#he’s surprised (clearly he hasn’t hung out with me long enough to see how annoying I am lol)

[zootopiathingz]

Is it normal for your brother in law to tell you that you have a “huge rack”?

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (ii) - pt 1 here!!

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : matt is still a grumpy ass but y/n can't seem to get him off of her mind.

warnings : idk uhhh matt’s rude but in a love hate kinda way 😋! also alcohol/drinking (i headcannon everyone 21+!)

mickey speaks : shes finally hereeeee and shes kinda long. im hoping to post more consistently!! luv u guys enjoy <3 ignore the fact that the pic above has a yt girl in it this story is for everyone i promise !!!! i just liked the little green vibe ok? ok.

THIS IS PART TWO GO READ PART ONE FIRST DUH!!!!

AND of course you see matt again.

only a month ago, you were introduced and forced to spend an hour of your time in close proximity to him, no matter his disinterest. yet, also, only a month ago, were you gifted with the cutest tiny tattoo that continues to surprise you a little whenever you lift your shirt before a warm shower.

it hasn’t bothered you nearly as much as you'd assumed - only disrupting your life with the caution you now take to avoid irritating the skin at your lower stomach. though some nights you grow lazy, you’ve maintained a very disciplined attitude of incorporating time in your morning and nightly rituals to ensure the tiny hello kitty inked on you is properly cared for.

contrary, your interactions with matt bothered you far more than you assumed. your sub-concious must've held onto your attempts to break past his careless attitude (that greatly opposed your own people-pleasing nature) just to pettily haunt you. but you've you forced yourself to get over it at this point. you just had to after one night, the week following your tattoo appointment (and after a long day of rude professors and pretentious customers blaming you for their own mistakes), you broke down to andrea:

you sniffle before your voice breaks again, "everyone's just mean. and- and i was so fucking annoying last saturday. it keeps playing over in my head. i'm so embarrassed and i just know he hated me, but i dont know why?! i thought i was nice enough. he could've just smiled or maybe just- i-"

andrea pauses from petting your head, "honey, you're not still talking about the guy who tatted you, right?" you look up at her from your head's soft spot in her lap with glossy eyes and a quivering lip.

"dre-" you choke.

"oh my god! no! y/n, you can't take shit like that personal. not everyone enjoys talking or happiness for that matter, you can't hold on to something like that. i promise he's not too hung up on it himself." she wipes away one of your pitiful tears.

and here he is, standing across the room from you at a party.

you definitely did not expect to see matt (who’s mild attitude was clearly fueled by socializing) in this scene but you guess that la parties are just like that. as long as you know someone who knows someone you’re easily in, that's how you tend to get into these events at least. though an insta stalk would tell you matt has enough clout to get himself in, he and his brothers have built quite the brand for themselves among la socialites.

once your eyes spot him over the shoulder of some guy who just introduced himself to you, they can’t seem to move. you watch as matt smiles for a photo with a few others. matt. smiles. okay, so maybe it was a you problem. he doesn’t hate everyone maybe just you.

though, your thoughts are denied as quickly as his face drops. he doesn’t even care to look at how the image may have turned out like the rest of the group. instead, his eyes opt to watching the people around him as he sips his weak drink.

great, now you’ve become the weirdo watching him watch other people.

until his eyes catch your cautious yet curious stare from across the room. your cheeks heat and you’re immediately shifting your eyes back to the man in front of you.

matt almost smirks at his luck. no fucking way the scared sweetheart he’d tattooed just a few weeks ago is here. he looks away when someone lays a hand on his shoulder to bring him back into the conversation. you're surprised that he continues to look back over to you after adding his input.

the guy finally acknowledges your disengagement with the story about his new motorcycle and turns to see what exactly you’re staring at. he sees matt and turns back to you, “you know him?”

“yeah. well not like know-know we only met once, he gave me a tattoo.”

“oh, cool,” he looks back over to matt and turns back to you once again, “is he bothering you?”

your face scrunches initially, “no, it’s fine.” you smile at him, not wanting to give him the impression that matt did anything but exist (which apparently is enough to capture your attention).

“good. wanna go grab another drink and tell me more about this tattoo?” a charming smile morphs on face and you nod your head easily, taking his hand and leading him towards the bar outside of this large home. and away from matt.

“two-” you look over to the man beside you, “wait is this an open bar?” you ask him genuinely and he laughs a little at your aloofness.

“yeah,” he nods.

“perfect, we’ll take two kamikaze shots pretty please!” you smile at the bartender who seems to be enjoying her night quite a bit and squeeze his hand when you realize it’s still in your own. he looks down at your attached hands then back to you.

you turn your body to face him more directly and lean up to his ear, cupping your hand and whispering, “i’m so sorry, i think i forgot your name.” you were starting to feel bad and just had to confess.

you lean back and bite your lip to hide an awkward smile, and he somehow smiles harder than he already was, “it’s-”

“ashton!” you hear a voice yell hurriedly and now some dark haired guy is pulling him away from you and repeatedly saying “code red!” in his face. and suddenly, without any indication he’d enjoyed your short lived time together, he’s gone.

you try not to sulk but he was an attractive guy with easy conversation, so you at least hoped to get his number by the end of the night.

instead, you’re left leaning against the bar hoping those shots come around soon. you decide to update your friends on your night:

Y/N

cute guy lefttttt :(

REMI

noooooo he was so cute 😫

Y/N

don’t remind me

ANDREA

where r you now???

Y/N

outside bar, im waiting on shots

Y/N

come find me💔💔

your head shoots up from your phone when three guys practically ram themselves into the bar near you, a few people around them laughing obnoxiously.

"god damnit, chris! we said we were going slowly!"

"shhhh. you are so loud, matt!"

“excuse me, can we get some water? none of the sparkles or bubbles and shit, just water, please.”

“next time i'm speaking for myself! what if i wanted the bubbles?”

you lean your head a little to get a full view of the three recognizable faces. chris, with his arms dangled over his two brothers’ shoulders clearly obliterated and slurring his words (but excited to be there nonetheless). a blonde one, you haven’t gotten the chance to meet yet, with two nose piercings and a commanding voice. and matt, with his signature pout, even poutier now that chris’ weight is causing him to hunch over slightly. you guess you were bound to run into them.

you wonder if andrea was right in saying matt hadn’t held onto your exchange. you wonder if when he saw you earlier he remembered you for your friendly smile rather than your annoying nagging. or did he even remember you at all? did he only look at you because you were staring him down first? okay, where the fuck are those shots?!

“no way!" you hear chris’ voice screech upon recognizing you from across the bar, "y/n!?”

you look over and see him shockingly excited to see your face again. you smile in an attempt to not allow your nerves about matt get to you. you are never one to deny a conversation after all.

“oh my god! hi!” you reply as chris unwraps himself from his brothers and moves closer to you.

“how’s your tat treatin’ you?” his eyes express so much excitement he reminds you of a little kid. you’re very flattered to see someone feel so much emotion due to your mere presence.

“oh, it’s still so cute, no regrets so far. i love it.” you smile and he nods while you’re speaking.

he turns around and sees his brothers and a few friends remaining in the other side of the bar talking amongst themselves. “yo, get the fuck over here! why are you guys so far?” he encourages them with a hand wave.

you wave as well, trying not to be a total stranger- even if you are.

the blonde guy leads them over and hands chris a glass of water that must’ve been waiting on him.

“cheers,” chris smirks and takes a sip before a disgusted look takes over his face, “gross. my god! why do they make this shit so bland?”

the blonde boy rolls his eyes in amusement, mumbling, "just drink it," before approaching you kindly. "hey, i’m nick by the way."

“y/n, nice to meet you! i met chris and matt when i got my tattoo done at your shop a while ago.” you explain kindly.

before nick can get another word in a female voice is squealing, “you’re y/n?! hi, i’m asha, i don't know if your remember but we talked on the phone that one time!” a tanned girl with soft cheeks and dark loose curls moves herself in front of the boys.

“of course i remember, how could i forget that insane frog story? it's so nice seeing you in person finally!” you gush.

suddenly chris is beaming, “aww wait guys this is so cute! i’m feeling like we should all hug!” he nods to his brothers who are quick to shake their heads no.

“i don’t think..” nick starts.

“nooo! let’s hug!” chris argues and opens his arms wide gesturing for everyone to hug him.

౨ৎ

after sharing a very drunk and messy group hug you all continue to talk until chris finally blurts, "i gotta go pee so bad guys, " he laughs, "but i need people with me because if i walk in on someone puking, then what? i'll die from my severe" (its not severe at all) "emetophobia and no one will ever know?"

you and asha (who you've found is actually so similar to you) both laugh at his crisis.

matt just breathes a laugh.

"chris, there’s no reason to go further with the fear factor when no one said they wouldn't come with you. i’m coming, so you're not gonna die, let's go." nick shakes his head.

“you don’t understand, nick i would be dead and covered in- i can’t even say it, dude,” chris’ voice fades as they walk away.

"wait, i'll walk with you guys inside! 'm... getting cold out here!" asha suddenly says removing herself from your side and waving goodbye with a drunk smile.

"it's not cold at all, she's trippin'" matt speaks watching her run and practically jump onto nick, causing the three laugh while leaving the crowded yard.

you just shrug and lean onto the bar again, making eye contact with the bartender who looks as if she only just remembered your existence but also seems to mentally question where the other guy went and how you managed to replace him that quickly.

"are you always so nice about everything?" matt questions, leaning his forearms on the bar, still looking at you.

"what?" you look over to him now, feeling almost sick at his proximity.

he mocks you with a high tone in his voice, "'it's soooo nice to meet you! it's soooo nice seeing you!' it sounds exhausting, to be honest."

"didn't realize having manners got you jail time," you breathe.

"and i never said it did."

"well, i don't have to be nice to you if it bothers you so much," you shrug.

"aw, sunshine, you'd do that for me? you're too sweet." he almost laughs at his own sarcastic comment.

you lick your bottom lip out of habit, "why are you still here? don't you have friends you should be ignoring?" you hope he can't tell just how frustrated he's making you.

“you must think you know me.”

“i know you don’t like me.”

“wrong, again.” he smiles and points his finger at you.

“oh, you just don’t like anyone then?”

he glances away before responding, “what's the fun in telling you?”

you huff in defeat, wanting nothing more than those shots right now. though your subconcious hopes the bartender continues to prioritize her flirting customers over you just so you can continue this addicting back and forth with matt.

"you know, that’s the thing with people like you. you think everyone owes you everything." he shakes his head.

"people like me?” you scoff under your breath, “matt, why are you still here?"

he can pick out the offense in your tone, "oh shit, that was true? i was fucking with you, sunny!"

"you don't know anything about me," you laugh and shake your head.

"alright there are those kamikaze shots for you! so sorry about that major delay, honey!" the bartender sets the shots in front of the both of you and smiles at you apologetically.

"don't worry about it, thank you!" you hand her a spare five dollar bill from your back pocket.

when she's gone you finally notice matt's widened eyes.

"what's up with your face, now?"

"you gave her a tip for pouring you some rankydank, fuckin' low level shots after you've waited long enough for her to apologize?" he seems genuinely shocked.

"she only makes money off of tips," you roll your eyes, picking the shot up and gesturing towards the second shot for him to take.

"that's all you," he raises his hands towards his chest.

"oh my god, do it, matt."

he shakes his head and points to you, "you take your shot, sweetheart."

"i knew you wouldn't, pussy," you say under your breath before smirking as you down the alcohol you've been craving since you first saw his face.

upon your insult matt is immediately taking the shot along side you. and just as both of your faces adjust to the taste, matt's phone begins to vibrate.

he grabs it and you attempt to hide your own curiosity by asking the bartender for a lime to suck on (not daring to ask for alcohol again because you simply don't want to be hung up at this bar for any longer).

"yeah, yeah still here," matt plays with his bottom lip and looks down at you with your mouth full of lime. he thinks you look pretty adorable, especially under the blush pink fairy lights hanging above the bar. "'kay, i'll be quick. alright, nick. i will. bye."

he puts his phone away and wipes his mouth, "that shit was fucking vile, by the way."

"okay, drama queen."

"mhm," his face falters back into his usual pout, "well i gotta go, but, um, nick wanted me to invite you to this get together thing we host at the warehouse, it's in like a month but, you know, come if you want." he shrugs.

"tell him of course i will, but only because he asked." you smile sarcastically.

౨ৎ

ANDREA - 12:39 AM

y/n where are you we are both so confused rn help

ANDREA - 12:45 AM

hellooo????

ANDREA - 12:47 AM

GIRL WE'RE OUTSIDE AND WE DONT SEE YOU TF

Y/N - 1:06 AM

WHERE ARE U GUYS RN I JSUT SAW TATTOO GUY AGASSN IM LOSUNG MY MIND JUST A LUTTLE BIT

Y/N - 1:06 AM

I WAS AT THE OTHER OITSIDE BAR IN THE FRONT(?) YARD!!!!! but its ok im gonba find u guys

౨ৎ

a few days later matt comes across your instagram story, forgetting he had followed you in the first place. it was a picture of you and your friends from the same night he had seen you again. it's a simple mirror photo where you're all smiling but besides your soft skin and cute outfit, matt's attention focuses on frank ocean's pyramids playing over the story.

you see the notification later that day when you finally get time on your phone:

matthew.sturniolo liked your story

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

[patchworkpuzzle]

MINORS DNI 18+

word count: 3k

warnings: cheating? (it’s a consensual roleplay so idk), oral (f!recieving), overstimulation, breeding, creampie

author’s note: Wow first time writing/posting smut….. y’all can thank @doinmybesthere  for this. Like she wrote that rp headanon thing and I just couldn’t get this out of my head (even if I was the one that suggested it to being with) Anyway…. hope you enjoy!

“H-hi…!”

That was the first thing out of your mouth when you opened the door to the repairman. You knew he was coming, the invoice on your answering machine said ‘11am sharp’, but you couldn’t help being caught off guard. You just weren’t expecting him to be so young…. Or handsome.

“Sorry! Come in!” you shake your head as you open the door further, taking a step to the side to get out of his path.

He gave you a chuckle, smiling kindly as he walked through the threshold of your home “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, no, no!” You quickly reassure, closing the door behind him while waving a hand in reassurance “I knew you were coming, just… just guess it slipped my mind for a moment!”

“Hey, it happens. Things slip my mind all the time!” He laughed for a moment, amused by your almost frantic nature in reassuring him before squaring his shoulders “So, where’s the problem?”

You shyly met his gaze before, pointing the direction of your kitchen, taking small steps in that direction “Um, the problem is this way.”

You led him to your kitchen, trying your best to ignore his large frame behind yours. You couldn’t understand why you were so nervous around him. You never felt like this when it was your gardener, or the grocery delivery person, or any of the other repairmen that showed up to help you out.  Maybe it was because he wasn’t a middle-aged man. Maybe it was because he had the nicest smile you have ever seen, and wonderfully dark eyes that matched dark hair that was pulled back into a small ponytail, or that the t-shirt he wore showcased his strong arms really, really, well.

You shook your head to shake you out of your thoughts, now was not the time to gawk at the help. Now was the time to tell him what needed to be fixed before escaping to the other room to start folding the neglected laundry.

“Uh, it’s the sink, I guess” You spoke once again when you got into the kitchen, pointing at the sink “It started with the dishwasher. It was working funny and then the sink followed suit. My husband tried to fix it, but I think he made it worse…”

“Not much of a handy man around the house, huh?” He chuckled as he bent down to open the cabinet that held all the pipes to the sink.

“Uh, no.” You gave a breathless giggle as you moved out of the way “He’s helpful in other areas, just not this one.”

“Ah, I get it, not worries! That’s what I’m here for.”

“Yeah, exactly…” You fiddle with your hands as you stare at his profile for another moment “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll just be in the other room if you need anything….?”

“Sero, you can call me Sero” The man, now known as Sero, smiles up at you “And sounds good to me!”

You simply nodded, dumbly, as you quickly turned yourself away from him and exiting the room to make sure he couldn’t see the blush that was now painted on your cheeks. Though mentally you were kicking yourself over how dumb you were acting. Why was he making you so nervous? Why were you acting like such a fool? He was just here to fix your sink, to clean out your pipes, nothing else!

You groaned at the way your brain phrased that sentence in your head, placing your head in your hands. This was going to be a long day.

~

“You don’t have a lot of people to talk to, huh?” Sero asked from where he was positioned under the sink.

You knew he was bound to say it. After you finished folding your laundry, you asked if everything was okay. When he told you it was, you went to tidy your bedroom. Once your bed was made, and everything was put away, you came down to check up on his once again. After another affirmative you just went to check the mail to then immediately come back into the kitchen to bug him once more. You were surprised he wasn’t annoyed with you.

“Guess not…” You chuckle, playing with your fingers as you lean forward on your kitchen island “Normally I do! Just…. Everyone is busy lately. Sorry for bothering you so much…”

“Don’t apologize! I don’t mind!” He quickly reassured as he stood from the ground, turning to test to see if the sink was finally working “I like the interaction too. Makes me feel like a person and not a tool, ya know?”

“Oh! That’s awful! People really treat you like that?”

“Yeah, but hey!” He turned back to you, wiping his hand on a dish towel he had around his toolbelt “Just means I appreciate people like you even more.”

The wink he sent you way caused an almost girlish giggle to escape your mouth as you turned your head away from him. After a moment, the silence that hung in the air somewhat heavy, you pushed off the counter “Are…. Are you hungry? I can make you something?”

You rushed towards your fridge, opening it to inspect the things within it to see what you could possibly prepare for him. Head racing with those thoughts you didn’t notice him moving closer to you, or that he was behind you, until you felt one hand on your hip and the fridge door closing in front of you.

“I could think of something I want to eat.” He breathed hot on your neck as he pulled you closer, making sure that you could feel the prominent bulge on your backside “If you catch my drift.”

You gulp trying to move away but only succeeding in wiggling your hips further into him, he hissed and gripped your hips more tightly to stop you from moving. Both of your breathing starting to grow hot and heavy, mingling together as you turn your head shyly towards him.

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this” You shake your head, trying once again to move away from him ��My husband wil be home any moment…”

“Will he?” Sero chuckled, turning you around to face him, pushing your body back until the small of it hits your countertop “I don’t think he will. If he was, then you would have already had lunch ready.”

He tilts your chin up, leaning down until his lips hover over yours. His hot breath caused your tongue to poke up to run across your lips as a flush began to bloom on your cheeks “And you seem like a dutiful housewife, you wouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“S-Sero…” You breathe out, closing your eyes as you felt his forehead connect with yours.

“Tell me to stop, that you don’t want it.” His breath was tickling your cheeks as he spoke “Tell me and I’ll leave right now, and we’ll never speak of it again.”

“I… I don’t want you to stop..”

Your lips were captured in a hungry kiss as soon as you spoke those words. The kiss so engulfing that it captures all your thoughts, how soft they were and how they work against your own that when you granted his tongue access you didn’t realize that he had picked you up and placed you on the countertop.

He forced your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinded your hips together, the action causing a small moan to leave your mouth as you parted from the kiss. More mewls kept tumbling, out of your control, as he trailed kisses down your throat. Sero delighted in the way your hips would involuntarily buck into his when he would nip at the delicate skin, causing him to leave harsher nips the further he went down.

“So sensitive,” He murmured once he got to your collarbone, taking the time to lick a stripe up your neck and chuckling in your ear as you whimpered “Does your husband not take care of you, baby?”

“Y-yes…!” You give a tiny yelp when he bites onto your ear lobe.

“Clearly he’s not doing a good enough job,” Sero brings a hand down to rub you through your pants, cocking a brow at how you ground yourself onto his palm “Is he?”

You whine, shaking your head ‘no’ at his statement. He wasn’t wrong. Your husband has been less than affectionate with you lately, and when he has it was always lackluster. And after months of a non-excitant, or if it was non-pleasurable, sex life you were quite needy. Even your vibrator hasn’t been able to be enough for you anymore. But now? The way he was touching you was burning a fire deep within you, and you wanted nothing more than for him to continue to let you burn brighter.

“Do you need me to help with that, little Lady?”

“Yes!” You cry out, tugging at his shirt to try and pull him closer as you continue to buck wildly into his palm, like a horny teenager, once again. “Please Sero!”

He groaned when you called out his name, resting his forehead against your shoulder to regain some semblance of control. After a breath he pulled away from you slightly to remove his shirt, giving a cocky smirk as you took a moment to admire him, as he reached down to pull your shirt over your head.

“Like what you see?” He teased, smiling only widening when you gave a small shy nod as a response, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra before tossing it aside “Aww, why don’t you say it, baby?”

You shyly brought your arms up to try and cover your chest, turning your head away embarrassed. It had been a long time since someone had looked at you the way Sero was; so hungry, like you were about to be eaten alive. It was causing you to become nervous.

“I know I like what I see.” Sero brought his hands to gently cup your chest, causing your arms to fall away as he leaned down to press gentle kisses along the swell of your breast “I like what I see a lot.”

You mewl when he starts his assault on your chest. The way he was nipping, sucking, and biting all over your breasts, never staying on one for too long, was causing you to pant. He was aggressive, but not enough to break the skin or leave a mark; which you were grateful for. His hands continued to grope as his lips grasped onto one of your nipples, assaulting it with continuous flicks of his tongue.

