by the look on his face and I already regretted opening my mouth.

“But what about your secret admirer?”

“If they’re not revealing themselves, I don’t want to have anything to do with them.” I gave him a reassuring smile and waited for his answer.

“Yeah why not. How about This Saturday?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’m Alex, by the way.” He extended his hand and I took it, shaking it a little.

After exchanging numbers I closed the door suddenly feeling an uncomfortable twist in my stomach. Am I ready for this or did I just make a bid mistake?

I got my scissors out and opened the box. Inside was another box and the contend of that, made me tilt my head to the side in confusion. It’s one of those Funko pops. It was Bucky Barnes in his green uniform.

No matter how confused I was, I still placed it on my shelve, above the TV.

--

Saturday finally arrived and I was ready for my date with Alex. I wore a simple, skin tight, blue dress and black heels. He told me about this restaurant that opened a few weeks ago and wanted to take me there. I still had the same uncomfortable feeling in my stomach and it didn’t seem to fade only getting stronger as the minutes passed.

I heard a knock on the door, assuming it’s Alex, I went back to the mirror checking if I look good or not. I didn’t feel as comfortable as I wish I did, but there’s no getting out of it now. I asked for a date and it would be rude of me to cancel when he’s literally at my door.

Opening the door, I was greeted with Alex in a blue suit and sadly it reminded me of someone else’s suit from a certain wedding.

We exchanged our hellos and he led me to his car. He opened the door of the passenger seat for me and as I sat down on my seat an all too familiar smell of leather hit my nostrils. The car ride wasn’t as fun as with Sebastian. Either Alex doesn’t to listen to music in the car or even worse, doesn’t listen to music at all.

“Can we put some music on?” I turned my head to look at him. He just nodded and turned the radio on. I decided to ask a risqué question, one where it determines whether this would work or not. “Do you like Panic ant the disco?” I bit my lip and waited for his reaction.

He laughed and shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t. I’m not into those emo bands.” He looked at me and from my expression, it was clear I was very offended. “OH- sorry.”

I just turned my head to the other side, looking out of the window.

To say that our date was a total failure would be an understatement. I’ve been on quite a few dates before, I’m not that lonely, but none of them were this stale and plain boring. I’ve never met someone with as little interests as Alex. This dude doesn’t have any hobbies or things he likes, none. I couldn’t even start a conversation about dogs, because guess what? He doesn’t like dogs.

We went our separate ways right at the restaurant, I had no interest in sitting in his car for another minute.

After getting out of my dress and heels, it was time to lounge on my couch to watch every movie in the MCU, except the ones Sebastian is in, those are banned in my apartment.

--

None of my Mondays been ever this bad. First, I spilled coffee all over my outfit this morning so I had to change again. Then my phone decided to die in the middle of the god dammed day and last but not least, to put the cherry on top, my car ran out of gas so I had to walk home for twenty minutes. And now someone’s knocking on my door and I hope it’s not a package.

I opened the door and a delivery guy stood there with a cardboard box in his hand, but it’s not Alex. I started to feel guilty that he changed his rout or even quit his job after out disastrous date. He just handed me the box and left without a word. Maybe word spreads fast in the parcel delivering world.

I put the package down on my kitchen table and went at it with my knife. Beneath the bubble wrap laid an item I wasn’t expecting- a Tupperware container. I was confused at first, but then everything seemed to click. All the packages were probably from the only person I wasn’t expecting to get them from

Sebastian.

But why would he sent me those? Last time I checked, he hated me and made that very clear by kicking me out of his apartment and never talking to me again.

The thought wouldn’t leave my mind and I couldn’t stop tossing and turning in my bed.

--

I didn’t get another package for a week and I was growing impatient. If Sebastian really was the one who send me the gifts, he would make it clear sooner or later. But the impatience was eating me alive from the inside out. I started to rush home after work to see if I got another clue. I wanted to stay home so I wouldn’t miss it, but I never did because there weren’t any deliveries.

