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tobesobri · 4 years ago

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When the Lights Go Out (Halloween fic; 8k)

𝖆/𝖓: first off, happy Halloween yall! This is my second favorite holiday and so I really wanted to get something up in celebration of it! I’ve talked a lot on here about having trouble with writing recently and so I do what I normally do with writer’s block and I just leave what I’m stuck on and go off to write something random, which is what this ended up being. So, my writing style is definitely different and maybe not great, but this is just for fun so I don’t care! I still hope you enjoy! There’s spookiness (not too much), enemies (frenemies) to lovers, pumpkin carving, smut, alcohol consumption, and giant skeletons 💀 (oh and Harry dressed as Tarzan 🥵)

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𝕸ost people’s Halloween traditions weren’t too complicated; usually involving cult-favorite scary movies—ranging from Halloweentown to Nightmare on Elm Street—handing out Snickers and Kit-Kats to tiny trick-or-treaters, or just getting wasted at a friend’s haunted house party down the street. Their friend group, on the other hand, opted for a pumpkin carving contest every year on Halloween at Jason Hallow’s house, and, yes, his favorite holiday is Halloween because of his last name. And so, a few years ago when they were all undergrads together, he began hosting the annual carving contest at his house, in which they all paired up and, at the end of the night, whichever pair’s pumpkin came out the best—as judged by Jason, the resident Jack O’ Lantern expert—won whatever candy was leftover. That and marathons of R-rated horror flicks as well as occasional breaks to go out in the neighborhood and scare some of the kids while dressed in terrifying monster masks and slightly drunk off their asses from too much Tennessee whiskey.

Jason’s house was, hands down, the place to be in their neighborhood. Everyone who came by always wanted to join in on their festivities, and one year, they’d been just drunk enough to let a few of-age neighbors join in. This year, though, it was different. The stakes were higher. They were competing not only for the candy, but also for the much envied twelve-foot tall skeleton Jason had found at Home Depot which currently sat in his front yard amongst his other outrageous decorations. The skeleton was definitely the most noteworthy and had been the center of plenty group photos from just about every one of his neighbors since he had brought it home and especially tonight. In fact, every time the doorbell rang and he greeted another group of kids in his gory doctor costume—because Jason was in med school after all—every one of them squealed about how much they liked his skeleton. And so it almost pained him to have to give it to one of his friends after tonight, but if he’s being honest, he has nowhere to store it—he’d purchased it completely on a whim—and next year they will compete for it all over again anyway.

Tonight is also different because Harry and Y/N are not getting along. They all knew this beforehand, but simply brushed it off until they realized it was much worse than anyone had imagined. They had a horrible friendship—if one could even call it that—ever since they’d met as freshmen pre-law students six years ago. Sometimes they got along, but mostly, they bickered non-stop at each other, which all their friends took as misguided flirting. They got along for about six months once, after a drunken hookup, until, of course, Y/N hooked up with someone else and set off the volcano that was their relationship all over again. It had been calm recently with both of them needing each other’s help through their vigorous law school studies. So, a truce had been made and they tolerated each other at best. Tonight, though, the monsters had truly been unleashed and neither one of them had stopped picking at each other since they’d arrived.

It began on the street, when Harry took the spot Y/N had wanted to park in. Then at the door, when he asked her how her midterms were going and she felt like stepping on his toes until she crushed them. Which was perfectly logical since his was barefoot and mostly naked in his stupid Tarzan costume he’d recycled about four times now since they’d all known each other. He only wore it when the weather was warm, as he claimed, but they all had a suspicion he wore it so that he could watch Y/N drooling over him all night.

She wasn’t innocent either, in his defense, at least not this year when she came dressed in a sexy Beetlejuice costume, something none of them ever thought was possible. But she made it happen. She wore a too-short black and white vertical striped t-shirt dress—which had rips in all the right places, particularly across her chest—and a pair of neon green boots that were Doc Marten knock-offs she had found online. Other than that, she had spray painted the front bits of her hair a grey-green color and did her makeup to match the theme, dark purple smokey eyes and a green color used as contour. It looked good, she looked good, not that Harry would ever say that out loud.

Jason’s entire living room and dining room floors were covered with plastic tarps. He’d set up the usual fold-away tables and chairs for everyone. It was an easy clean-up job that wouldn’t leave pumpkin guts smudged into his hardwood floors or, even worse, the beige carpet in his living room. And, as always, he had a line up of various pumpkins on his kitchen counter—and the necessary kit of carving tools—ready to go. They usually didn’t start until nine-thirty or ten, once everyone arrived and had a few drinks in them and they had all agreed on what movies to watch. This year was a marathon of The Conjuring franchise, because Jason had spent way too much money on a box set and he would not be wasting them. Nobody objected anyway because the movies held a sentimental value to all of them. Every year since the beginning when a new movie came out, they all managed to go see it together, and also cause a horrible ruckus in the theater. Although they’d almost been kicked out a couple times, it was still some of the best memories together they’d ever had.

There was also that one year, when Annabelle Creation came out and Y/N and Harry were getting along on account of the LSATs, that they’d secretly gone home together. And then, of course, pretended it never happened.

That had been the second time they slept together, the second time she’d woken in his bed, with Harry’s annoyingly toned arm wrapped all the way around her, and the last as well because Harry got into a serious relationship their first year of law school and that had been the end of things.

Well… not completely the end. At least not until tonight.

“Okay we’re getting started!” Jason announced over both the music and the television, which someone turned down before Jason continued. He stood, wobbling, on one of the foldable chairs, for no other reason than the bottle of vodka in his hand. He was teetering on the edge sobriety and really didn’t give a fuck if he fell off. “Y’all know the drill! Isa’s handing out the cards. No whining. No trading. Or you’ll be disqualified.”

The cards in question were riddles that they had to match up with the answer. Half of them got the riddle card, the other half an answer card and that would determine who their partner was.

Y/N both wanted Harry as her partner and detested the idea at the same time. She was all for it because, well, he was hot dressed in nothing but his small piece of brown loincloth fabric hanging loosely on his hips. But at the same time, she knew they wouldn’t win together and she really wanted that skeleton.

The riddles were all hand-made by Jason on his computer and then laminated in his girlfriend’s school’s teacher lounge however many years ago. They all knew every answer to every riddle by now, but it was still a much more fun way to pair up than picking names out of a hat.

Y/N read her riddle twice, having absolutely no recollection of the answer to it, however—which was probably due to the alcohol she’d consumed herself within the past hour. She wasn’t all to blame, though, Harry had a lot to do with it too. She was still mad at him, for what she wasn’t sure, but she also could not stop herself from stealing glances at him and the only way to stop feeling so many confusing things about Harry was to drown it all away.

She read her riddle one last time: The person who built it sold it. The person who bought it never used it. The person who used it never saw it. What is it?

Her brain felt like mush after the third read and she hoped someone would find her first and give her the answer. She peeked around at people’s cards as they all tried to find their pair, some of them meeting up immediately and getting the prime pick of the pumpkins. It had dwindled down to just a few of them and she finally waltzed herself up to Harry, grabbed his card from his hand without his permission and read it.

In bold, 16-point Helvetica font, it read: A coffin.

Of course.

She rolled her eyes, shoving his card against his stupid bare chest and groaning audibly. “Figures I’m stuck with you.”

When she finally looked up at him, though, she wasn’t all that upset about her odds as she pretended to be. Not with the way his face set into a devilish, wicked, up-to-no-good look that made her want to rip him from the room and rip his useless Tarzan costume off too while she was at it.

He had also been drinking, which was made even more clear when he opened his mouth. “You’ll always be stuck with me.” And then he leaned in a little bit, his smirk widening and his eyes darkening and the sweet smell of vodka on his tongue strengthening, “Forever.”

She hated the buzzing in her stomach he caused, and hated that she liked knowing they probably would, at the very least, know each other for the rest of their lives. It had already been six years since they met and she still hadn’t managed to shake him off. And now they were finishing up law school together and getting offers to work at the same firm together. There would be no escaping him, not that she really wanted to.

The only time she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him was when he had a girlfriend. She hated seeing him in her classes, in her study groups, her circles, at her internship. He was always there, though, rubbing it in her face as she had once done to him. Hers was just a dumb hookup, partially just to spite him, and his was… well he dated the girl for entire year before they broke up and he seemed genuinely heartbroken over it. It had been serious, and Y/N had been seriously miserable the entire time. Even more so when she found out they’d split up and she just about threw a party while Harry moped around campus. She couldn’t help it, though, she’d liked him ever since they met, but then they just sort of… didn’t get along all the time.

She knew he liked her too, at least a little bit, or he’d never have slept with her twice. How much he actually liked her though was still up for debate, and so she chose keeping their weird hate-love relationship over ruining all of it by admitting her feelings for him. Plus, she liked working with him and getting his help on exams and papers too much to ruin that as well.

Y/N grabbed the third to last pumpkin, an unopened carving kit, and led the way to two lonesome chairs. They sat closest to the door, and farthest from the dining room and Jason, in their own little corner where they had enough room to stretch out given that no else had laid any claim on the other side of their table yet.

“So,” Harry began once they were settled and Y/N began opening the kit of tools, “what are we making?”

Before giving him an answer, she laid out all the tools on the table in front of them, next to their poor misshapen pumpkin, and then reached down into the side of her boot and pulled out a black sharpie; she’d learned a couple years back to start brining one. It might have been cheating, sketching her design beforehand, but Jason never outlawed it.

“I’m making Jason’s favorite Tim Burton character and you’re in charge of the guts.” She dictated confidently, slapping the sawing tool and the large orange plastic spoon in front of him so he could get started right away.

He eyed the tools for a moment, then the pumpkin, and then finally her. “Absolutely not. I’m not doing all the shit work while you do the fun stuff.”

“Thought you’d be used to that.” She half-mumbled, but he still heard her over the rest of the noise in the house. And, frankly, she was right. When they had interned together last year, she always handed off the demeaning tasks to him, like getting the coffee or making copies, while she did the much more interesting parts of the job. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t make him do anything. He always did it so she didn’t have to.

He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, arms that her eyes—which were completely out of her control at that point—glued to immediately. He’d been working out ever since the break up and finally filled out the Tarzan costume a lot better. He’d always had a nice body, she knew that, but now… now he made her dizzy.

“I’m not doing it. Least not all by myself.”

She gave up then, mostly because she lost her will to argue against the pout of his lips and the flexing of his biceps—which weren’t ridiculously big, but they were subtle and modest and very much bigger than they had been this time last year when he’d dressed up as a shirtless baseball player. Most all of Harry’s costumes involved some level of nakedness and not much sense, but she didn’t complain too loudly. And his arms were definitely bigger now than they had been the last time she was in his bed and he was over her.

“Fine.” She groaned, grabbing the mini saw tool and then standing to begin carving a hole at the top of their pumpkin, around the stem. She made it big enough for them to be able to stick their hands inside, and then once she was finished, pulled the stem piece off and set it aside for later, chopping off some loose bits of pumpkin shreds first.

Despite his earlier protests, he was the first to dig into the pumpkin, standing as well and going hands first into the thing where he pulled out fistfuls and dumped it into a pile on the table. They went back and forth digging out the insides of the pumpkin until finally, Harry grabbed the spoon and really went in. And she didn’t even bother offering to help, and instead stared, again, at his stupid biceps and especially at his hands, which were slick from the pumpkin juice. She shuddered remembering where his hands had once been, and then pulled herself together remembering how long ago it had been and how very little interest he’d shown in picking up where they’d left off pre-girlfriend.

Once the pumpkin was fully gutted, they both sat again, and cleaned their hands off on the paper towels Jason had set up on each table.

She was the first to begin the process, sketching out the design with her sharpie of Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare Before Christmas. She’d carved the character before, but still needed a reference picture on her phone to get all the details right. And Harry watched her the entire time, memorizing her face for the millionth time while she concentrated, and sometimes he stared at her hands, too, hands he also found himself reminiscing over, to the point of needing to cross his legs so it wasn’t made visibly clear what he was thinking about. He was starting to regret recycling the Tarzan costume.

While they all worked, Jason answered the door and handed out candy about once every five minutes. The best part of their tradition wasn’t the pumpkin carving itself, but rather, the atmosphere. They loved the feeling, the adrenaline rush of it all. How messy everything would eventually get, how loud they all were. The anguished shouting when someone messed something up. The sounds of Thriller playing in the background mixed with the loud jump scares from the horror movies played all night long. It was heaven to any lover of Halloween (and they all loved Halloween).

She’d let Harry start the carving of the design, informing him what parts were staying and what parts needed to be cut away, before she ventured into the kitchen to grab them both a drink. On her way back, she paused for a moment, just watching Harry work over in their corner. The sight of him almost made her want to finally admit how she felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he rejected her, at least then she’d know.

But then Zoe plopped down into her empty chair next to Harry and crushed everything back down like an aluminum can being recycled. She tossed back about half of her Smirnoff after Zoe had scooted closer to Harry and grazed her fingertips across his arm—the one he wasn’t using the carve the pumpkin. And at first, he ignored it, but then he set down the tool, pushed his hair back with his clean wrist and offered Zoe one of his annoying little smirks that Y/N always thought he saved just for her. But now, seeing him use it to flirt with Zoe, she felt stupid and betrayed. And stupid again for feeling betrayed.

She had no claim to him. She just had her memories, as inconvenient as they were at times. But that was nothing and it’d been so long that he showed any interest in her, in anybody, that for her to be jealous now was just pure selfishness. As much as she hated Harry sometimes, she still wanted to see him happy again.

Y/N made her way back slowly, eying what others were doing, until finally joining Harry again just as Zoe went back to her own pumpkin.

She was quiet for a moment, sipping on her drink, watching him as he got back to carving, before cleaning her throat as she finally said something, “What did Zoe want?” And she tried not to sound anything other than curious, but the way Harry glanced at her, with a raised brow, she knew she needed to be so much more subtle.

He took the other cup from her that she hadn’t drunk from and replenished his blood alcohol level. “She just asked me what I was doing after this.”

Instead of opening her mouth and being obvious, she just set her drink down and grabbed both the carving tool and the pumpkin from Harry to take over. He’d already done way more work than she had, so it was about time they switched anyway.

He eyed her curiously still, even though he allowed her to continue where he left off as he leaned back in his chair and took a break, downing what was left in his cup as she worked.

“You’re not jealous are you?” He finally asked, after a few moments to let his brain marinate in the alcohol in order to brave that question in the first place.

“No.” It was sharp. A piercing rejection he felt dig its claws deep into his heart. He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but if not, it hurt. More than he was willing to admit, even to himself. He wanted her to be jealous. He always did. That was part of the reason he’d gotten a girlfriend. And of course she was also part of the reason they broke up, if not all of it.

He nodded, “So it wouldn’t bother you if I went home with Zoe?”

He noticed her brief hesitation, when her hand stopped moving and she took in a breath of air, but then she settled again. “Doesn’t bother me what you do, Harry.”

Again, he nodded, still watching her just to get a sense of her reactions. Of course he had no plans on going home with Zoe. He just wanted to know. Where they stood. How Y/N felt about him. Whether she thought about their nights together as often as he did. When they were studying together and she’d shift her hair behind her shoulder and he’d get a whiff of her shampoo and be taken right back to one of those nights, and the nights that came after that when he got lost in that scent on his pillows until it eventually dissipated and left him craving more.

He tried again. One last time. If he still didn’t get the response he was hoping for, then he’d give it up and leave her alone. So, he sat forward, crossing his arms on top of the table, close enough to her now that the buzzing in her stomach reappeared even though she never braved a single glance at him. He was close enough that the smell of his cologne overtook the odor from the pumpkin. Close enough that she felt his breath on the side of her face when he spoke.

“So, I’ve just been imagining the way you’ve been looking at me all night then?” His voice was just above a whisper, and soft, caressing her ears as the sound crept its way inside of her. As it seeped into all the places the alcohol had been, although Harry was always something way more potent than whiskey or tequila. He made her head spin, made her feel everything and nothing at the same time. Made her heart flutter so much at times it hurt.

His words sunk in and all her motions stopped as she froze in place. She stopped carving their pumpkin, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. Staring blankly at their half-finished design until he was wrung out from her system completely. That never really happened, though, because he was staring at her, watching her with those glinting, impatient eyes, waiting for an answer. There wasn’t even the familiar hint of a smirk or a bit of amusement on his face anymore, either, that might have calmed her nerves. Because at least if he seemed to just be messing with her, she could play that game with him, but this was different.

He leaned forward a bit, trying to get her to look at him, to say something, anything, really. He’d be satisfied enough with her lies at this point. But he also knew the absence of an answer alone was all he really needed. He didn’t feel like he was getting ahead of himself, seeing the way her body reacted to him, by assuming that she felt, at least somewhat, the same way he did about her. Because if she’d been the one to ask if she was imagining how he’d been staring at her all night, he wouldn’t deny it.

Just as she opened her mouth, just as she had gathered enough words to form a coherent sentence, the room went dark. Pitch black, actually. The lights all around them flickering off, the television going blank, the music cutting out. And once the startled gasps and dramatic, drunken yelling had subsided, they were left in a ringing silence, so completely opposite to what they had been moments ago that it was painful for their ears to adjust to.

“What the fuck?” They heard Jason’s voice in the darkness and then, finally, a bit of light as he turned his phone’s flashlight on.

“Did the power go out everywhere?” Someone else asked.

And while everyone panicked, all Harry cared and thought about was Y/N’s hand wrapped tightly around his own on his lap. He wasn’t exactly sure when she’d grabbed for him, but once he realized she was there, he didn’t really care too much about the lights anymore. What he did care about still, however, was whether she’d ever answer his question now. If he’d ever get to hear what she was about to say just before the darkness cut her off.

A few of them stumbled about, making plans to go outside and check on things while everyone else stayed inside and waited. The room went dark for a few more moments as Jason left, but then someone else turned their flashlight on, and shined them at the ceiling so that there was at least enough light so that they didn’t have to sit in complete darkness.

If it wasn’t Halloween, the power going out wouldn’t have bothered her so much. Outages happened happened all the time. But now, in the middle of the second Annabelle movie with all sorts of other spooky shit around them, she couldn’t help but be terrified and imagine the worst. Like… what if there was a killer on the loose who had cut their power. What if the killer was chopping up Jason and the others and then eventually heading inside to do the same to all of them?

“Hey,” Harry mumbled beside her, inching closer and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, realizing she’d grown tense when her grip on him had tightened. “You alright?”

Hearing his voice again, she let out a breath of air and tried to relax. She watched way too many scary movies and this was most definitely not one of them. Just a power outage, possibly due to everyone being home and using lots of extra electricity on their lights and decorations. She had no reason to panic. Although it could be blamed on Harry as well, if he hadn’t made her an astronomical amount of nervous just before.

She nodded until she realized Harry couldn’t even see her very well. “I’m fine.” She finally affirmed, and, to his dismay, took her hand away from his.

They sat in their own silence for a while, listening to the quiet conversations around them, particularly to Zoe and Julie who were trying to look up any information they could even though their phones were slow from the lack of Wi-Fi and service.

After a little while, she found his hand again in the dark, and this time, she wasn’t afraid from the power going out, but rather what she was about to say. Because if there was ever an opportunity to spill your guts to Harry Styles, it was in a dark room where his grassy green eyes weren’t all over you, sucking every ounce of courage from your bones.

Her voice was in a whisper, and she finally looked at him, or rather in his direction. To the outlines of his face, of his nose and his cheekbones. Even though she couldn’t find the green, she knew he was there, waiting, listening.

“You haven’t been imagining anything.”

She couldn’t quite see it, but his eyebrows had hit the ceiling and before he could question her further, she continued.

“I was miserable when you were seeing Liv and so fucking happy when you broke up.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t let that stop her, “And then miserable again because you didn’t want me. And maybe you still don’t, but it would really bother me if you went home with someone else.”

The quiet almost ate her alive for the next few seconds when he said nothing and she didn’t have his features to go off of. But then, she felt him getting closer until, finally, his lips were at her ear.

“I’ve always wanted you.”

The buzzing was back but this time it was debilitating. Especially when he faced her and cupped his free hand along her jaw. And especially when he tilted her head back slightly to meet his lips, which had pretty good aim given their predicament. She missed the way he felt, she realized, once he was kissing her. Once he had scooted closer and released his hand from her grip on his lap. Once he grabbed up the other side of her face and pulled her closer. And then her hand was left to fend for itself on his thigh, and she, almost unconsciously, drifted her touch closer and closer and closer…

He moaned softly into her mouth when she toyed with the flimsy piece of fabric tied around his waist with her fingertips. And finally, she pulled apart from him, catching her breath before whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we left?”

He shook his head, “Don’t think I care if they did.”

And so they were off. Trying not to draw too much attention to themselves even though she slightly tripped over the leg of the chair and he tried not to giggle too loudly while helping her. His hand fell into hers again as he led the way out of the living room, down the hall and into Jason’s guest room, closing them both off from any light source completely, not that they really cared too much about seeing each other; they just wanted to feel each other again.

And as soon as Harry had closed the door behind her, that’s exactly what they did. As she wrapped her arms around his neck; as he felt his way around her waist, he kissed her like he hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Like he was a dry, cracking desert and she was a vast river flowing through him.

He took brave steps towards the bed blindly, backing her up further into the dark room and managing to not trip over anything when he finally made it to the bed. They’d both, on separate occasions, spent the night in Jason’s guest room before, which helped when maneuvering around in the dark. For instance, Harry knew that Jason kept his secret stash of condoms in the bedside drawer. Harry had no idea why, but he was thankful for it right now, when, after laying her back on the bed, Y/N had already begun undoing his costume—with such quickness, he was sure she’d studied how the thing was connected to his body so that she knew exactly how to get if off if need be—and, within the next few seconds, tossed the flimsy Tarzan loincloth out of sight.

Which left him in just the black thong he wore underneath. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have even bothered with it. But, when he had first gotten the costume and tried it on without anything, he imagined all the wardrobe slips and potential boners might not be in everyone’s best interests. So, he went out and bought the smallest pair of underwear he’d ever owned, tucked himself inside of them, and called it a day.

Those, too, were stripped from his body in a matter of seconds, or at least pushed down his thighs to where they no longer covered what they were intended to cover. But then she flipped them around, so that Harry was on his back this time, splayed across the bed and she was finally ridding him of the thong all together and not wasting any time getting her hands on him and he wondered, with how quick she was to get to this point, if she had been thinking about this all night. And if she had, then he would definitely have to whip out the Tarzan costume more often.

He seemed to sink into the mattress once he felt her mouth close on him, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth hanging open involuntarily when he hit the back of her throat. He had no idea how he’d gone so long without her, or why either. Why had he been so stupid? Why did he let her think he didn’t want her? Why did he deprive the both of them of this? Of the way she felt circling her tongue around the tip of his cock, the way he knew she was looking at him even though he could physically not open his eyes or come down off his cloud long enough to tell her how good she felt. How much he missed it. How much he was probably in love with her, even if that might have been crossing some sort of line.

“Forgot how big you were,” she whispered, giggling almost shamefully after wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and giving him a break to actually breathe properly again.

“Think we both know that’s a lie.” He was out of breath already and he was right, although she wouldn’t feed his ego no matter what he said. Although she remembered his cock perfectly fine, she wasn’t exactly used to it. And maybe she had momentarily forgotten what he had hidden under his costume. It’d been two years since they slept together, and the first time it happened they’d been drunk.