You let out a quiet moan as you arch your back into his touch, a hand coming up to tug at his hair gently while the other started to wander the expanse of his now exposed chest. Relishing and marvelling at all the lean muscle under your fingertips, slowly dipping lower and lower…

“Ah, ah, ah” Sero chides, removing your hand from tugging at his toolbelt to undo it “it’s all about you right now, baby.”

“But I wanna make you – ah!” you cry out, taken by surprise as his own hand slipped between your pants and panties to run through you folds.

“You’re already so wet,” Sero slides one of his long fingers into you, groaning at how tight you are “You really are pent up, aren’t you? I barely touched you”

You don’t have the care to answer him, or to be embarrassed by the slight squelching sound that could now be heard as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. You keen when a second finger joins the first and his pace starts to pick up, his thumb coming up to rub at your bundle of nerves. Shamelessly spreading your legs wider as you buck your hips into his hand, desperately trying to chase your release that is so close to washing over you, the ache in your core almost unbearable.

Your release finds you with a choked out gasp as you clamp your thighs tightly around Sero’s hand as your body spasms with the intense aftershocks, which are only amplified as he continues to finger you through your orgasm; only stopping when you have officially calmed down. Well, calmed down enough.

“Oh, please, please, please fuck me Sero” You beg, letting out a whine when his fingers leave your drooling hole.

“You want more, hm?” He asks, bringing his hand up to your mouth, to which you open for him to let his fingers into your wet craven. His moan spurring you on to suck his digits with more fervor “Then get down.”

His command sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine as you carefully slide off the counter. Once you were on steady feet he turned you around and forcefully, but still with a gentle touch, bent you forward, allowing you to adjust on shaky arms before quickly pulling the rest of your clothes off. The swift smack that echoed throughout the kitchen, and the slight burning ache on your ass, caused your legs to shake.

“Step out.” His voice was deep with desire, and you couldn’t help but immediately follow his instruction.

A surprised, and strangled, gasp left your lips as you felt his tongue take a swift lick up your folds. Only for it to be followed by another, one more fervent, as he gripped your hips tightly to pull you back onto his face as he continued to swipe at your folds greedily.

“More, Sero, please” You whimper, your voice needy as you try to move closer to him. “I want more!”

“Want me to fuck this pretty pussy bad, huh?” He hummed, spreading your folds to get a better look “I will, don’t you worry. Just wanted a taste.”

He’s big, you don’t really know for certain as you haven’t had the chance to see it. But from how he felt grinding on you, and the way the tip of his cock runs through your slippery folds, you can tell that it will be quite the stretch.

You whine as he slowly starts to enter you, the stretch is an intense but a pleasant burn as he slowly sinks into you inch by inch. You both groan in unison when he finally bottoms out. You close your eyes as you try to adjust, you’ve never felt so full, and you know Sero knows this as well.

“Good, you’re so fucking tight!” He groans, slowly pumping in and out of you, bringing a hand around to rub your clit “Relax for me, baby. I’ll take real good care of you, trust and believe.”

Once you started to relax was when his pace quickened, your moans getting louder in tandem to the speed his hips were going. It didn’t take long before his thrusts were hard and fast, hips snapping into you with such force that you were unable to stay upright on your arms. The chaffing of his jeans and toolbelt were just adding to the rough pleasure you were losing your mind to.

Your walls started to clench and flutter around him much sooner than you were expecting, his relentless fingers that were rubbing your clit making it impossible to hold out any longer. Another orgasm runs through you, your wail of ecstasy lost as your ears deafen to any noise as blood flushes through your body.

His pace and how his cock kept hitting that special spot inside you meant that you weren’t sure if you were about to start cumming again or if you hadn’t finished cumming in the first place. Not that you cared or could really think. The delirium he kept you in was so wonderful that you couldn’t find in yourself to try and fight it. The slick that was constantly spilling out of you and onto your thighs proof that this was the best fuck you had in a long, long time

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he made a mess of you, you’re now too dumb to really think due to how overstimulated you are, all you can do is moan and mewl for him and ‘just take it’. To enjoy the drag of his cock going in and out of you, the way the vein on the underside of his cock catches so wonderfully against your walls.

“You’re doing such a good job, baby. So, so good” Sero mumbles, placing kisses along you back and cracking a head over you ass once again “You’re gonna keep taking it baby, keep taking it so good for me till I cum, okay?”

You whimper, turning your head to face him, the cool countertop a wonderful contrast to your flushed cheeks “Cum for me, please! I want it so bad!”

“Fuck! Yeah, you want it. Want me to cum all over you, don’t you? Want me to cum all over this pretty pussy, making you forget about your worthless husband, yeah?”

You merely nod your head, your voice all but gone as his pace somehow gets even faster making it impossible for you to let out any noise but screams of pleasure, your mouth in a permanent ‘O’ position as you try to hold on until he cums.

He does with a loud groan, hips pressing snuggly against your ass, as he paints your insides white with ropes and ropes of his cum. Slowly pulling out with a hiss, spreading your swollen and sore lips apart to watch it drip out of you and down your thighs.

“Are you okay, love?” Sero asks after a beat, slowly regaining his breath.

You tiredly laugh and nod your head “Yeah, I’m okay.” you slowly start to pull yourself upright, trying to properly stand on your wobbly legs “You know you broke character. You’re not suppose to cum inside some random housewife.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugs his shoulder, collecting you in his arms “Got too lost in the moment… Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up!”

Before you had the chance to tease your boyfriend even further he threw you over his shoulder and started bounding his way to your shared bathroom to draw you a bath, just like he said he would.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Want Me

This is, a lot more than anything I've ever written, but I hope you like it.

Master List

~~

When Chan had told Stays he had a gift for them today, you had anticipated something like the valentines date. Maybe even Hyunjin’s surprise appearance. What you definitely weren’t expecting was your boyfriend to basically strip in front of literally the whole world.

“Oh. My god.” Your reaction was subconscious, and totally not something you wanted your roommate, Sungmi, to hear. Your eyes were the size of saucers as you stared at your phone.

“What’s up?” Her interest was piqued the second you made a sound, and being you, you did the one thing you could think of.

You threw your phone as far from yourself as possible.

The two of you watch it sail across the living room and land safely in the dirty clothes hamper neither of you had moved from the hallway to the washer.

“Uh, you good?”

“Wow, look at that laundry!” You exclaim, “Someone should go do it.” You can’t even jump up from the couch when her hand is wrapping around your ankle, pulling you onto the floor.

“Was it Chan’s performance?” Your face immediately goes crimson. “No,” You lie, poorly. “What performance? I didn’t even know he was performing. I should go do the laundry.” You’re talking like you’re the flash, and while she’s attempting to figure out what you said, you attempt to wrench your leg from her grip. Unfortunately her brain power is faster that you can get your arms under you, though you do manage to yank her off the couch with you.

“Get back here!” She huffs, yanking you closer to her and somehow managing to sit on your pelvis. “You saw the Wolfgang performance didn’t you?” She demands, but your answer is more struggling to knock her over. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/n.” She drops forward, pinning your arms by your head, and if she were literally anyone else, you would probably think this was super hot.

“Curse your shockingly strong legs.”

“Nine years of waterpolo.” She explains.

“Really? Damn, I should start playing.”

“You’re stalling.”

“No I’m not.” You lie, again. She rolls her eyes, dropping her head a little more to knock her forehead against yours. “Ow.”

“Be honest with me.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not.” She bonks your head again, “Stop lying.”

“Will you get off me?”

“When we’re done talking.”

“Then yes, I saw Chan’s Wolfgang performance.” She nods, letting go of your hands to sit up properly and crush your pelvis a little more.

“I thought it was pretty hot.” She confesses and you feel something bubble in your chest. You can’t help the slight twitch in your brows and of course she notices. “Ah! Jealousy!”

“I’m not jealous.” She taps your forehead, aggressively enough to hurt a little. “Ow.”

“You can’t lie to a Psychology major.”

“I’m not-” She raises her finger again and you relent. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’m not a huge fan of someone telling me they think my boyfriend is hot to my face.”

“Did you think it was hot?” Your face grows warm and you have to bite back an embarrassed smile.

“I’m not answering that.”

“You don’t have to. You’d be stupid to think otherwise.”

“Especially when he was in the white shirt.” You admit, and she nods.

“You should see if he’ll wear something like that next time you two decide to get all hot and heavy.” Your face flushes again, not really wanting to discuss your sexlife with someone you’ve only actually known for about seven months.

“Um yeah, totally.”

“Oh my god. You guys don’t do stuff!”

“We do stuff!” You defend, immediately regretting it.

“Oh really? Ever used handcuffs?” On him, or me?

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“So that's a no. How about, have you ever sent him a nude?” Oh, if only you knew.

“Get off me.”

“Another no.” She grins, “I’m shocked, he seems like such a feisty boy, you’d think he’d do stuff.” “Seriously, get off.” There’s no humor in your voice now. It wasn’t her place to tell you about your own boyfriend, and you were getting sick of her forcing her way into your love life.

“Oh come on Y/n.” She doesn’t get another word out before you grab her leg and wrench her sideways. Instead of just tossing her onto the floor, you find yourself slamming your hand into the floor by her head, now leaning over her.

“Stay out of my love life, do you hear me?” You practically growl, “I don’t need your help to please my boyfriend.” Her eyes go wide at your words, and you instantly become aware of your positions when a smirk paints itself on her face.

“My, my Y/n. I didn’t peg you as someone who’d be on top.”

“Clearly.” You reply. “Now are you quite done?”

“Have you ever topped him? He seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t like that.”

“Once again, I don’t have to answer that.”

“You should try it. Something tells me you’ll like it.”

“Shut up.”

~~

“I hate you.” It had been hours since your rather sexually charged conversation with her, and here you were standing at her doorway seeking advice. You hadn’t stopped thinking about what she had said, but in all honesty, Chan was your first, so you had no clue what you were doing most of the time.

“Oh? Is that why you’re looking all lost and confused at my door?” Her voice is sickeningly sweet as she looks at you in the mirror. “What up?”

“I need advice.”

“Wear black, it looks good on everyone.” Her gaze shifts back to her reflection, where she’s curling her hair for a date.

“About Chan.” Her attention turns back to you in an instant and you’re tempted to run back to your room.

“In what sense?”

“What you said earlier.” A wicked grin spreads on her face. “Have a seat darling.” You trudge over to her bed, sitting on the trunk at the end to watch her. “First off, tell me this, who initiates sex usually?”

“He does.” You admit quietly. “Babe, if you want my help, you gotta be able to talk about sex without turning into a tomato. I mean, how are you sexually active and still blushing like a virgin. Next you're going to tell me you only do it missionary with the lights off.”

“Well…” Her mouth drops open in horror.

“Oh my god.” She gasps. “No wonder you’re all annoyed these days. You’re not satisfied.”

“Hey, he gets me off,” You defend, “And he’s very good at it.” You practically swoon just thinking about it. She raises her hands in surrender, but smiles at your answer.

“Have you ever asked him for oral?”

“How the hell do I bring that up in casual conversation? Just “Hey babe, you did wonderful today, do you want to eat me out’.”

“Well if it works.”

“No.”

“Okay, have you ever worn lingerie for him?”

“No, but I did buy something to wear a few months ago.” She nods, approving.

“How come you’ve never worn it?”

“Between Kingdom and the fact that he lives with seven other men, there hasn’t exactly been a time and place.”

“That’s fair. When do you guys usually do it? What’s it like? Just broad details.”

“He tells me he wants to spend the night. I usually get a hotel room, since my parents are still sending me money for rent, and we arrive at separate times. Its usually really sweet and slow.”

“And after?” She prompts.

“We shower, and cuddle. He usually leaves first cause he has practice or something.”

“Ever done it in the shower?” You shake your head, shoulders slumping as you realize how lame everything sounds.

“I really like him, but I think, especially since you said he seems like a kinky type, what if he’s not as into me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case.” She turns her chair towards you, setting a hand on your knee. “I think you’re both too nervous to broach the subject. I know this is your first real relationship, and it might be his too.”

“So, what should I do?”

“Start simple.” She turns back to her mirror, “You should book a room, and jazz it up a little. Rose petals, candles, maybe that set you bought. That way its obvious you want him.”

“That's not a bad idea.”

“Even better! I will go halfsies on one of the fancy hotels with you. I know one that has these huge bathtubs so you can take one together, and the shower has a stone floor, so its not slippery. Oh! We can get you a pretty silk robe, so you can do the dramatic reveal.”

“This sounds like a lot. How about for now, I just do the candles and the set?” She laughs, clearly embarrassed by the way she fiddles with her necklace.

“Sounds like a plan. You can do the big one for your anniversary.” You nod, agreeing with her.

“I can do it tonight, he’ll probably want some stress relief after that performance.” You offer her a sly smile, jumping up to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” She calls after you.

“I gotta go buy some candles.”

~~

Hey lover, come meet me. *Y/n shared her location*

You glanced over at the message again as you adjusted the black lace garterbelt. Sungmi had been right, black did look amazing on everyone. He had read the message, and if you were lucky, he was too busy driving over to text you back. You slid the black skirt up your legs, loving the way it stopped just under the edge of the thigh highs. The last piece was a simple t shirt, it was a little ripped and hung off one shoulder, just giving a slight peekaboo of the bra you had spent way too much money on. If Chan didn’t combust from seeing you in this, you were going to have a fun night.

Carefully you moved your things out of the main room, tucking them in the closet for safe keeping, and began lighting the candles. The sweet aroma of vanilla and lavender wafted through the room as you shut the lights off. You settled on the edge of the bed, taking a few risque selfies to show Sungmi and maybe send Chan later.

And then you waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Babe?

Three hours, that's how long you’d been waiting before you finally texted him again, having run out of excuses for the man.

“Sorry babe, I was working. Do you still want me to come to you?”

Not really, after this long, the wonder had worn off, and you just felt stupid and hurt. Of course he wasn’t going to come if you asked.

No. Its fine.

Actually, I want to talk to you. Are you still at the studio?

You set your phone down, turn the lights back on and begin blowing out candles. You don’t bother changing, just grab your sneakers and your bag before heading out, tucking your key and phone in your bra as you leave the building.

With some take out in hand you make your way to the JYP building, not at all surprised to see several lights still on.

“Woah, hel-lo Y/n.” You instantly smile at Jae’s greeting, which is followed by Brian’s whistle. “You look like a full course meal, girl.”

“Hey boys, what had you here so late, its past midnight?”

“Oh we were just-” Jae glances over at Brian who clears his throat.

“Just working. What about you?”

“Chan’s still working, so I brought some food.” You shrug, heading towards the elevators, “Have a good night.

“You too.” You have to bite your lip so you don’t laugh at Brian smacking Jae’s shoulder, earning a whine from the taller boy.

The lights from the studios are all off when you arrive, but you can see the glow of the computer shining from Chan’s. You knock as you open the door, making him jump and yank his headphones off when the light from the hall hits him. His face lights up in a smile when he sees you. Of course, he’s wearing super tight jeans and a black button up, neither of which were not helping you relax.

“Oh hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming.” He stands to greet you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I texted you.” You tell him, which has him looking guilty.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear it when I’m working.” You smile reassuringly at him.

“That's okay, I know, that’s why I just came over.” You hold up the bag of take out, “I also brought food since you forget to eat when you start working.”

“You are the light of my life.” He sighs, kissing you properly this time as he takes the bag. Your heart flutters from his words, some of the butterflies in your stomach coming back from the dead. You sit across from him, stealing his work chair as he spreads the food out on the table and digs in. It takes him a few minutes to notice that you’re just staring, and he finally stops eating to say something, “You okay? How come you aren’t eating?”

“I already ate.” You lie, but he sees right through it, setting his chopsticks down to look at you properly. You watch his eyes rake across your body, finally seeing the lace stockings and the matching bra.

“That’s not it. You’re disappointed.” He realizes, “You looked the same way when you saw I.Ns grades.” He explains before you can even open your mouth to answer. “I know its not our anniversary, and your birthday already passed.”

“Its nothing babe. I just had a stupid idea for tonight.” The words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop them. He looks at your outfit again and a cheeky smile begins to grow on his face.

“Were you-? But you never-” He lets out a deep breath, followed by a small giggle, which doesn’t make you feel better.

“I should head home.” You spring up, heading towards the door. “Enjoy your dinner.” He catches your arm before you get too far, pulling you back to wrap his arms around you.

“What did you have planned, baby girl?” Your heart flutters at the pet name, and the low tone his voice had taken on. “You wouldn’t have gotten all dressed up like this for nothing.” HIs free hand trails down your side, coming to the edge of your skirt, where his fingers find the skin just above the top of your stockings.

“Maybe I just wanted to make sure you want me as much as I want you.” You confess.

“Baby girl.” His voice is soft now, “Of course I want you.” His lips brush the skin of your neck as he speaks, sending shivers across your whole body.

“Then how come we never do anything interesting?”

“Like what?” Your confidence grows as you turn to face him, looping a finger through the choker he wears.

“Maybe I don’t want to do the same thing every time we fuck.” You can see from the way his eyebrows hike up that he’s startled by your words, hell, you were startled by them. “Maybe I want to see you.” Your other hand moves up to his face, trailing your thumb over his lips. “Maybe I don’t always want to be in a bed, in the dark, on my back. Maybe I want to be in charge.”

“I don’t think you could handle that baby girl.” He bites at your thumb as he finishes his sentence.

“Try me, Chris.” You challenge. His hands come up to your cheeks, pulling you in for a searing kiss. For a few seconds, your brain forgets what you had just challenged. He doesn’t help as he pulls away from your lips, his trailing across your cheek and down your neck.

“Sit.” You order, pulling away, trying to keep your breathing steady and not let on how affected you were.

“Excuse me?”

“Sit. Down.” You order again, shoving him lightly towards his computer chair. He backs up slowly, collapsing into it, eyes never leaving you.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you turn away from him.

“Proving a point.” You declare, the click of his lock emphasizing your words.

“Oh?” You turn back to him, finding him relaxed as ever, watching you with his legs spread wide. You saunter towards him, standing between his legs, hands on the arm rests. “You really think you can handle this baby?”

“If I impress you, you’ll save your work and we head over to the hotel.”

“And if you don’t?”

“You save your work and we head over to the hotel anyway.”

“Bet.”

“You might regret that, baby.” You push on the chair, sending it back until it connects with his desk.

“Oh really?” He asks, as you push his knees together slightly so you can straddle his lap. Your fingers trail from his shoulders down to the buttons on his shirt, popping them open one at a time.

“You talk too much.” You tell him, leaning forward to press kisses along his neck. Just as you hit his pulse point, he hisses, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “Ah ah ah.” You chastise, pulling away from his neck. “No touching.” You pull his hands away, dropping them on the arm rests instead. “Hands to yourself.”

“Oh you are in for it when we get to the hotel.” He groans as you nip at his skin.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

[uniquevocashark]

A Good Servant Part 3

Content Warnings for:

murder, blood, slut shaming, implied/referenced mutilation (nonconsensual glossectomy), smoking, mentioned domestic abuse

The blood on your shoulder starts to itch by the time the cousin is gone, and Lady Dimitrescu finally deigns to acknowledge either you or her pet. Daniela has long since disappeared in a cloud of buzzing insects and you’ve kept your hands busy by doting on the Lady as she sees fit. It doesn’t help, and her odd silence annoys you.

She lounges comfortably on a chaise lounge, mulling over a single bottle of wine, a book she isn’t reading propped up on a lectern before her. The room is hazy with cigarette smoke, muting the redness of the walls and blurring them into a dark maroon. She points at you with her chin, and you clean away the stain at the corner of her mouth.

Lady Dimitrescu tilts her pet’s head up by the chin too gently than she usually does in front of an audience and her tone is thick and syrupy in the cold silence, “Where were you, pet?”

Her pet doesn’t speak.

“You want me to believe you were attacked,” Lady Dimitrescu muses, and you take the cup from her, “You want me to believe you weren’t down there for a reason. You want me to believe you didn’t have a secret room. So many wants but you won’t speak. What rules are you breaking, pet?”

Lady Dimitrescu had postponed dinner, which meant that you had to hole Rachel up in the communal bedroom rather than bring her out immediately, so now you were understaffed. You suppose, technically, that they are the Lady’s staff and if she wishes to have less staff members she is entitled to do so. You just wish it wasn’t so bloody inconvenient.

Lady Dimitrescu leans forward, cupping her ear as if she was straining to hear something, “Speak up, dear. I can’t hear you.”

Her pet still doesn’t speak.

The Lady sighs and she has you hold her wineglass as she drinks. An action she only lets her pets do. She closes her eyes for a second after you pull the glass away, and her pet cringes back a step.

Lady Dimitrescu extends her claws and sends you from the room without a word.

…

Dinner is served at 12:30 in the morning and Lady Dimitrescu still has not spoken to you.

The only food that could be properly warmed in time, by sheer coincidence, is the broth you had insisted upon. The Lady’s pet, you’re surprised to find, is still alive but Lady Dimitrescu has never been one to kill her pets on purpose. For as long as you have worked for her, at least. The only caveat is that Mihaela has to spoon feed her carefully and her bloody drool and tears must be wiped away after each spoonful. Her pet has already ruined the front of her new dress.