I sat in my bed watching Netflix to distract myself, but my mind was still running a marathon. I wondered what the next package would be and if he would finally say it’s him. But what if it’s not Sebastian who did that? What if I’m just getting my hopes up, only to be let down? What if someone’s playing a prank on me?

I jumped up as I heard a knock on my door almost falling off my bed, possibly breaking my neck. But I didn’t care as long as I’m still able to get the door. I sprinted down my hallway slipping on the tiled floor. My hands reached the door as another knock echoes through the apartment. I opened the door and froze on the spot.

“Sebastian?”

“Last one, I promise.” He held out a cactus, but not just any cactus, the one I gave to my neighbour when I left.

I was both happy but also confused as to why he’s here.

“So it was you who send me all those things.”

He laughed quietly and looked down to the floor. Oh how I missed his laugh.

I stepped away from the door to signal him that he can come inside. He slowly walked into my apartment and looked around. He suddenly walked over to my shelf where I had placed the items he sent me. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. Sebastian lifted the plant to put it on the shelf next to the other items. I sat on my couch and waited for him to join me before talking.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I should’ve never let you go.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I thought it would be better for us not to say anything, but I realized that I miss you. God I miss you so much.” I saw tears forming in his eyes and I could no longer hold mine back.

“I know, I thought the same thing, that’s why I left.” I wiped away the tears that started to fall down my cheeks. He suddenly pulled me into a hug that lasted so long, it slowly placed the pieces of my broke heart together.

I pulled back to wipe my nose with the sleeve of my sweater. “But what about the post card, it was send from Queens.”

He kissed my cheek softly, the contact igniting a fire in my heart, slowly welding the seams of my heart together. “I send it in the name of my friend.”

“And what about the ring. I mean- you’re not proposing, are you?” I placed my hand on my chest and knitted my eyebrows together.

“No-“ he took my hand away from my chest and started to draw tiny circles on my palm. “It’s a promise ring. To promise you that I will never let you leave my side ever again.”

“Not even when I have to pee?” We laughed through our tears. He took his other hand and place it on the back of my head, pulling me closer until our foreheads touched.

“Move in with me.”

I pulled back a bit, shocked at what he had just asked me. To be honest, I didn’t even need to make up my mind. I wanted to leave Germany as fast as I could and I wouldn’t just move back to my favourite place, I would also move in with the man I love.

“I would love to.”

He pulled me closer by my waist, sitting me on his lap. He gently placed his hand on my cheek stroking my skin with his thumb, making me smile. I moved my face closer to his, taking in his scent that I’ve missed so much. His lips brushed against mine and finally after all those months, I felt his lips gently move against mine. I forgot how perfectly they moved with mine.

Finally, my heart was reassembled, completely complete.

And I couldn’t wait to move into my new apartment, with the love of my life.

Apartment Taglist: @funkenniffler @ghostbusterkevin @anxietyrosee @nikolett3 @rex-orange-baby @mightiestheroes @letsbestupidforever 

Permanent Taglist: (OPEN) @fuckthatfeeling @funkenniffler @void-imaginations @dewy-biitch @7kindsofpurgatory

[edsbrak]

sixteen weeks (chapter 4)

pairing: reddie chapters: 4/? rating: explicit tags: college AU, FWB

read on Ao3

Summary: Eddie and Richie are roommates in college, and after the events of one drunken confession they both agree it wouldn’t hurt to start casually hooking-up. Things go about as well as expected.

warnings: nsfw content

a/n: sorry for the long wait guys! holidays and whatnot, but i hope you enjoy this one, the plot thickens oooo

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

*

In the weeks following since their helping-hand-sex-agreement, Eddie was actually feeling pretty good about where things were going. Maybe it had something to do with the factor of he and Richie not being close that allowed them both to feel as cavalier as one can about suddenly bedding your roommate several times a week. Therapeutic, some might say, because you weren’t necessarily obligated to get to know this person as you share these intimate moments with them.