She didn’t say anything else, just tried to hide the blush on her face—even though he couldn’t’ see it anyway—by taking a mouthful of him again. She didn’t let him come, though, of course, and he didn’t expect her to either. She never had before. She always led him get right to the edge, to where he was panting and writhing and digging his fingers into her hair, on the verge of screaming her name into the dark, and then she’d stop. Pull him from the back of her throat and leave him a sopping, moaning mess.

He’d somewhat recovered when she crawled on top of him and and sat on either side of his hips with her hands planted on his chest. And now that their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see the curve of his lips as he smiled up at her and even the sinister little twist of his mouth just before he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress and ripped it off over her head, letting it fall onto the bed next to him. He wished they had just a little bit more light, but at the same time, it turned him on having to see with his hands instead. Having to reach up and cup her breasts in his palms and rely on his memories for a better visual than the one he currently had. And as she came down to kiss him again, there was one thing for sure he didn’t need any light or anything but his fingers to do.

He tossed her bra into the same vicinity as her dress and within seconds had his hands all over her again, and his tongue as well, wishing she was on her back so he could worship her in all the ways he desperately wanted to, but also aware that the power could flick on at any moment and he really didn’t have the time.

Not that she had asked, and maybe she just hadn’t thought of it yet, but he still, while continuing to make out with her, reached over, pulled the drawer open on the nightstand and reached inside to locate the box of condoms.

However, once he did, and he didn’t find what he was looking for, he sat up and pulled apart from her, twisting himself a bit in order to see inside the drawer. His other hand held onto her hips so she didn’t fall off of him as he searched the drawer. But, soon enough, he was laying back again, groaning as if he was in physical pain.

“There’s no condoms.” He muttered between his teeth and just that one little sentence ruined his entire night.

“It’s okay.” She assured, continuing to whisper just as he did so that no one would hear them through the thin walls. “I mean… we’re clean right? And I’m on birth control…”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at her and trying to decide if it was a good idea or not. She was right, of course, but even so there was always a possibility. Even with condoms there was always that same possibility too. He knew one thing for certain. If he remembered correctly. There was absolutely no way in hell he’d be able to pull out, so that really wouldn’t even be an option either.

“If you don’t want to though, that’s fine.” She spoke again amongst his silence. It’s not like he would hate the potential consequences, and of course he would not hate feeling her without a stitch of anything in between them, he just needed to be reassured that’s what she wanted, truly.

“I do, just um… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

She nodded first and then, confidently, “Yes.” As she fell back into place over him, her lips came to his ear this time, “I want to feel you coming inside of me.”

His whole body shuddered, needing her more than he quite possibly ever had. And as she tucked her panties to the side and guided herself onto him, he would most definitely go outside and cut the lines himself if the power decided to come back on before they were finished.

“Forgot how wet you are…” He whispered, heart fluttering at the way she laughed while fucking him. He never forgot either, not quite. But feeling her again now, pooling around him, warm and snug, he again wondered why in the living hell he kept himself from her for so long. Sure, they didn’t like each other most of the time, but their first time together had been hot, drunk hate sex and ever since then he’d chased that feeling with other people, none of them ever quite adding up to her. He wondered if she thought the same. No one ever making her feel the way he did either. If, when she was with someone else, she thought of him instead.

He knew he wouldn’t last long the second she put her greedy hands on him, and so her being in control now was slightly dangerous. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, even if he was racing the clock, even if he could just take her home from here and do it all over again, properly. He didn’t want it to end as quickly as it started.

So, he flipped them back over, getting her on her back like he’d wanted to earlier. Slipping a pillow under her backside to get a better angle and letting her sink all the way through the mattress this time. He remained inside her the entire time, only making quick, shallow movements to avoid the sounds of their skin slapping against each other. But he gave up being careful about their noise level after she begged him to go faster, after he reached between them and rubbed his fingers over her clit to catch her up with him.

She tugged at his hair while he kissed her, breathlessly and without much of a second thought this time about how loud they were being. He assumed all their friends knew about them anyway, even if she chose to be ignorant to it. They all speculated about the secret hookups and the mindless flirting that was disguised as harmless bickering. So, he just stopped caring the closer and closer he got.

That was until he buried himself as far as he could inside of her, his hand wrapped around her throat the way he remembered her liking, and he felt the scream building beneath her skin, beneath his palm. Quickly, before her noises led to everyone barreling into the room to find out what was going on, he clasped his hand from her throat to her mouth instead. Holding tightly as she let it out, his eyes pouring into hers like a lake of shining emerald waters getting her to stay there in the room with him. So that she didn’t close her eyes and float away like he had before.

He titled her head to the side, kissed up her jaw to her ear. “Mm, I missed the way you sound.” He wanted to tell her how he thought about her pleads and her moans and her yells late at night when he was feeling particularly alone. When he wanted nothing but her, to either be inside of her, or to just have her there next to him. But all of that got caught in his throat, and instead, as he continued burying himself into her, he whispered like a growl in her ear, “Missed how well you take me.”

And although it made her moan, made her eyes cross and her fingernails scrape across his shoulder blades, he wanted to tell her that he missed how they fit together. How where he ended she began so seamlessly no one else could hardly compare. There had always been a seam with everyone else, with Liv, a visible divide between him and them, soldered together haphazardly. But with Y/N, it was smooth, flowing together as if they were the same person.

His hand slipped from her mouth as he began losing control, and soon she was the one having to cover the noises. Though, this time, she just simply pulled his lips to her own and felt all the vibrations escape from his throat against her skin, her teeth, her tongue. She breathed in nothing but the air from his lungs, and held onto his tightly as she began to unravel.

His moans quickened and quickened until she felt his release, warm and deep inside of her, just as her own gave way, until his body began to give out, until he was panting and no longer able to hold himself up over her. And so once they both descended from their cloud, once their wave had crashed onto the shore, he planted himself beside her, their chests in rhythm as they cough their breath.

And before either of them even managed to open their eyes or breathe steadily again, the surge of the power coming back on dimmed the haze. Their room was still dark, but light seeped under the door and the rest of their friends cheered from the other room as the music began again. And for a brief, stupid moment, Harry thought about fucking her again and letting her scream all she wanted, but that fantasy was cut short when he remembered their friends would soon realize they were missing.

“We should get back.” She mumbled. Although she made no sudden movements to get up. She even closed her eyes again, still off in another world.

And so Harry risked it, just for a few more moments, anyway, where he rolled closer to her and slid his hand up her jaw softly, pulling her attention toward him again as her eyes fluttered open, waiting.

“I was miserable when I was with Liv too. And we broke up because she knew I spent all my time thinking about someone else.” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, realizing for the first time that he’d probably royally fucked up all her makeup and then hoping she wouldn’t come to her senses and kill him for it.

“And who might that be?”

He smiled, sweetly this time unlike all his asshole smiles, and just as he glanced at her lips, ready to kiss her again, he was cut short.

“Yo, where are Harry and Y/N?” It was Jason, loud and clear and possibly headed their way to investigate his missing party guests who had snuck off together in the dark. Jason didn’t know that yet though, and as much as Harry would like none of their friends to find out, it wouldn’t exactly look great the two of them waltzing out of the guest room together. Harry’s curls in shambles, fresh scratches all across his back, and Y/N’s makeup smudged. There was simply no use in hiding what they’d been up to, it was written all over them.

Harry grabbed her clothes and handed them off while he went on a search for his own tiny pieces of costume. And just as they got decent again, there was a knock on the door.

“You guys in there? You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” Jason warned and Harry and Y/n looked at each other for a moment before busting out laughing.

Harry got to the door first, throwing it open to a very surprised Jason, who then narrowed his eyes when he saw Y/N come up behind Harry.

“God, not in my guest room!” He whined as Harry pushed pass Jason, a looking Y/N following shortly behind, “Now I have to clean the sheets again! I just did them yesterday.”

“Sorry, mate!” Harry called over his shoulder, glancing down at Y/N quickly to give her one of his cocky little winks. And once they had reached the main room again, as he fell back into his chair, she realized just how many scratch marks she’d left on him, and wished he’d worn a costume with a shirt to cover it up.

She drowned out all the whistling and the comments about how everyone knew she and Harry were up to something, about the bets won and lost. All she heard was Harry’s voice in her ear, telling her how much he missed her and she wondered if it was real. If he really did miss her, or he just missed fucking her. If, when it was no longer October 31st, they’d just go back to normal. Like the horse-drawn carriage turning back into a lumpy, ugly pumpkin.

Harry noticed this, of course, because he’s a law student and notices everything, but just as he leaned in to ask if she was okay, she pulled away.

“I just, uh, need some air.” And then she was gone before he could do or say anything. She used through the front door, abandoning their poor pumpkin and headed toward her car. She’d left the keys and her purse inside, but it didn’t matter. She just leaned against the passenger door and gazed up at the stars, thankful for the clear night and warm weather.

And, of course, he was beside her not too long afterwards. She’d heard his footsteps against the pavement, knew he’d probably follow her out anyway.

He cleared his throat, half watching the same stars she was and half glancing at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s um…” she faltered, her eyes falling to her feet. “Think I just had too much to drink.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I—” she cut him off before he got too far in the wrong direction.

“No, I mean…” she pushed off her car then and faced him, “Are we just going to go back to how we always are after tonight? Because I don’t know if I can do that. But I never know what you’re thinking, Harry. Do you even like me or do you just like sleeping with me sometimes and arguing with me all the rest of the time?”

He continued to watch her for a moment, almost waiting for her to tell him she was kidding. But when she just ran a nervous hand through her colored hair, he realized she wasn’t.

He waited for a group of kids all dressed in various Star Wars outfits to pass by them before he began. “I guess I thought I was clear, but obviously not enough… I don’t just want to sleep with you every couple of years and pretend we don’t like each other in between. I think we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you?”

She nodded once his words sunk in.

“Can we go finish our pumpkin now? And win the stupid skeleton. So I can take both it and you home with me?”

Again, she nodded, but this time it was matched with a smile. “Who says I want to go home with you?”

He rolled his eyes and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to kiss the top of her head as he steered them back toward the front door. “Guess it’ll just be me and the skeleton then.”

They both glanced over at the giant thing stuck in the middle of Jason’s front yard, still attracting every young person like it was a princess at Disneyland, and then she looked up at him again. “On second thought, I might like to see that.”

He shook his head, opening the front door for them, “M’sure you would.”

#sorry if there are spelling or grammar errors #im just glad to have written something tbh #but yeah let me know what you think! and i hope you all have a great halloween and that you're staying safe!#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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colormeyondublue · 3 years ago

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Chapter 16: Movie Night

Chapter 15 Here

Your eyes open the next morning, and you find yourself in a daze. Once your vision clears, you sit up straight. You’re in your room. You look around, and you can see sunlight drifting through the blinds in the window. Everything looks normal, but where’s Yondu? Yondu. You begin to panic a little bit. You look down to see a tank top and a pair of your old athletic shorts. No. Is my mind trying to fuck with me? Those three years did happen. I lost everything, but I gained so much. Yondu, where the hell is Yondu. I did not make him up. I did not make up the Ravagers. I was taken. You begin to breathe a little bit heavier. Just then, your door creeps open. It’s your mom.

“Hey sweetie. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Can I get you anything? Where’s your friend? Uh – boyfriend?”

“You mean Yondu?”

“Yes, right. Yondu.”

“Oh thank God! For a moment I thought I had fallen into a coma and the past three years was some insane fever dream. I’m not sure where he went, I just woke up. Bathroom maybe? I’ll go look.”

You make your way down the hall to the bathroom, but don’t see a light on. You push the door open, and see no one. Then you decide that maybe he went downstairs to raid the fridge. You hurry down the stairs and head toward the kitchen when you see a blue figure standing on the back porch. You let out a breath you’ve been holding and smile. I knew I couldn’t have dreamt up someone like him. He’s still wearing the pajamas you gave him last night. A simple white t-shirt and flannel pants. You decide to grab your robe and join him outside.

“’Mornin’ sweetheart.” He says with a big smile. You softly kiss him and look out across the hills behind your house.

“How long have you been out here?” you ask.

“Mmmm… couple hours maybe? Weather sure feels nice, and I wanted to see what your house looked like in the day time. Seen some more critters too.”

“I would be worried if we lived in a neighborhood. Thank the stars we don’t.” You huff out a laugh. I’m gonna head inside and help mom with breakfast, you hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry. Never had terran food b’fore.”

“I promise you’ll like it. I’ve seen you eat some really questionable things on the Eclector – what we eat here shouldn’t be a problem for you.” You say with a hint of sarcasm.

“Sounds good ta me. Lead the way honey.”

You start a pot of coffee and your mom puts the kettle on in case anyone wants tea. You turn on the tv for Yondu, and show him which buttons are important on the remote before you leave him to his own devices. When breakfast is about ready, you return to the living room and are surprised to find Yondu in the armchair watching Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. His eyes are glued to the tv.

Chuckling to yourself, you tell Yondu that breakfast is ready.

“Hey, do you want to come pick some stuff out, or should I make you a plate?” You ask.

Without his eyes moving an inch, he asks you about the movie. Clearly dumbfounded.

“What is this? What am I looking at right now?”

“It’s a movie about Pirates…terran pirates. But it’s totally fictional. I mean, stuff like that did happen a couple hundred years ago, but there are no such things as curses or walking skeleton people.” You laugh.

“I like it. I like it a lot. It almost reminds me of some ‘a the boys back on the ship. This is what ya’ll watch for entertainment?”

“Some people do, yeah. There are all kinds of movies and TV shows. Some are made for entertainment and others are made for education. We can watch more later if you want? The possibilities are endless when it comes to this stuff. You keep watching your movie, Captain, and I’ll go get you a plate.” You nudge his shoulder with your hip when you turn away. Yondu breaks his gaze from the tv just long enough to give your ass a playful smack as you’re heading back to the kitchen, earning himself a squeal and plenty of giggling.

After breakfast, you give Yondu a proper tour of the house. You showed him all of the rooms and all of the places in the house that are special to you. Story upon story comes flowing out, and your brain jumps from memory to memory. He just watches you ramble and it dawn on him that terrans get so attached to things. Things that have both good and bad memories. He wonders if you have these kinds of attachments to the Eclector…or maybe to him? He does his best to ask a question or two, but he prefers to let you get lost in thought. He hasn’t quite seen you this open or vulnerable, but he really likes it. Your planet is beginning to open new windows into who you are.

The afternoon floats by peacefully. After a walk through the woods and a late lunch you decide to come back inside to relax the evening away. You hop in the shower and then show Yondu how it works when you're done. When you’re both comfortable you head back downstairs and let Yondu look at what movies your mom has. He can’t really read the titles, so he goes off what the cover looks like. You head to the kitchen to make some chocolate-peanut butter popcorn.

“What’s this?” Yondu asks as he picks up a couple pieces.

“It’s really good. We used to make it as kids. Give it a try.”

Your hand flies up to Yondu’s mouth just before he pops a few pieces into his mouth.

“What?” He eyes you suspiciously.

“This has peanuts in it. If you start to feel weird or puffy, TELL ME. Okay?”

“Are peanuts poison or somethin’?!” He exclaims.

“No, no, no…but some terrans are allergic to them. Just wanna play it safe is all.” You chuckle.

“Oh…well alright.” He takes a bite and chews thoughtfully for a moment. “I don’t know what a peanut is, but this stuff is damn good!”

“See?! Told ya.”

Yondu shows you what movie he chose for the night, and you couldn’t be happier with his decision.

You pop the movie into the DVD player and giggle excitedly as you snuggle up with him on the couch. Your mom has already gone to bed, and you have the living room to yourselves.

“Honestly, I cannot believe you picked Star Wars, but I could not be more thrilled with your choice. I hope you like it. You already know, humans don’t know much about life outside our solar system. As far as my people are concerned, no one else is out there. So, that being said, we sort of came up with some of our own ideas as to what could be out there. This is totally fictional, so don’t get upset if none of this is as accurate as you would like it to be. Because it won’t be.” You say with a smile.

As the movie begins, Yondu seems to be paying very close attention. He loves the music, and doesn’t mind the dialogue too much.

“The clothes ain’t bad…but I sure as hell wouldn’t wear that travelin’. Come ta think of it, I wouldn’t wear that at all!”

You giggle at each of his comments, and enjoy yourself through the movie more than you thought you would.

“So – lemme get this straight. Them ‘Jedi’ of sorts are supposed ta be able ta move things with their minds?” He asks.

“Yes, it’s called the force. There’s more to it than that, but yes. The Jedi live by a certain code, like Ravagers do. They are trained by other Jedi masters to use the force for good and their weapon of choice is the light saber. See? Luke has a blue one.”

“Hmm…I do like this Hans Solo guy. He’s got the right idea on how ta handle things.”

After a few more comments on Yoda looking weird, Chewy resembling somebody he beat up in a bar once, the Death Star being a stupid engineering idea, and how horrible those blasters are, the movie ends.

“Hey, it’s pretty late. I think I’m gonna head to bed. Want to come with?” You ask.

“Yeah, sure honey. I’m gonna step out and give Krags a call and I’ll meet ya upstairs.” He kisses your forehead and squeezes your butt as you head upstairs.

"Would you leave my ass alone?!" You laugh.

"Can't do it sugar, can't do it." Yondu flashes you a devilish smile as you disappear from sight.

He quietly steps out the back sliding door to make his call. Krags picks up almost instantly. “Yessir, howsit goin’ down on Terra?”

“Not too bad. Learnin’ a lot, her momma seems ta like me…I think. As far as I know we plan on staying a couple weeks as long as nothin’ changes on either end. How is everything goin’ with you?”

“Had a little disagreement among the men on some M-ship maintenance, but it wasn’t nothin’ I couldn’t get sorted. Keepin’ an eye on radar too. Wanna make sure them terrans don’t pick up nothin’ from us. The last thing we need is Nova Prime breathin’ down our necks.” Kraglin sighs.

“Yeah…yer right. Ain’t given them much thought lately. Thanks fer keepin’ everything together Krags.”

“No problem, sir. Let me know if there is anything else I can do fer ya.”

“Will do.”

With that, the comm cuts out.

#Yondu and The Secretary #Yondu Udonta #yondu x reader #marvel #gotg #gotgfanfic #ravager #Terra #Earth #movienight

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simpz-art-stash · 3 years ago

Text

Late beginnings

Summary: Mac goes out for a drink, and happens upon some advice he takes into consideration about his skewered relationship with Wukong. Before finally taking some action to mend the long burnt bridge. (Author’s note: I barely did any beta reading for this so if it’s worded strangely that’s just how I write without the normal filter on. I’m country so HOWDY) Next Page ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night was late, but he didn’t care, he might as well have been nocturnal with the way his whole life revolved around the whole stereotype of shadows and shit. He’d walked into a bar he’d passed through a few times before, donning his human disguise of course beforehand, and walked in without sparing anyone else a glance. Before planting his rear in one of the stools seated at the front bar, ordering a drink to get the night started. “I’m really looking forward to seeing that new Monkey King movie with the trailer they just released. You saw it too right?? The whole style of the film is on par with their most recent game- OH, you think they’re gonna make a game of it?? I bet you they wiiiill!~” Ugh, great, just what he’d come here to avoid.

Mac’s eyes glanced to the blabbermouth boasting about whatever new movie was being made about his ex, to see two girls residing a ways down near the other end of the bar a few seats away from him. Both looking to have had a fair night themselves already if any of the cups and plates hanging around their spot was anything to go by. “Probably. I hope it’s better than last game that came out on the Brick 360, the bugs in that thing were gross to deal with.” Their friend commented back. Before looking down at their phone and claiming that it was getting late and that they had to go. “Yeah I’ll see ya Monday!” The chick waved their friend off a lazy farewell after they’d paid their bill before going back to their drink, now taking less tedious sips as the mood seemed to smooth out from their conversation prior. “I see someone’s a pretty big fan of that ol’ man.” Macaque piped up from where he sat, earning the attention of the stranger he’d directed his comment towards. “The Monkey King yeah?” Sparks danced in the chick’s eyes at the recognition of the name, before the stranger perked up and beamed a smile back at him, “You betcha! I’m a total nerd for that legend.” ‘A legend, hah.’ “S’the whole reason I moved to China in the first place.” She jabbed a thumb at her chest, “All the way from America!” Mac whistled, “That’s a pretty far leap to take, even for a legend. What, you hopin’ you’ll get the chance to see em’ or somethin’?” He sneered, taking his glass and lazily swirling it in his hand. “I wish!” She laughed, “Nah I mostly just moved here for work. If anything though it’s cuz a them for where I am now. I’d never even heard of him till about five years ago!” Mac blinked, lowering his drink from his lips, “You’re joking…”

“Not at all! No one hardly knows the story back home. Only reason I found out was cuz I just started gettin’ into anything monkey-related as a hobby.” She pointed at him, “Don’t laugh either, it’s a wildly popular standpoint to have these days online.” Mac quirked a brow at that, he’d hardly touched the internet these days save for whenever he needed some quick info on something he couldn’t find elsewhere. He held his hands up, “Hey I ain’t judging…” He smirked a little to betray the look that he totally was though. It was kinda funny how ironic it was him being there right then. She squinted at him, “Anyways...Yeah, I’d seen stuff of him online, but I’d never paid much attention to it up until recently.” “What made you change your mind?” Mac boredly probed, taking a sip. She simply shrugged, “I was in a dark headspace, guy made me laugh.” He paused, “Wait, seriously??” “I mean have you HEARD half the crazy shit he’s done??” ‘Babe I’ve LIVED through half the shit he’s done.’ “Like, literally, the guy is HILARIOUS. My favorite story out of them all being one where he literally tricked THREE taoist immortals into drinking his own piss!!” She burst out laughing while Mac choked on his drink a little, not having expected to hear that of all things. Sure he’d heard a few of the shenanigan’s his peaches had gotten up to throughout his journey to the west but he’d never heard that one before. Nor had he the patience to read through all that mess of context that had been published either. “Ahhh man, it still gets me…” The chick sighed with a few leftover laughs as she wiped a tear from her eye. “What about you? What’s your favorite story?” She asked. And suddenly Mac felt like he’d been put on the spot as he stared back at her. “Come ooon, surely there’s one that’s gotten your gut rolling.” She pried. ‘Plenty, but there ain’t no way in hell I’d tell a soul.’ “Bahh...there ain’t the first one that comes to mind that I’d like. Honestly I’m not even much of a fan.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Whaaat?? Aw come on! There’s tons of cool n’ funny stories!” “Heh..can’t imagine what you find so charming about a guy who’s too good for his own friends.” Mac spitefully twacked himself mentally for spewing something so personal like that out. Ugh, and he hadn’t even finished half his drink yet… The chick sitting to his left seemed to tilt her head a little before she squinted at him. Her silence being what brought his attention from his drink to her as he blinked back with a quirked brow. “What?” “Your eyes, they’re like raging storm clouds.” She pointed out. He blinked, not really sure how to feel about that. The only one who’d ever really pointed that out to him before was… “...So?” “Nothing!...” She shrugged, turning back away towards her own drink as if no conversation at all had happened between them. Whatever...he had his fill of shit to drink to either way. The night might’ve been late but he was just getting started. “He makes me laugh though.” She pointed out, earning her a glance. “All his stories n’ stuff. If there was ever a man I’d want, it’d be one who could always make me laugh.” “Hmph, not one for strength?” He took a long sip. Ignoring the bitterness of others fawning over someone he’d come to love before he’d gotten so popular. “Strength is fine n’ all, but it can only take a relationship so far..you gotta have more pieces to put in that crockpot of a relationship if you wanna make it taste good. Stuff like patience, honesty, a little bit of everything to help it all come together to make it juuuuust right.” “Hm…” “It can’t be all just you putting the stuff in there either, it’s gotta be a contribution from both gardens. Otherwise you’ll just barren your lands and be left with nothing to spare yourself or others in your life with.” She glanced at Mac, “Relationships are tricky like that, but they should always be a 50/50 split~” She winked. That...actually sounded like pretty sound advice. Something he’d heard a little here and there before but never so simply laid out. Though it made sense from his standpoint, fairness n’ all that. But he’d been that way with Wukong before and it had never worked out, all the bickering and such, so what had gone wrong? “Can I...ask you something?” Mac inquired. “Shoot.” “What’re your thoughts on..a relationship that seemed fine, but then the other changed so much that everything about it fell apart?” “Mmm...care to sprinkle in a lil more context?” The chick eyed him. Mac’s face scrunched up a little, no idea why he was asking some random mortal for relationship advice of all things. “Hey man. We’re both probably never gonna meet again after tonight, so if you’ve got skeletons in your closet, your best place to let em’ out is here. Bartenders are known for being the most well kept secret keepers in all the world after all~” She winked at the bartender in question who simply looked the other way with a look that might’ve suggested such a fact as truth. “Hm…” Ah screw it, “Alright alright…” He sighed and put his drink down, “There’s..someone. We used to be real close, we were strong together but then uh..shit got real and he had to go deal with it. But when he came back he uh, wasn’t the same as before, an I might’ve sorta assumed he was cheating on me so…so we kinda fell out.” The chick nodded, “Ahh..the classic misunderstanding of change and cheating, a tale as old as time.” She seemed to hum a moment before she turned from where she was seated, if not to hop down off her stool and plop down on the one right up next to him. “Uh-” “Shhh, lemme see those eyes.” She squinted, leaning in and staring deep into his. It’d would’ve been really unnerving if she hadn’t said anything about them before, now he was a lil put off that he might’ve been asking a witch of all things for advice… “Right. Well, at least you feel bad about it. So there’s that.” He blinked and his brows furrowed, “Wh- of course I feel bad about it, it was his fault-” He suddenly had a finger pressed to his lips. “Nope! Nooononono, you do not get to throw all the blame elsewhere like that sweetheart. There ain’t no way in hell you’re gettin’ a second chance with them if you keep that up.” She pulled her hands back. His face scrunched up and he found himself crossing his arms, if he had his tail out it would’ve been irritably swaying behind him right then at just how annoyed he was getting at this weird lady and her words. “Oh yeah? An what do you think’s best then huh?” “I dunno if you’d be up for that kinda challenge…” She idly fiddled with an imaginative piece of lint off her sleeve, which only seemed to irritate Mac further at the thought of him not being able to handle Wukong of all people. Like sure he’d gotten his ass handed to him before but he could still hold his own! “Try me.” The chick glanced back at him with a smirk, which caught him off guard for a second before he shot her a glare back. “Alright, but it’s definitely not gonna be as quick or easygoing of a recovery as you might hope it’ll be. Nor is there even a chance of you recovering it in the first place. But, you at least got that spark enough to try so who am I to deny?” ‘Hmpt, dam right I got a spark.’