You positioned Rachel nearest to the Lady and she practically vibrates with nerves while she fills Lady Dimitrescu’s wine flute. She isn’t as nervous as you think she should be. She doesn’t know that her husband is currently with Miss Daniela, though. Or that the Lady knows of her extra martial activities. The stringent adherence to the supposed sanctity of marriage is the only hold over from her protestant upbringing.

Other than the broth, there are a series of rainbow-coloured jellies shaped like butterflies and flowers, arrayed together on their plates to form a meadow. There are a range of cakes; cheesecakes and pound cakes, red velvet and the ever-present chocolate cake that Miss Bela has already smeared all over her sleeves. Miss Daniela’s favourite, pineapple cake, remains untouched near the candelabra.

It isn’t until two in the morning, once the main course is served, that you bring Rachel’s husband into the dining room and Daniela forces the gardener next to her mother. Lady Dimitrescu kept intensive records on all families under her duty of care; she knew the time and date of all births, deaths and marriages of her subjects. She knew when they ate well and when they starved, she knew when they prayed and to whom, she knew when their children came of age and when their adults reached old age.

The Bradley’s were what she had deemed a trial group. Given special privileges to inspire a new flavour. But that was rather tangential. What mattered was that Lady Dimitrescu found their taste unsuited for any palate; Rachel’s indiscretion was merely the icing on the cake.

Lady Dimitrescu rubs the drool off her pet’s chin, “Mr. Bradley.”

Rachel’s husband has a voice that sounds strange with how quietly he talks, his accent slurring the ends of words with the start of the next, “Yes, my Lady?”

She smiles, her teeth stained pinkish. She pulls Rachel’s corpse forward with a finger hooked around the collar of her dress, and it falls forward and splatters a bowl of broth over him. Her throat is a mess of bitten out tendons and mangled vocal cords. You are impressed, as always, that Lady Dimitrescu has not one drop of blood on her dress. “I believe you lost this.”

He breathes through his nose, “Rachel.”

She drags her finger through the weeping hole and licks a drop from her finger.

“Why?” He asks with an emotion you can't identify. He doesn’t try to run, or freak out, or even go for the steak knife sitting pleasantly on the table next to his plate.

“She was an unfaithful whore,” Lady Dimitrescu sneers, “You didn’t beat her hard enough.”

He doesn’t blink, “That’s barbaric.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mr. Bradley. Your face isn’t suited for it.”

A muscle feathers in his cheek when she looks away from him. He isn’t old, but he isn’t young either and he’s missing fingers from frostbite. He has a ruddy complexion, but you suppose he’s handsome. In the way that stuffed elk heads are handsome.

Daniela, blissfully unaware, picks up her blood covered cake. “Oh, I love pineapple cake!”

…

“You were nervous earlier,” Lady Dimitrescu says, after the table has cleared, “Why was that?”

“It’s already been corrected.” You reply.

She sighs out a long string of smoke, “Has it?” You don’t answer and she laughs, a quiet chuckle that’s more a sigh than anything. She flicked the ash from the end of her cigarette. “Mother Miranda wanted to speak to you. A call will be coming through later.”

You nod. “Very well, Madame.”

Lady Dimitrescu looks at you, and you look at her. She blows smoke in your face and you squint against it. It means you don’t see her hand as it comes to stroke idly at your cheek, or the way her pet looks at you from under the table.

You frown at her, “You’re upset with me.”

She doesn’t answer.

You lean into her hand a little and she twirls a strand of your hair around a finger, pursing her lips. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” She mumbles, and you lean towards her to catch her next words, “I just hate not knowing things.”

You step away from her and head towards the door. “Don’t look at me like that. I told you to get used to it.”

She doesn’t speak again, the usual banter she responds with lost in the vague expression of disdain on her face.

…

The phone rings late the next day, while you’re busy scrubbing at the dishes to help keep everything running on schedule. You end up taking the call while folding the loose clothing that hadn’t been folded in a week.

“Dimitrescu residence.”

“Finally,” Mother Miranda sighed through the phone.

“Mother Miranda.”

“Wesker.” She replied.

You pause, wrestling down a sudden lump in your throat and settling the phone between your ear and your shoulder. “Hello.” You say unevenly.

Mother Miranda’s laugh is no less lovely through the speaker than it is in real life, “You’ve been well, I take it?”

“Very well, Mother Miranda,” You flex your free fingers, then grab another pair of stockings, “You wished to speak with me?”

“I did. Have you had any relapses?”

“No, Mother Miranda.”

“You're healing properly?”

“Yes, Mother Miranda.”

“Excellent. Vanessa wanted me to inform you that she’ll be there on the morrow.”

You drop the shift you were folding. “Excuse me?”

“Did Alcina not tell you?”

“It must have slipped her mind.” You say lightly, placing the shift back into the basket.

“Vanessa will collect more data, but your condition is promising. I’ll call again in a week with the results.”

“Thank you, Mother Miranda.”

She laughs again and you can imagine her clearly. The dark red velvet of her armchair, the hewn strength of her face, the glimmer of her dark eyes. “Take care.” She cooed and hung up.

You place the phone down gently and stand there in silence until Mihaela calls you to the Lady’s room.

…

You try to keep your temper in check when Mihaela leaves but struggle with it to a point that you have to look at her pet instead. Even that doesn’t help, because her pet has dropped all pretence of being meek and glares at you from her spot. She isn’t near the Lady, curled instead behind the bed with a glare towards you.

She should be grateful that she only lost her tongue.

It takes you a moment to realise that you’ve let the silence drag on too long to be polite and that Lady Dimitrescu has abandoned her own charade of being engrossed in a book of poetry she hasn’t touched in years. You flex your fingers.

“Madame.” You say but forgo a bow.

“You’re upset.” She observes mildly.

“God forbid I have a temper.”

The room goes silent again, but you aren’t in a hurry to smooth it over, cataloguing the shock that twists her face. Her eyes are wide, and her smile shows too many teeth, but you’ve never been one to shy away because of a few fangs. She rises from her chair, stepping over the bloody stain in the carpet as she looms over you.

“I beg your pardon.”

“I could ask the same.” You snap.

She raises a brow.

“How dare you,” You snarl, jabbing a finger up at her, and you struggle with your words, “How fucking dare you!”

[kimoralov3]

Love to Hate Me

Requested by: @NuclearPizza84

Word Count: 2314

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x mutant!black!fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, fighting, fire, use of mutant abilities, Erik being an ass

(Y/N)'s POV

Picking up my book, I flipped through the pages. Yeah, I'll leave the science stuff to Charles.

"(Y/N), I would like to introduce you to my new friend Erik. He'll be staying with us while I build up the school. Erik, this is my younger sister (Y/N)." Charles said as he walked into the living room. I looked up, waving at Erik.

"Hello, nice to meet you." I got up and held my hand out for him to shake, but he just looked at it then looked back at me. Well that was rude. 

"(Y/N), do you know where Raven is?" Charles didn't seem to notice his new 'friend' being a dick. 

"Last time I checked she was in her room. She might be taking a nap right now though." I explained as I pointed in the direction of the bedrooms. Charles nodded and made his way down the hall, leaving me and Erik alone.

"So do you have any abilities?" Erik finally spoke up. So he does speak. Good to know.

"I can control and create fire. You?"

"Now why would I tell you that?"

"So I tell you mine but you're gonna bitch about me knowing yours? Seems totally fair." I sassed as I crossed my arms over my chest. Erik rolled his eyes, brushing past me and going in the same direction as Charles. Asshole.

----

6 months.

6 months of having to deal with that asshole named Erik Lehnsherr. Surprised I haven't 'accidently' killed him yet. Charles had gotten the school set up to open in the fall, so me, Raven, Hank, Alex, Seth, and him have been perfecting courses for any possible mutation our future students might have. Erik was supposed to be helping, but he spent most of the time complaining about the way things were playing out.

"I'm glad to see that all our hard work has paid off." Erik announced as he walked into one of the training rooms. This specific one was made to withstand high temperatures, so it was perfect for me and Alex to use for practice.

"Your work? You ain't done shit this whole process." I said as I took off my gloves. 

"Like you have? Every time I run into you you seem to just be standing at your desk." Erik scoffed. 

"I'm the one who's been hiring all the builders and chefs, Erik. I'm the one who's spent 20 hours a week contacting parents and trying to convince them that we can properly care for their child. And what have you been doing? Walking around and putting your unwanted opinions in the air. So don't come to me talking about how I'm the one who hasn't done any work." 

"Is everything alright here?" Charles asked as he walked in. 

"Your sister is being a bitch." Erik said calmly.

"I'm being a bitch? Real mature." I rolled my eyes, turning my attention to what I was doing before Erik interrupted me. As I was getting a mannequin from the storage room, I felt a pull on my bracelet. What the hell? I looked up to see Erik holding his hand out in the general direction of my arm. "So you're seriously gonna do this?"

"(Y/N), Erik, enough. Now is not the time." Charles warned. Before he could step in, Erik used his powers to push him out the room, locking the door. 

"That's better. Now, shall we begin?" Erik asked as he took off his jacket and threw it on the floor. I took off my bracelet, throwing it at him. 

"I'm not wasting my time with this, Erik. I have training to do."

"So you're backing out, just like that? That's a shame. I thought (Y/N) Xavier would have more courage than that." 

"You want to fight, Lehnsherr? Fine, let's fight." I huffed out as I summoned a fireball, purposefully missing him by an inch. He dodged it, although it wasn't going to hit him anyway. 

"There we go! Come on, don't hold back." Erik shouted as he slipped my bracelet back onto my arm, pulling me towards the wall. I focused all the heat in my body to my wrist, melting off the bracelet. That was one of my favorites. I made a trail of fire around the room, taking it up and down the walls and around the ceiling. The final curve made a circle around Erik, trapping him where he stood. 

"Is that good enough for you?" I asked as I dusted my hands on my pants. Erik tried to step closer to me, causing it to grow high enough to reach his waist. "Is this what you wanted? For you to be 6 steps away from catching fire? Because if so, all you had to do was ask."

"Oh don't be like that, (Y/N). You know this is all in good fun." Erik gasped out.

"Do I? Because the whole time that we've known each other, you've been an ass. I tried to properly introduce myself, you ignored me. I offered to show you around the grounds, you called me a silly girl and walked off. I even offered to help you train, but you just pushed past me. I have tried multiple times to get to know you, yet everytime you act like a dick. So no, Erik Lehnsherr, I don't know that this is all in good fun, because I don't know you at all!" I shouted. Each word I got closer, and each sentence I became more and more upset. The fire grew bigger, the circle around Erik closing more and more the angrier I got. Erik didn't speak, he just hung his head down in shame. Pathetic. "So now you have nothing to say?" 

"(Y/N), I didn't-" Erik was cut off by the sound of the doors swinging open, Charles and Raven standing there. I extinguished the fire, brushing past the two of them and running to my room.

----

Erik's POV

"Why can't you just get along? What's the point of the useless bickering and fighting? What has she done to deserve this kind of treatment?" Charles shouted as he paced back and forth in front of his desk. 

"Charles, you know I never meant for it to get as bad as it did just now. I thought that I was helping her." I explained as I watched him pace.

"I know that Erik, but you can't expect the woman you've treated like gum on the bottom of your shoe to know that. Why can't you just tell her the truth? (Y/N) is very understanding."

"It's not that simple, Charles. Especially after all this time. She hates me." 

"You'll never know until you try. At least start with an apology. While you're doing that, I'm going to go asses the damage in the training room. I wish you luck, my friend." Charles patted me on my shoulder, walking out of the room. 

This is not going to go well for me.

----

(Y/N)'s POV

"What's going on between you and Erik? I mean, I know the two of you have never gotten along that well, but it's never gotten to the point where the two of you use your abilities against each other." Raven asked as she sat on my bed, handing me a cup of tea.

"There's nothing going on between us, that's the problem. Ever since he's gotten here, he's done nothing but pick at me. I've tried to be nice to him, but he always shuts me down. It wouldn't be so annoying if he wasn't so fucking hot." I grumbled as I took a sip of tea. 

"What did you just say?" Raven asked as she looked at me in shock. 

"What?" I didn't say anything out of the ordinary.

"You just called Erik hot." Shit.

"What? No I didn't." I avoided her eyes, setting my tea on my dresser. Wow, that's very nice wood work. How have I just now noticed this?

"Yes you did! I definitely heard you say it." Raven said as she moved to stand in front of me. I sighed, rolling over so I was facing the window. "(Y/N), tell me the truth. Do you like Erik?"

"Maybe." I whispered. 

"Well why haven't you asked him out yet?"

"Did you not see what happened earlier today? Erik clearly hates me, and I don't think that that's ever going to change. So why even bother." I explained as I rolled onto my back. Raven laid next to me, putting my head on her chest and rubbing my back. 

"I don't think he hates you, (Y/N). I just think he doesn't know how to properly express his feelings. He's been through a lot, so it might take a lot to bring down those walls. Just give him time, I'm sure things will fall into place." 

"You sound like our brother." I mumbled as I closed my eyes. She giggled, patting me on my arm.

"Well, I am the one who has to sit there and listen to his stupid thesis, because somebody just so happens to be asleep whenever he needs opinions."

"Yeah, well you spend enough time listening to Charles and you'll learn how to avoid his 3 hour long thesis."

----

It's been 2 weeks since the incident, and Erik hasn't even attempted to make it look like he hasn't been avoiding me. I went back to helping make final preparations for the start of school, and Erik went back to whatever the hell it was he was doing. 

"(Y/N), Charles said that he wants to talk to you in his study." Alex said as he walked up to. 

"About what?"

"He didn't say, just said that it was urgent." He walked off, leaving me to make my way to Charles' study. Wonder what he wants now. I knocked on the door, pushing the door open slightly.

"Charles? What's up?" I asked as I stepped in. Charles wasn't at his desk, but there was someone sitting in front of the desk. Erik.

"He isn't here."

"Yeah, I can see that. Guess I'll come back later." I said softly as I moved to leave the office.

"(Y/N), wait." Erik called as he softly grabbed my hand. I looked at him, then down at our hands. We've never actually touched before. "I want to apologize for what happened a few weeks ago. And for how I've been treating you ever since we met. You've done nothing to deserve that."

"Apology accepted, I guess. Is there something else you need?" I asked as I looked him in the eyes. I think I just found my new favorite shade of blue. 

"Yes there is. I guess there is no time like the present." Erik said as he looked down at me.

"What are you talking about?" 

"Follow me." He said. He didn't give me much of a choice, he just grabbed my hand and pulled me somewhere more private. He walked towards the stairwell, taking me onto the roof. 

"What, are you gonna push me off the roof or something?" I joked as I looked over the ledge. It is a pretty far drop.

"Why would I ever do that?" Erik asked as he stepped closer to me. 

"I don't know, maybe because you hate my guts." I said nonchalantly. Something flashed across his eyes, but it quickly disappeared. 

"(Y/N), I would never do anything to hurt you." Erik whispered. 

"Really? Why have you been treating me the way you have then?" I crossed my arms over my chest, tilting my head to the side slightly. 

"Because I think I love you." He said softly. My heart skipped a beat, causing my breathing to slow a little.

"What?"

"I said I think I love you. And I think I fell for you the moment that I saw you. That's why I was such an ass; I wasn't sure how to properly show you how I felt. That's not an excuse for my actions, though. You don't have to accept my confession, but I just thought that I'd let you know. I'll leave you alone for now." 

Before Erik could walk away, I grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him down so we were eye to eye. I looked in his eyes, then to his lips, then back at his eyes. "If you're going to kiss me, go ahead and do it." I said softly I gave Erik a slight smile. He leaned down some more, our lips brushing. I pulled him down more, our lips finally meeting. I've been waiting for this moment for almost 7 months now.

"Sorry, I didn't realize that I was interrupting something." Charles' voice called from the entrance to the roof. Erik and I pulled apart, turning our attention towards Charles. 

"You're always messing something up, Charles. What was it you needed?" I asked, not stepping away from Erik.

"It's not important. Carry on you two." Charles said as he made his way back into the house. I turned to Erik and slapped his chest lightly.

"You didn't think to lock the door?"

"Well to be fair, most normal people don't go onto the roof when they're looking for someone." Erik explained as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

"We both know that Charles is far from normal. He probably used his telepathic abilities to find us." He said as he looked back at the stairwell door. I giggled, turning his head back to face me and giving him a quick peck on the lips. 

"Or he set this up to get you to confess your feelings." I said as I leaned my head against his chest. He seemed to mull over the thought for a second before letting out a scoff.

"That little shit."

[ressyfaerie]

Request: I saw this tattoo programme where 2 lesbian friends went on and they got to pick the other's tattoo and they can't look till it's done. One picked "you mean everything" for the friend and she was so worried about her seeing in case she hated it. Then hers (from her friend) was "I love you". This had them all emotional and got them both to confess & get together. Anywaaaay, a similar idea for Tyka?

Sorry for the late response! I’m working again and still recovering! This is the LAST FIC REQUEST of this askbox being open!

Soooo likkee. Once upon a time I talked to someone about a tattoo shop AU? This gave me some serious inspiration sooooooo here we gooooo

Halfway through I remembered! I (mentally?) based a lot of this idea on @ishkajules tattoo tyka shop AU!

Oh, disclaimer, I want a tattoo but know NOTHING about them aaaahhhahaha

“You’re a great artist, but you’re scaring away your clients.”

“Why do you care, Tala?”

“I don’t. They come to me after you reject them, or make them so uncomfortable they sit in the next chair over.”

“So then, why are you telling me this?”

Kai cleaned his equipment. It was nearing the end of the day, he figured he wouldn’t have any more walk-in customers.

“I just thought I’d let you know. You’re losing us money. If you don’t fix it, I’ll change your pay to commission only.”

Kai scowled. Who did he think he was? Threatening his pay like that?

“Like I said. You’re a phenomenal artist. But you're lucky I hired you. No one else will with your personality.”

Kai gave him a glare, “I’ll try to do better, boss.”

“Good. Keep that mouth in check.” Tala gave him a ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

As soon as he turned away Kai rolled his eyes.

The bell in the shop rang.

“Hello! Welcome, how can we help you?” Tala welcomed the new customer with his regular fake friendly greeting.

“Hey... I’m Tyson.”

The kid seemed nervous. He didn’t have any art on his body.

Blank canvas.

“Um. Is Kai here?”

“Kai? Are you looking for him specifically?”

“Yeah! I follow his stuff on instagram and I really want my first tattoo to be done by him!”

The boy’s face brightened the whole shop. Kai’s lip curled.

“Of course! Let me get him for you!”

Tala made his way to Kai in the corner, he got up in his face.

“Listen, this kid’s a newbie—”

Kai rolled his eyes, “you know I don’t ink tattoo virgins—”

“Think of it as a blank canvas. As artists we all like a good canvas, look at him! He’s perfect!”

Kai took a look at this Tyson character. He hated to admit Tala was right. He was a good blank canvas. But Kai hated working with newbie clients; always so nervous, worried about the pain. He would just rather work with a regular.

Tala got angrier, “you will tattoo him. You’ll do exactly what he wants, and above all, you will be nice.”

“Or else what?”

Tala shrugged his shoulders and smiled, “or else you’re fired.”

Kai didn’t want to admit that Tala's threat got to him. He sighed, played off as if he was slightly annoyed but obedient, “fine.”

“Good. Now go do your job.” Tala pointed to the front desk where the new client was waiting.

Kai shot Tala a glare, as he made his way to the desk. He put on his biggest fakest smile.

“Hey, I’m Kai.”

Tyson held a backpack around his shoulder, he grasped it firmly, while giving Kai the widest grin.

“I’ve been following you for a long time! I um… decided when I had enough money I wanted my first tattoo to be done by you…”

Awkward silence.

“Uh, what do you have in mind?” Kai learned how much it hurt when you kept smiling.

“I know you specialize in birds… I would love to have a red phoenix. Eventually I want a dragon. But I’d love to start with your strongest area!”

“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Tyson watched Kai like he was a celebrity. He had a popular art account, but that was about it. Kai just stared back at him.

“Um... I think I want it on my back…” Tyson trailed off as he grew more nervous.

“That’s a good choice. Do any designs come to mind?”

Tyson bit his lip, he looked up to the ceiling in thought, “oh!” He pulled out his phone.

He passed it to Kai showing him an old post of his. It wasn’t his best work, but he understood why he liked it.

“I can do that design easily.” Kai wondered why he was so worried—”

“I just… Don’t want it exactly like this.”

Ah right. Newbies.

“So what do you have in mind then?” Kai’s eyebrow twitched.

“I um.” Tyson rubbed the back of his head as his cheeks turned a bit red.

Kai sighed, “kid, I can’t work on you if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Tala called to Kai, “Hey Kai! Don’t forget about your happy little tattoo gun over here!”

Kai reluctantly put on his big smile, “yeah boss, I haven't forgotten!”

He turned back to Tyson. “So what are your ideas?”

Tyson bit his lip.

“Do you have a reference I can make a design off of? Anything?”

“I… do.”

“Then show it to me.”

Tyson exhaled, then slid his backpack off his shoulder. He opened it and pulled out a sketchbook. He had it turned away from Kai making sure he wouldn’t see. He flipped through a few pages, and turned it towards Kai.