That’s not to say Eddie had made a stance on keeping their lives separate; that idea seemed to be becoming harder to ignore as the days passed, but to no real shock.

Mostly everything Eddie had observed about Richie’s habits and personality traits in the beginning of the school year still remained true. He did seem to hang around their room a bit more now, though – perhaps after having someone’s dick in your mouth any previous hesitancy went out the window. But Eddie still had trouble reading him from time to time.

He had also hung out with Richie’s friends several more times since their gig that night. Eddie liked to watch them all bounce topics off each other, to see how well they all blended so fluidly and how welcoming they were to have Eddie join them. It was nice, and most often Eddie would wonder how it took him this long to actually find decent people to hang out with.

Richie was quite different around his friends, and more specifically, with each of them individually.

Around Stan, he seemed to enjoy spouting any nonsense that came to mind, but it was clear he held Stan’s opinion higher than the others. Stan seemed to laugh the most around him.

With Bev, he grew louder. She seemed to challenge him socially and politically. Occasionally they would drag the others into their heated discussions as well, and Eddie could see the amount of respect he held for her in the smiles Richie would try to conceal.

And Ben’s Richie appeared mostly the same, only with an ease of familiarity, like two friends finding each other again and again in each new lifetime.

So Eddie pushed himself to join in, throwing around opinions and titbits and instantly welcoming the pleasant rush of people actually caring about what he contributed to the table. There was no special treatment to atone his new-kid status in the group. He’d just slipped in, like it was nothing.

“Hey, Eddie, you hang out with anyone else here at school?” Bev had asked one afternoon in the library. They’d started meeting up for study sessions together now that finals were coming up.

Eddie had shrugged. “No. My best friends went to another college, so.”

“That sucks,” Bev had smiled sadly and tilted her head. She never said things like oh, I’m sorry or I know how you feel, and it was strangely refreshing to Eddie. “Well, hey, you should invite them out with us one night. We’d love to meet them.”

Stan, who was sitting with them also, had given Eddie a small nod from behind the extraordinarily large book he had in front of his face.

Eddie had made a surprised noise, but took the offer in stride. Typically, trying to blend friend groups together was impossible, but for some bizarre reason Eddie felt as if this time it might actually work. And even if it didn’t, he would be gone from this school in a year, anyway, and none of this would matter.

It was now Saturday again, and Eddie had work in two hours. All morning he wondered if anything with Richie was going to happen today, finally landing on a no, but then the guy had walked into their room as he whistled aimlessly, his drum sticks in his back pocket and a Redbull in hand.

“Well, if it isn’t Jeff Porcaro reincarnate,” Eddie says lazily from where he sat on his bed.

Richie quirks his brows and chugs the rest of his drink. Eddie watches the movement of his throat. “What are you up to?”

Eddie looks down at his lap. “I really should be studying, but I’m watching Parks and Rec instead,” he pushes the nagging guilt down with a stick until it eventually wins over, so he shuts his laptop with a sigh.

“So, nothing important then?” Richie asks.

Eddie squints at him. “I’m curious to know what you think is important,” he says, thinking about Richie’s non-existent study life.

“Saving the polar bears,” Richie clicks his tongue as he begins removing his shirt. “Bees. The postal system.”

Eddie bites his lip. “Sure, reasonable. Anything else?”

“Dicking-down ‘n dirty,” Richie shimmies off his pants unceremoniously. He looks down at himself when he’s done. “Yep, my dick definitely has importance.”

“You think very highly of yourself,” Eddie muses, following Richie’s dark happy trail until it disappears below the waistband of his boxers.

Richie shrugs. “Someone has too.”

“So, you’ve got a package for me, then?”

“That was bad,” Richie tells him, but his tone is clearly proud.

“Fine,” Eddie fakes disinterest and picks up a book near him and starts reading at a random part. “I guess I won’t sign for it.”