“First of all, no more blaming, if you’re gonna tackle this properly, you gotta do yourselves a favor an quit it with the blame placing. Sure it’s easy, but it ain’t gonna get you nowhere but back to square one. It’s all in the past, the now is now. So push forward to fix it and put it behind you two so you can focus on the more important things.” “Easier said than done…” “Hey man, even if they don’t follow the same ruleset at first you could always work things out to make it one later on. I’m just tellin’ ya right now so you won’t just go diggin’ yourself a deeper hole.” Honestly at this point he was pretty much six feet down under, death to him would’ve been a mercy right then. “Fine…” He rolled his eyes. “Next up, apologizing…” -----------~----------- “I thought I told you to stay off my island.” Mac didn’t really glance back from where he stood high up on one of the breathtaking ledges that which Flower Fruit Mountain bolstered. His arms crossed, eyes sternly held against the leftover warmth of the late afternoon sun as it shifted the skies hues from blue to blood red. Hopefully that would be the only tinge of red the Mountain would see after today. “I know.” “What, no witty remark? Give me one good reason-” “I just wanted to talk.” Mac stated plainly. “Why the hell should I give you the chance?” “...” Mac wasn’t sure if he could come up with a good enough reason after the shitshow he’d caused him the last few centuries, most recent being his spat with him between MK. “I’m sorry.” That seemed to catch the king off guard, as he paused in his vicious glare to stare at the other. “Excuse me??” “I’m.Sorry.” Mac turned finally to Wukong, that look of fiery malice having softened immensely upon meeting their eyes. “I was wrong for what I did and I’m sorry.” Wukong’s face looked like it had had a stroke with how frozen in place it was, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hurting everyone around you just to get back at you, I was wrong for doing that. And I just wanted to apologize.” Mac’s face twisted a little, the words coming out a little rougher than he’d liked, but he’d managed to get three steps in so far… “If you think a few sorry’s are gonna be enough to make up for all that crap then you gotta nother’ thing comin Mac.” Wukong finally shook off the surprise and crossed his arms with a steely gaze. “Nah I know they ain’t worth shit with as long as it's been...which it’s been..a really, really long time come to think of it..nearly 3000 years…” Fucking yikes. “What’s your point?...” Wukong raised a brow at him. “My point is...my point..” What was his point? To make amends and hope they’d get back together? To go back to the way things were? That couldn’t be done with the way things were now. Wukong had a successor, a moral compass, a lotta shit that Mac didn’t. A lotta shit that he wanted but never could figure out how to get his own. His face scrunched up a little and he sighed, “I..just wanted to make things right.” “Oh-hoh? After so long you finally decided to admit you were at fault? Sorry Mac, but it’s waaaay too late for that.” Wukong huffed, “Honestly, this is probably just another one of your stupid tricks if anything. The old Macaque would never throw himself down like that.” “Well maybe I’ve changed!” Mac exclaimed suddenly, his temper flaring a bit as his eyes flashed lightning. “3000 years later? As if…” Wukong rolled his eyes and turned away, “You’ve still got that same look in your eyes you always do whenever we fight. Do me a favor and just keep away from the hot springs this time yeah? The last time you were here you sent a whole dam boulder over there and smashed half the pools.” He waved his hand dismissively. “And I happen to take my once a month bath’s very seriously.” Mac’s nostrils flared a little at just how flamboyant Wukong was acting towards him and his attempt to make amends. How he just saw his attempt as a joke and nothing more, it pissed him off. Wukong had changed and everyone had accepted him, well not everyone, but still, why couldn’t the same be for him? Had he really fooled himself into believing that there was a chance he and Wukong could be together again? His shoulders slumped a little. Of course, who was he kidding. A 3000 year old pit of grudges wasn’t about to just up and disappear at the wave of a white flag. This was Wukong, the same guy who still playfully pestered the gods and demons around him for past conflicts that had happened between them. -----------~----------- “But you can’t just go, ‘ooo I’m so sorry for what I did.’ Nah, you gotta follow the five steps.” The chick claimed. “Yeesh, this a learning course now?” Mac tilted his head to the side. “It is if you wanna make things right.” She claimed matter a factly. “The five steps have never failed me before and have worked wonders for any an all my relationships. Might not quite have the same range of effect you’re going for but it’ll at least be a good start.” “Heh, you got the guts to back up that case?” Mac sneered. “I will if you don’t manage to screw it up.” The chick pointed out. “The five steps go as follows.” - express sorrow (I’m sorry) - own guilt (I was wrong) - name specific wrongs (I did X) - name impact (I hurt you) “And finally...” -----------~----------- “What can I do to prove myself to you?” Macaque asked finally. “What can I do to at least make it to where we can..not fight anymore..and just talk?...” Wukong stood there for a long moment, his features unreadable as their silence was muffled by the wind bellowing between them both from being so high up. “You really are serious about this aren’t you?...” Wukong’s head shifted ever so slightly, but not enough to where Mac could get a reading on his emotions. “I’m tired of fighting and waiting and thinking that if enough time passes things’ll go back to the way they were...when they never will. Trying to hurt you isn’t gonna make the old you come back, no matter how many times you beat me down...It’ll never be the same.” Mac admitted finally. A quiet gust settled down between them, before Wukong seemed to let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. “Can’t believe it took me 3000 years to beat the sense into you.” He turned and looked back at the other, where he no longer held a look of seething hate, but more akin to that of the same tired look just as the one Mac wore. Mac felt a sliver of guilt wriggle its way into one of the cracks of his heart and he glanced away, pulling a hand back and scratching his head. “Yeah well...your kid hit me pretty hard last time, enough to knock it in place.” A small smile crept a little onto his face. “Hm~ He’s gettin’ pretty good at hittin’ stuff with that old stick.” Wukong’s eyes glinted a little at the appeal of how proud he was for MK having taken Mac out the way he did. A little over the top and flashy, just like him.” “He’s got a pretty strong master to thank for that…” Mac found himself yearning a little for that same glint to be reflected on his memory the same way as MK’s. Not that he couldn’t see himself holding the same appeal for MK the way Wukong did, kid was strong, just a lil desperate in some of the cracks that shaped his outline. Something Macaque found that was easy enough to take advantage of, and something Wukong held a blind eye to. “Hm.” Wukong’s reply pushed him out of those thoughts for the moment as they shared a brief look between one another. A glimmer of reconsideration flashing between the two before Wukong finally turned his head away to drink in the sunset before them. “One chance.” Mac felt his heart nearly stop at that answer. “I’ll give you one chance, but if you screw this up, don’t even think about showing your face to me again.” Wukong replied, “I mean it this time…” Mac swallowed a little and nodded. Anything, he’d be willing to do anything to gain back what little trust he could from Wukong. “Good...you can start making up for it by apologizing to MK.” Mac blinked and sputtered a little as Wukong turned away and began to make his way back down the mountain. A smile playing on his lips while Macaque groaned to the heavens about his next trial.

#shadowpeaches #LMK #lego monkie kid #my fics #Sun Wukong #Macaque #AND MEEEEE #BECAUSE I SAID SO #>:3c

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

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When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me (Prologue) // Ashton Irwin

It really cannot be overstated how excited @cal-puddies and I are for you all to finally start reading this fic!! I searched our chat and we actually came up with the skeleton idea for this sequel only TWO DAYS after Remember When We Couldn’t Take The Heat was posted LAST APRIL and we started seriously writing in SEPTEMBER. This is a long time coming. We hope you love it as much as we do and thank you again for encouraging us to continue this story!

Don’t forget we’re alternating chapters so the story continues tomorrow over on Cass’s blog. And of course, you can find links to everything as it’s posted in the masterlist linked below!

Warnings: Tension, both dramatic and sexual. Mild angst. Meddling but well-meaning friends. The first smut-free work Cass and I have ever written together (don’t worry, we more than make up for it the rest of the series lmao)

Word Count: 3455

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Let us know what you think!

The traffic light changes to green and you turn down Luke and Sierra’s street. You roll your eyes at the quickening of your pulse as you think about the party tonight; you’d give anything to skip it but you know Michael and Crystal really want you there and you can’t not show up for them.

You feel your nerves settle a bit as you step out of the car and see Sierra waiting at the door for you, happy to have you over to get ready together. She grins wide and pulls you into a warm hug, Luke quickly coming over to engulf you as well. Their excited greetings overlap as they literally smother you with affection and you can’t help but laugh at the fuss they’re making.

“You always disappear for too long,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

“Just needed some space,” you say with a shrug.

“You broke up with Ash, not us,” Sierra reminds you, squeezing your arm.

“I know, I know,” you nod with a weak smile.

Luke grabs the bag with your dress in it and takes it to their room while you and Sierra get a drink. “Thank god you’re letting me pre-game,” you joke.

“How are you feeling about everything?” She asks as you head back with her.

“Just doin’ my best to be OK,” you admit, without even thinking about Luke overhearing. “It was like… close to an entire year of my life you know? I know it doesn’t seem like much... I just wasn’t ready, you know? And I’m definitely not ready for tonight.”

Sierra sits on the bed, listening as you sit at her vanity, absentmindedly looking over the beauty products on it. “It was such an intense relationship, it makes sense you’re not over it yet, babe,” she points out gently.

“I should be over it, though, it was ridiculous. Our whole relationship was based on a foundation of fighting until we fucked to forget why we fought… it didn’t work, we never really communicated about anything.”

“Well. You already know I’m not a fan of how the breakup went down,” she shakes her head, plugging in the curling iron you’ve been gesturing wildly with. “It’s been a couple months now, you guys still haven’t even texted?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Please, we are the king and queen of Stubborn Town, I haven’t seen or heard from that man since I got the last of my stuff from his place,” you shrug. “I guess it still just feels… unfinished. I hate that.”

“I mean, it feels unfinished because you guys left it that way,” she says matter of factly. “You both decided you were done and then just… were? When you love someone, walking away like that doesn’t work.”

“I never said I loved him,” you glare at her through the mirror.

She settles behind you and starts sectioning off your hair. “Never said you didn’t either,” she teases.

Before you know it, 45 minutes have passed and Luke is at the door warning that he’s about to call the Uber; you’re deep into your girl talk catch-up and the knock on the door causes you both to burst into shrieks and giggles, scurrying around the room to finish getting ready.

Miraculously, you get yourselves together in time and as you stand in front of the house waiting for the car to arrive, Luke nudges you gently. “Ash is coming from a meeting on the other side of town, so you’ve got time to relax, he won’t be there for a while,” he reassures you. “And if you feel like you need to leave, let us know and we’ll come up with a reason to swoop you outta there.”

You put your arms around him and squeeze. “I’ve missed you too,” you say with a smile.

Luke tells you and Sierra how nice you both look as he ushers you inside the party. They both watch you scan the room, relaxing once you see Ashton hasn't arrived and then you all break off, making the rounds.

You greet a few people but end up hanging off to the side, keeping an eye on the door, nervously half-paying attention to anyone who happens to approach you.

You immediately tense when he enters. Luke moves to welcome him while Sierra comes to you, trying to be a silent support; her babysitting goes from feeling comforting to coddling very quickly and you urge her to go back to mingling.

You try not to stare but you can’t help it, you haven’t seen him in so long. Even before you were together, when you hated him, it was hard not to be drawn to him. He just has that kind of presence.

Luke hasn’t left his side since he walked in, chatting away, but you don’t think anything of it. That is, until everyone seems to be finding their place at the various tables and you’re still awkwardly standing to the side. You would typically sit with Luke and Sierra but they’ve made themselves cozy at a table with Ashton and Calum.

You head for the bar and before you can order, someone comes up beside you. You ignore them until you hear the soft “Hey” fall from his lips, in that lush, slightly accented voice you missed more than you’d care to admit.

You turn, fully taking him in for the first time tonight; his hair is different than the last time you saw him and he really seems to be feeling himself in his black pants and the lace button-up you used to make fun of. “Hi,” you respond, so quiet that Ash has to lean in to be sure he heard you.

“Grab your drink and come sit with us,” he says, waving encouragingly.

“Uh… that’s OK. I might leave,” you shrug.

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your ridiculous suggestion. “No you won’t. First of all, I know you came with Luke and Sierra and they’re not leaving. Second of all, you’d never let Crystal and Mike down like that. Just come sit,” he insists, gently tugging on the hem of your dress.

You melt a little inside. This was one of the reasons you liked him so much, he was always so confident that he knew you so well. But it’s also one of the reasons why you fought and he drove you crazy.

“Fine,” you sigh with a slight smile. He waits for you to order your drink, also making you crazy, like he can’t trust you’ll do as you say.

“There you are!” Sierra smiles as you take the seat across the table from her and Luke. Sitting between Calum and Ashton is a spot you were very familiar being in; they’d constantly lean over you to share a joke and then one of them would fill you in afterwards if you were lucky. Your heart breaks a little when you realize that's not likely to happen now.

You make small talk with Cal for a bit; you’ve missed his pinchable cheeks and his sweet laugh. You’d spent plenty of time with him when you were with Ashton but hadn’t really kept in touch since the split. He asks you about work and both he and Ash pay close attention as you chat about your job.

Sierra keeps a close eye on the two of you and notices how quickly you get reacquainted. The way Ash naturally rests his arm on the back of your chair. How when he started getting animated with a story, you knowingly shifted all the drinks over until he was finished. How he won’t let himself laugh at his own joke until he checks to make sure you’re laughing first. The hair toss you subconsciously give whenever he does make you laugh.

Later on, she catches him at the refreshment table serving your favorite dessert onto his plate even though it’s something he notoriously doesn’t like. She walks alongside him as he heads back. “You hate that,” she smirks, pointing at the offending dish.

“Oh. Right,” he says, realizing the old habit he just indulged. “She’ll eat it,” he shrugs, quickening his step to avoid any follow-up questions.

Crystal makes the rounds to thank everyone for coming and stops Sierra with a hug; they chat for a minute but Crystal notices she seems distracted and eventually follows her gaze over to your table. Cal’s deeply invested on his phone, leaving you and Ash chatting by yourselves.

Crystal lightly snorts and leans in to her friend. “What’s old is new again, I guess,” she cups her manicured hand over her mouth to disguise her words. “You think they’ll leave together? I was shocked when she told me they haven’t hooked up even once since they split.”

Sierra shakes her head firmly. “They’re both too stubborn to admit they want even that from each other,” she rolls her eyes. “You should’ve seen how nervous she was to come here tonight.”

“Oh, Ash too,” Crystal whispers. “Ever since we planned this, Michael must’ve gotten at least 5 texts from him casually trying to find out if she was coming.”

Sierra sips her drink, never taking her eyes off your table. “It ended so badly, I can’t get over how comfortable they are with each other… there’s still just so much love there.”

Crystal shrugs. “Well god bless them but think of how long it took them to actually get together,” she points out. “I wouldn’t hold my breath for them to figure out that they called it off too soon.”

You make light conversation with Ashton, trying to ignore the girls’ gabfest you see out of the corner of your eye; they were both supportive but clearly distraught when you told them about the breakup so you know they’ve got to be eating this up.

Calum announces he’s stepping away for a cigarette and you and Ash pick at your plates in silence for a few minutes, suddenly feeling the weight of having to interact without a buffer. Finally, he offers up a quiet, “You’ve been good?”

You answer perhaps a little too quickly, nod perhaps a little too vigorously, eager to mask any implication of hurt feelings. “Yep. Busy. But good.”

He fiddles with the tablecloth. “You know... I meant to call sometime but it never felt right and then things got crazy with the band…”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “I didn’t check in either. Didn’t think you’d answer,” you laugh weakly.

He smiles and you hate how warm you feel at the sight. “Why did I always assume you were a ‘fuck that guy, delete his number as soon as you’re out the door’ kind of ex?”

Your heart sinks and you’re not sure why; it takes you a moment to realize it’s because this is the first time you’ve actually thought of yourself as “his ex.” You steady yourself. “Usually am. Decided to be mature on this one. You’re still at the top of my contacts. Listed under ‘Asshole,’ obviously,” you giggle.

“Ah, my favorite of your pet names,” he laughs along with you.

You talk for a few more minutes until Crystal makes her way over; Ash slips away while the two of you catch up and shortly after, you get a text from Luke asking if you’re ready to go. Your eyes scan the room though you aren’t sure what exactly you’re searching for, because you’re totally fine leaving without saying goodbye to Ashton.

You're quiet on the ride back to Sierra and Luke’s and while you collect your things from their bedroom, she gently checks in.

“See, tonight wasn’t so bad,” she muses.

“No, it was OK. Good to see everyone,” you shrug. “...Ash looks healthy.”

“He looks good,” Sierra says pointedly. You say nothing.

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Luke asks, coming into the room and sitting next to his girlfriend on the bed. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.”

“I’m fine, Luke,” you chuckle. You turn and hug them both. “I love you both, I’ll text when I’m home.” They respond by kissing the top of your head and you chuckle fondly as you leave.

“They seemed OK tonight,” Luke mentions while they get ready for bed.

“They were more than OK, those stubborn kids couldn’t have been more into each other,” Sierra rants. “I think they really miss it, they just won’t admit it.”

“Oh, Ash definitely misses her. I swear, he talked about her less when they were together,” he jokes. Sierra raises an eyebrow, which Luke takes as encouragement to continue rambling about everything Ash had told him. “He knows they fought a lot but he even misses that... he’s been saying he’s glad he never told her he loved her, though. Things would’ve been a lot harder. Messier. I dunno, he’s always asking about her.”

You get home and drop your bag right inside the door with a huge, exhausted sigh and pull out your phone to text Luke and Sierra before heading to your room. You throw open the closet and it only takes you a couple seconds to spot what you’re looking for: that hoodie that Ash left behind and you never bothered to return.

You stare at it for a beat and then leave to wash your face and brush your teeth; you already know what you’re about to do but you still try to talk yourself out of it. Back in the bedroom, you reluctantly grab the hoodie off of its hanger, change into it and climb into bed. You hold the sleeves to your face and breathe Ashton in; long, deep breaths, letting his smell fill your nostrils. You’ve done this more times than you’d care to admit these past few months; you miss him here, in your space. You curl in a ball and drift off, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you.

You’re woken up early by your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You see it’s Sierra and pick it up, groaning, making sure she can hear it. “S?”

“Hey babe… can we lunch?” She bubbles.

“You couldn’t have texted?”

“Sorry, Sunshine, just wanted to hear your lovely voice… and get a definite answer out of you. 1 o’clock, don’t be late!” She sing-songs, hanging up.

You check your notifications and your heart sinks, not seeing anything from Ashton. You weren’t sure why you thought you would. You curl up and go back to sleep for a while.

Sierra knows you well enough to guess you fell back asleep without setting an alarm and she starts blowing you up around noon. You text that you’ll see her soon and you start getting ready. You use the most fragrant soap you can find for your shower, ensuring the smell of Ashton's cologne doesn't linger on your skin.

You walk into your usual lunch place and easily spot Sierra on the patio. "Drinks are on their way," she shares as you take your seat.

You chat breezily about the party: how good the food was, how Michael's DJ setup was so much more elaborate than at the last party you attended, how much you loved what Crystal had worn. You wonder out loud if Cal had gone home with the girl he'd been making eyes at all night and Sierra seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation to her topic of choice.

"Speaking of making eyes," she takes a prolonged sip from her glass. "Things seemed a little intense with Ash last night."

You give her a tight-lipped smile, determined not to give her anything she can blow out of proportion. "I told you it was fine. Easier than I expected in a lot of ways, harder in others."

She places her hand on your arm from across the table. "I looked over a few times and saw him with his arm over your chair, you watching him talk… it was like we were back at that resort again," she says wistfully.

You evaluate her face for a moment. Since she's one of your best friends, you're used to being lovingly annoyed with her meddling in your life but sometimes you forget that it comes from a place of genuine love and concern for you. "Regardless of how things turned out, I'll always be grateful you forced me to stay on that trip," you smile. "That was some once in a lifetime kind of shit."

"From what I heard down the hall, sure sounded like it," she teases, grinning as you playfully shoo her hand off your arm. "That anniversary's coming up quick, isn't it?"