Kai grabbed it, and placed it down on the counter. He saw the sketch of the phoenix that was clearly an imitation of his style… with a twist.

Kai found himself impressed. It was a good design.

“I’ve worked on this for a few months… I’m pretty confident this is what I want… What do you think of it?”

Kai was trying to be extra nice, but he couldn't deny it was good. “It’s well done.”

“Thanks!” Tyson grinned.

The more Kai inspected the drawing the more detailed it became, it gave him new inspiration, a kind he never had before.

“Do you..” Kai cleared his throat and prodded the page with his finger. “Do you want this exact design or a design done by me?”

Tyson looked ecstatic, “would you be willing to make me an original design!?”

Kai thought for a moment. His original designs were usually reserved for regulars or people willing to drop more cash. But something about this design called to him…

He convinced himself he was inspired by his jealousy. He couldn't let this poor imitation see the world.

“I can make you a design based on this one.”

“Really!? Wow, thanks!”

“Can I borrow this sketch book?” Kai asked, while flipping the book closed.

“Um…”

“I need the design.”

“Could you take a picture?”

“I’d prefer to work with the original.” Kai’s lips hurt from smiling.

“Okay… You can borrow it.” It seemed Tyson was an extremely shy guy. “Be careful with it, okay?”

“I will.”

Kai stayed late in the shop. He worked in the studio.

“I’m locking up. Kai, I’m surprised you're still here?” Tala twirled the keys around his finger.

Kai was hunched over the small desk. He had already drawn out a few sketches. Tala inspected his work over his shoulder.

“Can you not?” Kai spat back.

“It’s a good design. I’m surprised you're putting so much effort into this kid's request. It’s not like you.”

Kai shrugged.

“He’s not loaded, you know? You’re not going to make up for it in tips.”

“I know.”

Tala felt a strange proud emotion emerge. “Alright,” he dropped the keys on the desk. “You can lock up. Have fun with your drawings.”

Kai watched the keys as they fell in front of him. He heard the door open, and close.

He sighed, then scrunched up the paper he was working with into a ball, and tossed it into the bin with the rest of the failed projects.

The sketchbook laid in front of him. He wanted to take a look at the design again. But he had lost the bookmark.

Shit.

He had to look through the book to find the right page.

There better not be anything dirty in here…

He opened it to another design.

Oh, wow.

It was a dragon, scribbled with faint watercolour. Kai grew curious, what other masterpieces did this book hold?

He began to flip through, curiously studying each design.

There were tons of dragons. Kai was interested, as he had always wanted a dragon tattoo, but he hadn’t yet met an artist who could ink scales the way he wanted.

These designs were so close to what he wanted, until—

He turned to a page with a very detailed dragon design. It took up the whole page. The colours were perfect, mixes of blues and silver. He was immediately captivated by it. His mouth hung open slightly.

It had been a long time since an art piece caught his attention.

He ran his finger down the page, careful not to smudge the drawing.

“Wow.”

Two days later Tyson came back to the shop, eagerly awaiting his tattoo.

Tala gestures to Kai from across the shop, pointing to the front desk where Tyson had just entered. He mouthed the words ‘be nice!’. Kai looked to the ceiling to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Kai got up from his station. The night before he had pulled an all-nighter. Until finally—he came out with the perfect piece. He knew Tyson would love it. He was upset with himself for putting so much thought into it, after all, he was just a newbie.

Kai tossed a black file folder on the desk.

Tyson jumped a bit, then settled back in with his backpack on his shoulder, “good morning, Kai!”

Kai put on a smile, “good morning.”

Tyson tilted his head, it was kind of cute, “did you manage to come up with anything? I know it hasn’t been long—”

“I did, I think you’ll enjoy it.” Kai opened the folder and revealed a paper, he placed it on the desk and flipped it around to show the blue-haired boy.

“Woah! Holy shit that’s so cool!” Tyson placed both his hands on the corners, admired it with an open mouth.

“Is it what you wanted?” Kai accidentally let his smile drop as he awaited the response.

“It’s perfect!” Tyson was so happy you could see his dimples.

It made Kai perform… maybe… a real smile.

“I have a test here, do you want to see what it would look like?”

“Can I? Oh man that’s so fucking cool…”

Kai gestured behind the desk, Tyson happily pushed himself through the gate. Kai pointed to his station “that’s my chair, put your stuff anywhere out of my way. Take your shirt off.”

Tyson suddenly stopped smiling and froze, Kai almost ran into him.

“Hey!” Kai started to lose his temper, but saw Tala’s red hair in the corner of his eye, he took a deep breath. “You said you wanted it on your back didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” Tyson answered back nervously.

Kai dropped the folder on his desk near the chair, “then take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.”

Tyson swallowed a hard lump in his throat.

Kai just stared at him.

Newbies. It’s just some skin. So annoying.

Tyson let his bag slide to the floor, he kicked it to the corner of the room, then he folded his arms.

Kai turned around, ready to place the stencil, then he frowned, “why do you still have your shirt on?”

Tyson went to say something, but stopped.

Kai sighed, “it’s just bare skin. I’ve worked on way more intimate body parts. You have nothing to worry about.”

Tyson shrugged, he acted confident but Kai could tell he was nervous. He grasped the ends of his shirt and rolled it over his head, throwing it on top of his bag.

“Now lay down.” Kai gestured to the chair that was horizontal from the last client.

Tyon nodded, and laid down in front of Kai, “is it going to hurt!?”

Kai closed his eyes for a moment, it took everything in him to not retort with sass, “it’s just a sticker, so we can determine the placement. It won’t hurt.”

Tyson nodded.

Kai flicked his arm, “you need to have your arms near your sides… like this.”

Kai had grabbed his closest arm and manipulated it like a rag doll, Tyson hid his face, hoping his idol didn’t see him blush.

“Okay, I’m applying it now.”

Kai expertly placed the test paper exactly where Tyson had described he wanted it. Along his right shoulder. Tyson barely moved, but Kai wasn’t sure how he would react when the actual inking started.

“Done. Take a look in the mirror.”

Tyson jumped up, nearly running to the full length mirror in the shop, twirling his body so he could see it better.

“Wow! It’s so cool!” His voice rang through the whole shop, even Tala’s client looked up from his chair.

“Thank you, Kai!”

“No problem.” Kai sat down in his chair, he picked up his tattoo gun and started to tinker with it, he looked at Tyson. “So are you ready?”

Tyson’s eyes grew wide, “r—right now!?”

Kai gave him a genuine grin, “no better time than the present.”

Tyson made his way back to Kai’s station. He looked down at the chair, “is it going to take a while?”

Kai nodded, “I’ll do the outline today. Then you can come back tomorrow and we will ink as much as we can.”

Tyson sat on the chair, still too nervous to lay down.

“Hey kid!”

Tyson looked around the shop for the echoing voice.

It came from the client on Tala’s chair. He was covered in different tattoos, “don’t be worried! But remember it's addicting! Once you get one you can’t stop!”

Tyson laughed, “thanks man!”

The man gave Tyson a thumbs up, Tala smirked in Kai’s direction.

He must enjoy torturing me… asshole.

Tyson gave Kai a huge smile, “I’m ready!”

“Good.” Kai had reached over to his station, he placed a pair of glasses on his face.

“You wear glasses!?” Tyson was intrigued.

“Yeah? Why is that surprising?” Kai wondered why Tyson cared so much, they just met after all.

Tyson mumbled, “you just… never shared anything on your instagram I guess…”

“There’s more to me than my online persona. Get on your stomach.”

Tyson instantly obeyed. He curled in his fists.

Kai made the necessary procedures, he wiped his back with a sterile wipe, Tyson shivered.

Kai had to bite his tongue from sighing.

“Sorry… it was cold.” Tyson muttered.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Kai tried to reassure him but realized he had never really reassured anyone before.

Kai prepared the gun, Tyson turned his head to him, “how much… is it going to hurt?”

God damn it. Why do they always ask...

“Not as much as you’re going to love it.”

Kai impressed himself with his response.

Tyson nodded, and turned his head away from Kai.

“Alright, I’m starting.”

Kai had done it a million times before, but it was Tyson’s first. When the gun first ran along his skin he tensed up, he made a quiet high pitched noise. Kai kept going.

He kept tensing up, too much, it would ruin the work, and Kai’s concentration. Kai stopped for a moment, “you have to untense. It hurts now but it’ll go numb soon, then it won’t be so bad.”

Kai just saw the back of Tyson’s head as he nodded.

Kai grasped his shoulder, “good, now untense.”

Tyson tried to loosen up, but his muscles were still tight.

“Breathe.”

Kai wasn’t sure what to do, but he still had his hand on his shoulder, he gave Tyson a gentle rub with the edge of his thumb.

He heard Tyson exhale, and his whole body relaxed.

“Good job.” Kai readjusted his glasses, and continued. He was leaning over Tyson’s body.

Tyson was aware just how close his idol was, he could feel his breathing as he worked. His face turned red. Over the next hour he grew used to it. He was loving the closeness. He was excited to see what it looked like done.

Tala was surprised, usually Kai put his earbuds in and avoided talking to clients. But this time, Kai kept glancing at Tyson’s hair, as if he wanted to say something, but was stalling. At just over the hour mark, Kai made his move.

“I have to admit. I looked through your sketchbook.”

Tyson jumped, “what?”

“Don’t move—”

“Sorry, but why did you do that?”

“I lost the page the design was on. Then I just kept looking.”

Tyson went silent, clearly he was upset.

Kai stopped for a second, “they’re really good.” he immediately started again.

Tyson went stone cold.

Kai continued, “your dragons are insanely intricate. I’ve never seen scale work like yours. Are they all original?”

Tyson hesitated, “yes…”

“I’m quite fond of the silver-blue dragon, the one near the end.”

“I know which one you’re talking about. It’s one of my favourites too.”

“Mhm.” Kai trailed off, still not ready to ask the question he wanted to.

A few hours later, Kai stopped, “I think that’s good for today.”

Kai put his equipment down, and laid his glasses back on his desk.

Tyson went to get up, “ow…”

“Sore?”

“Yeah, I’ve been in this position too long…”

Tyson slowly rose to a sitting position. Kai admired his shoulder.

It’s great work. I did well.

“I want to see it!” Tyson jumped to his feet making his way to the mirror. He looked in the mirror and gasped in awe.

Tala had approached, he observed the design and raised an eyebrow, “it’s really good, Kai.”

Kai crossed his arms, “come back tomorrow. I’ll colour it. But it will be a bit of work.”

Tala agreed, “it might be best to split the coloring into two appointments. Since it’s his first… How was it, Tyson?”

Tyson was still admiring his tattoo, “the pain? It was fine once I got used to it, Kai really helped.”

“Really!?” Tala looked at Kai in disbelief.

Kai shot him a glare.

Tyson put his shirt back on while Tala described how to take care of it. They made their way to the front desk and finished off some paperwork.

Tala had gone back to his desk, still within earshot.

“Thanks so much. Kai! It’s going to be awesome!” Tyson grinned, “but um… can I have my sketchbook back?”

Kai nodded, then went back to his station, and came back with the book, he slid it across the table, but held on to it when Tyson tried to take it.

Kai didn’t let go of the book, he looked into Tyson’s eyes, with his first genuine expression, “I have a question. About your design.”

“Huh?” Tyson looked up to Kai. He was positive there was nothing he could ask that he wouldn’t know himself.

“I want to buy it.”

“What?” Tyson’s voice rang with disbelief.

“Well, I don’t want to buy the rights. Just the design, so I can have it tattooed.”

“You want my design!?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

Tala’s ear twitched, the situation tickled his interest, and he made his way back to the counter.

“I uh—um.” Tyson was lost for words.

“How much?” Kai badgered him.

Tala intervened, “Kai leave the poor kid alone, let him think on it.”

Kai looked at Tyson, Tyson stared back.

Tyson let go of the book, “keep the book till tomorrow… I’ll think about what you said…”

Tyson backed up towards the door, “b—bye! See you tomorrow!”

He had left the shop faster than either of them could say bye.

Kai still held the sketchbook, he looked down at it. Tala was immediately furious.

“Kai Hiwatari, what the hell!? Are you an ass or head over heels? You’re going to bully some rookie artist into stealing his design? What is wrong with you—”

Kai had opened the book to his favourite page. Tala’s voice changed right away.

“Shit.”

Kai held the open book close to his chest, “I know. It’s well done.”

“You’re not kidding, here let me see—”

Kai handed him the book. Tala admired the drawing for a long time. Before flipping through the book. He let out a long high pitched whistle.

“Could you do it?” Kai asked.

“Do what?”

“Could you tattoo this for me? I want it on my right shoulder—”

Tala laughed, “no. My specialty lies in fangs and fur. I’ve never done a dragon, plus these scales… this could only be done by the original artist.”

Tala looked up from the book, “if you love this design, it has to be done by the original artist. Does he know how to use a gun?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Ah, shame.”

“How come?”

Tala went back to flipping through pages, “because I'd hire him on the spot.”

Kai was dumbfounded, “for real?”

“Absolutely.”

Dude I have so many more ideas for this AU it’s INSANE. AAAH but this is all I have time for now <3 if there’s a demand for more I might write more!

[jetaime-jespere]

Inopportune

An early Sunday morning conversation with @sweetsecretskeptinside about what could have happened pre and post Milwaukee inspired this little thing. It was meant to be a lot shorter, but you all know brevity isn’t my strength. This is rated M for smut!

As they say, timing is everything.

When Aaron slams the front door shut, he knows his marriage is over. Maybe not officially, but it’s the beginning of the very end.

 He purposefully ignored Haley’s final ultimatum, once again choosing this job over his family. And it’s not even the hurt on her face that lingers in his mind as he throws his bag into the front seat, but the fact that he didn’t even hesitate to make the choice he did. The disintegration of their marriage has built over time, an almost natural erosion of the intimacy they’d shared in the early days. What used to be Haley’s proud acknowledgement of the challenges of his job has turned into shades of resentment. It’s a constant ebb and flow of disappointment and hurt, coupled with the challenge of being rendered a single parent not in name, but in practice. Not to mention, the cold slap in the face of her all but confirmed infidelity. That had been the final straw. The worst part is, it isn’t his marriage that he grieves anymore. Grief is reserved for his son, the one whose life will soon change drastically when the inevitable happens and the papers are signed.

Aaron can pinpoint exactly when things finally spiraled past his control, much to his chagrin. The arrival of a certain dark haired agent less than a year ago, with a box in her hands and a smile on her face. They’d met before, in another lifetime, when she was barely an adult, privileged and proud, while he struggled to be one at all, barely making ends meet but worlds happier than he is now. The turning of the tables nearly makes his head spin.

And even though Aaron knows better, he’s driving to Emily’s apartment with his foot on the gas just a little heavier than usual. It’s technically against protocol to get her address from her personnel file, but he doesn’t have to, because what he’d never tell anyone is that he’s taken her home once before. Once, early on, when she needed a ride thanks to a flat tire. Twice, if he counts the time he drove them all home from the bar after New Orleans a few months ago. He’d purposefully saved her for last, and she’d fallen asleep in the front seat after dropping a very tipsy Penelope off. Emily had blushed with embarrassment when he woke her up, her eyes glassy and ringed with exhaustion, insisting that no, she hadn’t fallen asleep, and of course not, when he suggested walking her up to her door. I can walk by myself, she’d said, stumbling on her own two feet towards her building.

There’s another secret he’d never tell a soul. He kissed her once. To be fair, she kissed him back. It had been a mistake, they’re both abundantly aware of that. But San Francisco had been hell, particularly for her  - arson is never easy - and he had a front row seat to her more human side that had stayed so carefully hidden since she’d joined the team.

Aaron offered her a drink in his office upon their return, against his better judgement,  when he found her in the doorway with her reports in her hands. He doesn’t tell her they’re a few days late. He’ll cut her some slack on this one.  She quickly refused the drink, a nervous shake of her head, muttering something about getting home as she passed over the paperwork. “Have a good night, Sir.” The discomfort in her voice is evident, still unsure of how to read him.

“You did well in San Francisco.” It might be one of the first times he’s complimented her work, at least privately. “This wasn’t an easy case, you know.” His voice echoes through his empty office, and he can’t help but wonder how many more of these lonely nights he’ll have, just himself and a wayward custodian for company.

“None of them are,” Emily says somewhat dismissively with a wave of her hand and a nervous laugh. “But thank you.” She looks tired and drained. “I … appreciate that.”

“I was wrong, you know.” It’s about time he told her the truth. She’s more than proved herself at this point. “You are an asset to this team, Emily. Please know that.”  

To his surprise, she doesn’t even crack a grin, just stares at him in surprise, waiting for him to say something else.

“And I’m sorry for not acknowledging that until now.”

She nods slowly, her eyes narrowing just enough to tell him she still doesn’t fully trust him. He can’t explain why it bothers him, or the fact he’ll think about it for hours afterward.

“I’ll walk you out.” He doesn’t have to walk her out at all, they both know this, but he does, just a few inches too close to her than he should. It’s the subtle attraction to her he feels that possesses him to do it, and before he can stop himself, right before she steps into the elevator, he wraps a hand around the back of her head and kisses her, quick and chaste, on the lips.

What he didn’t expect was for Emily to reciprocate, a hand slipping around the nape of his neck. Her lips collided against his, deepening the kiss for a moment that felt frozen in time, yet all too brief. And before he can think it through, she’s pulling away, her eyes on the ground as the elevator doors open, then close, with a metronomic chime.

He stares at the closed doors for a full five minutes after she’s gone.

...

They both knew it could never happen again, and it wasn’t spoken of after that. Sometimes, Aaron has to remind himself that it actually did happen, and the fact that he even thinks of it often is another issue entirely.

And all of that aside, Emily Prentiss had surprised him. He’d all but fought against her appointment to the BAU and reluctantly agreed to give her the chance she deserved, and certainly didn’t make it easy for her in the early days and weeks. It’s a twist of irony that Haley was the one who suggested he give her a chance, for the stress of being down an agent had already taken its toll on the team but mostly him. And now, he can’t imagine the BAU without her.

Aaron knew Strauss would have it in for their team after Atlanta, Manhattan, and most recently, Flagstaff. Mistakes had been made, that he wouldn’t deny. But what he didn’t see coming was that Strauss would have gone after Emily, too. Foreign Service Exam my ass, he’d thought when she came to him with the news. He swallows angrily, yet feels an undeniable surge of pride, for she’d beat Erin at her own game by resigning. Another surprise, Aaron thinks as he makes the final turn onto her street. What he’s about to do is a gamble at best and downright stupid at worst, but it doesn’t stop him from taking the five hundred steps through her building, up the stairs, until he’s standing outside her door, his knuckles tapping against the smooth metal.

Emily clearly wasn’t expecting to see him standing there. The shock on her face is evident when she opens the door, her displeasure of him being there, in her home, even more so.

“Can I come in?”

Emily says nothing but lets him through, eyeing him warily as she closes the door behind him. It’s the first time they’ve ever been alone together, besides the kiss he’s spent months trying to forget. He wonders if she remembers it too. The silence is deafening as he takes a quick look around her apartment. The view of the Capitol is impressive, he notes with interest, before turning back to face her.

“The team needs us. They’re working a case in Milwaukee.” Best to keep it simple, he thinks. The fewer questions she asks, the better. “Gideon hasn’t shown up, and don’t tell me you quit or I put in for a transfer.”

“You put in for a transfer?” She asks with disbelief, still tense.

“They’re both still hung up in the system, so technically we’re both in dereliction of duty by not being there.” He keeps his tone even, reminds himself to keep his eyes on hers instead of letting them trail over her body.

“I’m sorry,” she says pointedly. “I can’t go.”

As he expected. “Right. Sorry I barged in.”

“Wait.” Her voice pierces the air, questioning his ulterior motives. “Can I ask - why are you really here?”

There’s the long answer and the short; he knows she’ll soon figure out both, and for a moment, grapples with his words. “I think Strauss came to you and asked for dirt on me.”

Emily stiffens, her teeth biting into her lip as her foot taps against the floor nervously at the accuracy of his statement. There it is, he thinks. He guessed correctly.

“Why would she do that?”

Aaron patiently explains his theory - the culmination of the drama with Gideon and Reid, Strauss’s desire for top leadership at the bureau, and her face twists into a frown when he reaches the final blow. “I think she put you on our team, and expected something in return.

Her reticence tells him everything he needs to know. “And to your credit, you quit. Rather than whisper in her ear.”

“I told you, I hate politics,” she shoots back, her tone full of contempt.

Aaron remembers that conversation well. It was months ago, back when he was all but annoyed by her presence, unable to admit her talent at profiling and maybe that she did belong on their team, as she insisted from day one. He’d been more than dismissive of her, and yet she’d proved herself time and time again. He’d messed up, and now it’s come to a head.

“Come to Milwaukee,” he presses her, his eyes never leaving hers. The way she bites her lip tells him she’s at least considering his request. Her head tips to the side, revealing her neck, and he swallows because his throat suddenly goes dry. “I’ll make you a deal. If your bag isn’t here, packed, I won’t bug you anymore. If it is, I want you on that plane with me. One more case.”