“Ah, see now…” and then the book is being lifted out of his fingers and Eddie’s face is now dangerously close to Richie’s crotch, so he angles up to find Richie’s gaze. “When I said that was bad, what I really meant was you’re a comedic genius and also signing the package is required by law.”

“That’s so not true.”

“Whatever, I don’t get lawyer stuff,” Richie says flippantly, and then he’s leaning down to place each hand behind Eddie’s head along the wall. Eddie smiles coyly, gesturing expectantly for Richie to act first.

“Eds, c’mon, you gotta meet me halfway,” he practically whines.

Eddie sighs dramatically. “Fine, you insatiable horndog.” It had been a great night when he’d discovered how fun it was to tease Richie with the metaphorical carrot.

So he grips his hands in the curls at the back of Richie’s neck and hauls him down for a deep kiss. Richie fumbles along the wall briefly before he finds his balance, and soon he’s tugging at the clothes still on Eddie’s body, like they were personally offending him. Eddie swallows down his laughter and pushes himself up, their lips still attached as he shrugs off the first layer with some difficulty.

Richie helps by undoing the buttons of Eddie’s jeans, and Eddie jerks slightly when Richie’s hand dips into his underwear.

“Fuck, dude, your hand is freezing,” Eddie scolds and slaps his hand away.

“Sorry, Redbull can,” Richie offers before he makes an effort to warm them up.

As he does, Eddie’s chest is now bare and he hops down from the bed to strip completely. It strikes him sometimes how easy this all has been since that first day. Sure, Eddie has his off days, not quite feeling the mood or liking how he looks – he’s only human. But Richie always seems to understand. He’s never pushy, and seems to read the vibes Eddie puts out quite well.

The hands are now back and circle around his waist, and there’s no temperature shock this time, and soon Eddie finds himself relaxing back onto Richie’s chest. It had the capacity to appear as a sweet moment, maybe, if Richie’s dick wasn’t currently fitting in the cleft of Eddie’s ass as he whispers “Time to put the mail in its slot,” into Eddie’s ear.

“Dude, the ear,” Eddie grouses. “Also, really?”

“Eh, seemed fitting,” Richie laughs. “In more ways than one.”

“No.”

Richie laughs again. As much as Eddie hates his stupid as shit voices, his laugh is actually quite nice. They move over to the bed, and this time Richie lays down on his back while Eddie settles nicely on top of him. Eddie likes this position, for reasons previously stated in the beginning, but it has its bonuses when he gets to stare Richie down into sexually charged silence.

They end up going slow for a while. Eddie remembers how he’d said foreplay was a hit and miss for him, and as it turned out, Richie was a surprising hit. Something about his touch, the care he must put into for his partners sparked something in Eddie he was glad to greet.

Eddie keeps up a rhythm as he grinds their dicks together. It was a nice build up, but never enough to come close. Richie was growing restless, trying to speed things up by manoeuvring Eddie around faster with his hands.

“C’mon, I’m gonna die of old age here,” Richie groans pitifully.

“Oh, so when you stall that’s okay? You can only dish it out?” Eddie badgers him.

“Okay, fine,” Richie huffs. “But that’s only when I—” Eddie silences him with his tongue, shoving it so far in Richie’s mouth he can lick the roof. He snaps his hips forward roughly, relishing the choked sound from Richie that gets stuck between their lips. Just as Eddie is about to give Richie exactly what he wants, his phone beeps on the table next to them.

He pulls back and eyes it for a moment. Richie’s hands grip at Eddie’s thighs desperately as he groans again.

“I feel like God is punishing me somehow…”

Eddie ignores him and stretches out to pick it up. It’s work, and they want him in an hour earlier. Eddie hates to say no to more money. He throws Richie a sheepish look once he’s done typing.

“We’re gonna have to speed things up, shift got changed,” Eddie says.

“That I can do,” Richie challenges, or at least, it sounds challenging. He flips them, so Eddie is lying on his side with Richie lined up along his back, chest sticky with sweat. Eddie had planned to shower after work, but he might have to have one before, instead.