"Next week," you blurt, wincing at how quickly you answer.

"We'll have to think of something fun to do together," she declares carefully. "Not that you need it, but just in case you don't want to be alone."

This time you reach over and squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been around like I used to, S. I just… needed time," you admit. "It's still hard. Most of the time, actually. But being around you and Lu again feels good. I think I need the support more than I realized."

"Babe," she pouts. "We were there for you before Ash, during Ash and we want to be there for you post-Ash. We love you."

You feel better than you thought you would as you head back to your car. Being honest with Sierra - and yourself - was easier than you expected. You briefly think about texting Ash - nothing major, something chill like "fun catching up last night" - but think better of it.

Sierra gets to her car and immediately texts Crystal, who requested an update when she heard you were getting lunch. She suggests asking Cal’s perspective to get the full picture of where Ash is at, so Sierra calls him on the drive home.

“Hey Sweet Boy!” She greets him.

“Sierra!” She can hear the grin on his face at the nickname. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you how Ash is. I mean, I know what Luke tells me but I feel like he gives you more,” she explains.

“How do you mean? You saw him last night?”

“How has he been since the breakup?” She emphasizes.

“Oh… OH!! Oh! What are you planning? Please tell me you’re doing something, he’s making me crazy. I don’t know what came over him last night,” Cal babbles.

“I think Luke had a hand in that,” Sierra admits with a sigh. “She came over to get ready with me and I think he probably shared some things he shouldn’t have. You know how he is.”

“What’s in that beautiful brain of yours?” Cal murmurs, letting out an excited little laugh. Out of everyone, he tends to enjoy Sierra’s plans like this the most, especially when they aren’t directed toward him.

“I don’t know yet… I feel like we just need to get them talking alone again like they were last night, remind them what was there...” she muses. She talks through a few ideas with Calum and he’s on board for any of them.

By the time she gets home, Sierra is raring to go; she practically runs up the stairs to ask Luke for his help.

“Hey hun!” He greets her with a smile when she raps on the door to his studio. He moves the guitar off his lap, silently inviting her to come lay on the couch while they talk. “How was lunch, how’s our girl?”

She fills him in on everything: your mood, your conversation and the consulting she’s been doing among the friend group. Luke seems interested but about halfway through becomes engrossed in his phone and Sierra sits up, irritated. “Babe, you asked, are you even listening?”

He briefly looks concerned and then grins. “Sorry, just distracted by Ash blowing up the group chat, asking if anyone wants to go away next week so he doesn’t have to deal with their anniversary,” he proudly holds up his phone.

Her jaw drops at the opportunity that’s fallen at their feet. “What if…” She starts furiously typing into her phone. “Yes… that house you guys stayed at when you were planning the last album is free.”

“Palm Springs? OK, so…” Luke trails off, trying to follow her logic.

“Band retreat for the boys. Self-care trip for the girls,” she answers, shooting off texts to Crystal, Mike and Cal.

“That house really isn’t big enough for all of us,” he comments, still lost.

She finally looks up at him, smiling widely. “It’s a good thing they’ll be the only ones going, then.”

————-

Taglist is breaking the links in the post and I currently do not have the brainpower to figure out the problem lol. We’ll try again tomorrow but in the meantime, if you aren’t notified, you can always check the masterlist which will be updated everyday!

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @feliznavidaddycal

@castaway-cashton @ashtonlftv @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @youngbloodchild @irwinsbetch @everyscarisahealingplace

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands @realisticnotes @makeamovehemmings @golden166 @burstintocolor

@youngblood199456 @notinthesameguey @seanna313 @zhangyixingxing1 @stardust-galaxies @zackoid

@lovelybonesetc @xsongxbirdx @justhereforcalum @ashtonangst

@laura66sos @calumrose @karajaynetoday @jazzyangel242 @babylon-corgis @heyheyhaleyd @calmsweetcreature

@spicycal @talkfastromance4 @holystxne

@meetmedowntown @myloverboyash

@irwindoll @carrielfisher @lukedorkyhemmings @creampiecashton @lovelywordsblog

@trix-arent-for-kids @uh-huhh-honey @tobefalling @aladyofalbion @likehuhdude

@curlycalums @cxddlyash

@fedorable-killjoys @iamcalumswhore @i-like-5sos

@aquarius-hood1996 @babylonashton

@begluketostay @mateisit-balsamic

@crazyforcal @neso-k @deliciouslydisturbed365 @blxndeprincess

#5sos smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fic #ashton smut #5 seconds of summer smut #smut #Kindahoping4forever #cal-puddies #cass & Crystal #the dream team 🦦🦦#When The Sun Came Up You Were Looking At Me #Feedback is appreciated #buckle up y'all this is going to be a WILD ride #Thank you for reading and we'll see you tomorrow!

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joontier · 4 years ago

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“V” | part one

synopsis: You zinged. With the captain. Who was human.

pairings: kim taehyung x female reader

rating: R (18+) | genre: smut, fluff, angst, crack, minor angst (as of now) ,fantasy, (unknowing) enemies to lovers trope; captain! taehyung x vampire! reader, based off Hotel Transylvania and Girl’s Trip! | warnings: plenty of sexual innuendos, explicit sex) (groping, fingering, exhibitionism,

word count: 13.1k

g/n: im splitting this into a two/three shot because i really wanted to post this bc the coward in me is afraid that if i finish and post the whole thing this app might crash on me ajfoiawjefiajwfa n e ways, enjoy this first part and please let me know what you think!

one. | two. | three.?

navi | m.list

Albeit recorded as one of the smallest countries in terms of area and population, the country of Tersnoa proudly boasts its multiple attractions and rich culture. As the nation’s economy depends heavily on tourism, Tersnoa is considered a hidden treasure amongst the genuine travelers - human and monsters alike.

Santa Shelea - the monster capital of Tersnoa, is located beneath the lush woods of the small country, hidden to the human eye. Entrance to the city you grew up in is a privilege given only to monsters, though it wasn’t always like that.

The city used to nurture human and monster liaisons, with relations surpassing mere diplomacy. Humans and monsters shared friendships that run deeper than their contrasts in physical attributes and their innate characteristics. It was a time when both parties realized they were so much alike in plenty of ways and respect was observed by all despite the differences in appearances and culture. Admittedly, monsters had more to sacrifice with these accords due to your more primal urges, but your kind made it work, for the sake of peaceful coexistence.

The other party, however, did not seem to share the same sentiments for long.

Santa Shelea was one of the few places left on Earth where monsters sought refuge as your kind of people were constantly drawn out of the places they used to peacefully live at by the humans themselves. You thought Santa Shelea was different - that these people you once even considered family wouldn’t push you away just like what the others did, but it wasn’t before long that the human citizens of the once-glorious city were going to change their minds.

These selfish, pompous humans conducted an uprising to protest against the presence of monsters in ‘their’ land. It was an awful time to have grown up in, being called a ‘monster’ in all senses of the word, especially from those people you have even considered friends. The human citizens conducted an uprising in Santa Shelea, protesting the presence of monsters in ‘their’ land, ultimately disturbing the peace of the city.

Humans burned your houses down to the ground, including your helpless mother in their supposed quest for peace. After having kept the harmonious liaisons for quite some time, your kind had gone back to your primitive instincts, fighting for your rights along with an army of beasts, hybrids, witches, and members of the undead. It was catastrophe epitomized, a day that no one wishes to relive.

It isn't fair to say that the monsters emerged victorious when so many had perished, your mother included. Eventually, these mortal beings realized there were no match for formidable creatures and soon took their leave of the once prosperous city. Soon enough, humans became history to monsters and vice versa.

Rebuilding your beloved city from scratch was no easy task, proving to be even more difficult with the agony that came with burying the past. To prevent any more man-made disasters in the future, the witches had agreed to cast a spell over Santa Shelea: that your city will forever remain invisible to the human eye.

And it has remained such until the present, appearing as part of the picturesque mountain ranges Tersnoa has to offer. Far from the city and beneath the mountains of lush forestry, Hotel Tersnoa stands tall in the middle of Santa Shelea - the city where monsters thrive. If you could only speak for yourself, the city could easily pass as the eighth wonder of the world.

Hotel Tersnoa isn’t the only legacy handed down from your great-great-great-grandfather (“G4 for short”, he’d offered one day, explaining that he had to ‘blend in with the now’). During the past millennia, he had also established a conglomerate of enterprises across the world. He’s even founded BloodHub, an international focus group centered on blood diseases and blood donations but you wouldn’t want to delve on the beginning and end of that.

The responsibility of taking over the hotel had been passed on to your father since then and his ardency for the hotel was unparalleled, the bequest of the hotel has surpassed the original Hotel Tersnoa of which your grandfathers had initially envisioned it to be. Your father would spend hours on end surveying every detail, nook, and cranny of the beloved establishment, barking orders left and right.

On top of being a father, he had busied himself with the responsibilities of a hotelier. Yet you knew deep down it was all but a façade to mask the void that your mother left in his heart. There were many nights you’d caught him staring into the distance in a secluded place, away from the hustle and bustle at the hotel. You loved your father dearly, wanting nothing else for him but the happiness he truly deserves.

When you had turned of age, you insisted on taking over the hotel in your father’s stead. You knew that your mother’s passing had been a toll too great to bear for your father, especially in a place where he is constantly reminded of her. You wanted him to enjoy his life, to bring back the life in his eyes, however ironic it may sound as part of the undead.

Your father had disapproved of the idea at first, reasoning out that it was too big of a responsibility to hand over. He’d told you that you were still young and he wanted you to enjoy your life while you still could. With your adamancy and endless prodding, you had finally convinced him to cave in. Besides, you’re pretty sure you’ll stay young for a long time.

As you have taken on the commitment of being the lady of the house, or hotel rather, your father spent his time moving from one place to another, taking on different identities so as not to reveal his real one. When you were just starting out with your duties as the new hotelier a few years back, he couldn’t leave you behind for a day, checking up on you every two hours just in case an emergency occurs. As if something drastic could happen when more than half of your customers are already dead.

Years pass by and hourly check-ups became daily ones and then weekly afterwards, until he calls you from halfway across the world every once in a while, just to tease you if the hotel was just as great as he left it. You hadn’t actually seen him in a year, apparently ‘busy’ with his new business venture in Amsterdam.

That’s why when you pick up his scent nearby, you momentarily stop in your tracks. It isn't exactly unusual for your father to have impromptu visits, but you’ve learned that it’s highly unlikely for your father to drop by at such a time like this.

He avoids peak season at Tersnoa like the plague, let alone a Friday the 13th special like today, in addition to the most anticipated week-long celebration of the hotel’s six hundred and sixty-sixth anniversary. Your father steers clear of times like these at all costs, always making up excuses to avoid the crowd and the stress that comes with it. So much for being the past manager.

You can’t really hold it against him, as it surely has been an arduous feat having run the hotel for almost two centuries. Even though you both laugh it off whenever you tease him about it, you know deep down he genuinely enjoys attending to his customers and making sure they get the best customer service.

A scoff escapes your lips when you see the infamous Drac-cape nearing. You’re mildly tempted to ignore him altogether, not wanting to be involved with someone who wore something that has run out of style decades ago. Secondhand embarrassment is a thing, and it’s very real.

You have already lost count of the times you’ve told him to get rid of the ridiculous piece of clothing, yet he dismisses you every time, clinging onto the nostalgic feeling that comes with the cape. In consideration of your request, your father had gone so far as acquiring the services of a handful of stylists to make some alterations to the design, and you have to say you’re pretty impressed with the outcome. What else could you have said? The Drac-cape was old but gold.

You’re about to greet him when a staff approaches you, holding out a folder with papers that require your signatures. Your father stands a meter away with a proud smile, watching you with fondness in his eyes. Once you finish with the papers, he calls out, “Ah, my princess,” arms wide open to greet you with a hug. He’s the first to pull away, hands still resting on your shoulders as he takes a good look at you. “You grow up so fast!” he says jokingly with a wide smile plastered on his face as he pinches your cheeks.

There’s something off though, something suspicious behind that painstakingly dubious grin on his face. Smiling wasn’t something your father was fond of doing especially in public - too deep into portraying the character of the dark and brooding Dracula depicted in human children’s stories. Plus, your fangs sometimes get in the way, so smiling isn’t really a preferable option.

Before you get the chance to ask about his sudden visit, another staff member approaches you, another folder in hand. Your father shoos you away before you object, dragged away by your duties for the millionth time tonight.

“What is it now?” you ask the skeleton beside you, every sound of his movement resembling that of a marimba. “Your presence is being requested by Ms. Catherine at her party, Countess.”

You’d almost forgotten your cousin Catherine had rented out the hotel’s rooftop to celebrate her engagement to her long-time boyfriend Jericho. You’ve already congratulated and apologized to her plenty of times prior to this day, already knowing that you won't be able to celebrate it properly because of the events being held at the hotel. With the hectic schedule you were running on, you just realized that you hadn't visited her all day.

It had been a very long week, and you were tired to the bone, but the guilt of not being physically present at her party was gnawing at you endlessly. Almost reaching the point that you forgot your father was just in front of you mere seconds ago - and now he’s disappeared, again.

Heeding to your cousin’s call, you decide to leave the area, leaving a puff of smoke behind you. You reappear the same way at the rooftop, just beside Catherine herself, who looked like she was hiding from someone, crouched behind a table.

“Who are you guys hiding f-” Unable to finish your sentence with Cat shushing you, you crane your neck up a little, glancing at the others who were in similar dispositions. Weren’t they all too old to do this in an engagement party? Or was this a new trend Cat wanted to start?

Your heart clenches nevertheless at the hilarious attempt to hide from whoever or whatever it is they were hiding from. It was quite the scene: an orange tentacle slithering its way to steal a cupcake by the buffet table, Barry Blob thinks he can camouflage as jelly, and Bigfoot was… well, let’s just say he was never meant for a game of hide and seek. The only monster one would have expected to be good at this was your uncle Griffin who was born invisible but he was always the one first spotted because he thinks wearing disguises like a hot pink wig (his choice of the day) would make him unnoticeable.

And yet this is what they supposedly call ‘hiding’.

“Is this the new norm during engagement parties? Hiding from the responsibilities of married life I see,” you suppress a snicker with your palm, and when Cat looks back at you to shut you up, she screams with such fright, alarming everybody on the rooftop.

“Surprise!” Mandy Mummy, one of your closest friends, appears from the other side of the table.

“You guys were meant to surprise me?” Your brows furrow. “Are you all sure? What’s the occasion?”

Frankie Frankenstein emerges from behind the bar, throwing a suspicious look at you. “You’re kidding me, right?”

You look at the others in the hopes of finding a hint behind what was really going on, but Cat beats you to it, extending her arms out as she beckons you closer, “I don’t know how a monster could possibly forget the day she was born, but we’re here now so, happy birthday my dearest forgetful cousin!” Cat gives you an extra slap on your ass in greeting.

Realization finally hits you, reminiscing the short moments throughout the day that had hinted on your birthday. You did see a few of your staff nudge each other in your presence, but you only thought it was because they were hesitant to say something when they knew that it had been a hectic week so far, tight schedules and all.

The rest of the crowd clear out, revealing themselves from their hiding places. Your father appears from one side, carrying a dangerously huge three-tiered cake.

Mandy approaches first, narrowing her eyes at you, “Wait, you seriously forgot your own birthday?” Cat answers in your stead, “She did,” while she points a finger to her temple, reiterating her capability of subjective precognition to the rest of the group.

“Uncle Drac! Can you remind me again how are we related?”

“I wanted to ask the same thing!” Your father exclaims, grabbing a glass of champagne from a gargoyle waiter and trailing off to greet his friends.

“Cat, you know I’ve been busy for so long, I don’t exactly have a birthday countdown every year to remind me of something that is...not really that significant.”

“______, I know we’re practically dead, but that doesn’t mean you have to live like one.”

“Why don’t you try living in my shoes then, hm?”

“I would, if they were Valentinos.” Unable to rack your brain for a smarter response, you roll your eyes at her instead. The guests start singing happy birthday in chorus as they near you. The night continues on a light note, people wishing you another year of happiness and prosperity, likewise congratulating your cousin for her engagement and her soon wedding.

As the conversation eventually moves on to wedding preparations, Frankie spills on the details of Cat’s plans for her bachelorette party. You weren’t so keen with the idea - not when this was the first time it had been offered by the people closest to you.

Bachelorette parties were primarily a human thing - some sort of commemoration of debauchery as you had understood from Google when you had looked it up a few years ago. These kinds of celebrations weren’t exactly included in your traditions but judging by the photos you’ve seen online; you’re sort of glad this wasn’t classified as the norm in your world yet.

Cocktail parties with half-naked bartenders? Masseurs drenched in vaseline? Topless butlers serving dinner? What was with having male nudity as the baseline for such an occasion?

You didn’t think this was going to be a trend in the monster-verse anyways, as your kind comes in different shapes and sizes and these parties just might end up with one seeing a lot more than necessary.

When you try to confirm the plans with Catherine, she just shrugs at you three, telling you all that it was going to be a surprise. You, Mandy, and Frankie groan in unison at her reply.

“Impatient much? You still have the whole day tomorrow to pack your things.”

“We’re going on a trip?! And you’re telling me about this just now? A day before our leave?!”

“Yeap. How long does it take you to pack your clothes?”

“Do you not realize that I have a whole ass hotel to manage? I mean it’s not like I don’t want to go but surely, all my responsibilities cannot be handed over in a span of twenty-four hours? Plus, our week-long six hundred and sixty-sixth anniversary special isn’t over yet! You could have at least told me two weeks ahead?”

Someone places a hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see your own father smiling at you. “You’re just like your mother, darling. Stop worrying so much!”

“Exactly why I told him instead,” Cat raises her eyebrows at you as she points to your father. “Catherine’s right. So, I’ll be taking care of the hotel while you girls have some girly time by yourselves,” he says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Are you sure you can handle Hotel Tersnoa?” Your father almost spits out the champagne as he looks at you incredulously. “Excuse me? Need I remind you who handed the hotel over to you?”

“I know, it’s just… a lot has changed. We’ve expanded the hotel, there’s now a theme park, and a new island has just been opened… it can be a lot…”

Your father dismisses your worries with a wave and a kiss on your forehead. “Nothing I’ve never done before. You’ll be back before you know it. What could possibly go wrong?”

Right. Your father’s words echo in your head.

What could possibly go wrong?

“A cruise?!”

You’d gone through hours of travel, your ass was hurting from the prolonged sitting, and Catherine had not once told you where you were headed, mouth zipped shut. And yet here you were, mouth agape in shock – the betrayal, the treachery, the deception.

Docked in front of you is a humongous white ship, honking its siren with all its might. You’re struggling with attempting to even comprehend the entire situation. Your cousin did not just drag you out of your hotel to another… hotel...on water.

“Welcome to the Bermuda Triangle, where you’ll embark on a monster cruise of a lifetime,” announces a fish-man or man-fish creature clad in a sailorman’s outfit (well he was definitely a fish, but had the limbs of man). All your expectations for this trip had just been obliterated by a singular monotonous, unidentifiable being.

“Psst. Why is your face like that? I heard the fare was astronomical!” Frankie whispers when Mandy squishes between you two, trying to get a brochure from a stall nearby.

Everybody knew Cat was more than willing to spend her money on anything she has set her eyes on (just like that exclusive collection of Hermes bags she has back home) and actively looks for other ways to spend her money (such is a costly cruise) so this trip didn’t surprise you as much as it did Frankie. You’re wondering though, how she found out about this cruise and why she intends to celebrate her bachelorette’s party here.

If a disinterested man-fish was tasked to welcome its guests, well, you can tell there’s really nothing much to look forward to here. You just hope this cruise will give her money’s worth, or rather, at least half of it.

“Hey! This looks amazing!” Mandy exclaims, flipping the colorful brochure over a couple times. “There’s even a waterpark, multiple dining options, bowling alleys, a theater…”

“Sounds like everything you can do…at the hotel!” You can’t help the rising pitch of your voice by the end of your reply while your friends laugh at your indignance. Mandy and Frankie ignore your protests, while Cat whispers near you, “Wait ‘til you see the itinerary!”

“Not you too?! Seriously though, I don’t get why you’ve chosen to do it here, instead of our own hotel…” you pout, head hung low.

Cat pulls you aside, letting the other passengers move forward, “Listen to me darling, alright? All these months, years, all you did was work and work and work again, we barely had any time to hang out together just like the old times, so I figured a break from all your customer service shenanigans and let yourself be served for once. Take a vacation from running everyone else’s vacation. Is that alright with you?”

Giving her an apologetic smile, you pull her into your arms for a tight hug. She wasn’t lying though when she said you had barely spent time with each other. Back when your father was still running the hotel, you’ve spent your early years always practically attached at the hip: from crying over your first boyfriends, through that emo high school phase, to pursuing several degrees, and to spontaneous trips halfway across the world when you were bored.

“Plus, Jer and I intend to start a family as soon as we get married, so these girl trips won’t come by often all the more.”

“You know I love you to the moon and back right? And will you stop making me feel like an aunt when I’m not yet one?! But, to be honest with you, that would be really cute though! Little you and little Jerichos running around… but you know, if Jer will come close to laying a finger on you, just say the word…”

“We zinged, darling. You have nothing to worry about. Maybe you’ll find your zing on the cruise too.”

You roll your eyes at her fondly. As if.

It doesn’t change the fact that you still have second thoughts about this trip. Begrudgingly, you climb up the stairs, sulking as you watch your friends and the rest of the group of the monsters huddle in excitement as they ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at the cruise’s features.

When you spot a few of Hotel Tersnoa’s beloved patrons in the group that arrived with you, your heart sinks a little, refusing to believe a fancy cruise could ever question their loyalty to the greatest monster hotel known to your kind. Guess nothing ever truly lasts, even with the undead.

You had initially expected the ship’s interiors with no sort of identity at all, resembling an array of badly mixed cocktails, individually appealing yet when put together looks like a lousy rainbow (you swear it’s not the spiteful hotelier inside you that’s speaking). Much to your chagrin though, the imaginary cruise you had inside your head was definitely not the case at all.

The rest of the monsters behind you continue to marvel at the cruise ship. And, quite frankly, you too are quite impressed yourself, as much as you hate to admit it. You’d never though such modern, minimalistic styling could fit a hotel on water but this cruise just seems to carry it pretty well.

The moment you set foot on the carpeted floors of the cruise, you’re awed at what seems like a celebration of the beauty of mother nature with nearly all furnishings made out of organic materials and colors exhibiting earthly hues. To add to the experience, preserved palm tress line the corridors and chandeliers made of LED lights litter the varnished high ceilings. It was like land on water – if that made any sense at all.

Man-fish continues to lead your group through the hallways, until you arrive at the main deck, just as picturesque as shown on the brochure Mandy held onto earlier. You were starting to realize why your cousin was into this whole cruise.

The creature half your height goes on to share a little history on the cruise ship – known as the Legacy. Similar to your hotel, cruising lines was also a family business for decades but it was only this year that the owners decided to extend the lines from taking human passengers to making a whole ship exclusively for monsters.

As this was the vessel’s maiden voyage and with your group being the first batch of guests to ever board the ship, a welcoming event was to happen tomorrow night, and the creature mentioned something about having the official invites placed in your rooms along with your luggage.