“I already turned in my badge and gun.” She tries to push him off but he sees right through her, unwilling to leave without her.

“That’s just hardware.”

Emily eyes him suspiciously, knowing he’s won, and she silently curses him in her mind because her bag is indeed packed, on the floor in her bedroom just a few feet away. But then something else catches her eye - something she can’t miss.

“Where’s your wedding ring, Aaron?” She asks coolly, taking full notice of his bare left hand.

The use of his first name could be considered insubordination. But, technically, she doesn’t work for him anymore, having given her resignation to Strauss, and the first thing that comes to mind is how much he likes the sound of his name rolling off her lips.

Not the time, he tells himself.

“Is that why you’re taking on this case?” Emily isn’t stupid - she’s seen the signs that things at home weren’t exactly great for him. His distraction around the team, the indifference when a well-intended question about Haley or Jack was all but brushed over. It’s been like that for weeks, and she’s too astute to not have noticed.

“My marriage is over,” he confirms, the confession ringing in the air.

Emily’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open ever so slightly, at a loss for words. She says nothing, just stares at him for a few long moments, blinking in disbelief.

“It’s been over for a long time,” he adds. “But today … I left. There’s a lot to figure out but it’s done. It’s been done.”

“And you came here?” The expression on her face is one he can’t identify but isn’t sure he wants to. There’s anger and confusion, but also intrigue, as if she learned a secret she shouldn’t ever know in the first place. “Why?”

“You belong in Milwaukee. We both do.” Maybe so, but that’s not the only reason he came here today, despite what he tells himself. He knows it, and so does she.

Emily looks indignant. “But that isn't the only reason.” She’s challenging him, calling him out on what he’s denied since that night in her office, maybe even before that. “Don’t lie to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron swallows nervously, doing his damn best to hide the fact that all he wants to do is exactly what he shouldn’t.

She steps towards him defiantly, deliberately invading his personal space. “I think you know.” There are a million reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s inevitable.

He takes a step closer, the distance between them all but closed, drawing a ragged breath that matches hers. When their lips meet for the second time he knows there’s no chance of him being able to stop things, and what comes next happens before either of them have a chance to think better of it. Aaron’s hands slide into her hair as he kisses her, pulling gently to expose her neck, and he gives her a moment to breathe as he sucks a bruise right beneath her jaw. Emily’s hands push at his shoulders, an attempt to rid him of his suit jacket, and it falls to the ground in a heap at their feet. But the sudden absence of the confines of the material gives him the leverage he needs to wrap her in his arms, and he does, anchoring her against his chest as he takes her mouth again with his own. It’s dizzying, the scent of her intoxicating as he kisses her, his tongue pushing past her lips, delving into her mouth.

Except Emily isn’t passive in her response to him, her teeth clashing against his as he explores her mouth with his own. She digs her fingers into his arms, bites at his bottom lip, sweeps her tongue across his teeth, then shifts to press her mouth to his neck as his hands drift down to the hem of her blouse. Aaron pulls away, running his thumb over her lips, cupping her chin in one hand as he looks her over.

He wants to tell her she’s beautiful but he can’t form the right words, just holds her chin in one hand, pushing her hair from her face as he slips a knee between her legs, applying pressure that causes her eyes to roll back just enough that he keeps it there. The moan that escapes and the buckle of her knees are the impetus he needs to lift her up onto the counter, a pile of mail and loose papers falling to the floor along the way.

Aaron gets his hands to the openings of her blouse, pulling too hard as the fabric tears open, falling around her shoulders. It reveals a practical beige lace bra, something he’s almost surprised to see - he had her pegged as someone who only wore red. But he deftly unhooks the back clasp, letting it fall from her shoulders, and her skin flushes scarlet as she’s bared to him. As he already anticipated, she’s as beautiful, if not more so, than he imagined. He’s done that  a few times over the last few months. He palms her ribs with gentle hands, much more gentle than his mouth had been just moments before, fingers dipping between the delicate bones and over soft skin. Emily mewls in his ear, her head tipped to the side as he explores her. His fingers smooth over her breasts, paying equal attention to each as he starts to kiss her again, then bends to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. Her hands grip the sides of his head, holding him in place as his teeth scrape and his tongue soothes, a rhythmic pattern of pressure that starts to blur her vision. Aaron’s hands span across the width of her back, his fingers stroking the delicate curve of her spine as Emily arches into his mouth, pressing herself against him.

“Aaron,” she moans, her heart fluttering against his chin, and it sounds like she’s forgotten to breathe this whole time. And when he fully stands, taking her face in his hands again, his eyes darken with lust as he kisses her, lush and full, one more time.

“Back,” he says, pushing her flat until she’s laying on the counter, hair spilling over the edge, her legs hooked over his arms. She perches on her elbows, watching him intensely with hooded eyes as he unbuttons her jeans with a deliberate slowness. His hands are steady as he drags them down over her hips and past her knees. The muscles in her stomach flutter as Aaron repositions her legs on his shoulders, carefully spreading her open to him. Emily’s back arches up even though he hasn’t even touched her as he presses kisses to the insides of her knees.

“Aaron,” she pleads again, needier this time, her eyes dark and her legs trembling on his shoulders, and when he finally touches his tongue to her clit, she doesn’t even try to muffle the sound that comes from the very back of her throat. He does it again and her hips fly up, her fingers sliding through his dark hair, then gripping his head in place. “Fuck,” Emily chokes when his tongue pushes inside of her this time, her hand dragging down her face as he continues to stroke her with his tongue languidly until her moans become constant, a beg for more. Not that she had any doubt, but he’s somehow better at this than she ever imagined.

“You should see yourself like this,” Aaron says darkly, his lips on her knee as he gives her a moment to breathe, still spread out on her counter. “You are beautiful,” he tells her and he means it, pushing her leg higher as his head ducks back between her legs, this time he sucks her clit between his lips and pushes two fingers inside of her, curling up to press against the spot his tongue had found just moments before. Emily comes almost instantly and loudly, nearly sliding right off the counter as she writhes beneath him. Aaron pulls her up to his chest, wrapping an arm around her back as she shudders against him, her skin glazed over with sweat. Emily kisses him, her hands scraping down his back as she tastes herself on his tongue, smiling into his mouth as he groans. Her arms wind around his neck, his fingers dip in the curve of her spine, a soothing comedown coupled with his voice in her ear.

Aaron is still almost fully dressed, and Emily wastes no time with the buttons of his dress shirt, almost forceful in her attempts to divest him of his clothes. “Careful,” he breathes, his hands closing around her wrists. “I only have one shirt.” He helps her get it off the rest of the way, followed by his pants and belt, and he hisses when her hand wraps around the length of him. Her own eyes widen ever so slightly, and the kiss that he presses to her forehead is reassuring as he surveys her kitchen and living room. He doesn’t want to fuck her on a counter, at least not now. “Not here,” he decides, and with more finesse than he anticipated, carefully gets her legs around his waist and lifts her up. “Bedroom?”

A jerk of her head in the general direction guides him to her room, and with her body wrapped around his, he carries her there, carefully depositing her onto her bed before he settles over her.

“Yes?” Aaron rasps, his forehead pressed against hers as her chest rises and falls in a series of breathy pants, her fingers smoothing over his cheek. Emily nods, giving him the permission he asks for, her legs closing around his hips as hovers above, lining himself up against her. The initial press of him inside, coupled with how sensitive she already is, emits a slight whimper from Emily, her eyes fluttering as she adjusts to the stretch of her body around his. It’s a few moments of complete stillness, careful kisses and gentle touches, his body spread over hers. It takes most of his effort to remain still, giving her those few moments.

“God,” Emily breathes a few long seconds later, when he’s fully seated, her eyes locked on his. At her insistence he moves, a series of tentative thrusts that only leave her needing more, her legs tightening around his back to keep him as close as possible. He begins to thrust faster, every drive of his hips pushing her higher and him too.

“You feel amazing, Emily,” he encourages as her hips meet his thrusts, a rhythm that comes almost easily to them both. “So fucking good.” His movements become erratic as he nears the end, but he’s determined for her to go first. “Come for me,” he murmurs into her ear, lifting her legs over his shoulders in one smooth motion. The change of angle nearly sucks the air right out of her lungs. “Come on,” he coaxes one more time with a firm push of his hips. “One more time.”

Emily gasps then curses faintly when she finally clenches around him, Aaron sealing his mouth over hers to stifle the scream that would most definitely be heard by anyone in the apartment next to hers. The sensation of her fluttering around him, moaning his name, her nails scraping down his back are enough for him to follow suit, and he kisses her once more before tipping over the edge too, spilling into her with a groan.

Aaron buries his face in her chest, Emily’s hands hold his head in place, for another few peaceful moments, ones that will soon vanish.

…

When it’s over, Aaron can’t help but feel inordinately guilty. He isn’t exactly sure why, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him he fucked this up, royally. Not because of what might wait for him beyond the confines of her apartment, but because now she’s a part of the mess he’s in, whether she likes it or not. Just add it to the list.

This shouldn’t have happened, he thinks as they search through the pile of clothes on the floor - some his, some hers - and it’s an awkward, side-stepping dance around one another, the first of many.

“You ruined my shirt, you know.” Emily holds up the torn halves of her red blouse, covering herself with her other free hand. Her skin is still flushed, her hair askew, and he wants to tell her she has other things to worry about right now than a torn shirt. Like the rapidly forming bruise on her neck, thanks to his teeth, or the scrapes that undoubtedly mar the smooth skin of her back, because he’d gone a little too far. It’ll be hard to explain that bruise (and any others that might appear) once they get to Milwaukee.

“You mean to tell me you don’t have another one?” Aaron quips,  busying himself with fixing his suit jacket, fastening his belt, taking note of his own appearance in the mirror. There’s a small bite mark on his neck that’s easily hidden by his collar, and a few on his shoulders. She’d given as good as she got, clearly.

Yet no one will suspect a thing. As it should be.

Emily scoffs, rolling her eyes as she disappears into her room, grumbling about it being an expensive shirt, but he barely hears her. Instead, the events of the last half hour replay on loop in his mind, one he won’t forget for quite some time. The tension between them hangs in the air even after the bathroom door closes, the sound of the shower permeating his thoughts.

This all just got a hell of a lot more complicated, and it’s just the beginning.  

“Don’t we have a plane to catch?” Emily impatiently taps her foot against the floor a half an hour later, dressed in different clothes - a pink shirt and a different pair of jeans. The marks on her neck are covered, he notices. Somehow he still manages to stare at her, despite his best intentions not to. “Or are you just going to sit there thinking about how you just fucked me for the next thirty minutes?”

By the time Aaron has processed what she just said, she’s already halfway out the door of her apartment, and all he can do is follow her to the car.

…

As he expected, Milwaukee is a mess. Strauss’s presence doesn’t make anything easier, and he certainly wasn’t expecting Emily to take matters into her own hands and almost get herself killed at the hands of Joe Smith. But it’s what happens, and less than twenty-four hours after showing up in her apartment, he watches from a safe distance as a paramedic cleans and dresses the wound on her forehead.

“How’s your head?”

“I’ll live,” Emily says with a wince. It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s lying right through her teeth, because she’s clearly in pain, not that she’d ever admit it. “But is it weird I’m glad to be back?”

“I’ll make sure it stays official.” It’s all he can say with the rest of the team hovering close by. He makes a mental note to order her to get medical clearance before she returns to the field as he moves closer to Strauss. She’s clearly ready with a few choice words of her own, having watched them all like hawks as Joe Smith was led away in handcuffs, his son in the back of a police car. There isn’t much to convince themselves this was a win. It’s anything but that - women murdered, a child’s life forever changed. Not at all a win. In fact, it feels like a loss.

As if today couldn’t get any more complicated.

…

Aaron drives her back to her apartment, because once they get back to Quantico, Emily realizes she has no other way of getting home. She’s taking out her phone to call a cab when he’s at her side, a gentle hand pressed to the small of her back with an offer to drive.

It makes her flinch and yet she’s too tired to turn him down; the thought of riding in the backseat of a bumpy cab down 95 makes her stomach churn. So she agrees reluctantly, and sits as far away from him as she can in the passenger seat of his sedan. And history repeats itself once again when she firmly refuses his offer to help her get settled.

Not a chance, she thinks, her mind flashing back to the events of the day before. She’s smart enough to know it’s only a matter of time before it happens again.

...

Emily showers and changes into sweatpants, being careful to avoid irritating the wound on her forehead. It still hurts; she knows it will for a few days, and that doesn’t begin to cover the headache that throbs through her temples. Only when she’s taking another dose of Advil does she hear the knock at the door.

A glance through the peephole makes her blood pressure rise. “What are you doing here?” She sighs tiredly. “You came all the way back to check on me? I told you, I’m fine. I have a headache. I will live.”

“I never left.” Aaron says honestly and simply, shifting from foot to foot outside her door. He feels exposed, scrutinized under her gaze.

“You’ve seriously been waiting outside my door all this time? You don’t think that’s a little … invasive?” She sounds annoyed and rightfully so. He has no right to be there in the first place. Just because they fucked once and kissed twice doesn’t give him those privileges.

His jaw flexes, a hand runs through his hair. “I sat in the car for a little while.” Admitting it sounds a lot worse than he anticipated. In fact, she looks downright annoyed at his revelation. “Can I come in? Please?”

And for the second time she relents with a heavy sigh, letting him past. “Fine. What the hell is going on?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He stands a little closer than he did before, reaching out with an unsteady hand to touch the gauze pad on her forehead. “I was worried … I am worried.”

“I’ve had concussions before,” she tells him curtly. “This is no different.”

“Then you should know you shouldn’t be alone.”

Emily laughs bitterly, now fully aware of his intentions. “And you think you’re going to stay here? Keep me company?” She waits, her hands on her hips with a shake of her head. “Or are you here because you can’t go back home?”

Aaron opens his mouth to speak, attempting to smooth things over because clearly something has changed since Milwaukee, but she cuts him off again.

“No. I can’t do this. I’m not your rebound until you figure things out.” Her eyes flash with anger, maybe even a touch of regret, which only makes him feel worse about it all. Maybe it should never have happened in the first place.

“There’s nothing to figure out,” he attempts weakly. “That’s not what I -”

“You need to figure things out with your wife, Aaron. What happened between us was a mistake. One we’re equally responsible for. But it cannot happen again.” She folds her arms over her chest, already going for the door to throw him out.  

“Emily - “

“Go home, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.” While she wears a brave face, there’s no hiding the disappointment in her eyes, the subtle hurt she undoubtedly feels at knowing all of this was never supposed to happen. Only then does it come to him that maybe, just maybe, she wanted it just as much as he did, and knows it can never be. “And don’t worry. The secret is safe with me.”

He’s about to object - to tell her what he should have already said -  when the door slams in his face.

[unknownwriting]

Strawberry Kisses

Summary: The reader has new Chapstick and Sanji can’t figure out the new flavor. 

Character(s): Vinsmoke Sanji

Song Inspiration: Strawberry Kisses by Olivia Herdt

Word count: 2.6k

Notes: tbh I’m not sure how I feel about this but imma post it anyways. When I was writing it I was reading Host Club sooo Sanji might act a bit like Tamaki because I can’t help see them as the same person 😭

━━☆⌒*.

It’s the same routine for every morning. Sanji would wake up early to cook breakfast for the crew while he leaves his lover asleep. He would love to wake her up to have someone to talk to this early in the morning but he knows well enough not to wake Y/n this early in the morning. The blonde cook lingers in bed for a moment longer looking down at his sleeping lover. They didn’t have a big bed but that didn’t seem to matter, they were all upon each other. Y/n was curled up into his chest while one of his arms draped over her hip. It was a good thing the 2 of them don’t move much when they sleep. Sanji pulled her closer and watched her steady breathing. Her h/c hair was an absolute mess and her mouth hung open, leaving a small trail of drool onto the pillow. Saying she looked like a mess would be an understatement but that what he loves about her.

Sanji felt so bad leaving. He didn’t want to leave her alone but someone’s gotta cook the food for their rowdy crew. With one last squeeze, which caused a small groan to escape from Y/n’s lips, Sanji softly kissed her exposed forehead and finally began to his day. An hour without Y/n is never that bad. And soon enough an hour came and gone like it was nothing. One by one his crew mates began to fill the kitchen. Sanji finished up the last of the food preparation, making sure to leave a small port soon to the side for Y/n. She’s always the last one to wake up in the morning, and because the food never last longer than 5 minutes, he always make sure Y/n has food before anyone else. Y/n finally made it to the lively kitchen, upon seeing her still half asleep mood his face lit up. She just as beautiful as ever, even if her hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in days. Sleep still clouded her actions as she stumbled her way to the hip of her lover. It took her a while for her eyes to adjust but once they did and landed on Sanji, her face lit up.

“Mornin’!” Y/n giggled, pressing herself up against the male wanting to feel his body warmth again. Sanji scoffed at the action as her took on of his arms and snaked it around her waist.

“Did you sleep well, princess?” Sanji questioned as he leaded down and gave her a small peck on her lips. Y/n scrunched up her nose for the early morning touch before she smiled and returned the peck.

“Amazing, as always.” She sighed, wiggling out of his grasp so she can finally eat breakfast. The 2 of them has been dating for a while. And of course, that doesn’t mean didn’t have a rocky start. With Sanji’s obsession with girls it was bound the be a struggle. Luckily, the love Y/n felt for him was strong enough to look past it. They had worked though it and seeing how Sanji‘s obsession with girls isn’t gonna stop anytime soon, Y/n trust Sanji not to do anything (thankfully Y/n doesn’t get jealous easily either). Surprisingly, it’s been smooth sailing so far, give or take. 

With Sanji being a passionate lover and all, it was also no surprise that he knew almost everything about Y/n. From her favorite foods (duh) to her secrets to and even when it was her time of the month. It was creepy but in a nice way. And so it’s safe to say that he also knows what her kisses taste like. In the morning her kisses always taste like mint because of the chapstick she puts on after brushing her teeth. It was probably the best thing in the world to the lovesick cook, he had easily got use to it when they started dating. However this morning was different, she didn’t taste like the normal mint, she tasted fruity. His blue eyes trailed over to his lover who now sat at the table with the others, talking about todays plans. With the flavor still lingering on his lips, he continued to try and figure out what the flavor could be. His eyes watched as her glossed lips curled into a smile, as if she was teasing him. Taking a moment to try and figure out what the flavor is himself, he let out a soft hum as he joined Y/n at the table. At first she didn’t bother to look over seeing how she was enjoying her conversation with Usopp and Nami, but once Sanji’s large hand rested on her thigh, she glanced over at him. Sanji did not waste a minute, once Y/n looked over at Sanji, he attcked her lips once again. She let out a small yelp from the sudden action and placed her hand on his chest to try and push him back. 

Nami and Usopp, who were both having a conversation with Y/n simply rolled their eyes at the couple before continuing their conversation without her. It common to find Sanji doing those type of things. Random kisses and hugs, random burst of ‘I love you’, cheesy date nights. It doesn’t take a genius to learn he’s a hopeless romantic. Of course that doesn’t stop the crew from reacting themselves. Zoro would complain about it, Nami and Usopp would yell at him for when he gets to cheesy, or when he makes Y/n embarrass, or does it at an inapporapte time, and Robin, Franky and Brook would always comment on how flustered Y/n ends up getting. Even if it does annoy the others and makes Y/n embarrassed sometimes, they all know he means well. Finally Y/n efforts of pushing against him payed off. Sanji finally back off of Y/n giving her space and her mouth back so she can eat. Catching her breath, Y/n looked at Sanji with her eyebrow raised, “What’s this about?”

“Your chapstick...It’s different.” Sanji muttered, trying to focus on the flavor. He was a cook for god’s sake and he can’t even figured out a the flavor of Y/n chapstick even if it is artificially flavored. Adrianna saw the look of confusion on his face as he was deep in thought. It was rare to see Sanji like this, normally he would swoon over it and make those weird faces but this time was different. His swirled eyebrows furrowed together and his blue eyes staring at her lips, hoping to get an answer. It was one of the very rare moments when Sanji’s actually cute.

“Yeah, I ran out of the other one. You like it?” Y/n giggled, as she turned back to her food.

“I’m not sure. What flavor is it?” 

“Hmm.” Y/n hummed wondering if she should tell him or not. There were pros and cons of telling him and not telling him. If she doesn’t tell him then she can see this rare cute side of Sanji that she doesn’t get the see often but if she doesn’t tell him then she has no idea what is gonna happen if she doesn’t. The last time Y/n tried, keyword tried, to tease Sanji they end in the bedroom for the rest of the night. It safe to say it was a long night that night. But on the other hand, Y/n doesn’t get to see Sanji cute like this often, so even if they end up in the bedroom, it would be worth. A small smirk played on her lips as she looked back up and Sanji, “I’m not telling..”

ミ☆

Y/n was surprised she was able to last this long.  Ever since Y/n brought up the challenge, it was like every chance Sanji got the 2 of them were kissing.  When they pass each on the ship, when Y/n asks for a glass of water, even when she was in the middle of training he found some way and excuse to kiss her. What really got to her the most was she never knows what type of kiss it was gonna be: small and quick or deep and passionate. If she knew he was gonna be the egar to figure it out she would’ve just told him. Luckily lunch was right around the corner so Sanji had to spend time preparing food for the others, leaving Y/n alone for a while, even if it’s only 30 minutes. The h/c colored girl was more than happy to take this time to relax with Nami and Robin. Nami was sunbathing and Robin was reading, Y/n also wanted to join Robin in reading however the book she picked laid in her lap, untouched. Instead all she ended up doing it staring off into the distance running a finger along her lips.