“I’m not sure we have much time…” Eddie starts.

“I’m pretty worked up, don’t worry,” Richie assures him, reaching over to grab the bottle of lube out of his bedside drawer. Richie nips along Eddie’s back as he slicks himself up.

Eddie’s about to say he hasn’t prepped, but then Richie is murmuring “Squeeze your legs really tight.”

Eddie does, and catches on quick. Richie lines up and fucks between his thighs as he works hurriedly with Eddie’s own foreskin. Eddie’s only ever done this once before, and it wasn’t exactly a success, but Richie has enough determination for the both of them. It works Eddie up, has him panting wetly into the pillow in minutes, and Richie bites into the junctures of Eddie’s back. Nails dig into Eddie’s skin, and Eddie reaches back blindly to grip Richie’s hair. Richie begins to rut faster and Eddie feels hot all over from the force of it, the slick sound of Richie slapping against him doing wonders.

“A-ahh, fuck—”

His release catches him off guard this time. Richie pumps him through it, still going himself, and Eddie tries to centre his energy into squeezing impossibly tighter around Richie. Finally his roommate follows, grunting lowly and hips spasming, and Eddie slowly drops his hand as he waits for his breathing to calm down.

“Customer feedback means a lot to us,” Richie rasps, and Eddie can feel his grin pressing into his skin like a carving. “Our promise to deliver packages on time is what we aim to achieve. We hope you’ll use our service again in the future.” Eddie full on hates him.

“Shut. Up.”

*

Eddie had ended up taking a shower after their little impromptu round of fun.

He’d then rushed out of their dorm building with a half-eaten muesli bar in his mouth, forever thankful he didn’t have to take public transport to get to his work. He speeds walks the few blocks there and circles the building to walk in the back way instead. He throws his loose items in an available locker before tying off an apron at his back.

He spots his manager first who tells him to take orders at the register. Eddie holds back his scowl. He both hates it when his manager works the floor with them and when he has to type in all of the ridiculous ways people can think of when it comes to ordering coffee.

There’s already a line waiting for him when he walks over, so Eddie plasters on his best greeting face and calls the next customer over.

The small café was packed out, so Eddie could understand why they needed him to come in sooner. Although, he also blames how hopeless his management were at planning out decent rosters for everyone.

Greta was busy pumping out coffees to his left. She was arguably their best at it. Eddie likes to steer clear of her whenever she got into her ‘zone’.

Eddie steps out from behind the counter when there was a break to clear away the empty mugs on the tables. There were mostly people his age occupying seats, in groups or alone. At one table sat a guy by himself, books open in front of him and glass empty, so Eddie walks over to collect it. Typically, Eddie prefers to avoid attention and just go about his job, but with a slip on the floor he unwillingly catches the eye of the – admittedly – attractive guy with striking green eyes.

“Thank you,” he says with a smile.

Eddie fumbles momentarily. He clears his throat once. “No worries.”

He’s still smiling and Eddie is still staring awkwardly, and then a distraction presents itself when a customer approaches the register.

When he has their order done with and passes it along to Greta, Eddie looks up to see Bev step inside the café. Her hair is done up in a high bun, and Eddie watches as she wipes her combat boots on the mat by the door. She walks over immediately after, and a grin stretches out her lips when she spies Eddie.

“Eddie, hey!” she says once she’s close enough. Luckily there’s no line now, so Eddie doesn’t have to push her along in a rush. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah, hey,” Eddie smiles kindly. “Just here weekends, mostly. Gotta pay these loans somehow.”

“I hear ya,” Bev nods as she grabs her purse. “Man, I just love the caramel lattes here. But now’s the only time I can get them.”

“Really, why?” Eddie frowns. He presses some buttons randomly when his manager eyes him off for slacking.

“I get so hyped up on coffee. I try to only have it around finals,” she laughs whimsically. “Kinda like a reward, I guess.”