Right on cue, the moment you lean on the railing to overlook the deck below, a marching band appears from the side – a whole parade of man-fishes clad in band uniforms and red and gold. There’s even a few of them who start doing acrobatics, the sight of which has Frankie giggling to herself as she comes up with the term ‘fishcrobats’. She claims she’s the punniest monster in the universe.

The lights on the deck dim suddenly, and bright bursts of color start shooting up from a deck above you, fireworks lighting up the evening sky. It was a breathtaking display, with the others spiraling upwards while the rest exploded into a thousand more sparks. The display continues for a few more minutes, until the band makes a drumroll and a spotlight moves across the length of the ship and points at someone across the deck.

“Woah…” Mandy gapes, words drawling out to a low whistle. “Who. Is. That.”

A man in an all-white dress uniform emerges from the upper deck. “Ahoy there! Welcome aboard! Bienvenido, Zdravstvuyte, Guten Tag, Bonjour! I am V, captain of the Legacy…” Applause follows as the fireworks die down completely. “And yes, I’m human, but don’t hold that against me.” The captain’s eyes scan the crowd until they meet yours. He winks.

As soon as the blonde-haired captain looks away, Frankie squeals in your ear. “He totally just winked at you!”

“No, he didn’t,” you retort, never having been so grateful for not having a pulse, else Frankie would have your heart beating out of your chest.

“Yes, he did.”

The two of you were about to start bickering about the wink when the captain continues, “I’m very excited to have each and every one of you onboard for our very first monster cruise!” As unusually graceful as nobody else could probably do, he slides down the railing of the stairs as if he were just gliding through thin air.

“You’ll enjoy gourmet dining, thrilling adventures, and non-stop entertainment – all on our way to our final destination: the lost city that isn’t lost anymore – Atlantis!”

Your jaw drops – not because Atlantis had ‘apparently’ been found, in fact, it was never lost in the first place; they just cut ties with surface dwellers because of damage brought about by water pollution. In your defense, it was the humans were uncontrollable with their despicable habits but you can’t really put the blame on the Atlantians. It was their home after all, and they only wanted to protect it. Just as you would with Tersnoa.

What truly surprised you though, was how he managed to snag a partnership with them when you had vying for one since you took over the hotel. Well, your business proposition was never officially offered on the table, but still! Perhaps, if you made an entrance as grand as him, you would have succeeded though.

It was getting crowded where you stood, and Mandy tugs at your hand, pulling you down to the lower deck. Begrudgingly, you go down the stairs, sulking as you watch your friends and the other monsters huddle in excitement. You even recognize a few of the other passengers who are likewise patrons of Tersnoa. Or at least they were, now. Guess nothing truly ever lasts, even with the undead.

He reaches the lower deck in no time, greeting the other monsters with a wave and a smile. When he nears and you get a better look at him, you feel your entire body shudder – in a strangely delightful way, wave after wave of this electric feeling reaching until the very tip of your toes.

It feels as if every vein inside of you is pulsating, despite being practically dead. You felt…alive. A million thoughts rush through your head, with your gut feeling telling you something that is almost unmistakable. You have never, ever felt this way before but your intuition tells you this is the exact embodiment of the stories you’ve heard so many times in your lifetime. Could it be? Was it even possible?

The sensation was inexplicable, foreign too, yet it felt right. Like… like it was meant to be, perfectly destined in the most peculiar of ways. Digging through your purse, you retrieve the small mirror inside made specifically for vampires. Taking a quick glance of your reflection on the glass, you take notice of your irises that have turned purple, almost lavender in color. Gulping, you return the mirror into your purse at once, confirming your suspicion.

You zinged.

With the captain.

Who was human.

Frankie nudges your shoulder when she notices you stiffening beside her. “Is everything okay?” You feel your friend’s blue, stitched hand land on your shoulder. Giving Frankie a short reassuring nod in response, she shrugs it off, not before hearing her mumble about noticing something different with your eyes. Thankfully, the manifestation of the zing comes in different ways with every monster specie, so Frankie wouldn’t get the hint that you’re in deep, deep trouble.

Years of listening to stories of your culture and traditions rush to your head, all with the same words resonating throughout your brain. ‘It can make you cry; it can make you high; but, one thing a zing never does is lie – for it stays with you until you die.’

Shaking your head, you attempt to rid your thoughts of this man. He shouldn’t be your zing; he can’t be your zing. This was a huge mistake. The must’ve made a mistake. How could the very kind of people who murdered your own would also be the one designated for you – a soulmate, in human’s terms. You don’t even know how you're supposed to react to such a thing. Was it a curse? A blessing perhaps?

You continue to watch the man in silence. Sweet baby Jesus, the visuals this man was bestowed with. Maybe the man up there was real after all, and he had spent all seven days to craft this ethereal being. Even if he was meters away, his mere presence already makes you weak in the knees – considering the fact that you really haven’t officially met the person.

With his almost unrealistic face, you’re left wondering if your bodily reactions were caused by your zing or the captain really holds such prowess over creatures of all kinds. You wonder if it’ll be easy to forget your painful past and move forward? Trust the zing like all monsters do?

After promulgating the greatness of the monster population and how big of an honor it is for him to hold the first ever monster cruise, he also apologizes afterwards on behalf of his fellow humans for the mistreatment of your kind, drawing nearer and nearer to your group, eyes trained on you when he’s not busy welcoming the other monsters.

In an attempt to keep yourself from trembling, you clasp your hands together. Momentarily taking his eyes off you as he greets another guest, Mandy leans toward you and nudges your rib, “That, my friend, is what you call: a hottie. Go get him, tiger!” Blinking your eyes, you recollect yourself, giving her a dubious look, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Honey, anyone with a single working eye can confirm to themselves that the captain has been hand-sculpted by the gods themselves. And don’t tell me you don’t notice the bed eyes he’s giving you the whole time,” Mandy chortles bandaged shoulders bumping against your own as she does. “Deny it all you want now, darling, but I have this gut feeling that the love boat will be sailing very soon.”

Just then, as if on cue, the captain makes a beeline for your group, a small sultry smile playing on his lips. You feel like your insides wanted to crumble into sand and disperse into thin air. God, the things this man does to you…Rather, the things you want him to do to you. Now, your own brain betrays you with inappropriate thoughts and he’s currently in front of you looking like a whole course meal. He has such pretty eyes too and oh- this is bad. This is very bad.

“Ah, if it isn’t the one and only Countess Dracula,” he says, voice low as his eyes bore themselves into your soul (as if you still had one). “May I?” The captain takes your hand in his and gingerly places a kiss on the back of your palm. You’re rendered speechless by the small gesture, while the rest of your friends gape at the captain like he had suddenly grown three more heads.

“I’m known as V around here,” he keeps your hand in his, and you’re instantly all too conscious of everything – what if your hand was too cold for him? Or too clammy perhaps? All your worries are diminished when he doesn’t seem to take notice of any of your present worries, tugging you closer to him as he inches towards your face, warm breath fanning against your cheek, “but you can call me Taehyung.”

He pulls back just as slowly, sending you and your friends an innocent boxy smile. “Guess I’ll be seeing you lot around! Please enjoy the cruise. And remember, if there’s anything you need, feel free to approach me anytime.”

Walking away to attend to his captain-y duties, the three other girls gather around the moment he’s out of sight. “What. Was. That.” Catherine questions, punctuating each word with numerous blinks.

“I’ve already sent a prayer to Anubis to take care of our dear ______’s departed soul,” chimes Mandy, waving a hand in front of you in the hopes of taking you out of your shock.

“Whoosh! There goes _______’s undies!” Frankie adds as she throws her head back in laughter. Your cousin tsks at them to get them to stop teasing you, but with the smirk she’s sporting on her face, you’re certain she’s going to bring this up sooner or later.

With a deep sigh, you hang your head low. This was going to be a long vacation.

Right after Taehyung stages the entrance of the century and greets the cruise’s guests, he discreetly makes his way to a less crowded part of the ship and walks briskly along a dimly lit hallway. Pushing forward an inconspicuous panel on the wall leading to a secret passage, Taehyung silently makes his way done to the lower level of the ship.

The stateroom is almost pitch black as he enters; Taehyung feels his way through the room, solely relying on muscle memory to head to the bedroom. When he turns on the light to check on his great-grandfather, the old man squints, croaking out Taehyung’s name. Rushing to the elder’s side, the dutiful great-grandson pours water on the glass by the bedside table.

Taehyung perches himself on the edge of the bed, taking his great-grandfather’s frail hands in his own. “Dracula – is he on board?” the old man rasps, voice almost whispery. “No,” the younger man shakes his head in denial, “but his daughter is.”

The former winces a little when he tries to shift in his bed, “Even better. Tear him apart by slowly taking his loved ones away from him one by one. Let him feel the pain we had to go through.”

The blonde-haired captain sighs when his great-grandfather coughs again, wheezing as he does. “Promise me you’ll avenge our family, Taehyung. I’m not sure if I’m going to make it any longer, but if I won’t…” he coughs, the strain on his voice evident. “Grandpa, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” The old man waves his hand, dismissing Taehyung, “Promise me…for your mother, for your father, and the rest of our family. You and I are the only ones left, my dearest great-grandson. We have no one else to rely on but each other.” The old man’s hand clasp weakly against Taehyung’s.

He tucks his great-grandfather in his bed, and waits patiently for the old man to fall asleep before leaving the room.

You and the girls roam around the deck for a little longer, before deciding to call it a night and head to your rooms. It’s quite the walk all the way there, but as you get farther from the hustle and bustle of the crowd and onto a more secluded part of the vessel, not to mention the rooms are getting father apart from each other, you suppose Cat had picked the best suites available on the cruise. Typical.

Not putting much thought into it with exhaustion taking over your body, you tiredly take a half body bath and head to bed.

Rising a few hours later, you plan on checking out your cousin’s accommodation choices. Just as man-fish had mentioned the night before, there was in fact an invitation placed on top of your bedside table, the gold linings too attractive to miss out on. How could you have possibly missed it though, is all up to your fatigue last night, far too tired to even scan the room.

Heading to the kitchen first to make yourself a cup of coffee, you’re greeted by the beautiful glow of the sunrise as you exit your bedroom. You’re momentarily stunned by the beauty of it, as it was your first after a long time to see the sun, or at least a quarter of it. Contrary to popular belief, sunlight doesn’t incinerate vampires, nor does it make you vanish into thin air. In fact, the closest stories had gotten to your biological truths was that sunlight made you weaker – sort of, because the only explanation for it was that you get really bad sunburn under its rays. But that’s nothing a small bottle of Witch Republic’s Suncream Lotion SPF 5000 can’t fix.

Equipped with a 60-inch smart television mounted on a wall, an equally large painting was hung across the room, serving itself as the background for the sitting area.

The fittings are generously provided for, if the room truly claims it to be a suite for couples: a settee is placed in front of the television for viewing purposes, and another is placed vertically across for lounging and enjoying the view of the balcony.

The balcony – was magnificent in all senses of the word. From a picture on the tiny ‘Legacy’ booklet you grabbed from the table, there really wasn’t much to a panoramic view of the sea but as you pass through the wide windows, the beautiful orange glow from the dawn adds a lovely burst of color in the predominantly monochrome furnishings of the room.

You inhale deeply, breathing in the fresh sea air. You spend a few more moments there, leaning over the balcony until Frankie ruins your moment from a couple of meters away, calling you loud enough for the rest of the ship and the Atlantic Ocean to hear. She drawls your name out, screaming her excitement over your rooms. “I haven’t slept like this since I got my arm re-stitched!” You laugh at her before waving and returning to the sitting room.

A part of you was taking mental notes – possible additions and improvements to your hotel, yet the other half of you wants to allow yourself to enjoy small pleasures like these. Maybe Cat was right all along, that you needed a break from running the hotel and truly relax for a while. With the size of this suite though, you can’t help but wonder if Cat got you all the couple suites solely for your enjoyment or hers.

You decide to take your mug of coffee with you to the balcony and breathe more of the satisfying sea air until the sun rises in its entirety and you retreat back to your room, wanting to sleep in the warm duvet of your bed once more. Maybe this vacation won’t be that bad after all.

Shopping with Catherine was never an easy task. If you could say so yourself, shopping with your cousin was a whole workout on its own.

It’s been three hours since she’s dragged you, Mandy, and Frankie out of your rooms and offered you a shopping spree and free lunch. Who was one to deny such graces? Even when all three of you knew you all would end up following your cousin wherever she went until you’d all complain about how she has to take too long when she always ends up buying everything she sees anyways.

As you stare at your seated self by the full-length mirror, you start to have second thoughts about discontinuing that beginner’s program subscription in yoga before you let Catherine drag you out of the comfort of your room. Sighing in defeat, Frankie turns to you with a similar expression on her face.

Starving, the three of you leave Cat momentarily to look for something to eat, and at the sight of a frozen yogurt stall across the hallway from where you’re seated by the Chanel windows, you and the rest of the girls immediately saunter towards the quaint stall.

While you wait for the girl to finish up your orders, your eyes are busy wandering all over the place in an attempt to count how many shops and boutiques they managed to allocate inside the cruise ship. Guess your hotelier side is already one with your true self.

As you watch a loud group of male monsters exit the arcade nearby, you catch sight of someone awfully familiar: the last face you’d want to see when you’re stuck inside a cruise ship for a few weeks.

Your eyes follow the group, wanting to make sure your eyes are not playing tricks on you. Like a hawk, you watch the group closely – one man in particular, yet he won't seem to look in your direction. You wanted to forget all about it and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you figure this is going to cause you a number of sleepless nights if you don’t. Quickly, you resort to a plan that will have to cost you more energy than just observing, but you were determined to make sure that it was really him.

Focusing your vision on a nearby potted plant, you make the clay vessel move an inch as you try to catch his attention. The first try doesn’t work and neither does the second. Hell bent on your resolution, the third time works the charm (obviously with a more significant amount of distance the plant has moved).

Your suspicions are confirmed – it’s truly him.

Just like that, all sorts of emotions course through you and you feel the corners of your eyes starting to well with tears. He laughs at something one of his companions say, and you feel your heart clench as you look at the same smile you fell for years ago.

It’s takes you a while before you process somebody has been calling you name several times, then you see Mandy waving her hand in front of you. “You okay there? What happened?”

Etching an ingenuine smile on your face, you turn to face her as she hands you the dessert, “Nothing…just thought I saw someone familiar…”

“Mhmm,” Frankie hums, scooping a large portion of yogurt into her mouth, “as long as it’s not you-know-who, then it’s irrelevant,”

“Actually, I think it is him.”

Frankie chokes on the sliced strawberry topping she just ate. “What?!” Mandy places a hand on your shoulder, an apologetic look on her face. “Don’t tell me that fucker is also here?!” Shushing her quickly, you reach out to her to tug at her arm to keep her quiet.

“What fucker are you talking about?” Catherine questions, approaching the three of you with two extra paper bags in her hand. Frankie keeps her mouth shut, thankfully while Mandy comes in to the rescue. “Frankie was just talking about how fucking tasty this froyo is. In fact, I think so too – would you like to try some?” The girl offers her cup, eventually feeding Cat with a spoonful of fruity toppings.

The subject is quickly diverted and as your cousin rummages through her bag to look for the cruise’s official pamphlet, both Frankie and Mandy give you a knowing look.

“Lunch anyone?” You propose to the other three, already wishing you’d soon be forgetting about even seeing your ex-fiancée earlier.

You’d gotten back to your room around half past five, nearly collapsing to the floor after hours and hours of shopping with your cousin. The girls had agreed to use your room to prepare for the party later (one discussion you don’t remember agreeing to) and had gone around the sitting area, placing their bags done and going through their purchases.

You, on the other hand, had gone straight to the kitchen to look for something to drink. Besides, you just know they’re going to ask for something too later on, so you just grab a few bottles of water for the girls. As you rested against the cool fridge while opening a bottle of your own, you spot a punnet of strawberries sitting on top of a counter.

“Did any one of you bring strawberries here before we left?”

When they chorused their replies of denial, you check the strawberries warily, lifting them off the marble top. You hear something slide down when you open the container. A card came in with the strawberries.

Returning to the living room with strawberries in one hand and the card in the other, Frankie stands from the settee and snatches the card away from you. She waves the small piece of paper in the air, claiming it was a love letter. “Dear _______, I really think you’ve got a wonderful smile, but it’d be better if it was the only thing you’ll be wearing tonight!” she says, pretending to read the note.

“What?! You’ve already made a move without telling us about it? Lemme see!” Mandy exclaims, running after your stitched friend.

“Oh!” Frankie says, pointing to the sky, “Looks like we might be expecting a few inches tonight, hmm?” she adds, snickering as she pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue repeatedly, and rather inappropriately.

“Y’all disgusting really. ‘M going to shower.”

“Make sure you don’t have too much fun with the showerhead!”

“Fuck you Mandy!”

“I would if you were my type!”

Catherine waits until she hears the water running before turning to her two friends left at the sitting area. “I’m worried.”

“About?”

“My cousin.” The eldest of the girls says, tapping her nails against the couch – a nervous habit. Frankie sets the card back down and nests herself on the carpet just across Cat. “What is there to worry about?”

“This thing between my cousin and the captain?” Carding her fingers through her hair, she closes her eyes before continuing, “Does the fact that he’s human not bother you…at all?”

“The dude’s harmless! And he better think it through when he tries to do something – he’s literally in a ship full of monsters. Do something dumb, he can get his head bitten off in no less than two seconds.”

Catherine is not convinced.

“Plus, I’m sure it’s just a one-time fling – surely, ______’s smart enough to know that. I just firmly believe that one must get laid regularly because penetrative sex is medicinal. And who knows? There might be cobwebs down there already!” Frankie adds.

Cat flings a brochure at Frankie before scrolling through her phone’s gallery then stopping at a portrait of you and her. “I’m just concerned about _____’s wellbeing. This is the most time we’ve spent together for the past two years, and I’m not even sure if she’s fully recovered from what she’d been through with you-know-who.”

“Even worse, what if she falls for the dude? Or she zinged? Or they both zinged?!”

“Hey, hey…” Mandy scoots over to Cat’s side and wraps an arm across her shoulder, “you’re overthinking now babe, and! This is your bachelorette party, stop worrying about stuff. _____ is a strong, independent woman. If she can handle the best hotel in monster history, then handling a man will be too easy.”

“Come out already!” Mandy whines impatiently from outside, knocking impatiently on your bathroom door. You smooth a few creases on your dress before you open the door to reveal your outfit. Shock was a heavy understatement. Cat’s usually beautiful features twist into one of distaste, Mandy pretends to gag at the sight, and Frankie avoids your gaze as she purses her lips.

You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes your throat when they look at you up then down, scrutinizing your fashion choices.

“What. The hell. Is that?!”

“Why are you too covered up?”

Their hostilities continue as you give them a twirl, genuinely confused with their reactions when there’s absolutely nothing wrong with choosing a long-sleeved rayon blouse with ruffles in the front and a green pleated skirt.

“You didn’t tell me you’re meant to apply for the queen’s secretary?” Frankie questions, rummaging through your luggage.

“You mean Queen Elizabeth I?” Mandy adds, snickering along with the rest of the girls.

“Hey! G4 says she was pretty! And educated for her time too!” you cry in protest.

“Same with you darling. But it’s a party we’re attending and not a royal appointment, so will you do me a favor and wear this instead?”

Your mouth falls agape in shock.

“What?! This dress is… is barely covering anything!” You look closely at the satin blood-red piece of clothing as Catherine hands it to you. Needless to say, just looking at it was a cultural reset.

“Glad to know you’re unaware of that point.” Mandy butts in, “you’ll be happy to know that this dress will get you a man in no time either way.”

“Either way?” Frankie questions before leaving your room to looks for heels to go with your dress.

“Yeap,” the mummy replies, touching up her make-up, “Either you get a man who will cover you up or you’ll find one who will gladly take it off for you later tonight

Catherine coughs, “The captain,” winking at you while she pushes you towards the bathroom, “Chop chop now dear! We still have a party to attend to tonight!”

The party is already in full swing by the time the four of you arrive. The crisp, chilly air hits your face as you get to the main deck, and as you wrap your arms around yourself, you know you're already regretting having worn Catherine’s dress. Arms bare, half of your back out in the open, and a thigh-high slit? Really? A towel could’ve afforded you more modesty than this dress.

Mandy immediately heads to bar, leaving you all to ‘pick your poison for tonight’. Pursing your lips at your mummified friend, you trail after your cousin as she looks for a table to settle yourselves in. You scan the crowd, watching the other monsters move to beat of the music, and also, just in case someone you don’t want to see decides to show up again out of nowhere.

Mandy finds you shortly afterwards with a waiter trailing behind her, carrying a tray of ambiguous looking chalices. Oh boy.

This night was headed straight to hell.

Nearly an hour later, you practically waddle back to your table, breathless and throat parched as the desert. Catherine clings onto you like her Hermes Himalaya Birkin, just as exhausted as you were. Why do you always seem to forget that Mandy dragging your asses to the dance floor has never been the smartest choice?

The moment you get back to your table, you reach for the bronze goblet and down the rest of your drink. The distinctive burn has you keening, tightening your fingers around its stem. Beside you, Catherine coughs after she takes a sip of hers – “What the fuck is in this drink?? Methane?!”

“Throat…on fire…I feel like a fucking dragon,” you attest, voice raspy.

“That, my dear girlfriends, has been mixed by yours truly,” Mandy announces with a proud smile on her face. “I call it the Devil’s Piss.”

You shake your head at her, rubbing at your temples. Starting to feel the sweat break at your hairline, you want nothing more than to return to your suite and sleep the night away. Closing your eyes, you draw a calm scene inside your head: watching the sun set by your balcony as you sip on your hot chocolate –

Your dreams of orange skies and the soft breeze are cut short when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Countess, the captain requests your presence on the bridge.” Your eyes follow the direction of where he was pointing and see a pair of eyes staring back at you.

Perhaps sleep could stay second on your list tonight.

Cat wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as you bow your head in embarrassment, your cheeks flushing when the rest of the girls whistle and howl as the man-fish stoically escorts you to the bridge. Once you arrive at the top of the stairs, the man adjusts your grip on his elbow as he gently takes your hand and stretches it forward for you to continue on by yourself. “The captain will be waiting inside, Countess” He bows curtly, and your left on your own to walk towards the bridge.

“Countess.” There’s the low timbre of his voice again, sending shivers down your spine effortlessly as you close the door behind you. He doesn’t speak after that, just taking in what you’re wearing tonight, subconsciously biting on his bottom lip as he takes in the outfit your friends have chosen for you.

Every step you take is wobbly, like your legs have turned into goo. The chilly breeze up here is likewise not helping your skin already prickled with goosebumps.

“_______,” Taehyung grabs your hand and gently places a kiss on the back of your palm. Another strike of electricity shoots up your spine at the small gesture. Goodness, what the hell was going on with you?

“Y-you don’t have to do this e-every time we meet.” Inwardly cringing at your shaky voice, you look away and exhale deeply in an attempt to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t help.

Especially not when the captain is less than an arm-length away, and being able to see him this close is doing dangerous things to you. “This is the first time I’ve been on a ship’s bridge,” you comment lamely, keeping the conversation on a sane note. The thirsty ass hoe inside you doesn’t seem to approve of the idea though, unfortunately.

“Really now? How is your first time on the bridge then?”

“It’s…different.”

“Different? How so?”