“...I think they’re swollen.” Y/n muttered to herself as she dropped her hand to her side and laid down. She clearly bit off more than she can chew. Y/n meant to keep the comment to herself seeing how she got herself into this mess yet Robin clearly heard her. 

“Are you feeling ok, Y/n?” She glanced over at her younger friend and questioned. Noticing that Y/n seemed to be lost and thought, Robin didn’t want to bother her so she went back to reading her book until Y/n let out a heavy sign.

“My lips are swollen and it’s only noon. This is not how I’d imagine it.” Y/n explained as she looked over to the other girls.

“You’re dating Sanji, how did you think it was gonna go?” Nami scoffed as she lifted up her sunglasses and looked over at Y/n. Nami was right, she should’ve expected this from the ero-cook but she couldn’t help herself; Sanji looked to cute. 

“I know, I know. But Sanji just looked so cute. I mean, when was the last time he looked cute and didn’t make those stupid faces. and plus he knows everything about me, so you can’t blame me for wanting to keep at least one thing a secret from him.” Y/n defeaned then pointed to her lips and exclaimed, “But I never wanted this!!”

“Someone as naïve as you should not be dating someone like Sanji.” Nami shook her head. Her brown eyes had quickly fallen on the certain blonde cook as he made his way over to the 3 of them. Before he approached them he put out his cig and shoved his hand back into his pocket, fiddling with something. Y/n who was leaning back into her chair with her eyes closed didn’t even hear him approach them. Only when Sanji had pushed a few piece of hair out of her face did she jolt awake. Seeing his blue eyes, Y/n took a defensive state waiting to see if he was gonna kiss her again. A soft chuckle left his lips before he looked over at the girls and fell right back into character. 

“Nami-sawnn~~ Robin-chwann~~ Lunch is ready~!!” Sanji swooned as he spun in front of the 2. They glanced over at Y/n for a moment but then back at Sanji. Thanking him, they left the 2 alone on the main deck. It was probably the best thing to do for now. Seeing the smirk on his lips when he looked over at Y/n and the way he played with something in his pocket, Nami and Robin had figured that Sanji had finally found the answer to his question. Robin let out a soft giggle while Nami sighed heavily as they made their way to the kitchen. Once the 2 had left the couple alone, Sanji took a seat next to Y/n. She watched him with a close eye, making sure he doesn’t pull a fast one. He let out a chuckle as he finally pulled out what he was playing with in his pocket. Y/n raised an eyebrow as she eyed the object but it didn’t take long before her fact lit up with relief.

“Underneath our pillows is not the best hiding spot.” Sanji stated, placing the tube of chapstick onto the table next to them. “Oh thank god! I was scared you were never gonna find it and this game was gonna go on all day.” Y/n let out a heavy sigh as she adjusted herself in her seat, “Just for the record we are never doing that again.”

“You were the one who started it?” 

“Yeah I know, and I was stupid. If you kissed me anymore my lips were gonna fall off.” Y/n pointed to her red swollen lips, “Look. They’re all swollen. Now imma have to put Chopper’s nasty medicine on them.”

“Ohh~ but I couldn’t help myself, Y/n-chwann~~!! Your lips are just so soft and cute~~!!” Sanji swooned as he engulfed Y/n into a hug. She let out a shreak from the sudden hug. As much as Y/n loves Sanji, she is so over him today. From all the kisses Y/n wanted more than to be left alone for a day or 2, however Y/n knows she just can’t get rid of Sanji that easily. Maybe that’s what she loves him so much because no matter what Sanji’s always there, whether she wants him to be or not. From kisses, to laying in bed together, to just enjoying each others company, he’s always with her. Even though Y/n was annoyed with him, she couldn’t help but smile as she squirmed against him. 

“S-sanji let go. I wanna eat my food before Luffy does.” Y/n laughed, trying to break free from his grip. However, he wasn’t gonna let go anytime soon. 

“You know I always save you a plate.” Sanji loosed his grip on Y/n as his hands fell down to her waist. She decided to stop squirming against him and just enjoy his warmth. They sat in silence for a moment, simply just enjoying each other company and listening to the waves crash against the ship. Moment like these were always the best to Y/n. Doing nothing and just enjoying each other presences, however, seeing how it’s lunch time, Y/n just wants to eat. She squirmed against him once again finally telling him to let go. Y/n had wasted no time making her way to the kitchen either, with Sanji following close behind her. 

“So..” Y/n started, grabbing Sanji’s attention. The hum from him had told Y/n she could continue, “Which flavor did you like better?”

“Hmm...” Sanji trailed off, trying to remember the flavor of mint. He was used to the minty flavor but the new fruity flavor wasn’t bad either. Y/n looked up at Sanji trying to read is facial expression to get a hint or something to see what flavor to get next time. Before she could even process the look on his face, Sanji dipped down again and capture Y/n’s glossed lips once again. She gasped once again, surprised that Sanji kissed her again even after she told him her lips were swollen. Luckily the kiss didn’t last long, Sanji pulled back and licked his lips, tasting the flavor of artificial strawberry. Y/n puffed out her cheeks in frustration from the kiss while Sanji finally gave his answer. 

“The strawberry flavor isn’t bad. I like that one.” Sanji answered as the 2 of them stopped right in front of the kitchen door.

“M’kay.” Y/n nodded, noting the information, “Good then because after today I'm only gonna switch between these 2.”

“Huh? Your not gonna change it again?” Sanji asked, sounded disappointed.

“Of course not.” Y/n stated as if was common sense. He let out a disappointed sigh at the fact that he wont be able to kiss Y/n that much again but now that he thinks about it, he probably did take it a bit over board. He had good intentions though. Y/n spun around on her heel and faced the door but right before opening it, she glnaced back at Sanji and added on, “Oh and to let my lips heal, not kissing for 2 days. At least!”

“Whaa-! 2 days!? But Y/n-chwan I can’t do that. I gotta kiss you.”

“Well you should’ve thought about before you kissed me every 5 minutes today. You probably have enough kisses from me to last 4 weeks.”

[yehet-about-it]

I Like Me Better | 17 - Apology

~ A Wayv Social Media AU Series ~

< Prev || Series Masterlist || Next >

Synopsis: You’ve just moved into a new apartment with your best friend Yangyang, but you’re immediately faced with a problem: your incredibly noisy upstairs neighbour Xiao Dejun, or to friends, Xiaojun. You spend the first few weeks of your acquaintance hating his guts, but after a sincere apology and a fascinating revelation about his passions and motivations you slowly begin to see past his cold exterior to discover the real him. What will happen as you get closer to this troubled boy and how will those closest to you react?

Pairing: Reader x Xiaojun

Themes and Warnings: Explicit language, mild sexual content, mild violence and references to drinking/alcohol. Deals with themes of toxic masculinity, insecurity, gaslighting (sort of), and jealousy…

Disclaimer: All work is fictional, and not an accurate depiction of any real people mentioned within the story, nor is it intended to be an accurate or realistic depiction of said people.

Words: 2.2k

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“Hey.”

“Hey.” The atmosphere was awkward as you stood in the lobby of your apartment building having agreed to talk with Xiaojun. You had slipped out unnoticed by Yangyang, who would most likely be none too pleased at your willingness to spend time with the man who had inadvertently given you a bruised neck during his drunken tirade, and not in the pleasant way.

You turned left out of your building, following Xiaojun in silence until he spoke up again. “Are you okay to walk? I know it’s hot but there’s this place I know a mile or two away I thought we could go to.” You confirmed you were okay, having dressed appropriately in shorts and sneakers and sidled up to Xiaojun so you were walking side by side. You were thankful for the noise of the city as you walked, the both of you hesitant to start the conversation you knew you needed to have. “So uh.” Xiaojun chewed on his lip as he tried to find the right words to start, a habit he’d picked up over the years when he was nervous. “I really am sorry about the other night y/n. I really regret what I said, it was awful and I was drunk and- and just angry about some stuff, so I understand if you don’t like me, but I really want to make things right.” You nodded slowly, taking in his words. “Yeah, it was pretty awful… but I don’t think you’re a bad guy Xiaojun, you’re just- just kina frustrating. I think I can forgive you, but I just wanna know why you lashed out like that…” Since that day you went to his café, you had realised Xiaojun wasn’t just the stoney, cold bad boy he seemed to be on the surface; that there was a much softer and gentler side to him. When you saw his face light up at the sight of Bella, and the genuine carefree smile on his face when he held her, to the serene look on his face as he strummed on his guitar. It all told you there was something more to this boy, and you wanted to find out what. You wanted to find out why he was such a stubborn ass, when he was clearly a softie deep down. And you wanted to know why he fought with his friends so much. Xiaojun sighed deeply at your request. “Lucas,” he said grimly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He was going on at me about… stuff. He’s one of my best friends but he can be a right jerk.” You scoffed at the irony and Xiaojun looked at you. “Yeah takes one to know one right? But you know, he’s this big ripped model and thinks he’s invincible, while I’m just this scrawny little nobody… He’s always bragging about girls and telling me how useless I am when it comes to that, and the other night he just took it too far. I guess he got in my head and I didn’t handle it well, and I took it out on you, so I’m sorry…”

Your eyes softened a little as you listened to Xiaojun rant. You never imagined that he’d be holding on to insecurities like that, let alone that one of his own best friends would be rubbing it in his face. You knew boys bantered over stuff like that, but it’s small things like that which can trigger peoples insecurities and produce some grim results, so you could understand where Xiaojun was coming from. “Oh… Lucas did mention something like that…” Xiaojun looked at you in annoyance. “Of course he did,” he grumbled. There was a pause before Xiaojun spoke again. “So, do you think you can forgive me? And I promise I’ll keep my music down or wear headphones from now on too.” You chuckled at his last statement. “Yeah, I think so. I get why you were annoyed, Lucas is a bit… much. But you shouldn’t have brought my friends into it. And next time? Maybe go a little easier on the liquor.” “Next time?” Xiaojun said playfully, his expression turning into a smirk, to which you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, sorry, I know. I promise it won’t happen again y/n.” “Well thank you, apology accepted.” A small smile played on Xiaojun’s lips as you answered, mostly out of relief, but also out of astonishment at your forgiveness. In truth, he’d been a complete and utter asshole, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if you despised him and had said you never wanted anything to do with him ever again, but mercifully, you hadn’t.

You continued the rest of your walk quietly, making small talk about how long he’d lived in Hannam, who Renjun was and so forth. Eventually you came to a small trail on a hill around the back of the infamous “Hannam The Hill” complex, that led to a small viewpoint, shrouded in trees. “Wow, I never knew this was here…” You breathed as Xiaojun led you out onto the platform, overlooking most of Seoul. “Yeah, not many people know about it. I come here when I need to think,” Xiaojun admitted leaning forwad on the wooden barrier. “It’s beautiful, you can see so much of the city…” You stopped gazing out across the city as you caught your breath from the climb. Who knew Xiaojun was the sort to come somewhere as pretty as this in his down time? Really you were humbled that he trusted you enough to bring him to such a private place for him. “Heh, yeah it’s pretty nice, especially at night. Helps me clear my head.”

You spent the next few moments in comfortable silence, appreciating the view, feeling the warm sun oon your face. You’d just closed your eyes, embracing the little bit of fresh air you were getting as a change from the usual stuffy dusty air of the city when Xiaojun spoke again. “Thank you y/n…” You blinked back at him. “For what?” You asked, puzzled. “For being so patient, and giving me another chance. Not many people do…” Your heart pounded in your chest, stunned by the moment of sincerity. “You don’t need to thank me Dejun, everyone deserves a second chance,” you said, smiling softly back at him. “I think you’ve given me more than two chances. And I really mean it. You’ve been more patient than most. I mean, you even came to see me sing at that dumb café. That… really meant a lot. My musical career hasn’t exactly taken off and at this point I’ll take all the audience I can get….” You looked Xiaojun in the eyes to respond sincerely, but saw an indescribable sadness in them that made your heart sink. “Really it mas my pleasure but… that must be hard,” you whispered. “You could say that. Doesn’t help when your dad and brother are always on your case about why you’re not getting anywhere, telling you ‘you’re wasting your life in Korea’, and that ‘if you’re still working at that coffee bar in 12 months you’re coming back to China’… Just because they’re big hotshots in the industry back home.” Here was the baggage you had been looking for. You had guessed he had more on his plate than he let on, and clearly this was it. You didn’t know why he was trusting you with all this, but you were glad he was. “Wow… That’s rough, I can’t believe they’d say that to you…” Your brows furrowed as you took in everything Xiaojun was saying, and you couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards him. “Yeah well I’ve dealt with it most of my life. The successful favorite brother. I’m just the failure. You know, your friend called me that, ‘a failed musician’…” “He did what?!” Your eyes widened at what Xiaojun had just told you. You couldn’t believe that Kun of all people would say that to him. You were definitely having words. “Heh, don’t worry I’ve been called worse, I’m used to it…” Xiaojun snorted indignantly. “No, no that’s not okay… Kun should know better…” You shook your head, genuinely feeling a little guilty. “Really its fine, it was a heat of the moment thing. And I guess after what I said on Saturday it can be forgiven…” You nodded. “Still, he shouldn’t have said that. It’s a hard industry to get into and you’re trying your best. Your voice is incredible Xiaojun, any label would be lucky to snap you up. It just takes a little more exposure, putting yourself out there, and I’m sure you’ll make it.” Xiaojun looked genuinely taken aback. “Well it’s definitely not as simple as that, but thanks.” There was a bashful smile on his face as he thanked you, seeming genuinely grateful for your compliment.

As the conversation stilled, you stood against the wooden fence of the observation deck, taking in the view of the city in silence and feeling the cool breeze trickling through your hair, providing some relief from the hot sun. Then you had a thought, as you realised there was still something you hadn’t cleared up. “By the way,” you looked up at Xiaojun, a small smirk on your face. “It’s really not like that with me and Kun…” Xiaojun looked at you quizzically. “He’s pretty much like my big brother. I’ve known him since I was in middle school. His parents are friends with mine and he went to school with my brother… I guess he’s always just looked out for me like a little sister. He looks out for all of us. So you can drop the whole sugar daddy thing.” Xiaojun snickered. “Heh yeah. Sorry about that… Guess I was just jealous,” he admitted, much to your surprise. “Oh…” you said, flushing a little and clearing your throat. “You know, I think if you two gave eachother a chance, you might get on.” You brushed Xiaojun’s comment off choosing to ignore it and work on reconciling him and Kun. Xiaojun scoffed. “I don’t think he’ll be willing to give me another chance after everything, especially that,” he said pointing to the bruise on your neck. “Well I don’t know, I have,” you shrugged. “Kun’s a good guy, he doesn’t hold grudges for long unless you really deserve it.” You paused, contemplating whether to tell Xiaojun what you were going to say next. “He’s a producer you know...” “What?” Xiaojun looked at you in surprise. “Kinda big time. He’s worked on some pretty big songs.” You knew Kun was going to be utterly mad at you for attempting to use him to help this guy, but nevertheless you wanted to try and give Xiaojun at least a little bit of hope, something positive to pull him out of his head. “Woah. Didn’t really have him down as the musical type.” “Oh really? What type did you have him down as then?” You said, playfully challenging Xiaojun to make another quip about Kun. “Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t put that much thought into it to be honest.” You both laughed, the glowing sun lighting up Xiaojun’s face as his eyes creased in genuine, happy laughter. “Well, maybe one day I can introduce you properly, he might be able to help you”. “Yeah one day. Let’s just focus on getting him to not hate me first,” Xiaojun said cynically, but with a tone of amusement in his voice.

You laughed, relieved that you could no longer feel the tension that had been between the two of you earlier, and that Xiaojun now seemed to have a genuine smile on his face. All the angst that had been clouding his aura before was now gone for the most part, and you happily enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, chatting and embracing the peace of Xiaojun’s little sanctuary. And when you got home, despite Yangyang’s nagging, you were filled with a resolve to actually make an effort with Xiaojun and get to know your mysterious neighbour.

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[babycracker]

3 tiiiny mini fics (around 600 words each) ig that no one asked for but i wrote and decided to post anyway. hoping i got my timing right and these actually get posted on what will still be v-day for the majority.

--

Jordam “It was not necessary for you to gift me anything,” Adam insists, staring down at the small box that Jordan’s holding out to him.

“If I thought it was necessary I wouldn’t have done it,” she tells him, rolling her eyes at his hesitancy to take the gift before grabbing his hand. She turns it so that his palm is facing up and places the box on his hand, then wraps his fingers around it for him before letting go. “Look how easy it is to accept something you’re not expecting.”

He sighs heavily at her mockery, still eyeing the parcel suspiciously. As though no one’s ever given him a gift before. She supposed that maybe no one has, the more she thinks about it. At least not for a very, very long time.

“What is it?” he asks slowly, and she returns his sigh and folds her arms across her chest.

“What would’ve been the point of me putting it in a box if I was just going to tell you what it is?”

“I do not pretend to understand the Valentine's day traditions anymore,” he answers bluntly, and she wonders not for the first time why she even bothered. She knows that he would’ve been perfectly happy to let this day pass as any other, but this is something she’d been wanting to give him for quite a while now, but every time she’s tried he’s found a way to refuse it and claim that it’s unnecessary. If it’s a gift, he can’t give it back or refuse it.

“Just open the bloody thing, Adam.”

He frowns at her but caves in, delicately untying the ribbon with more care than she’d expected and cracking the box open to peer inside. “What is this?”

She grins at him as he pulls the key out of the box and looks at her curiously. “It’s a key, genius.”

“That much is clear. A key to what?”

“My heart,” she can barely keep from laughing even as she says it. He just frowns at her, clearly not amused by her teasing. “It’s a key to my apartment, you idiot.”

“I have already told you-” he begins sternly, but she holds a hand up to cut him off.

“I have a card to get into your place, I want you to have a key to get into mine.”

“You were given a card because this is your home just as much as it is mine.”

“And I want my home to be yours just as much as mine,” she argues, but he holds the key out to her.

She rolls her eyes again and takes it from him, but then steps up close and wraps her arms around his waist before sliding the key into his back pocket.

“Hasn’t anyone taught you that it’s rude to return a gift?” she scolds him quietly, smirking up at him when his expression softens and he seems to be giving in.

“Very well,” he answers after a moment, seeming at a loss for words and perhaps a little overwhelmed by the amount of trust in him that her gift hints at.

“Besides, what if something happens one day and you need to get in? I don’t want you breaking my bloody door,” she adds, trying to lighten up what has somehow become a very intense atmosphere over what she thought wasn’t quite this big of a deal.

He chuckles - one of her favourite sounds - and surprises her by winding his arms around her in return and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

--

Faya Felix is far too excited. At least that’s what Mason keeps telling him. But really, Felix feels that he’s exactly the right level of excited and no amount of ridicule will convince him otherwise. After all, this is his first Valentine's day. Well, not his first obviously. But his first one that he gets to spend with someone that he’s actually in love with. Maybe… maybe he’s not excited enough, even. Maybe he should be dressed a little nicer, maybe he should have planned something a little fancier, maybe he hasn’t gone all out after all, there’s always room for improvement, maybe there’s still time to-

“Breathe,” Nate speaks calmly from beside him, and Felix frowns up at him.

“Why?”

Nate sighs, endlessly patient usually but even he is starting to tire of it, eager now for Maya to show up so that Felix can stop stressing and just get his big night under way. “You know what I mean. Relax.”

“I’m relaxed,” Felix ignores the disbelieving quirk of an eyebrow that Nate gives him, his gaze darting around the room before shifting back to the door of Maya’s apartment.

What if she hates it? What if she’s mad that he let himself into her home? But then she gave him a key, right? So that has to mean that she’s okay with him being here without her, right? But what if she’s mad that Nate’s with him? No, that’s silly, she loves Nate. What if she just doesn’t like what he’s done in here? Oh God, he doesn’t even know what colours she hates. What if she hates pink? What if she hates red? No, pink is her favourite colour. But red? What if she hates it?

He eyes the red streamers twisted and twirled around the pink ones that he’s hung around her apartment. Too much work to take them down now with the way they’re all wrapped together. He’d never finish it in time before she-

His chaotic thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a key in the door, and Nate gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “She’ll love it.”

“We’re about to find out,” he answers with uncertainty just as Maya steps through the door and looks around the room in shock.

Oh God, she hates it. She hates it so much. So much that she’s… laughing? Wait, what?

“What have you done?” she asks, still chuckling as she walks over to him and wraps her arms around his waist. He returns the hug automatically, though he’s not sure what to make of her reaction. The way Nate gives him a thumbs up and a wide grin as he quietly makes his way out of the room offers a little comfort, though.

“Um, well. I’ve never spent Valentine's day with someone that I love, so I wanted to make sure the first one was special,” he explains, hoping that his reasoning makes as much sense out loud to her as it does to him in his head.