“Smart…” Eddie hums, and punches in her order. He also adds an extra free pump of caramel for her. “Did you want something else?”

“No, no,” she says, holding up a hand. “If I come back for more I’ll need you to escort me off the premises.”

Eddie gives her a look. She laughs again. “I’m kidding. No, but really. Don’t let me have more than one.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, eyeing her warily. He’s sure she’s kidding. Almost.

Bev steps off to the side as she waits for her order to be made, and Eddie busies himself for a moment with restocking the sugars and napkins at the milk station. He’s only been here for an hour and already he wants to finish up. Of course he had to pick a job in a 24 hour café. Bev takes a sip of her coffee when it’s done and makes an appreciative noise before whipping out her phone. Eddie makes to go back to his post, but is stopped short when a throat clears behind him.

“Uh, hi again.”

Eddie turns to see the same guy from before. He was even taller than Eddie pictured he was; broad shouldered, arms almost as big as Eddie’s head. There was a scar than ran from his ear down underneath his shirt. Normally not Eddie’s type, but somehow it works?

“Hi. Sorry, did you need help with something?” Eddie asks, basic protocol.

“Um, maybe?” It was striking to see a guy of this size sound so nervous. “I was just wondering – and I hope it’s not too forward… but, would you be interested in maybe… going out sometime?”

Eddie blinks rapidly. He’s sure Bev has lowered her phone and is now not-so-subtly listening in. This had quite honestly been the last thing he was expecting to hear. What was happening?

“Oh,” he says, his hand gripping tighter on the sugar bag. Eddie tries to recall the last time he was asked out like this. “That’s… really nice of you to ask. Um…”

The guy’s look turns a touch disappointed. “Ah, I’m sorry. You’re not…?”

“Oh, no, I—” Eddie waits a second for his nerves to settle. “I am. I… sorry, I was just caught off guard for a second there.” He smiles encouragingly.

“Okay,” the guy chuckles lightly, relieved, before extending a hand. “I’m Jacob.”

Eddie watches his hand almost disappear in the strangers own. “Eddie.” When the touch lingers, Eddie hears Bev cough loudly off to the side, so he pulls back hastily. “Right, so… yes. To answer your question.”

Jacob practically beams. His eyes crinkle up, and Eddie is endeared. “That’s great. Really. Um, okay, so. How about tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, that works with me,” Eddie smiles.

“Alright,” Jacob nods several times. “How about we meet here. At eight? We can find some other place to eat.”

“Sounds nice.” Eddie hopes this isn’t all some elaborate punk’d situation.

“Cool, well,” Jacob says and backs away slowly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah,” Eddie bites his lip. “Bye. For now.”

Jacob grins and turns to leave, but not before giving Eddie one last look as the door closes behind him. All at once Bev is sliding up next to him to sling an arm around his shoulders. Eddie is aware he should be working, but, fuck, he really couldn’t care less right now.

“Damn, he was a looker,” Bev whistles unabashedly. Eddie is instantly reminded of Richie.

“I didn’t think stuff like that still happened,” Eddie says honestly.

“Really?” Bev looks at him. “You’re a catch, Eddie. I don’t blame him for not resisting.”

Eddie tingles from the compliment. Suddenly Greta is yelling at Eddie in the most professional way possible to get him back to work. Funny, Greta should really take over as manager.

“I have to get back,” Eddie says. Bev pats his shoulder and steps away to leave like Jacob had.

“Sure, sure. I might see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, remembering the looming mountain of paperwork that is finals week.

“Thanks for this!” she jingles her coffee by the door, and then she too is gone.

Eddie stands still for a moment longer, mind processing. A bone chilling voice finds him eventually.

“Eddie, I swear if you don’t move that little ass of yours I’m gonna wear it like a hat.”

Eddie moves his little ass immediately.

*

It had been along shift, so Eddie was glad to finally return to his room to fall face down on his bed. But he thinks of Jacob and his delighted smile, and figures it was worth it.