“Different from trying to run a hotel I guess, which was all I was doing for the past few years…It’s an unlikely comparison, I know, but being here…it’s like you get to oversee everything from the bridge, which I never get when I’m back home, like…you know you’re in control?” You were merely blabbering at this point, but then again, your brain loses control of your bodily functions when you're in close proximity with this man.

“You like being in control then?”

The tiny creaking sound coming from the floor tells you he’s taken a step closer to you, and the warmth coming from him is driving you insane. Damn this bloody dress of Catherine. You’re at a loss for words, neurons short-circuiting at both his question and how it’s equally chilly and hot at the same time in this small space.

It’s too much for you to handle, too much that you can't seem to find the appropriate words to voice out a reply, instead, you just turn around to face him. A gasp escapes your lips when you accidentally bump into his chest when you do so.

“Oh! Crap! I-I’m sorry…” You apologize meekly, fiddling with your hands and refusing to meet his eyes at all costs. The captain places your chin between his fingers and lifts your face for him to look at. He doesn’t say a word either, instead, just leans down and captures your lips in a feverish kiss.

Surprised – was an understatement. You hadn’t really expected him to call you over to the bridge and the next thing you knew he’s already kissing you. He immediately pulls away when you don’t reciprocate, apologizing profusely and mumbling about misplaced affections.

“No!” You exclaim, causing the captain to jump a little. You gather your courage and rub at your temples. “I mean…Captain V, your affections have not been misplaced, it’s just this…monster thing that has me acting like this the whole time, and I really have zero control over it and…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence as you feel his warm, moist lips on yours again. His strawberry-tasting lips glide over yours smoothly that you find yourself leaning towards him as you melt into the kiss. You’re first to pull away this time, breathless. “Forgive me, Countess…I’ve been wanting to do that since I first laid eyes on you on this ship,” he says, cupping your face as he rests his forehead against yours. “So beautiful,” Taehyung whispers against the shell of your ear and trails a finger from your cheek and eventually down to your collarbones as he ogles the cleavage Cat’s dress had generously given you tonight.

“Taehyung.” He places a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “Call me Taehyung, please.” He smooths his hand over your hips, tightening his grip as he pulls you closer and kisses you once more. You feel something hard against your stomach – oh. Your mouth parts when he starts to grind, slowly and devilishly against you and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

His gaze darkens when he sees the expanse of skin the slit of your dress reveals as you shift your legs, thigh now out in the open. Attaching his lips to yours again, Taehyung distracts you from the way his slender fingers dance their way up dangerously near your core.

Your head bows in embarrassment when you remember Mandy checking if you’d worn the right underwear earlier, ‘If they’re not lace, they have to go.’ So when she busted inside the bathroom as you were changing into Cat’s clothes earlier and saw your favorite cotton panties (with an embroidered flower on the front), she quickly rips the material in distaste, strongly suggesting that commando is the way to go. It won't be long until Taehyung discovers –

“No panties huh?” Taehyung observes, voice low and deep. “Yes,” you reply breathily, closing your eyes as you ignore how you're throbbing all over in such a short period of time. You try to regain your wits back, your first zing too overwhelming that everything seems like a haze.

With a new, albeit questionable, surge of courage, you move your hand to palm him through his pants. When Taehyung bares his neck to you to elicit a groan, your head subconsciously dips towards the spot where you feel his pulse the strongest. In an instant, your primal instincts begin to take over you, baring your fangs and grazing them dangerously against his skin.

Holy fuck.

This man was going to be the cause of your death.

It’s been a while since you’ve been in close proximity with a human, and being this close to the captain has stirred up something inside of you that you never knew still existed.

Back in the days when humans had mingled freely with your kind, witches had placed suppressants in the Tersnoan atmosphere so that a monster’s primal instincts won't ever be able to take over your diplomatic selves.

Now that you were much older with fully developed senses, being this close to a human with no suppressants whatsoever had inevitably awakened your inborn vampiric tendencies.

Needless to say, your generation of vampires had gone ‘vegetarian’ in a sense. Your lifestyle no longer consisted of hunting down people for food, but you opted for a healthier alternative and a more convenient source of food: coconut juice. Besides, human blood never really came in highly recommended by the older generations, claiming it tasted like loneliness and despair.

What they failed to warn you of, however, was how intense the urge was once you were only a hair-breadth away from a human being who is very much alive. The temptation was getting stronger by the second, and the pulse coming from Taehyung’s jugular vein was ringing loudly in your ears.

Both the desires of hunt and lust were slowly taking over you, your judgment, and your irises, and your lips quake ever so gently at the excitement coursing through your veins. As you feel your irises change its color from their natural ones, to purple then to gold afterwards, the surprise in Taehyung’s eyes has gotten prominent, yet, with astounding self-control, he manages to keep the rest of his body calm and collected.

He gulps at the small smirk that plays on your lips, “To answer your question, I like being in control,” you say lowly, grazing the tip of your nail against his jawline, “but only when the need arises so.”

For a moment, you sense his fright with your golden eyes and fangs on display, but you feel it dissipate quickly when you bunch his shirt in your fists and pull him closer to you. Taehyung then takes this as a cue to continue his torment of his featherlight touches, causing you to lean against the wheel as your head falls backward at the sensation.

Brazenly, he hooks a hand under your thigh and wraps your leg around his hip, allowing himself to grind harder against you, the friction of his dress pants against your bare heat sending you to a state of near delirium. The moment is cut short however as you both hear footsteps approaching the bridge. The captain puts your leg down as abruptly as he hooked his arm underneath it earlier.

As you wait for the two man-fish creatures to pass by the wheelhouse, you and the captain keep a modest gap between each other, letting the staff move across the bridge and until they take their positions by the front portion of the deck. Just as if the captain wasn’t groping you merely seconds ago.

The moment they’re out of sight, Taehyung closes the distance between the both of you, resting his weight on you as he presses you further onto the wheel of the ship. Subconsciously, you bite your lip as you feel his boner practically begging for your attention.

His actions are hastier this time around, and quite frankly, you're glad he has managed to equal the same level of urgency you had. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to hold onto your sanity with the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Else, you’d be taking the matter in your own hands.

Every contact of Taehyung’s skin with yours has you skin ablaze, and you’re unsure if it’s due to the (partly) shameful fact that you haven’t been this intimate with someone for the past few years that you're this responsive. He’s fondling your breasts with one hand, unabashedly tweaking and playing with your nipples. The other hand is busy squeezing your thighs, fingers dancing lightly across the exposed skin of your leg.

Your breath hitches as he unexpectedly cups your bare mound, digits swiping against your folds. Body quaking at the feeling, your body leans forward, but Taehyung has other plans, tugging you back harshly to his chest. “You think you can stay still for me sweetheart? You wouldn’t want my staff to think we’re christening the bridge, do you?”

Maybe, just maybe, the thought didn’t sound so bad?

“Oh?” Taehyung hisses when he feels your quick intake of breath at the thought. He finds your clit seconds later, rubbing the nub languidly, “you seem to like the idea, hmm?”

“Taehyung, please,” you beseech, leaning towards his touch and grinding your hips against his palm in desperation. You’re uncertain if this was an effect still caused by the zing but at this point, you just wanted a release from his relentless teasing and you’re more than willing to work for it if you have to.

The captain revels in your responsiveness and as a reward, he complies with your request, quickening his pace and toying your clit with more vigor than ever. Your hands, previously just as busy groping Taehyung, now shoots out to grip at the helm, your high approaching rapidly. He inserts a long, dexterous digit to accompany his other hand, helping you reach your climax faster. A second finger has you reeling, gripping the helm even tighter than before, knuckles turning white at the sheer strength. One kiss on your neck is all it takes, orgasming so hard that Taehyung has to hold you still lest you lose your balance.

You're still panting a minute later, having turned around and resting your hands on Taehyung’s chest for support. You both stay like that for a moment in each other’s arms, until you’re brought back to reality by the captain’s boner brushing against your tummy. “Can I?” you ask as you look up to him, thumbing the waistband of his dress pants.

“_______, darling, as much as I’d want to you right here, there’s too many of my staff roaming around the bridge for the night. And if these creatures walking about isn’t bothersome enough, it’s the fact that fish don’t blink either…so there’s that…” Taehyung states before placing a kiss on your shoulder. “If you desire so, I’d gladly continue this in my room…” the captain offers, looking at you expectantly as another pair of the fish men round the deck.

“I think we should go with that.”

He nods briefly, placing a wet kiss on your temple before taking your hand in his. Giddy as a teenager at the sight of her crush, you let him lead the way to his stateroom, unable to hide the shy smile on your lips. Once he leaves the wheelhouse to one of his first mates for the night, he squeezes your hand and continues on, palm contrastingly warm against yours as you walk to his room together.

“Did you enjoy the strawberries I had sent you earlier this evening?”

“Definitely. They’re one of the sweetest bunches I’ve tried in my life! Thanks for them by the way.”

“You did? They’re handpicked from our very own greenhouse on the ship!” Taehyung looks back at you with the brightest smile, eyes crinkling with the purest delight. Your heart crumples at the sight. How could the zing have possibly chosen this man for you – or worse, how are you supposed to deal with this type of duality?

One moment he’s brazenly fingering you inside the wheelhouse with blinkless staff roaming about and the next he’s talking about growing strawberries and how farming has been therapeutic for him. How is one man so devilish and wholesome at the same time?

Just like that, conversation flowed natural between the two of you: the similarities of having to run a hotel (as well as a heated debate on whether or not a hotel on land or on water is easier to manage), hobbies you enjoy on a spiritual level, and a few bits and pieces of him as Kim Taehyung and not the captain of The Legacy.

You’d just learned he doesn’t drink coffee, nor does he drink alcohol; he plays the saxophone and claims he’s pretty learned with the instrument; and that he loves taking photographs. In addition, he’d also told you about how he was born and raised in Korea hence the faint accent, but he’d grown up moving from place to place with his great-grandfather due to their family business, and that’s how their voyages helped him practice his English and even pick up a few foreign languages.

Your getting-to-know each other session is brought to a pause when the blonde-haired captain stops in front of a door in a dimly lit corridor. Quietly, he fishes for something inside his pockets, takes out his keycard and taps it against the door lock. Taking a peek from outside, you wait for him as he turns the lights on before following him inside.

Mouth agape as you enter, your eyes wander around his stateroom, marveling at the sheer grandeur of the captain’s living space. Just when you thought Catherine had given you and your friends the luxury of staying in a suite large enough to house a family of five, the captain’s stateroom on the other hand could easily pass for at least ten people.

Taehyung’s suite exactly looks like it came from a magazine spread, akin to a million-dollar apartment…at a high-rise residential tower…located in the middle of the busiest city in the world.

The captain lets you roam around his stateroom, a small smile playing on his lips as you gape over every detail in the room. It was modern interior design taking to a whole new level.

Monochromatic in a way, yet for some reason, he had it strategically designed to make it look more dynamic, alive somehow. You were no expert in the field of interior design, but with your modest experience in running a hotel (from choosing what type of cotton will be best for the beddings to organizing parties with more than a hundred participants), you could easily tell every nook and cranny of this room was heavily planned out.

Pointing at the stairs, you wordlessly ask for his permission if you could go up and check out the upper level. Taehyung doesn’t follow right after, momentarily heading to his kitchen. Significantly smaller than the lower floor, the second level houses his bedroom, with a heap of curtains serving as a divider and cover from those staying below.

His bedroom speaks more of him than any other part of the stateroom. Just as he mentioned earlier, there’s an open saxophone case on one corner, next to another black violin case. You also take notice of the makeshift tie hanger he’d made using the coat stand.

What truly catches your eyes though, is the array of photographs hung on the walls. It’s a mosaic of some sort, with photos spread from a corner then occupying half of the adjacent walls. Some are framed, some are printed on canvas, and a number are on photo paper and pasted on the beige wall. They’re caught on film, you reckon, with the distinct grainy resolution common amongst the photos.

Swiping your finger against the wooden frames of the pictures he’d hung, you study each photo thoroughly, trying to figure out the story behind each picture. There’s three more situated on his bedside table, Picking up the one with Taehyung smiling widely beside a boat’s mast.

“Ah, my first sail,” Taehyung says, taking a step near you. The tiny hairs on your nape stand at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. All of a sudden, you realize he’s standing too close – too close for you to remain sane.

You keep the framed photo in your hands, yet your thoughts have ultimately flown far away from whatever story was behind the picture; like how you hear his heart beat a little faster.

“Enough about me, countess,” the captain whispers as he places a hand over yours and guides yours back down to the bedside table. For a second there, you’d forgotten

For a second there, you’d almost forgotten he literally had the same fingers inside you just a few moments ago and that you’re now reminded of the main and sole purpose why you’re here in his bedroom.

“What about you?” Taehyung sets the strawberries down next to the photograph, then tucks a few strands of stray hair behind your ear. Each teasing touch is driving you closer to madness, like every move of his is calculated as if he knows he has this effect on you.

Lamely, you echo his words, “What about me?”

“Do you still want to look at more of my photographs or shall we continue what we started earlier?” It’s so awfully quiet inside the room that you basically hear yourself gulp at his proposal.

Weren’t your bodily reactions enough to serve as an answer?

You wanted to act less naïve (and appear a whole less desperate) that you’d imagined giving him a proper answer in your head, but here you were, stiff as a gargoyle statue, cowering beneath the warmth radiating off Taehyung.

Thoughts too haywire, you're unable to rack your brain for an appropriate reply, so you return the question to him: one with a double purpose – for him to ponder on and for you to recollect yourself. “What do you want?” Slowly, you turn to face him, bracing yourself for the hormonal uproar you are to experience.

The captain pouts cutely while in thought before darting his tongue out to lick at his lips. Taehyung gently brushes your hair over your shoulder, fingers subsequently tracing the outline of your collarbone. “I want,” he starts off, toying with the strap of your dress and wrapping it around his finger, “to take this off.”

Letting him slide the straps off your shoulders, you inhale deeply, anticipation doubling by the second. With your shoulders tense, the straps fall only until your elbows. Taehyung notices your hesitation and tenderly takes your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, tilting your head up so he could face you properly.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Feeling sorry for him having to deal with your worries, you cup his beautiful face in your hands, “I want to. I really do – it’s just…it’s been a while.”

You're grateful when he leans toward your touch, sending a soft smile your way. “Of course, darling, we’ll take it slow.” Relaxing your shoulders, the thin straps of your dress fall down the length of your arm with the rest of the fabric following shortly after.

Core throbbing immensely with want, you take initiative this time, claiming his mouth with a newfound sense of courage and urgency. Your knees threaten to give in when he matches the intensity of your kiss. With haste, you thumb at the zipper of his pants, causing him to trip on his own feet and fall forward.

The blonde-haired man brings you down to bed with him, stretching his arm out just in time to break his fall, making sure he’s not resting too much of his weight on you. “What happened to taking it slow?”

Taehyung is just as breathless when he helps you with your predicament with his pants. “Fuck it, there’s plenty of time for that later but I need you,” you pant, unable and unwilling to keep your hands to yourself – brushing against his clothed erection, sliding them against his defined chest, wrapping your hands by his neck to pull him closer to you…

“I need you now, inside me, please Tae…”

He withdraws from your body and kneels by the edge of the bed. Legs already shamefully spread and ready, Taehyung rummages through the drawers of his bedside table, looking for something. At the mention of condoms under his breath, you wave at him, trying to catch his attention.

He turns to you, eyebrows raised. “No need. Human sperm can’t get us pregnant anyways. Are you clean?”

“Got checked three weeks ago, that good with you?”

You nod your head, beckoning him over. Taehyung wastes no time, taking his boxers off to free his dick from the confines of his underwear. He crawls over to you and places a kiss on each of your thighs before taking his cock and sliding it against your wet folds.

He uses yours and his essences as lubricant, jerking himself off first before pushing the red tip of his shaft slowly. In consideration of your own pleasure, he doesn’t rush his entrance, just pushing slowly then drawing it back to prep you properly.

Taehyung continues with that, until your hand shoots out to grab him by his wrist, giving him a tug to let him know you’re ready. Silently, he nods, this time pushing his cock inside until he’s fully seated inside your warm walls. “So t-tight.” Taehyung shivers when you experimentally clench around him.

“Babe,” the captain breathes out while heat rises to your face at the term of endearment. “Please don’t do that again, fuck, I might just cum early if… if…” Taehyung falls silent again, groaning as you clench one more time, “you're just one naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you shrug your shoulders in reply, it’s like something inside Taehyung snaps because he gives you a playful smirk before thrusting harshly. You mewl at the feeling, fingers tugging at his hair in encouragement.

“Y-you're so big,” you cry out as he ruts his hips, the tip of his cock deliciously brushing against your sweet spot with every thrust. “Fuck,” Taehyung hisses, continuing the fluid motion of his hips, “your pussy was made just to take me then.”

He goes almost animalistic, thrusting even deeper, stronger as he chases his high. “Think you can cum with me sweetheart?” Taehyung queries, pushing his hair back when he feels the edges of his fringe tickle your cheeks.

Taehyung deftly finds your clit while he’d continued his torment with his hips, a single moan coming from your mouth is all he needs before proceeding with abusing your nether nub. It doesn’t take you both much after that, both your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, one after the other.

A few more hours into the evening and you find yourselves still tangled in each other’s bodies, worshipping each and every inch of skin as you get overcome by lust over and over again.

Taehyung collapses to your side after what seems like… in fact, you’ve actually lost count of how many times you’ve climaxed. Panting, he looks at you with a smile reaching his eyes, “That was…” He’s at a loss for words but when he hears laughter bubble out of you at his cuteness, he joins in.

The laughter dies down, yet you’re still staring at each other – no words needed to explain what had just transpired between the both of you tonight. You stay still and contented, basking in the euphoric bliss. He says he can't stay awake any longer, bidding you a good night’s sleep and sweet dreams.

You manage to stay awake though, on the contrary, swearing to yourself you’d just seen his eyes flash lavender before falling into a deep slumber.

Send me your thoughts? x

#bts smut #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #btsguild #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #btsghostie #houseofddaeng #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #kim taehyung scenarios #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts au fanfic #bts fluff

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lizzie-tempest · 4 years ago

Note

Like would Yandere! Sans (Undertale, Underswap, Swapfell, Underfell and Horrortale) try to seduce your reader? They can be Headcanon or Mini scenarios, I don't care! I like your blog so much.

AAAAAHHH! Thank you for your kind words! <3

sorry i got to this so late ;A;

Undertale

Sans tries to romance you like any boyfriend would. He wants to give the impression that he’s a lovable, funny guy. He doesn’t want you to see any of the bad parts of him and he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to find out just how many people he’s killed in order to keep you to himself.

He’ll make you laugh and take you on dates. He’ll be smooth af and will leave you a blushing mess at the end of the night.

It’s almost too easy to make you fall for him.

And if it was THIS easy to make you fall for HIM, how easy would it be for someone to take you away from him?

No, he can’t have that happen. He can’t lose you. You belong to him! His thoughts keep spiralling in this way until-

Your next date comes. Sans gets you a drink, but it only takes the one for you to start feeling like you’ve been drinking all night. What was in that drink?

You curl up in Sans’ lap, burying your head in his shoulder and close your eyes sleepily. He just chuckles, threading his phalanges in your hair as he teleports to his room, ensuring the door is locked.

He’ll keep you with him forever. Even if he has to keep you this way in order to make it happen.

Underswap

Absolutely tries to romance you. He pulls out all the stops in a bid to sweep you off your feet. All the effort that a normal boyfriend puts into Valentine’s Day? Yeah, that’s your life EVERY SINGLE DAY with Blue.

He brings you your favourite flowers, your favourite chocolates and candy, recites poetry, even jewellery that just happens to be the kind of thing you would wear!

I mean, it’s great and very flattering. But how the hell did he find out any of that stuff when you never told him? He must’ve found out from your friends and work colleagues.

It’s not like he’s stalking your every move and breaking into your house when your asleep so he can find out about what you like and don’t like (and he definitely doesn’t watch you sleep).

Underfell

Red...well, he tries. He does make an effort to try and romance you the old fashioned way.

It should be fine. He’s flirted with lots of women! Both human AND monster! Except, you’re not just any woman. You’re not like everyone else. And where women swoon normally when he flirts, the same tactic is not effective on you.

Unfortunately, you’ve had far too many men interact with you in this same way. You know how the game goes by now and you’re tired of being flirted with when you’re just trying to go about life. So Red’s flirting doesn’t score any points.

So he changes it up. He tries going with flowers and chocolates. Girls like that shit, right? Haha! Not in this case. The flowers give you hayfever, leaving you a sneezing mess. The chocolates had peanuts in, which you happen to be allergic to and Red freaks out when you go into anaphylactic shock and have to be rushed to hospital.

He feels awful about it, of course. So naturally he goes and visits you in the hospital.

This time though, he just plays it safe. He makes a card for you, saying both “Sorry” and “Get Well Soon” as well as picks up a little bunny plush. If there’s one thing he’s managed to learn about you, it’s that you love bunnies.

When he sees you, you’re kinda shocked at seeing him and you’re almost about to yell at him. But then this big intimidating looking skeleton monster with the sharpest teeth you’ve ever seen just bursts into tears.

He’s blubbering and sobbing out apologies and your heart just melts. It’s become obvious that he didn’t mean any ill intent. You kinda figured when he started freaking out the first time.

It’s when he sheepishly hands you the card and plushie that you realize just how cute he is. There’s a heartfelt apology inside and the plushie is so soft that you just love it instantly. He really isn’t like the other guys who’ve tried to romance you. He’s genuine. And so, you ask him on a date.

He’s so happy at this that it’s like watching a kid at Christmas. But on the inside, he’s calculating and trying to process everything he’s learned from this.

The whole world seems to be against you. You need to be protected. Not just from others who could take you away from him. You need to be protected from the world!

It’s okay. He’s here. He’ll take care of you.

Horrortale

Axe doesn’t bother with romancing you. He doesn’t have time for that and it’s just not his thing.

So he does what he does best. Hunting.

He catches you off guard. You’ll be walking home from work. It’s dark and there’s no one around. The perfect opportunity to whisk you away.

You don’t suspect a thing as he creeps closer. Axe has had plenty of time to become the perfect hunter and he puts his skills to use as he persues you. He doesn’t make a sound, he stays in the shadows. It’s almost like he’s hunting in the Underground again.

But this time he’s not hunting for food. He’s hunting his cute little mate.

And when he grabs and pulls you around a corner and into a shortcut, he can’t describe the joy he feels at having caught his prey mate. You’re completely helpless when he takes you to his basement. No one can hear your screams.

It’s okay. You’ll learn your place eventually. When you realize how dangerous this world really is, you’ll learn to love him and will come to appreciate all that he does for you.

If not?

Well, he has other ways of stopping you from escaping and keeping you in line.

Swapfell

Why would he bother trying to romance you? He is magnificent! You should be asking HIM on dates!

No! Don’t walk away! He didn’t say you could leave!

To put it simply, he tries to romance you. But the two biggest problems (besides the fact he’s a yandere) is his ego and how tsundere he is when trying to talk to you. It’s a double whammy with this skelly. He’ll say something utterly romantic and then throw an insult at you and you’ll be left reeling.

Black will carry on with this for so long that you eventually get tired of the emotional whiplash. You still like him, but you’re not sure if you can ever be romantically involved with him if he’s going to treat you like this.