She lets go and steps back so that she can look up at him and he’s relieved to see that she’s smiling. He awkwardly gestures around the enthusiastically decorated room. “So what do you think?”

“It’s perfect!” she answers, the brightness of her smile and the excitement of her answer matching the bright, colourful way he’d decorated her living room. “I agree, this year should be extra special.”

“Oh, good,” Felix breathes out a sigh of relief.

“But you know,” Maya adds wrapping him up in a hug again and resting her cheek against his shoulder, “I really wouldn’t care where we were or what we did as long as we were together.”

And just like that all of his anxiety about whether or not he’s doing Valentine’s day right is gone, because he realises that he feels just the same way.

--

Manner Dear God, why is he here? It’s bloody Sunday, it’s her bloody day off, and she’d assumed that it was his day off as well. So why in the name of fuck is Tanner at the warehouse, going out of his way to ruin her weekend? Morgan had assumed that he’d have more important things to do. Like go and pick up some desperate man or woman from a bar somewhere and shag their brains out. Because isn’t that what guys like him do with their free time when they’re single?

But no. Here he is. Standing in the doorway now, leaning against the frame and grinning at her as though it’s supposed to mean something.

“You got anywhere to be right now?” he asks before she can tell him to go away, and she raises an eyebrow at him before giving a slight shake of her head. “Come with me.”

She stares at the hand he’s holding out to her, then shifts her gaze up to meet his and her face twists into a glare. “No.”

“You know you want to.”

“I really don’t.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

Oh, fuck him. Fuck that sexy smirk and that sexy tone of voice that he only seems to use on her, it gets her every time. She huffs, hoping that she still looks as unimpressed as she did when he’d first shown up, and gets to her feet, ignoring his hand.

“Where are we going?” she asks despite herself.

“Out.”

“Out where?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

He grins over at her, “I thought as much.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than annoy me?” she voices her thoughts, trying not to let the way he looks back over at her and lets his eyes crawl slowly over her body before he answers get to her. Trying, and failing.

“Something better than you? Unlikely.”

“What makes you think I’m gonna let you do me?”

“A hunch,” he grins again before they both fall quiet, Morgan growing more and more curious the further into the woods behind the warehouse he leads her.

Finally he stops and turns to face her, and she just looks back at him with a frown of confusion on her face. There’s… nothing here. Absolutely nothing, and they’re so deep into the woods that she can barely even hear the birds chirping anymore.

“Hear that?” he asks after a moment, and she listens carefully for a moment for what he’s talking about but comes up with nothing.

“No?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t get it,” she really doesn’t get it. What the hell is he doing?

“I know the noise gets to be too much for you sometimes. So if you ever just need some silence for a while…” he trails off and spreads his arms, looking around the tiny clearing that he’s led her too.

She could hug him. Literally hug him. But she’s not going to.

“You dragged me all the way out here to show me where I can find some silence?” she says instead, and a small smile crosses his face as he nods. He’s not buying her hardass act for even a second. He turns and starts to head back in the direction they’d come in, apparently not expecting her to join him.

“Thanks,” she mutters before he can get too far away, and he turns to face her, walking backwards for a moment with the same tiny but satisfied smile on his face.

“Happy Valentine’s, sunshine,” is the only answer he gives before turning back around and leaving her to her peace and quiet.

She hadn’t even remembered that today was the fourteenth.

--

tags (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @detectivewiseman @adamdumorpain @agentnolastname @utterlyinevitable @masonscig

[cavalierious-whim]

Careful Closeness (FE3H)

Sylvix | Canon-Compliant | War Phase | Teen | Complete

It's been beaten into him that men aren't supposed to feel things. ----

A/N:  CW for brief mentions of Sylvain being tossed into a well, and a mild description of what could be viewed as a panic attack. Read here on AO3 for better quality!

----

When Sylvain hits the ice-cold water, it’s like smacking against a stone wall. Pain blooms through his bones and he winces which is a mistake because he breathes in a mouthful of water that he can’t properly cough back out.

Sylvain’s a good swimmer but that means nothing when you’ve fallen into a black hellmouth, sleek walls of slick stone rising a perch above with no end in sight minus the soft glow of the night stars above. Sylvain can just barely see them through the misted haze of his kicking and screaming to keep afloat.

He can hear Miklan’s laughter as he scrambles to grab at the side, but his fingers only slide through algae and mold, and his head dips under the water. He manages to pull back up and grab a fresh breath of air, but he’s already so tired and he’s barely begun.

Sylvain is defiant for as long as possible, keeping his head up and sucking in deep breaths when he can, but sometimes it’s more water than air and it doesn’t help. His legs turn to lead, he can’t move his arms and he starts to sink.

And sink.

And sink.

His lungs burn, the bitter cold of the well water settling deep into his skin. But it’s quiet. Sylvain likes the quiet.

So, he stops fighting.

#

Sylvain jerks awake, panic seizing him with a vice grip, unrelenting as it hangs on. Sylvain’s panicking, he can’t breathe, it feels like he’s suffocating, head deep underwater again with no way up, up, up.

Someone shakes him violently, fingers tight around his shoulders. Sylvain’s trying to find them, trying to swim back to them, but his head’s a mess and his brain and foggy, and he’s not sure that he knows how to breathe anymore.

“It’s a dream,” says Felix. “Sylvain, that’s all it is, it’s a dream.”

Sylvain snaps too, Felix’s voice like an anchor in the deep sea. He finds his footing, his vision clears and his eyes focus on Felix's face in the dark of the tent. Sylvain’s tent. Why is Felix there?

“Felix,” says Sylvain, his voice a whisper. Felix doesn’t let go, but his grip loosens slightly, thumb rubbing circles against the soft linen of Sylvain’s shirt. Sylvain swallows, then says, “What are you doing in here?”

“You were screaming,” says Felix. “Woke up damn near half the camp.”

“A dream,” says Sylvain, repeating Felix’s earlier words.

Felix regards him for a long moment and then asks, “About what?”

“It doesn’t matter,” says Sylvain. And it doesn’t, it hasn’t mattered for a long time. Miklan’s been dead for years, the well was over a decade ago and Sylvain’s here in the now and present. He can’t change the past, nor can he rid himself of the demons that still chase him.

Felix scowls at that, lips tugged into a serious frown. Sylvain hates that look, not because it’s mean or callous, but because Felix looks like he’s about to say something that he never will. So, Sylvain sighs, rubbing tiredly at his face.

“Miklan,” says Sylvain weakly. “The well.”

Felix’s face softens at that. Felix had been the one to find him all those years ago. Sylvain would’ve died otherwise, but he didn’t, he’d survived. That was also the night the Felix learned exactly what kind of monster that Miklan was and that Sylvain’s bruises had never been from falling down the stairs or clumsiness.

He and Felix have never once talked about it since and even now, Felix seems to hesitate.

“It’s okay,” says Sylvain. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not,” says Felix in a biting tone. “How long has this been going on?”

Sylvain knows that there isn’t a point in lying, not with Felix leaning over him and watching him closely. Felix knows all of his tells, even if they don’t talk frankly. So, Sylvain says, “Always.”

Felix doesn’t like that answer based on the crinkle that forms at the corner of his mouth. Sylvain expects Felix to not push at it, but he’s surprised when Felix says, “Idiot. You should have told me.”

“It’s not your concern,” says Sylvain.

“The moment we pulled you from that damn well, you became my concern.”

Sylvain’s mouth snaps shut at his declaration. Well then. Felix pulls back, sitting awkwardly at the edge of the cot. Then he moves to stand and leave. Sylvain reaches out, grabbing his wrist.

“Stay?” asks Sylvain.

It’s Gautier cold outside and Sylvain doesn’t need to peek out to know that heavy snowdrift blankets the land around them. Felix stiffens under the touch, but not because he’s annoyed, it’s because it’s like coal has been lit low in his belly, red-hot and simmering slowly. Sylvain can tell. He knows how it feels.

This has always been a tangible thing between the two of them, but they don’t talk about it, they don’t think about it, they sweep it away under the rug because they have a war to win and the world might end if they don’t.

And then what would be the point?

But it could be the point for just this one night.

“Stay,” repeats Sylvain, tugging at Felix’s arm just slightly.

Felix follows, leaning back over Sylvain and his cot. His hair is down and hangs like a curtain around their faces. He looks strangely vulnerable. Sylvain does too.

“Alright,” says Felix. He pulls from Sylvain once more, but only to slip underneath the thin covers. The cot’s not big enough for the both of them, really, but they make it work, Sylvain’s back pressed into Felix’s chest. Felix is smaller and it’s easier for him to wrap around Sylvain than the other way, nose tucked into the back of his neck.

It doesn’t feel like Felix is putting up with him, not with the way that his arm snakes around Sylvain’s waist tightly, hugging him close.

“You can talk to me,” says Felix. “You can always be honest with me.”

“Yeah,” says Sylvain quietly, but the word hangs heavy in the tent. They lay there silently for a few moments, Sylvain staring at the at the rough canvas that’s hung up. Suddenly, it’s hot in there, it’s boiling, Felix pressed against his back, breath puffing against Sylvain’s neck and a million things that can be said hanging between them.

“I love you,” says Sylvain, unable to stop himself.

To his credit, Felix doesn’t run away, he presses closer, pulling Sylvain tighter against him. “I know,” he says against his neck before pressing a soft kiss there. Quick. Simple. Perfectly Felix in his no-nonsense kind of way.

Sylvain wants to cry like he’s never been able to because it’s been beaten into him that men aren’t supposed to feel things. He doesn’t sob outright, but his body shakes like he’s going to, and Felix is already trying to soothe him, whispering soft words in the quiet warmth of the tent.

Felix falls asleep first, his rising and falling chest beating a steady rhythm that helps ground Sylvain. He’s warm and soft, wrapped around him, a comforting presence that Sylvain hadn’t been aware that he’d needed.

And now it’s kind of worse because Sylvain’s not sure how he’ll stop drowning if Felix isn’t there to hold him up in the stormy, icy waters of his shitty, internalized self-hatred.

In the morning Felix is still there though, breathing softly against Sylvain, holding tight like he has no intention of letting go. And this time Sylvain actually cries, soft and silent tears, but happy ones not sad because he feels a small sense of worth.

When Felix wakes up a little bit later, he lifts up on an elbow as Sylvain shifts onto his back, trying to rub away the redness from his swollen eyes. Felix just watches him, hand splayed across Sylvain’s chest. Soothing. Comforting. Unquestioning.

“I love you too,” says Felix when the moment slows down, neither of them ready to pack up and be on the move again.

On a normal day, Sylvain would think him joking in gruffness, about to smack him across the shoulder as he calls him dumb. But this isn’t a normal day and Felix doesn’t do that.

So, Sylvain tugs him down for a kiss.

[peterthepark]

Cold as Ice

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Billy just doesn’t understand why you’re so cold to him. He becomes desperate to warm you up. But, the killer heat of Hawkins combined with a stupid school project gives him the chance to know what’s truly underneath all that ice.

Warnings: cursing, smut, sExUal tenSion, some angst, some fluff, LOTS OF SIN

A/N: Definitely my filthiest fic at the moment, enjoy!

“You’re my partner.”

You look up from the register, hands on your hips as you stare at Billy Hargrove with a blank, unamused expression. There are a few people behind him, arms crossed against their chests - Tommy, Carol, and some other bimbo.

Funnily, you realize that they all resemble a group of poodles.

Cute.

Billy raises his eyebrows at you, smacking his gum as he impatiently awaits for a response. You glance at the folder that he slaps down onto the counter, knowing exactly what it contains.

“Hm, didn’t think you guys were recruiting for the next douchebag of Hawkins High. Are these the applications?” You finally pick up the folder, skimming through the thick pages of paper with a toothy smirk. “To be honest, I consider myself more of a bitch than a douchebag. Isn’t that right, Harrington?”

You chuckle devilishly as you hand Steve a couple dollars, who snickers at the interaction. Billy seems confused, but by the way he clenches his jaw and barely blinks, you can tell you’ve also hit a spot.

“Looks like I’ve won the bet, Y/N. Fuck, yeah! Robin! I told you I would win!” Steve runs into the back room of Scoops Ahoy, waving the dollar bills at his friend.

You turn back to Billy, re-adjusting the hat on your head. “Now, can I get you something, pool boy?” You lean over, hands splayed onto the cool marble of the counter.

“Did you not pick up on what I just said? I’m asking you to be my partner for the project. No, I’m picking you to be my partner.” Billy tries to keep a steady voice, but you easily catch the deep breath he takes between his words. His ‘friends’ are whispering behind him, exchanging dirty looks.

“Well, I’m actually not allowed to have personal conversations with customers right now,” Billy scoffs, tugging his lip between his teeth. “And so, if you aren’t ordering ice cream, then be my guest, and leave. I’ve got a few angry customers to deal with if you can’t tell.” He follows your pointed gaze, and surely enough, the line behind him is fairly long - filled with crying kids and irritated parents. “Come back later? Or never at all?”

Billy groans, pacing in short steps. He knows you’ll come around. They always come around.

You truly are a bitch.

Yet, somehow, Billy waits till the end of your shift to speak with you - hopefully in a more private spot and in a less aggressive manner.

You roll your eyes when you see him, sitting by the table nearest to the register. He seems to be alone, yet it annoys you even more.

“I don’t wanna be your partner, Hargrove. Is that not clear?” Your eyes follow him as he stands up. He’s much taller than you, so you can only send him an intimidating glare in hopes of scaring him away. “Pick someone else. And let me give you a hint - it’s not me.”

Billy inhales deeply, before a small smile forms on his face. He grabs your arm before you can walk away, hoping that he can win you over with his charm. But he knows he has to put away his pride to do so.

“Sweetheart, I really need help with this project. You’re the smartest girl in our class, and if you can’t tell, I hang around a bunch of dumbasses.”

Oh, so this is why he was alone. So he could talk crap about his shitty friends.

Billy continues, smile never wavering. He still has his hand wrapped around your arm, holding you in place as he speaks by your ear. “And anyways, it’s already set in stone. I asked Mrs. Johnson if I could pair up with you. She thought it was a great idea. Guess we’re in this together now, huh?”

He harshly pushes the folder of papers into your chest, letting go of your arm.

“What? You can’t do that!”

But he certainly did do that. Because when you storm into Mrs. Johnson’s classroom on one Monday morning, she’s rambling over how excited she is to have you and Billy working together.

“But Mrs. Johnson, I never agreed to this. How is this fair?” You whine, waving the folder around with wide eyes.

“Miss Y/N, you’ll be doing Billy a huge favor by helping him. He isn’t failing, but he is struggling. He could most definitely use your help.”

Despite all the complaining, Mrs. Johnson doesn’t allow you to pick anyone else. To her convenience, you and Billy are the only ones who haven’t had a designated partner - and now, you really don’t have a choice.

-

The next week, Billy is back in Scoops Ahoy. He can see your snarl from the other side of the mall. He’s got you trapped in cage, and he knows you’re having a hard time trying to adapt to it.

“I knew that he’d pick you.” Steve says through a mouthful of banana, hitting you in the face with its peel. “I mean, you’re the only girl - besides Robin - who hasn’t given into him. He’s probably just trying to cross off your name on his list.”

“He has a list?” You gag dramatically, protesting as Robin pushes you jokingly.

“Dude, Y/N, he’s literally coming over here.” She points at Billy, who actually is coming over.

“I don’t care. Change spots with me. Steve! Robin!” You shout, pulling at the ends of your hair as they run into the back room, locking the door behind them. “Screw you both!”

You turn around, meeting eyes with the damned Billy Hargrove. You fake a smile. If this was a cartoon, steam would certainly be coming out from your ears.

“Bad day?” Billy pouts mockingly at you. His hands rest inside the pockets of his jeans, eyes looking over your angry state. “Should I come back or....”

“Actually, no. But you know what?” You slide yourself over the counter, brushing away at the lint that has accumulated on your blue shorts. “I’m not doing this stupid project alone. You’re staying here till my shift is over. And when it is, you’re gonna drive your ass to my house, where the both of us can work on it. Together. Happy now, douchebag?”

Your breath is almost minty, and somehow feels cool against Billy’s skin. He steps back with a cocky grin, raising his hands as if he were surrending to you.

But he wasn’t surrendering.

“You just gave Team Hargrove one point. But Team Y/L/N? Zero.” Billy snaps with a flash of his pearly whites. He crouches down to your height, hands resting on his thighs. He knows that he is pissing you off. “I’ll see you when you’re done.” Then, you cross your arms at him, nose pointing up as he stands to full height. His eyes flicker down to your lips. “And honestly? I think I’m more of a dick than a douchebag.”

You want to slap the stupid grin of his face. But you don’t. You don’t know the real reason behind it, but you try to convince yourself as to why.

Because it’s against company policy?

Steve and Robin poke their heads out of the other room, coming out when Billy cockily walks away from you. You’re still standing there, eyes narrowed and face drawn into a look of displeasure.

“Should we not bother her?” Steve whispers, elbowing Robin. “I kinda don’t wanna get yelled at right now.”

“No, no, Steve. She’s hotter when she’s angry. Trust me.”

“Guys!” You scoff at them. She laughs at the sudden smile on your face, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I mean, she’s not wrong, Y/N.” Steve shrugs before taking your place at the register. “You’re pretty hot, I guess.”

“Oh, stop it, Harrington. I’m out of your league.” You wink at him, hopping back over the counter.

You let out an exasperated breath when Robin tells you to sort out the shipments in the back. You push the back door open, groaning audibly when you see the tall stack of cardboard boxes. There’s a clipboard on the table in the middle of the room, and you read over it lazily before you begin to sort through the deliveries.

No one really knows why you despise Billy. Not Steve, not Robin, not anyone. It seems as if you had woke up, saw him, and decided that he was someone you disliked.

That was partly true.

But in detail, you did dislike - or hate, whichever was fitting based on your mood - Billy for a few things.

You never understood his sudden popularity, or the sex appeal he carried along with him. You never understood the hair, the smoking, the people he hung around, or the recklessness and the partying.

You just didn’t get it. You didn’t get why people would waste their time around him, when clearly, he wasn’t grateful for any of it.

Maybe your hatred of him spiraled from insecurity.

He had everything. He was popular and easy on the eyes. He was charming and fun. You’d never admit it out loud, but he truly seemed like a good guy, underneath that whole douchebag act of his.

You were nothing alike. Or so you thought.

-

“Honey! There’s someone here for you!” Your mother calls out from the bottom of the stairs, a slight smirk on her face when she realizes how handsome your guest is. You come barreling down the stairs, feet heavy and frowning deeply when you see who’s sitting on the sofa.

“Billy.”

“Y/N!” He comes to meet you, pulling you into an embrace. Your reaction is one of utter shock, because suddenly, all you can smell is expensive cologne and the faint scent of cigarettes. “Your mother was just asking me if we wanted to join her for lunch.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you, but we have to work on a project, Mom.” You send Billy a look, clearing your throat when you see his lips twitch upwards. “We’ll be upstairs.”

Your mom disappears into the living room, giving you both a second glance and a knowing look as you jog up the stairs.

“How do you know where I live?”

“That little girl from the mall? I think she’s Sinclair’s sister. Bought her some ice cream when I saw it fall, she just returned the favor.”

Erica. Damn it.

“Okay, well, I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.” You complain, running your hands through your hair, damp from a shower. Billy follows you into your bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He takes in the sight, something he wouldn’t expect from someone like you. There are various posters plastered onto your soft pink walls - band posters, movie posters, and he huffs at the one of a shirtless man. There’s a record player on top of your bookcase, where you stand, occupied as you flip through your vinyls. “What’s your cup of tea? Queen? The Beatles? Metallica? Foreigner?”

“I really don’t care.” He scoffs, licking his lips as he takes a seat on your bed.

Foreigner it is, then.

“And I really don’t want you on my bed. Get off, Hargrove.” You throw a paper ball at him, hiding the smile on your face when he doesn’t dodge it in time. “Thought you played basketball. What happened to those reflexes?”

With a dramatic eye roll, Billy tosses the ball into the trash, sliding off of the bed and onto the floor instead. You grab the project folder from your study table, sitting down across from him. You’re reading through the directions when Billy starts to light a cigarette.

And you gasp - really loud. “Billy! No! None of that in here.” You take the cigarette from his lips, his coughs fading in the background as you throw it out your window. “Are you crazy?”

“I just wanted a smoke!”

“Yeah?! Then not in here!” You shake your head at him, handing him a sheet of paper as you calm down. “Your turn to read, asshole.”

Your head begins to become fuzzy as Billy’s fingers brush against yours when he grabs the paper.

He reads, voice soft and surprisingly enthusiastic - if he didn’t act like such a dumbass, you’d think he was somewhat intelligent.

(However, you know he is intelligent - somewhere in that douchebag brain of his - though, that’s one of the things you could never admit to anyone).

The room is suddenly blazing hot, uncomfortably warm despite the numerous open windows. The air conditioning isn’t enough, and you’re silently cursing as you feel sweat build up among your skin. You’re fanning yourself, swallowing as you notice the bead of sweat that rolls down the side of Billy’s forehead.

“God damn, it’s hot.” Billy curses, unable to continue reading with how tight his chest feels. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping he could get some sort of air.

“Our air conditioning sucks.” You push your hair back, “Summer’s coming.”