Stan is in their room when he walks in. He’s the one actually doing homework while Richie appears to be talking his ear off about something as he lies on his bed throwing a ball in the air.

“Hey,” Eddie says through a yawn.

“Hey Eddie,” Stan waves. Richie bounces the ball off Eddie’s arm in greeting. “I’ll finish up soon so you can sleep.”

Eddie waves Stan off. “Nah, it’s fine. I think I can sleep through anything right now.”

“Ah Eds, doing the lords work by giving the people what they want,” Richie pauses his rambling to say.

“What do they want?”

“That sweet, sweet cocaine. I mean – caffeine.”

Eddie snorts. He leaves to go and brush his teeth down the hall, and when he comes back, Richie has fallen into discussion of what would be considered the perfect superpower to have. Eddie wonders if Stan is capable of writing out his work and listening to Richie simultaneously, or if he’s simply just ignoring his friend entirely. It’s hard to tell.

Eddie settles into bed, and as he’s considering putting in his earphones, Stan turns to him.

“Eddie, we’re seeing a movie tomorrow night. Wanna come?”

Eddie hums tiredly and closes his eyes. “Can’t. Got a date, actually.”

“Oh?”

Eddie isn’t sure if that was Stan or Richie, his mind is too tired to differentiate the two.

“Well, well. Look at ol’ Eds getting some.” That was definitely Richie. Eddie peaks open an eye to see Richie now sitting up in bed, and he gives Eddie a seductive wink. “So, who asked who?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Eddie tries to put energy into glaring. “But he did. Seemed nice.”

“Oh, I bet,” Richie brings his hand up to make a blowjob gesture. Eddie scowls.

“Alright then,” Stan, apparently not bothering to catch any of their exchange, says with a shrug. “I hope you have a good time.”

Eddie hopes so too.

He ends up falling asleep to the sounds of Richie describing, in perfect detail, the death scene of Tony Montana, to which Stan eventually began hitting Richie repeatedly with his book.

*

*

Tag list!: <3 (lemme know if u wanna be added!) xx

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[goodlucktai]

luck be on my side tonight

@promnisweek day 6; dancing

story tag / ao3

x

“Are you free this Saturday?” Prompto asks, loud, and with such determination that Ignis is momentarily taken aback.

He straightens the official reports in his hands idly, buying himself a moment to think. He hasn’t had a free Saturday in what feels like years, something Prompto should be intimately aware of after how long they’ve been friends, but Ignis has a good idea what this might be about.

“I certainly could be,” he says smoothly, giving nothing away. “Why do you ask?”

Prompto’s posture is ramrod straight, shoulders back, hands curled into fists at his sides. It’s as if he’s keeping himself rooted to the spot out of sheer force of will and with one wrong move all his daring would flee the room.

There’s very tightly controlled panic in his bright eyes but his voice is measured when he says, “My neighborhood is throwing a block party. Remember, you helped me get a permit for it?”

“Ah, yes. That sounds like quite the event.”

“I want you to come with me,” Prompto blurts, almost cutting him off. “Just the two of us.” He goes bright red, visibly backtracking. “Because! Noctis and Gladio are busy! And I wanted to thank you for how much you’ve helped me with my Crownsguard training!”

So Ignis resigns himself to shuffling his schedule around, and working very long nights for the rest of the week.

“What did you say?” Noctis demands less than an hour later, looking two seconds from springing across Ignis’ desk and shaking the answer out of him. “Prom asked you, right? Did you say yes?”

“I suppose it’s a waste of my breath remind you at this point that my romantic affairs are none of your business,” Ignis says dryly, “so I’ll spare myself and humor you: yes, I said yes.”

Noctis slumps back, looking some complicated combination of exhausted and exhilarated. “So,” he hazards, “it’s official, then?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Ignis does, in fact, know what he means. “Prompto invited me to his neighborhood block party, as a friend, to thank me for my advice since he joined our ranks.”