You try and tell him this, but he won’t be listening. At least, he won’t be listening to the important parts. He’ll have selective hearing and will instead listen to the parts of the conversation that he can piece together to make it SOUND like you are trying to pursue him romantically.

You could say: “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can go on a date with you when you treat me like shit most of the time.

He will hear: “I can go on a date with you.”

He’ll block the rest of it out.

And if you try to protest, well he was able to train Mutt. He’ll have no trouble in making you into the obedient pet he knows you can be.

#anon ask #ask #imagine #yandere sans #undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #lizzie writes #lizzie imagines

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Transfer

Troy Bolton x Reader

Words: 4064

Summary: Moving schools isn’t easy. Moving to the rival school… Start of something new? Or complete disaster.

Notes: I will stop writing for Troy when my love for him ceases… so never. (This is another one that is going to deal with bullying, even more so than the last one, so if that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to move along)

Warnings: Cyber bullying, angst

Nobody knew. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself. Nobody knew you or anything that had happened. Granted, that also meant you didn’t know anyone either. Strangers passed you without a second glance. This was good. If nobody noticed you, they wouldn’t attack. If you stayed invisible, you stayed safe.

“Hey Chad, over here!” You were so busy looking at your new schedule that you didn’t see the basketball hurtling towards you. The ball hit you square in the chest, knocking the wind out of you and causing you to drop your books. “Oh gosh, I am so so so sorry.”

A boy crouched down in front of you, trying to gather up your papers before they were swept away under his classmates’ shuffling feet.

“It’s okay,” You gasped, stilling trying to catch your breath. He helped pick up the last of your things and held out his hand to help you up.

“I’m Troy.” He gave you a smile that would have made the entire cheer squad at West High swoon. You took his hand, feeling the blush on your cheeks.

“Y/N.” So much for staying invisible.

“Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt.” The apologetic puppy face was almost as cute as his smile.

“I’ll be fine. I probably should have been paying more attention.” You laughed nervously.

“And I should have caught the ball.” As he handed your things back to you, he caught a glimpse of your schedule. “Hey, you have Mrs. Darbus for homeroom!”

“Um, yeah, I was trying to find her room.” You anxiously tucked a hair behind your ear.

“I can show you.” He offered, that gorgeous smile returning. “My friends and I have her too.”

“Drop something?” A blonde girl wearing the pinkest jacket you had ever seen held out Troy’s basketball. His smile strained.

“Thanks Sharpay.” Her vicious gaze turned on you.

“And who are you?” And here you thought all the scary girls went to West High.

“I-uh-I’m-” You stuttered. Troy came to the rescue.

“Look at the time! We’re all going to be late for homeroom if we don’t hurry.” He quickly ushered you away from Sharpay, helping you steer through the herd of students to Mrs. Darbus’ room.

“Who was that?’ You whispered as seats started to fill up.

“That was Sharpay Evans. The evil queen of East High. Just stay off her bad side and you should be fine.” He shuttered, grabbing his usual desk. All the seats around Troy were filled so you picked an empty desk in the back row. The scary blonde, along with a few other late comers got in the door just as the bell rang.

“Troy, pass it.” One of the guys held out his hand. Troy threw him the basketball and he proceeded to spin the ball on his finger. “You ready for the game?” He grinned.

“Are you kidding? The Knights are so going down.” Troy made a hoop with his arms and his friend tossed the ball in. The room pretended to cheer and you couldn’t help but smile at the antics. Your teacher wasn’t as amused.

“Mr Danforth, Mr. Bolton, it seems you’ve lost your way to the court. This is a classroom. I will be seeing you two superstars-”

“In detention.” They finished grimly.

“You must be new.” The girl next to you whispered. “She had gorgeous brown hair and a kind smile. “I know how you feel. I moved here last year. I’m Gabriella.”

“I’m Y/N.” Your cell phone buzzed in your pocket. You opened up your messages, feeling that awful icy dread that you had tried to get away from.

“Miss Y/L/N, correct?” Mrs. Darbus stood over you, holding a bucket.

“Y-yes.”

“While your former school may have allowed electronics, I certainly do not.” She motioned to your phone. You slumped in your chair and dropped it into the bucket.

“Sorry ma’am.”

“Not to worry I’m sure you’ll make plenty of new friends in detention.” She returned to the front of the room. You didn’t dare argue, burying your face in your hands with a sigh. You felt the words of the message resonate in your head.

You can run. But you can’t hide.

Detention didn’t seem so bad. You mostly just had to help paint sets for the end of the year one-act. You had your face buried behind a picket fence when a pair of blue eyes peaked at you between the boards.

“Need some help?” Troy offered, leaning over the fence.

“Be careful of the paint!” You exclaimed before his hands got covered. You swiped your arm across your forehead and Troy started to snicker. “What?”

“You’ve got a little…” He motioned to the spot above your eyebrow. Horrified, you scrambled to find a rag to clean off the paint. Troy laughed, but not in a mocking way. You couldn’t help but laugh with him. How long had it been since you laughed with someone? Let alone an outrageously cute guy?

“I meant to say thanks earlier, for helping me find Mrs. Darbus’ class.” You said, getting back to work on the fence.

“It’s the least I could do after missing the ball.” He sat down next to you and grabbed a brush to help.

You heard an outburst of laughter from across the stage and winced. You whirled your head around and saw a group of students messing around with funny looking masks from the costume trunk. You exhaled slowly to calm down. They weren’t laughing at you.

“You okay?” Troy wondered, noticing your sudden change in demeanor. You forced a smile and said your well rehearsed line.

“I’m fine.”

For the first time, somebody saw through it. Troy may not have given any indication, but he could tell that something had upset you. He just nodded and smiled.

“Are you coming to the game this weekend?” He changed the topic excitedly, hoping to distract you from whatever had made you upset.

“I don’t know yet.” You sighed. “I have a lot to catch up on and stuff to set up.” His face fell into that adorable pout and you just couldn’t say no. “I can try and squeeze it in.” His eyes lit up.

“Great!” Through his excitement, a slightly shy smile crept onto his lips. “I was kind of hoping that you’d want to get a pizza or something after the game?”

You tried to keep your jaw from dropping.

“Are you… asking me out?” You gasped. He grinned.

“Yeah. I guess I am.” His fingers brushed against yours as both reached for the paint. You blushed.

“Then, um, yeah. I’d love to go out with you after the game.” You were smiling brighter than you had in a long time, but still, a little voice in your head was telling you this was a bad idea. Stay invisible. Stay invisible.

“Awesome.” Troy was beaming, making that little voice of doubt disappear. “I promise, I play much better than what you saw in the hall.” You both laughed. Wow he has a nice laugh.

Mrs. Darbus announced that the time was up and that all prisoners of detention were free to go. Honestly, you were kind bummed. With Troy helping you with the fence, you were actually having a good time. You had a skp in your step as you walked home.

“Hi mom! Hi dad!” You greeted, snatching an apple for a snack. Your mom’s voice called from the backyard.

“Hey! How was your first day?” She was elbows deep in tulip bulbs even though it was late January. Then again, you were in New Mexico.

“Really god, actually.” You grinned. “I met some really nice people and got invited to the basketball game this weekend.”

“Woah, what happened to laying low for a while?” She rubbed the dirt off her hands on her apron. Her usual perky cheerleader smile was gone, replaced by a glare of concern. “You know the basketball game is against West High, don’t you?”

“I-” You hadn’t thought about that. Trying to seem confident, you crossed your arms. “I can’t hide forever, mom.”

“Those girls are going to be there.” She said, putting her hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t it be better to just stay home and not drag out the skeletons in your closet?”

“They’re just cheerleaders, mom! They aren’t hitmen.” You exclaimed. You knew that this was more about protecting her pride than your own.

“Yeah, well, you used to be one of them and look how that turned out.” the disappointed stare she gave you hurt, but you tried not to show it.

“I'm going to the game and I'm going out for pizza afterwards with one of my new friends.”

“Is that new friend a boy?” She spat. You ignored her.

“I’m going whether that fits your little ‘laying low’ plan or not.” You stormed off, but not before you heard her muttering under her breath.

“Haven’t you humiliated me enough?”

The next day, you walked with your head down. Your mother’s pessimism had definitely brought your sunny mood back down to earth. Leave it to her to ruin the one good thing you’d had in months. Your attempts to disappear worked well for the fist two periods. Nobody even noticed that you were there.

Of course, that only lasted until Gabriella spotted you. The bubbly brunette was quick to join you while you tried to navigate your way to your next class.

“I heard you’re going to the basketball game!” She said excitedly. “I didn’t think I was much of a sports person, but the school spirit here makes everything exciting.”

“Yeah, I'm not sure.” You shrugged. After all, half of your classmates from West High would be there, including the girls that started all this. Rob would be on the court, playing against Troy. Oh no.

“Well you are welcome to come with me and Taylor. We’re going to have a movie night afterwards, too.”

“I’m- uh- I’m supposed to be grabbing dinner with Troy after the game.” You muttered, the excitement of the date having faded into dread.

“You have a date with Troy Bolton?” A shrill voice joined the conversation, stopping you in your tracks. The terrifying blonde was giving you an icy cold stare. “That was quick.”

“I think it's sweet.” Gabriella countered. She gave you a smirk. “Who knows? Maybe it was love at first sight.” Your eyes fell to the tiled floor.

“I think he was just being nice.” Your grim tone made her give you a look of concern. Sharpay smiled sarcastically.

“Well isn’t that just like our Troy?” Her sneer made her annoyance very clear. She put her hands on her hips and began a deeper interrogation. “You’re from West High, aren’t you?” Before you could even answer, she continued. “Won’t that be awkward, coming to the basketball game? Why did you transfer? It’s a little weird, right? Transferring a month into the semester?”

“Okay!” Gabriella exclaimed. “I think it’s time we all get to class, don’t you think?” Sherpa was clearly irked by the interruption and tossed her hair over shoulder.

“I guess I’ll just see you both at the game.” She strutted away and you exhaled the breath you had been holding.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about her.” Gabriella shrugged. “Sharpay is usually all bark and no bite.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” You said to yourself.

After third period, it was time for lunch. You found the same empty table that you sat at the day before. You were used to eating alone by now.

Somewhere in the lunchroom, a phone dinged, followed by laughter. You flinched, waiting for the taunting to start. Like before, however, they weren’t really laughing at you. Keeping your head low, you tuned out the loud chatter of the cafeteria. For a while, it really felt like you were invisible. Invisible and alone.

“Mind if I join you?”

You looked up and found Troy giving you a sweet smile. You shrugged in reply and he took that as confirmation that something was wrong. He sat down beside you as you toyed with the green beans on your plate.

“Gabriella told me about Sharpay. She said you seemed pretty upset.” His words only elicited another shrug. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m here if you do.”

“I can’t go to the game.” You blurted.

“What? Why?”

“I just can’t, Troy.” You kept your face down, so he couldn’t see your tears. “I can’t go out with you either.”

“Y/N, if I said something wrong-”

“Can’t you see I’m doing you a favor?” You slammed your hand down on the table and you finally looked up to see his hurt expression. You almost took it back. Then your phone buzzed ominously and you grabbed your backpack. “I’m really sorry, Troy. But if they saw us together, if they thought I was happy-”

“Who are you talking about?” He was worried now. “Who’s they?”

“Forget I said anything and just… forget me.” Clutching your phone in a tight fist, you ran out of the cafeteria.

You weren’t sure if Troy followed you or not as you sprinted down the halls of East High. You didn’t read the text until you got out to the parking lot. There weren’t any words. Just that stupid video.

It was the cheer squad’s Christmas party. There had been some tension between you and the other girls, but you hadn’t thought much of it. ‘Girls as close as you are bicker.’ your mom had said. So you went to the party.

Amber, the cheer captain and your supposed best friend, told you that Rob Mannington wanted to talk to you. She knew how much of a crush you had on him. Problem was, so did she.

When you found Rob, you thought the two of you were alone. He took off your jacket and said a bunch of sweet things as he leaned in for a kiss.

“I can’t do this.” He burst out laughing, pushing you away. Other girls from the cheer squad appeared, cackling like a bunch of Prada clad hyenas. Hurt and humiliated, you ran.

After that, it just got worse. Text messages, online harassment, and eventually, someone took a picture in the locker room and posted it all around the school. Your mother immediately had you transfer to East High. She was ashamed of you and blamed you for the loss of her social status. She didn't care that you lost everything.

You let out a frustrated and hopeless scream and threw your phone as hard as you could against the concrete. The device broke apart and you stared at it. It wasn’t until you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder that you let yourself cry.

You turned around and were in Troy’s embrace without objection. You let this sweet and caring boy hold you tight while you sobbed. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He was just there.

“Wow.” Troy blew out a long breathing, running his fingers through his hair. “And these were your friends?”

“I thought they were.” You sighed, wiping a fallen tear off your cheek.

After your break down at lunch, Troy told you to meet him for homeroom. He told Mrs. Darbus that you were going through some stuff and needed a friend. So he brought you to his favorite spot in the whole school; the roof. And you told him everything. It was the first time that you’d really talked about what happened with anyone and it was nice to get it off your chest.

“I’m really sorry that happened to you.” Troy put his hand on top of yours. “And I totally understand if you don’t want to come to the game. What those West High kids did… I can’t imagine what it was like.”

“I felt like my whole life- all the cheerleading camps, the coaching from my perfect mother, kissing up to every spoiled girl with pom poms- it all meant nothing.” You were quiet for a moment, Troy’s thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. With a deep breath and your head held high, you made your decision. “I’m going to that game.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get thrown back into everything because of me.” The concern in his voice was more than either of your parents had shown. You gave him a small, but confident smile.

“No. I’m tired of hiding from them. I’m done being invisible.” With your new confidence, you leaned over and kiss his cheek.

Troy’s face turned a light shade of pink as he grinned.

“What was that for?’ He wondered sheepishly. Your smile was sincere.

“For being the first real friend I’ve had in seventeen years.” You leaned your head on his shoulder and he entwined his fingers with yours. You had only known him for two days, but he already seemed to understand you better than anybody else in your life.

He turned slightly and pressed his lips on top of your hair, lingering there for a moment. Troy couldn’t understand his own feelings, but after less than 48 hours, you seemed to have won over the basketball captain’s heart.

You couldn’t hide that you were nervous. From the sounds of it, the gym was already pretty full. Even from outside the doors, you could hear the West High cheer section warming up. Gabriella gave you an encouraging smile to try and calm your nerves.

“Remember, there is always plan B.” She said, reminding you of the message Troy had sent earlier.

I can’t wait to see you in the stands tonight! Don’t forget you can alway sleeve if you need to. Gabriella is all set for an emergency escape. Look for #14. I’ll see you then!

You wished he was with you, but he belonged with his team. You could do this. Rob, Amber, the other cheerleaders; none of them mattered anymore. They could taunt you all they wanted, but you weren’t alone. Besides, watching the Wildcats whoop the Knights would be the perfect way to leave them all behind.

Gabriella grabbed your hand and navigated through the crowd to get inside. The air was buzzing with excitement and you let the energy charge through you. When Amber’s eagle eyes spotted you, you just kept walking.

After finding a good spot in the student section, you waited s the time ticked by. The gym was filling up, but you could still see Amber whispering to the other girls and pointing in your direction. You inhaled sharply and looked away, feeling the panic begin to resurface.

“Look, there he is.” Gabriella was almost drowned out by the cheering crowd as the Wildcats ran onto the court. Sure enough, at the front of the pack of jerseys was #14. As the team warmed up, he scanned the crowd. He shot the ball into the hoop and gave you a big grin.

Then entered the Knights. When you spotted Rob, you didn't feel those school-girl butterflies you used to get whenever you saw him. Now you were just angry. You were just a joke to him. Before you could look away, he saw you. With a smirk, he made a basket.

Troy noticed the change in your expression and followed your gaze to the cocky player across the court. He felt a rush of defensive determination. He would make sure that the boy who broke your heart wouldn’t be making any points tonight.

The game started off well for the Knights, with a basket and two foul throws. Their cheerleaders yelled and shook their pom-poms. You couldn’t help but feel like Amber’s sporty sneers were meant for you.

Rob had stolen the ball and was sprinting towards the hoop. He threw it to one of his teammates, but a flash of red cut in between them. The crowd roared as Troy made it down the court for a basket.

“Yeah Troy!” You shouted. Rob must have picked out your voice because he sent a furious glare in your direction. You just smiled.

It was almost half time and the score was tied. Troy was guarding Rob as he dribbled down the court.

“So Y/N’s your groupie too, huh Bolton?” He snapped. Troy tensed.

“Just play the game, Mannington.”

“You know, I almost regretted rejecting her like that…” he smirked, “after that picture came out.” With Troy seething, he shoulder checked him out of the way and passed the ball for his teammate to score. The buzzer went off.

“That marks halftime here folks; Wildcats 22, Knights 24.”

East High fans breathed a collective sigh as the teams made their way into the locker rooms.

“What’s wrong with Troy?” Gabriella wondered. You watched him storm angrily into the locker room, his whole body shaking furiously. Whatever Rob had said had set him off and a deep fear settled in your head.

What did Rob tell him?

You bit your lip anxiously. If Troy made this free throw, they would tie the score again.

“Come on Troy.” You uttered.

He took a few deep breaths and quickly glanced up at you. He had to make this. He inhaled slowly and dedicated his focus to the hoop ahead of him. As he exhaled, he made the shot. As the ball swished in the net, the fans cheered loudly.

Now it was the Knights’ ball and with less than a minute on the clock, it was a mad dash to stay out of overtime. Rob was going in for the shot. He planted his feet and tossed the ball. It seemed like the whole gym was holding its breath.

The ball just bounced off of the rim and Troy snatched it out of the air, earning a chorus of cheers from the crowd. He passed the ball to Zeke who bounded to the basket and dunked the ball for the winning points.

The buzzer was lost in the shouts from his team and from the ecstatic fans. Disappointed West High fans started to file out of the gym while East High students and families flooded the court. Troy was pulled into a crushing hug by his parents, his eyes searching the faces of people nearby. It took him awhile to find you, but he wasn’t the only one.

“Rob told me that you found a new guy to creep on.” Amber laughed. “The captain of the basketball team? Really, Y/N, don’t you think that’s aiming a little high? You don’t really think that dreamboat Troy Bolton would be interested in someone like you?” Troy, hearing the conversation, stepped in.

“Hey are you ready to go?” He put a hand on your arm affectionately. Startled by his sudden appearance, you just nodded. “Great! I’m going to go shower and I’ll be back out soon.” He looked at Amber. “Can you believe it? This amazing girl transfers to East High and she agrees to go out with me. I must be crazy lucky or something, I know.”

Baffled, Amber stomped off to find her posse. You just look at Troy, stunned. Was he just saying all that to get her to go away? As if he read your mind, he took your hand in his and brought it up to his lips.

“I meant it.” He said and you got lost in his sincere eyes.”I am super lucky that you wound up at East High. That I found you.” A grin spread across his face. “And I am very excited for our date.”

“Oh, so we are officially calling it a date?” You teased. He laughed.

“That’s what I was hoping for yeah.” You paused, your smile dropping a little.

“Troy, what did Rob say to you just before half time?” You waited for him to say some rumor that had been spread from your school. Something awful that he would never forgive you for. Troy just smiled and shook his head.

“Nothing important.” He thought for a moment before quickly kissing your cheek. When he stepped back, you were beaming. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” He started to push through the people around you. “And Troy?”

“Yeah?” His smile could have knocked you off your feet.

“I’m lucky I found you too.”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#troy bolton x reader #WHAT TEAM?#WILD CATS #zac efron #high school musical #getcha head in the game #troy bolton #disney imagines #childhood #living out my childhood #sorry not sorry

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umbraastaff · 5 years ago

Text

Till Death, Don’t Let’s Start

Chapter 1

“This is kind of a bad time.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Barry,” says the possessed collection of boulders that’s about to punch him. “Were you hoping I’d come back when it’s more convenient for you?”

The incoming stone ‘fist’ collides with a skeletal hand. It’s larger than the lich itself, and yet it stops in place, with a shower of red sparks where they make contact. “A lich can dream.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for that in the Astral Plane,” Kravitz says, trying again to slam down. This time, he meets an invisible shield and keeps pushing. He can feel the magic that’s blocking him, and it is unyielding.

“Right. Yeah. There’s big magic here,” Barry continues, as though Kravitz is an idea soundboard and not a deadly enemy. His free hand--the one that isn’t blocking Kravitz--keeps waving in complicated patterns, some of which the reaper can recognize. Divinations, spells not unlike Detect Magic. “Thought it was the--a--a grand relic, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“And yet you’re sticking around.”

“Well, I--Wouldn’t you want to know what it is?” Barry stares intently at the ground. “I know I’ve felt something like this before, but--but not here. I just can’t place it...”

A flurry of gigantic stones comes raining down on the lich. An outward blast of force repels them all. He huffs like it’s an inconvenience.

“Look, can’t you just...” his idly casting hand completes another divination. “...Wait. Do that again.”

“I--” That’s enough to bewilder Kravitz out of the next strike. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s--I think it’s reacting to our--look, I know you don’t give a shit. Just do your normal thing, easy! Throw more rocks, or something.”

Kravitz considers this. Chances are a hundred to one that Barry’s just doing some ineffable scientific bullshit, and it isn’t going to affect Kravitz at all. But he’s also a very smart lich, and it could just as easily be a trap. “...No.”

“What--okay--don’t hit me, then?”

“Are you really going for reverse psychology, after that?”

“No offense, my man, but you’ve fallen for worse.” Barry sighs, and he raises a hand into the air. Red lightning starts to gather at his palm, blindlingly lit and erratically sparking.

Kravitz steps back, cautious. “Excuse me? Give me one example.”

“That’d be telling,” Barry says coyly. “Anyway, no worries. I’ll do it myself.”

He slams his fist into the ground. The sheer volume of necrotic energy that sweeps through Kravitz makes him want to retch. He sees plantlife ripple miles away, shuddering from its power.

“WHAT in the HELL, Barry Bluejeans!”

“Shush!” Barry says quickly, casting another divination. “Ha! Yes!”

“Are you quite done,” Kravitz snaps, and doesn’t wait for an answer before hurtling another magicked rock.

It shatters as it hits the robe. Barry, still deep in concentration, doesn’t even flinch. “...Oh. No.”

“No?”

“No!” Barry repeats, flying up towards Kravitz’s construct ‘head.’ “We--We gotta go, bud, we--”

The ground begins to shake beneath Kravitz, rumbling and shifting in ways that feel unnatural for an earthquake. Flat earth starts arching into a hill, cracking chunks of dirt and felling trees as it does.

Kravitz starts to get the distinct feeling that he forgot something about this place, something from a terribly long time ago.

“--We gotta MOVE! KRAVITZ! Get outta those fuckin’ rocks and GO!”

“You think you can scare me with some Thaumaturgy-level, hokey?” Kravitz taunts, but it isn’t with all the confidence it should have. Then Barry reaches through him.

Kravitz feels his soul, his very essence, dragged forcibly into a vulnerable state. Outside of the protection of his body, held firm by someone who could destroy him from here. Instead, though, Barry flings Kravitz into the sky.

Disoriented, Kravitz follows his instincts, and cover manifests around the ball of light. His skeleton forms, and then the rest of his projected form. Below, the rocks he was possessing all fall apart, crashing down into the grass and rolling away as the earth keeps moving.

From below them both, there’s a deep rumbling. The volume is overwhelming, destructive, and it takes a few seconds to pinpoint what it is: a roar.

“BARRY FUCKING BLUEJEANS, IS THAT A--”

“Dragon! It’s a dragon, I-I fucked up, I woke it up!” Barry says quickly, panicked. “It’s gonna be mad at me, but if you get outta here, it might not pick up on your goddamn--scent or whatever it picks up on, I don’t care--”

“Sounds like we’re on the same side, then,” Kravitz says, still midway through his effort to regain his composure.

“I--what--you’re actually gonna help me?”

Kravitz summons his scythe. “No.”

“Oh, I see. You meant the--the, uh. You meant you’re allying with the dragon,” Barry says, flying further away. “Which is stupid, by the way! You’re fuckin’ insufferable!”

“Then quit! I can get us both away from the dragon, you know,” Kravitz offers.

Scales start showing between the breaking chunks of earth. They shine bright red in the sunlight.

“IT’S FUCKING CHROMATIC, KRAVITZ!”

Kravitz isn’t stupid. He knows how dangerous a dragon can be. But he also knows that he himself has a foolproof means of escape. And if Barry’s dealing with an entire dragon in the meantime, it could throw him off just enough to give Kravitz an opening. All he’s ever needed was one successful swipe.

The dragon rears its furious head, finally breaks free of the earth it slept under for centuries, maybe millennia. The lich that woke it immediately has its attention, and the attention of a dragon is something one never wants.

Barry dives and weaves between blasts of fire and gnashes of giant teeth. Kravitz keeps out of the dragon’s direct line of sight, but when he sees an opening, he flies in.

It’s the fastest and most serious way he’s ever seen Barry deflect him. His scythe goes flying out of his own hands, and a large chest manifests in the air just long enough to snap shut over the weapon. Then it’s gone.

“Nice try,” Kravitz says, summoning the scythe again. It doesn’t come.

Barry must have some powerful wards on that extradimensional box, if a reaper can’t summon a soulbound weapon from it.

“Well, that was my exit,” Kravitz says bitterly, now considerably more on edge. He stays further back from Barry and the dragon, trying to formulate a plan to deal with this without his scythe.

“I will make you a portal myself if you’ll fucking go through it!”

“What’s your goal here?” Kravitz retorts. Admittedly, it’s a little mesmerizing, watching Barry fly around in an almost practiced routine. Like he’s done this before, even though no dragons have threatened Faerun for far longer than he has existed. Still, even a lich like him won’t ever take down a dragon. “How are you going to stop this thing on your own?”

“Oh, like you’d suddenly up and make yourself valuable help?” Fire nicks him. “Shit!”

“Well, I wasn’t just going to leave a fucking dragon loose on the world after I caught you, and I’m still not going to do it now!”

“I-I can’t trust you,” Barry says, and he has the nerve to sound sad. “Stop.”

Kravitz suddenly finds that his body doesn’t much want to move. He feels, actually, that he’d be quite better off if he stopped, and didn’t move a single muscle, even though every other thought in his mind is screaming that he needs to move. He has the feeling that, if he had a need for air right now, his lungs wouldn’t even expand.

The dragon is no fool, but Barry can at least keep it going in circles. He throws strings of magic off himself, luring the dragon upwards, and striking at its neck and underbelly. Then it’ll face him again, and he’ll shoot into its mouth. Repeat.

Kravitz, forced to watch, sees the pattern complete a few times, though Barry’s smart enough to change up how he executes it each time.

When they come towards the reaper once more, he sees the dragon break pattern. Its head levels with Barry early, while he’s still facing away from it.

“Careful!” Kravitz shouts instinctively, drawing Barry’s attention.

And the dragon’s.

The dragon faces Kravitz, and now he can see the fire it was building up in its jaws to attack Barry. He can see its eyes, too: it is far too furious to care about attacking someone other than its target. But his terror won’t allow him to move.

Barry flies in front of Kravitz. Kravitz sees his skeletal face, hollow and shaded. And then all he sees is fire.

It goes right through Barry, but it doesn’t hit Kravitz nearly as hard as it should. It is searing, yes, painful beyond imagining, but it does not decimate him the way dragon fire should.

The same cannot quite be said for Barry. His form flickers and glows something horrible. The flaming energy boils from within, threatening to destroy him, and he... spins around.

The energy flies back out of himself, now in enormous tethers of red lightning that coil around the beast. The dragon’s flight gets closer to the ground, until it crashes into the ground, sleepy or subdued or both.

But Barry looks worse than Kravitz has ever seen him. He’s always so composed for a lich, and now he’s only barely holding himself together. But it still isn’t like what he’s seen from other liches. He’s focused: his mind is present.

He’s just... discombobulating. Falling apart from that blast, and desperately trying to keep it together.

Kravitz can see the dragon on the ground, thrashing and struggling against its bindings, soon to be free once more.

“Krav--Kravitz,” Barry says urgently, his voice splitting and shaking and fighting so hard to stay comprehensible. “I--I know we’re not--it’s--please,” he tries, like he’s aiming to speak a whole hour’s worth of words when he has mere moments.

He’s coming undone. He grabs Kravitz’s hand, and it’s now that Kravitz realizes he’s allowed to move again. He lets Barry take it anyway, even though it would be so easy to brush off that feeble, shaking grasp.

He feels something cool pressed over his index finger, and when he looks down to see it, something hits his chest. He’s shoved back, and he sees the rim of a portal, and realizes he’s being pushed through one of Barry’s making.

“Barry--” the sky is the same. They’re still on the Material Plane, just a different part of it. A place where the dragon isn’t. (Yet.)

Barry takes his hand again, claps both skeletal hands around it. “Please don’t fuck me over on this one, Krav,” he says, and then his form completely dissipates. Barry is gone.

Kravitz stares at where Barry was for a few moments. And then he looks around. He’s on the outskirts of some city, now on the ground. Not making a spectacle by popping out of a portal in the sky, at least.

He tries for his scythe. It still won’t come.

And on his oustretched hand, on the index finger, there’s a ring. Pale tracings of a tiny, complex sigil encircle the rim. And in the center, there’s a small, red gemstone.

[Part 2]

#the adventure zone #taz balance #taz kravitz #barry bluejeans #mine #writes #my writing #tbc?#till death dont lets start

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yannasunflower · 4 years ago

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dust to dust | chapter two

chapter one | chapter two

ao3

You don't know what makes you save Kuroo Tetsurou's life. All you know is there is no world to save anymore, but damn if you're just stupid enough to try.

Genre: hurt/comfort/romance/angst Rating: Mature, subject to change (gore, violence) Kuroo x fem!Reader Word count: 3.5k

hey everyone! here's chapter two, as promised. this fic is also cross-posted to AO3, where i'm under the same username. linked above as well! next chapter, action picks up, plot picks up, and we get more Kuroo, promise. enjoy, and as always, please reblog, like, and comment <3

Nobody ever told you how absolutely boring a zombie apocalypse could be.

Your ragtag group of survivors have scavenged what entertainment they can - books and gym equipment, even a few board games. People like Suga and Takeda keep busy with the children, teaching them to read and garden and how to survive if mommy and daddy never come back for them.

You open one lazy eye as a gaggle of them stumble after Suga, hanging on to his every word.

You’re not sure how the two men handle placing a long knife in a child’s chubby hand, fingers barely able to grip it,and showing them how to strike right at a nighstalker’s heart, fast and deep. Their giggles float through the air and the sound is almost dreamlike and if you keep your eyes closed, you can pretend this is a movie and when you open them, the credits will roll and you can go home.

Others tend to the elderly, of which there are only three in your group. You try to keep them comfortable and as far from danger as possible. But your body constantly prickles with the knowledge that they aren’t just vulnerable - they are a vulnerability. A hole in the brick wall you are attempting to build around this little community.

The healthy and fit young people patrol and take rotations on the watchtowers. Teenagers help with the lessons. Takeda had been firm about this. Once a kid turned seventeen, they were allowed to join the patrols, but until then, they stayed sequestered away.

It was almost comical, telling a tall, strong, angry Tobio that he had to mind the children. He towers over you, but he had bent to your will after a brief glaring contest. And then a week later, Shoyo had bounded into everyone’s hearts, including his, and the pair were inseparable.

Kiyoko, for her part, had taken one look at Yachi, shivering at Hinata’s side, and adopted her, sweeping her under a protective wing and keeping her there.

For people like you, who have no “bedside manner” as Kiyoko puts it, there are chores and day to day mini emergencies to keep you busy. Somehow, in the months since the world finally decided to fall apart, you have become mediator and negotiator. It’s an unlikely role; you can see your mother’s arched brow if she was still alive to see you now.

You barely have the patience for grocery shopping.

She would have laughed, elbowing your father, who would have made a valiant attempt at a straight face.

These are useless memories but you allow yourself to indulge for a moment. You have nothing better to do. Lunch is cooking, inventory has been completed, the guard rotation is set for the next two weeks. Ukai had waved you off this morning when you finally managed to corner him, complaining about your ceaseless energy and the “mad glint” in your eye. His words.

“That look means trouble for me,” he had growled, pointing an accusing finger at you. “Go to your cell and get some sleep for the love of anything you find holy.” Without another word, the man had leaned against a wall, put his feet up on his desk, and closed his eyes. A clear dismissal. You tried not to huff but you definitely stomped a little bit on the way out.

You don’t know how to tell him that staying in your cell, with your eyes closed, is inviting the living nightmares. You don’t know how to tell anyone, really, that you are just as haunted as this prison, as Daichi’s eyes.

That the only holy thing left in this world is fear and if you succumb to that, you’ll never move again.

You let a sigh tumble out of you. Forcibly, you shove your thoughts in another direction.

It had been a week since you brought home your latest stray. Kuroo had spent the first three days doing little else but sleep and eat. Daichi has taken to walking him around the Pit every day, explaining the way things work, and Suga showed him his pride and joy just yesterday. Kuroo had been suitably impressed by the garden, if the generous second and third helpings Suga thought he was sneaking to him at dinnertime were anything to go by.

The man has filled out nicely. He looks less skeleton, more human after sleep and hot food. You had peeked in on him in the grey of dawn that morning after Daichi not-so-subtly hinted that Kuroo had been asking about you.

He sleeps curled up on his side, hair falling against his cheek. In another world, you would have taken a picture.

Kiyoko tells you that the men like him, that Tanaka has stopped regarding him with all the wariness of a stray cat, and that she’s pretty sure Yachi has a crush on him.

You open your eyes into a blazing afternoon, unsurprised to see the subject of your thoughts stretching in the courtyard, the weak sunlight rippling over his bare arms. His black hair is messy as ever and you are struck all over again by how tall he is.

Tobio got a new babysitter, you think with no small amount of amusement. The gangly teenager needs someone to keep him in line and frankly, you don’t have the time and Hinata is just as likely to suggest some stupid shit for them to get into as he is.

You are still stretched out like a cat on a bench, letting the sun warm you, half-hoping it will lull you into a nap.

It’s boredom, more than anything, that makes you turn your head toward Kuroo.

“If you’d like to get some exercise, we have equipment. I’m sure Noya can show you,” you call.

Kuroo jumps and swivels to look at you, eyes wide and so, so dark. You look away. Something about him is like staring at the sun; too long, and your eyes burn.

“Didn’t see you there,” he admits easily, sauntering over to your bench. You eye his approach, noting that he really must be feeling a lot better. His movements are more fluid now, lean muscles becoming apparent on his shoulders.

Daichi has blessed every woman, and a few men, in the Pit by finding Kuroo a pair of grey joggers and a muscle tank top for everyday wear.

“I don’t do well with sitting still,” he says, leaning over you. His head casts you in shadow, blotting out the sun. “This is something I think you can understand.”

Up close, you can see that the shadows beneath his eyes are retreating gradually. His smile looks less like a grimace today.

You hum, swinging your legs over the bench and sitting up. Blood rushes from your head and you lean back against your palms. Kuroo lowers himself to sit next to you.

“Daichi forces me to limit my rotations on the guard towers and patrols,” you answer. “When we first found this place and cleaned it out, I was working overtime and made myself sick. Him and Kiyoko have been conspirators against me ever since.”

Your fingers thrum against your thigh as you say this. You feel more than see Kuroo’s eyes on them.

“They love you,” he points out, a little unnecessarily.

You snort.

“Love is expensive nowadays and everyone in the Pit is broke.”

“You love them back even more.”

You glare at him but he is just looking at you, tracing the planes of your face. A frown tugs at your lips.

“How are you feeling?”

Kuroo rolls his shoulders experimentally, stretching his arms above his head.

“Better,” he affirms. “More like myself.”

“A nosy busybody who talks like a grandpa?”

“Exactly.”

He is grinning now and you have to fight to keep yourself from returning the expression.

The bruises on his face are yellow now. You estimate it will only take a couple more weeks of regular meals for his face to fill out and his skin to look youthful again. You don’t bother asking him how long he had been alone, what happened to his family. None of that matters now. The apocalypse is a great equalizer.

“I talked to Takeda and Kiyoko this morning,” you begin, leaning your head back and closing your eyes against the sun. “They agreed to give you another week before putting you on guard rotation.”

“I would appreciate that. I want to earn my keep, however I can.”

A ghost of a smile dances across your lips.

“You’re just bored,” you tease. It’s been a long time since you felt sleepy and loose enough to tease anyone.

“You say that now, but newbies get the shittiest schedule possible,” you warn him, unsure why you’re telling him this. “Be prepared. Once you’re back to top form, we’ll discuss sending you on patrols for medicine and expanding that garden of Suga’s.”

There’s silence but it’s comfortable, easy. You let yourself enjoy it for just a few moments before standing, opening your eyes and offering Kuroo a full smile and your hand.

As he shakes it, looking only a little confused, you wonder how much longer he would have survived on his own in the city.

“Welcome to the Pit,” you say before turning on your heel and walking away.

~~~

Nightmares are as plentiful as soil on Suga’s fingers.

A sliver of moonlight is all that keeps you from sinking into the darkness, skin clammy, chest heaving. Your fingers twist into the sheets. A prayer is whispered that you didn’t scream this time. You can’t bear the thought of Kiyoko running again, feet bare, knife in hand and tears glistening on her cheeks. Her utter, pure relief haunted you for a month.

It would be so easy, you think, to never get up again.

Kiyoko would care for you. Daichi would stop by, every day, and update you. Ukai would read to you, probably, or nap in your cell, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

These are the thoughts that force you up, out, stumbling into your worn boots, shrugging a jacket on.

Takeda finds you in the office hours later, hunched over inventory reports in his neat handwriting, hair pulled back. He puts a pot of coffee on and hands you a steaming mug, holding a hand out for the report you’re struggling to understand.

“Winter is coming,” you sigh as you hand it over. He doesn’t ask about the shadows beneath your eyes, doesn’t comment on the fact that it’s barely six-thirty in the morning and you’ve clearly been awake for a number of hours.

A smile quirks at his lips.

“I didn’t know Tanaka managed to get the TV’s up and running,” he jokes. You wave your hand in a vague gesture, taking another sip of the liquid heaven in your hand.

“We need to get winter supplies,” you answer and that sobers him up. He nods, slowly, eyes roving the paper.

“Winter isn’t for over six months,” he reminds you. An eyebrow is raised. A teacher, waiting for an explanation. In moments like these, you see the high school teacher that you’d found barricaded in his office, babbling a stream of students’ names that Daichi had quietly whispered as your group cut them down, reading them off their uniforms.

On Takeda’s worst nights, as you guarded the door to his cell, you’d heard those same names, apologies and nonsensical gibberish streaming from his mouth as he grappled with his dreams and feverish tremors.

You stand, stretching, before stepping in front of a map of the city that Suga had snagged on one of his patrols. It’s huge, taking up an entire wall. Little markers litter the paper, different colors, and you run your finger over the pale blue ones in the northeast corner.

“There’s a limited supply of winter clothes in the city. I don’t want other groups getting to it first - we don’t need that bastard holding it over our heads when we have food and they don’t,” you remind him. Your arms cross behind your back automatically. “With the snows, we’ll need snow boots. The kids need jackets and thermals. We need to completely outfit the prison’s entire water supply system to last through snowstorms. We need hot water before then or half of us are going to be too sick, and the other half will be taking care of them. We need medicine, too.”

You tick off each item on your fingers, pausing to consider if you’ve missed something. You’re probably missing ten somethings and you struggle to see what they are. You need more coffee.

Takeda is twenty-nine, but when you turn to look at him finally, he seems sixty, glasses dangling from his fingers, nose bridge pinched between his knuckles.

He mutters something suspiciously close to a curse under his breath before opening his eyes.

“You’re right,” he admits. “We’re going to need at least seven months to prepare.”

The morning is a whirlwind. You send the youngest children, always the earliest risers, to fetch Daichi and Kiyoko, both much more bright-eyed than they have any right to be. Takeda drags a yawning Ukai into the office moments later and Tanaka slouches after them. Suga pokes his head in to give you a little wave and knowing smirk that everyone else finds nonthreatening before ushering the children to the cafeteria for their breakfast.

You’re positive you’re not imagining the pale pink coating Daichi’s cheeks.

After explaining the situation, everyone sucks in a collective breath.

Tanaka never sits and always faces a door. From his corner of the room, he glowers at the map.

“Well, fuck,” he neatly summarizes. You nod your appreciation for his conciseness.

“We need to get a hold of meat,” Ukai points out. A something you had missed.

You grab a marker and the portable whiteboard Takeda had grabbed a few weeks ago. In neat characters, you begin documenting everything thrown around the table.

“Raising livestock will be another way to keep the little ones busy.”

“We can’t ask people to shower in cold water during winter, that’s cruel.”

“Tanaka, is there any way to get the heating system up and running by then?”

“What about air conditioning? We have to get through the summer to get to winter, and heat is just as likely to kill us.”

“If other groups realize what we’re doing, we could be in trouble.”

A headache is brewing somewhere behind your temples and you bite back a groan. Kiyoko pushes a cool water bottle into your hand and you know she isn’t fooled for one second.

“I think we’re missing someone here,” Kiyoko points out mildly after what feels like an eternity of circular conversation. All eyes turn to her and she’s unruffled, fingers still wrapped around her mug.

“Kuroo could be a huge help to a lot of this,” she continues. “I’m sure he can help Tanaka and Noya with everything on their list, and we need more able-bodied men on the patrols anyway. He can help us with medicine, our food supply, all of it.”

A furtive glance in Tanaka’s direction is not encouraging. He’s glowering, eyes hooded.

“We barely know him,” Tanaka hisses. You have to privately agree.

“We barely know each other,” Ukai shoots back. “We’ve been here, what, three months?”

“He hasn’t even been on a patrol yet and you want him helping us make important decisions that affect everyone, including the kids?”

“That’s unfair, and you know it, Tanaka,” Takeda says patiently, but somehow reproachfully at the same time. “Kuroo has been in no condition to patrol. The man was emaciated.”

Takeda continues, levying everyone at the table with a stern face.

“We all trust each other now because we took the gamble and brought people in and allowed time to prove it. It was always a risk, and it will always be a risk, but we can’t let that stop us. What we’re doing here is more important than just working together to survive.”

It’s a flowery, nice sentiment, to be expected from a literature teacher, and you barely hold back a snort at Ukai’s warning look.

“None of this matters,” you cut in. “Takeda’s right. And so is Kiyoko. He could be a huge help to you specifically, Tanaka, and he’s getting better every day but we have to give him time before he’s physically ready. You saw him when we brought him in – he was skin and bones.”

Tanaka subsides into grumbling acceptance and you take it as a win.

Daichi returns with Kuroo in tow just minutes later, and if Kuroo is at all confused, he doesn’t show it. He folds himself into a chair, all long limbs and wide feet.

The problems are laid out on the table again. You watch as Kuroo absorbs it, eyes narrowed, flicking sometimes to the map on the wall.

“Frankly, I wish we were in an apartment building,” Tanaka reveals after an hour of debating the best way to acquire livestock.

You sigh, rubbing the heel of your hand into your eyes hard enough to see colors. You know it’s not Tanaka’s fault, that he’s saying out loud something you’d privately thought before. That the electrical systems in apartment buildings would be much easier for him to coax into submission.

But you’re tired. Kiyoko is rubbing the old wound on her shoulder again, Ukai’s fingers are tapping a loud rhythm on the table, and Daichi is watching you lose your mind with that same placid smile in place.

“I wish the apocalypse didn’t happen and we all didn’t have nightmares every damn night, but here we are,” you snap. “I wish we were all cozy in furnished apartments right now, too, and I wish we didn’t have to talk about these things.”

You wish the children didn’t have to hold knives, you wish Suga would stop forcing you to eat, you wish you could forget your mother’s laugh, you wish and wish and wish.

Tanaka’s mouth is open and Daichi is sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. Kuroo’s eyes are expressionless and he just looks like he’s waiting, though for what, you can’t even begin to guess.

You find that you don’t have the energy to regret the words, so you barrel on.

“The apartment buildings are stacked with nightstalkers. It would take weeks to clear even one out, and we would lose people. Guaranteed. We lost one person clearing this prison out and that —”

You’re cut off by a strange choking noise in your throat. The memory of Ennoshita is sweet, cloying, poisonous. Takeda looks pale and strained at the mention of it. His last student.

Your voice is pitched low when you manage to blink away traitorous tears. The sound of your chair scraping is loud and grating against your ears as you stand. They all watch you silently. Waiting.

“Ennoshita is buried here,” you say and the surprise on their faces is almost insulting. “So is Ayasaki’s little girl. We have a life here, one we built and fought for. The kids love it here, it’s as safe as it can get, and it’s isolated from the turf wars in the city. You know why we chose this place, you were part of the vote that decided it, Tanaka.”

Deep breath in. Out.

“I know I’m asking for a lot, but it’s necessary, and we’re all up to the task simply because we have to be.”

As far as motivational speeches go, you’re sure this is ranked pretty low. But Daichi straightens and Kuroo’s eyes are gleaming as he stares at you. Kiyoko is almost smiling and you take that into both of your hands and hold on for dear life.

“I have to protect them.”

Everyone in the room opens their mouth at pretty much the same time but Ukai beats them all to the punch with his lazy drawl.

“You’re a moron,” he sneers. “An absolute idiot if you think you’re doing any of this alone. Now run along and get some breakfast before Suga drags you there by your hair.”

~~~

It doesn’t surprise you when Kiyoko finds you later, on the roof, scribbling half-mad ideas into a plain notebook. She always knows where to find you.

“I think you should stay home tomorrow,” she says without preamble. The word home nearly sends you stumbling off the roof.

“Why? Am I dying and I don’t know it?” you ask dryly. The look she levels at you nearly makes your heart stop.

“We agreed to let Kuroo go tomorrow,” she explains, settling into the spot next to you, peering curiously at the notebook in your hand. “But you haven’t been sleeping and we can’t afford to lose you because you’re too tired to stand properly.”

You scowl. Damn the four eyes. Her and Takeda know too much for their own good.

“I’m fine,” you wave a hand dismissively. “I’ll get some rest tonight, promise.”

She let’s the matter go, which is a point for you, but you watch warily as she opens her mouth again.

“Tanaka is looking for you.”

A sigh.

“I should apologize.”

“That’s what he said.”

A laugh, short and barking, escapes you. Kiyoko smiles at the sound.

“We’re all such idiots.”

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