He taps a stack of papers together decisively and sets them to one side.

After a long moment Noctis says, quietly and with feeling, “Oh my gods.”

Prompto has a tight grip on Ignis’ hand, so not to lose him in the crowd.

Ignis has frequented this side of town more recently in the past five years than he ever did in his youth, but only to pick Prompto up at home, or drop him off, or, more recently, to spend the evening in his kitchen cooking dinners with him. He’s known it not to be a very nice neighborhood, has worried late into the night about crime rates and Prompto’s broken window locks more than once.

He’s never seen it look like this.

There are lights strung up overhead, beginning to glow in the red-orange dusk sponged across the evening sky, and dozens of kiosks, and a temporary stage built at the end of the street. That must be where the music is coming from, a pleasant mixture of strings and guitar and a low, heavy bass, loud enough that Ignis can feel it in his bones.

There are people dancing, drinking, singing. Children chase each other with light-up toys and painted faces. Food vendors pass kabobs and meat pies on paper plates to eager hands.

Prompto only lets go of his hand to pass him a drink, or a sweet, or to lift the camera hanging around his neck and snap a picture. It feels as though they’re very pointedly dancing around the idea now, and Ignis can’t think of any other reason to keep the charade going.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” Ignis says, very gently, “but this rather feels like a date.”

Prompto goes abruptly still, his fingers frozen where they’re still tangled with Ignis’ own. He darts a look at Ignis’ face, as if to gauge what else he might have meant by that, as if to make sure there’s no way he heard wrong.

Ignis gazes at him with all the fondness he feels. They’re standing still but his heart is jumping. He’s as breathless as if they’ve spent the evening dancing.

He sees it when bravery wins over cultivated doubt, when Prompto takes a breath and lets it go, gathers up all his hope in both hands and holds tight to it.

“It kind of was one,” he says with a ghost of his usual good humor. He smiles, a tentative, crooked thing, and it’s devastating. Ignis has never loved anyone like this. “I probably should have mentioned that in the first place, huh?”

“Why didn’t you?”

Prompto ducks his head. There isn’t enough courage in the world, it would seem, for him to look Ignis in the eye now. His grip on Ignis’ hand is tight enough to bruise, and he swallows like it hurts.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t say yes to this,” he says with terrible caution, “if you knew it was ‘cause I was in love with you. I was gonna see how it went, and maybe work up the nerve -- unless it was a total trainwreck, which it kind of seems like it is now -- I’m really sorry, Iggy -- “

Ignis takes a step in that closes the short distance between them.

Prompto’s eyes are wide and endless as Ignis frames his face in both hands, and tilts his head back, and kisses him. And kisses him, and kisses him, under hundreds of bright string lights.  

One second stretches into two, into an hour, into the rest of his life. The world is a portrait in soft focus, its edges fuzzy and colors blending.

It only becomes solid when Prompto leans into his hands and throws himself into the kiss the way a fish spared the hook will throw itself back into the sea. A moment long in the making, and it doesn’t disappoint.

Far from it.

“Oh,” Prompto says at last, thoroughly flustered. He looks seconds away from burying his face in his hands. Ignis hums, and presses his lips against Prompto’s hairline, and smiles when the boy stutters sweetly. “I-- that was-- so you-- “

“I enjoyed our date immensely,” Ignis says solemnly, his voice warm with good humor, “and would go so far as to say it was one of the best I’ve ever had.”

Prompto is leaning in again, strung along by him, the way he always is. There’s wonder in his eyes, and mountains of relief, and such ridiculous affection that Ignis couldn’t have missed it even if he went blind.  

“Only one of the best?” Prompto says, sounding very much like himself.

“Well, you haven’t asked me to dance yet,” Ignis points out. He wants to laugh at the rapid brightening of Prompto’s face -- the way he so easily outshines the rest of the whole party all around them in his delight -- and instead puts out a hand. “After that, I should think, it will have been absolutely perfect.”