Billy nods in agreement, picking up from where he had left off.

Maybe it’s just the heat, but suddenly, you start to space out.

Your eyes focus on the rise and fall of Billy’s tan chest, how his skin glows with sweat, and how his muscles flex under that shirt of his.

Oh, wow.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” You snap out of your trance. “Hope you haven’t passed out.” He sets the paper down, leaning back against your bed frame.

“Huh? Sorry, I - I was distracted.”

Don’t let your guard down.

“I was asking which part you wanted to do.”

“Uh, whichever one is the hardest. I can take it.”

And Billy stops breathing. Maybe because there’s some sort of - sexual - euphemism in that sentence, but also because he’s noticing how flushed you look: cheeks red, skin glistening, breaths heavy. Your hair sticks to your arms, resting on the tops of your knees. But then, he sees this look in your eyes.

It’s not the normal glare he gets. But your eyes are softer, less intense, more - was that longing?

You’re just staring at him, lips slightly parted as your eyes quickly drop down to the floor.

“Unless, um, you want the harder part then you can have it, I guess.” You pipe up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re avoiding his gaze, and Billy isn’t sure that he recognizes this Y/N.

Did he win you over yet? That easily?

“Here, you can look over it with me again.” Billy scoots beside you, his denim-clad thigh pressed up against your bare one. His breaths are even, blowing over your hands as you hold up the paper. “I was thinking I could do the research on the biographical context and symbolism, and...” He glances over to you, eyes trailing over the expanse of your neck. Your jaw is tightly clenched, but you don’t meet his stare. “... and then, maybe you could do the overall analysis. Or we could do it differently, if this way doesn’t meet your standards, princess.” His voice is low, a sultry tone laced subtly in his words. He peeks his tongue out to lick his lips, and you look over at that exact moment.

Aw, shit. You wouldn’t give up that easily, would you?

He’s not the only one that can play this game.

“No, I like your idea. We can do that.” You turn to him, hair slightly hitting him in the face. You pucker your bottom lip slightly, rolling it between your teeth as you pass him the paper back.

“Is it getting hot in here?”

Not this line.

“Nope, just you.” You let out a sharp exhale, reading over more of the project.

“Whew. I gotta take off my shirt.”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull, causing you to drop your pencil. But it’s too late once Billy is pulling his shirt over his head. “Hey!”

Though, he wears a tank top underneath.

And honestly, you’re kind of disappointed.

Wait, what?

He hurls the shirt towards your bed, running his hands through his messy curls. His arms look even bigger, and you can see the faint outline of his abs through the thin, white material. You catch the tattoo on his upper bicep, and you have to put a hand to your mouth from saying anything - now this was ruining you.

Don’t give in.

“Like what you see, Y/L/N?” He flexes his arms in a subtle manner, biting down harshly on his lip. He grunts as he leans over to pick up your pencil, handing it to you. “Didn’t mean to make you drop this.”

Yeah. Apology accepted. Jerk.

“If this is your way of seducing me, it isn’t working.” You cross your ankles over each other, shaking your head at Billy.

He laughs, running his hand through his hair. “And why would I want to seduce you, Y/N?”

The question does sting, but it doesn’t change the fact that his face is literally inches away from yours.

You aren’t done playing the game.

“Oh, I don’t know, Billy. Maybe because I’m the only girl on that - that list of yours that you haven’t yet crossed out? Or is it because you’ve fucked all the pretty girls at school and you’ve finally come to the realization that you’d rather fuck someone with a bit of brains?”

Billy hums with a slow, antagonistic nod, tongue poking out from the corner of his lips. He abruptly stands up, turning up the volume on your record player. He’s dancing. But the bitter look on his face is all you can focus on. You stand up as well, pouting as you lower the volume of the music. It’s a back and forth between you, Billy, and the music.

“The problem with pretty girls, Y/N...” He starts between breaths, still dancing as you stand ahead of him - not happy. “... is that they can’t tell when a guy is no longer interested in them. They got the looks, but no brain.” He chuckles, parting his lips as he taps the side of his head. “And the girls that do have brains? They also got a problem. They’re smart, sure, but they just don’t know when to quit being a bitch.”

That’s when he turns up the music to full volume, hooting in your face as he dances even more.

This was Billy Hargrove at his finest.

“We’re never gonna get this project done if you keep thinking with your dick instead of your head, asshole.” You almost growl. You’re fuming now.

He really knows how to piss a girl off, huh?

“You ever had a boyfriend, Y/N?”

No. Never.

“Yeah, I have. Why?” You gulp, pushing past Billy. You sit down on your bed, continuing on writing your analysis for the project.

“What was his name?”

“Uh - It was - It’s Steve.”

What are you doing?

“You dated Harrington? King Steve?” He slowly stops dancing, panting loudly as he looks down at you.

“Dating him, actually.”

Oh, God.

“Huh. You ever had sex with him?”

“Hargrove, this is getting a little personal.” You chuckle nervously.

“Is that a... no?” He crouches down in front of you, eyes blinking at you. He’s catching on. Surely, you weren’t this good of a liar. “I’ll take that as a no. Must suck, yeah? Harrington doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you. Poor Y/N. You just want a little lovin’ from King Steve...”

His thumb hooks itself under your chin.

And his blue eyes are almost hypnotizing.

“Are you really dating Steve Harrington? ‘Cause you seem a lot out of his league. You’re not even in the ballpark, baby.”

His big hand cups your jaw, fingers rubbing against your skin. Somehow, his hands are freezing - despite the hundred degree weather.

“I have a... boyfriend.”

Billy knows you’re lying now.

“Why are you so cold to me, Y/N?” His eyes are fixed on your lips, flickering up to you when you speak.

“I don’t know. Why are you such a douchebag?”

“Sure. I’m a dick, but you - you’re somethin’ else. You are mean. Steve seems a little soft for someone as headstrong as you.” He shrugs animatedly, “Maybe you’re looking for a - a... thrill.”

“What do you want from me?” You scoff at him.

“I think I know why you hate me.” You hold your breath as he continues, “We’re more alike than you think we are.”

“Yeah? I’d like to hear it, then.”

Deathmatch.

“We both crave something more. Most people go after someone with a little... heat to their name, but us? We thrive in the cold.”

“You’re wrong.” You shake your head at him.

“Then why am I still touching you?” He stands, hands leaving your jaw.

No, come back.

“Billy, this - this isn’t-“

“Surely, your boyfriend wouldn’t like the way I was touching you, wouldn’t he? What’s Steve gonna do if he finds out? Fight me?”

“Steve’s not my boyfriend! Fine! You win!” You explode, rising to your feet.

And it all comes rushing back to you.

You both really are alike.

“You see it now, don’t you? All this competing, this - this fighting, we clash because we’re the same. And it scares you. Because who would’ve thought you had something in common with the douchebag from school, huh?”

He takes a step closer to you. And you do the same to him.

“Smart girls need attention, too.” He says softly, leaning in to whisper at your ear. “But you... you’ve been looking for someone who’s as cold as you. And I respect that, Y/N.”

You make the mistake of locking eyes with him when he pulls back.

“I’m way out of Steve’s league.”

You look down at his plump lips, glancing at how his neck bobs when he pushes your hair behind your shoulder.

There’s an unfamiliar feeling that sparks in your chest when Billy’s fingers trail past your collarbone.

“Can I kiss you now? Because all this tension might give me high blood pressure.” He smirks at you.

You don’t reply.

But you do lean forward, on the tips of your toes, mashing your lips against Billy’s. Your hands are cool against his shimmering skin.

The kiss isn’t sweet, but fueled with fire and pent-up anger. Billy is fast enough to show you that he really wants you, but at the same time, he’s slow, wanting to prove to you that you aren’t just another name on his so-called ‘list.’

You don’t give a shit about winning anymore.

Stubble tickles your cheeks as Billy moves to kiss your neck.

“This doesn’t... this doesn’t change the fact that I still hate you...” You breathe raggedly, screwing your eyes shut at how his mouth feels on your neck.

He tugs at the straps of your tank top, pulling it over your head as he hoists you up into his arms. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you can feel the tightness form in his jeans.

“God, you’ve been such a bitch to me for the past week.” He moans into your skin, pressing you up against your bedroom door as he uses one hand to hold you, and the other to unclasp your bra. You let out a choked moan, only for Billy to place his hand over your mouth. “Don’t forget that your mama is downstairs. What would she think if she saw me doing this to her daughter?”

You bite at his hand, smiling as he groans pleasurably at the sensation.

He’s so rough, but you’re enjoying it.

Billy swivels on the heels of his shoes, laying you down onto your bed as he kisses down your torso. His saliva sticks to your skin, and he chuckles when he watches you arch your back into him. Your hand reaches for his, and he doesn’t pull away - despite how intimate the action is for him.

Billy Hargrove doesn’t hold hands with flings.

That’s how he really knows you aren’t one of them.

“B-Billy...” You gasp as his lips pass over your breasts, his hands cupping and kneading them softly.

He reaches up to kiss you again, whispering, “This isn’t your first time, right?”

You shake your head, “No, no.”

“Okay.” He nods with a grin, taking off his top. “But no one is ever gonna make you feel this good.”

He groans as you crawl to the edge of the bed, playing with him through his jeans. You glance up at him innocently, his fingers card through your hair. You leave short kisses on his abs, slowly making your way up to his neck. You suck and lick at it, surely leaving a prominent mark there. He pulls out his belt, flinging it onto the floor as you unbutton his jeans for him.

He licks his lips, pushing you back down onto the bed. You scoot over, making room for him as he takes off your shorts. You chuckle when he moans at the sight of lace.

“Didn’t know you were wearing those.” He says, obviously surprised as he wraps his fingers around the waistband, letting it snap against your skin. You gasp, letting his hands wander over your back.

“Just be glad I’m letting you see them.”

He flips you over so that you’re on your knees, ass in his face as he pulls the lace panties past your ankles.

You bite back a loud moan. His face and his mouth is down there and you swear you’ve entered heaven itself.

Hell was too hot for the both of you, anyways.

He hums against you, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge as he toys with you in places you didn’t even know existed. He pulls away, causing you to whimper.

But as you look back at him, the sight is enough to make you cum. His boxers are nowhere to be seen, and instead, he’s touching himself, grinning as he sees the dumbfounded expression on your face.

“You’re okay with this?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. You’re shaking your head. “I need to hear it out loud.” He kisses your lower back, hands caressing your ass.

“Yes. Please.”

“Condom?”

You wink, rubbing yourself against him. “On the pill.”

Billy lets out a moan, chuckling. “Mm, that’s my girl.”

You hold back a breath as he pushes himself into you. He’s huge, and it stings with how much he’s stretching you out. You let out a sob of pleasure, hand coming to touch Billy’s upper thigh.

“Slow?” He asks, voice gruff as he bottoms out. You’re sure that he’s as deep as possible, but part of you longs for him to go even deeper.

“No, fast.”

Billy pulls out, only to slam back in. His movements are quick, hips thrusting at a rapid pace. You’re moaning, falling into the mattress with how good he feels inside you.

“Holy fuck!” He grunts as he leans over you, hand coming to rest by your face. He outstretches his fingers, and you take his hand into yours. “Y/N...”

“We have to - to be quiet...” You moan once more, throwing your head back as his arm wraps around your stomach, pulling you closer to him.

He pounds into you, grunting as silently as possible. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He cries out, taking a fistful of your hair. You yelp out of surprise when he gently pulls you back.

You liked that.

“D-do that again.” You stutter, mumbling incoherent words when he repeats the action.

The record player still plays music.

And you’re so grateful that it’s loud enough to silence the filthy sounds between you and Billy.

Thank God for that.

But this... this was a whole new level of sinful.

Billy brings a hand to touch your throat. And you nod in approval, shutting your eyes when you feel the pads of his fingers tighten around your airway. He’s still soft and cautious, but the way he was fucking you was enough to send you into overdrive.

Your hand comes up from the bed, jaw hanging open in utter bliss as you flex your fingers. “I’m gonna cum. Billy, holy, I-“

“C’mon, baby.” Thrust. “I’m right there...” Thrust. “...With you.”

You’re cumming.

Your legs are shaking and you feel the wave of heat fall over your body like a spell. Billy follows shortly, groaning sinfully as he buried himself inside you. He pulls out, pumping himself as he lets himself go onto your body. You feel the warm drops of his cum drizzle across your back and over your ass, trickling down your thighs and between your legs before you fall onto the bed.

“Oh, my god.” You sigh, curling up. Billy falls beside you, eyes studying your features for any sign of pain or sadness.

“Was that okay?”

“I just had sex with Billy Hargrove. Oh, my-“ Your hand comes up to massage your temples.

He chuckles.

“And I just had sex with you, so I guess we’re pretty even.” He states, kissing your neck one last time.

He’ll give it to you.

You both win.

But who said that the game would be over?

-

“Here’s the project, Mrs. Johnson.” You smile respectfully, exchanging glances with Billy as you hand her the folder. Her eyes bounce from you both, hands sorting through the papers of the project.

“This looks good.” She nods, eyebrows raised when she finds the part that Billy had worked on. “Wow, Y/N must’ve been a great help to you, Billy.”

“Yeah. She helped me a lot.”

Billy links his pinky with yours under the table, where your thigh rests against his. His fingers come to toy with the hem of your skirt, and his touch: cold.

“Well, I might say that this project deserves an A. It looks very well-planned and thought out.” She takes off her reading glasses, placing them carefully on her desk as she re-organizes your papers. “How would you feel about an extra credit project, Billy? Just to boost your grade a little more before the year ends?”

You and Billy share a knowing grin.

It’s wicked.

It’s spiteful.

It’s cold as ice.

But there’s an inextinguishable heat that lingers between the two of you.

“As long as Miss Y/N can be of help to me.” He flashes a charming smile, hands coming up to rest on the wooden desk.

“Of course, Mr. Hargrove.”

You shut the door of the classroom behind you, following Billy into the bustling hallway towards the cafeteria.

He turns to you and winks as he rounds the corner, denim jacket slung over his shoulder.

“See you later, partner.”

“Later, douchebag.”

Oh, how you loved the cold.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XX

It'd been several weeks since all hell broke loose in Altissia. Ignis was blinded due to using the Ring of the Lucii, Lady Lunafreya was dead, and (Y/n) was missing. Now the royal retinue was aboard a train and heading towards Cartanica. The savannah-like landscape was dotted with the occasional tree. Prompto and Ignis are sitting together in one seat while Noctis sits alone across the aisle from them, hanging his head.

Prompto hasn't lifted his head from his bracelet. His eyes had been glued to the accessory ever since he was unable to find (Y/n). It was still intact, but that only meant she was alive. He feared the empire captured her and was possibly torturing her. The thought caused anger and sorrow to bubble inside his veins.

Ignis was aware of how distraught and distant Prompto's become due to (Y/n)'s disappearance. He tried to provide comforting words whenever possible, but they seemed to be hollow and never reached the marksman. Both Prompto and Noctis were wallowing in their own pity, but both had reasons to do so.

After a long while, Prompto found the courage to speak up. "So...we're gonna roll through Tenebrae."

Ignis was surprised to hear him speak, but understood why he chose to remain silent most of the time. It was to keep his own feelings from spilling out in the form of tears. "Not before visiting the royal tomb in Cartanica," the strategist said.

Prompto glanced over, wincing when seeing the extent of his wounds. "You're sure you're up to that?"

"The wounds have mended. Eyesight's a matter of time," he lied, hiding the truth from his companion.

Gladio, who'd been staring at the sulking prince for a while, stood up and walked over to him. His voice was a low growl as he spoke. "The hell is wrong with you?"

Noctis slowly raises his head once hearing the anger-laced tone of his shield. "What?"

"We're not stopping in Tenebrae. You need to grow up and get over it," he growled, glaring at the prince.

The raven-haired boy stands and confronts his friend. "I am over it. I'm here, aren't I?!" He snapped back.

That's when Gladio snapped. He grabs Noctis by his jacket and pulls him close. "Maybe when you're not too busy moping, you can look around and give a shit about someone worse off than you."

"Let go of me," Noctis hissed, eyes narrowing.

Gladio ignored the command, continuing to egg him on. "How's that ring fit ya? You'd rather carry it around than wear it? She gave her life so you could do your duty, not so you could sit around feeling sorry for yourself."

"You don't think I know that?!" Noctis shouted, his voice shaking with anger.

"You don't! Ignis took one for you too, and for what?! Hell, even (Y/n) took one for the team to protect your ass. And now she's missing. Guess you don't give a damn about how that's affected your best friend!"

Prompto's eyes widen at Gladio's accusation. He hung his head, feeling the familiar sting of tears in the corners of his eyes. Ignis, who'd been listening, couldn't stand to listen to their bickering any longer. "Enough, Gladio!"

The tactician's shouting went unheard by the shield. Gladio wasn't finished and gripped Noctis' collar tighter. "You think you're a king, but you're a coward."

"Shut up!" Noctis shoves Gladio and grabs him by his jacket as well.

Prompto lifted his head, fighting against the tears that threatened to fall as he stands and addresses Gladio. "Don't do this—!"

Gladio puts his hand on Prompto's face and shoves him back. Noctis was clearly at a breaking point. "I get it, alright?! I get it!" He shoves the brute away from him.

Gladio was forced to release him due to being shoved. "Then get a grip! Pull your head outta your ass already!"

Noctis turns and walks away. Prompto calls after him. "Noct!"

"Leave him," Gladio growled before turning and walking away in the other direction.

Prompto glanced between the two, wondering what to do. Steeling himself, he wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes and decided to follow Noctis. He found his best friend sitting in the connected train car. Slowly approaching, he notices Noctis was staring down at the Ring of the Lucii in his hand. Taking a closer look, he saw how the boy's hand was shaking before he closes his fist tight around the ring. Making his presence known, Prompto sat beside him. "Hey, buddy."

Noctis lifted his head and saw he was no longer alone. "Hey, Prompto..."

"I would ask how you're holding up, but that'd be a stupid question," Prompto chuckled weakly, twirling his gemstone bracelet around his wrist.

Noctis realized his best friend was fiddling with the bracelet. "You haven't really spoken since...y'know..."

"Neither have you."

"True..." Noctis glanced out the window for a split second before looking back at the bracelet on Prompto's wrist. "Hey, I'm sorry about (Y/n). What happened, exactly?"

"Well, um..." Prompto found it difficult to talk about her, but he willed himself to. "Remember that daemon the empire made? Well, we ran into it on our way to the altar. She volunteered to stay behind and keep it busy. I'm...I'm not sure what happened after we left her behind..." He hung his head, a few tears trailing down his cheeks. His body shook as he gripped the bracelet tightly.

"She's alive though, right?" Noctis asked.

He nodded his head. "Yeah. I just wish I knew where she was. She could be hurt, o-or the empire might've captured her. Not knowing is the scariest part."

"I'm sure she's okay, Prompto."

"I hope you're right, Noct..."

As the train rolled into Cartanica Station, the two boys stood up. They exited the train and Prompto immediately left the prince's side. Noctis looked around the station and found Ignis sitting on a bench with his cane leaning against it. He wasn't sure where Gladio was and didn't particularly care at the moment. He was still angry from what he said on the train.

Noctis attempted to clear his head, by his thoughts were too rampant. With a heavy sigh, he headed in the direction of the Fodina Caestino Mine elevator where he regrouped with Prompto and Gladio. Thanks to Cor, they knew there was a royal tomb located in the quarry below. The moment he went to summon the lift, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. Turning around, he saw it was Ignis.

"Ready to set out?" The tactician questioned.

Uh..." Noctis was unsure if he should let him tag along due to his lack of eyesight. He knew Ignis too well and opted to not leave him behind. "Yeah. You sure you're up for this, Specs?"

The bespectacled man nodded. "I'll manage somehow."

Noctis pressed the button and summoned the lift. Once it arrived, they stepped inside and it carried them down into the quarry. The group stepped off the elevator and made their way down the slope. Prompto grimaced when he stepped in a muddy puddle of water. "Feeling a little out of my element."

"We're a foreign species in this environment. Mind we don't end up prey," Ignis advised.

"Right, good tip," Noctis said.

Due to Ignis' injury, he walks at a slower pace than the others. Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio made sure not to leave the advisor behind as they navigated through the abandoned quarry. Prompto remained glued to the tactician's side in case he were to slip or trip in the mud.

The royal retinue walked down a windy slope into the quarry. As they passed a rusted bulldozer, they spotted movement in the distance. There was a pack of gurangatches wandering the shallow puddle outside the sinking mining machinery.

Creeping up on the group of monsters, Gladio summoned his greatsword and warned the tactician beside him. "Watch out, Iggy, they're on top of us."

"Ah, thank you," Ignis said as Noctis summoned his blade and performed a warp-strike.

"Don't thank me yet," Gladio retorts. He swings his sword at an approaching gurangatch, knocking it on its side.

Prompto summoned his pistol and shot the downed monster, killing it with a single shot. Noctis, who was still blinded by anger from his argument with Gladio, was being reckless and wound up being grabbed by one of the gurangatches. He fell on his back as the creature dragged him through the shallow water.

Although still mad at the prince, Gladio couldn't allow him to get hurt and attacked the creature latched on to his ankle. After he was freed, Noctis didn't even thank his shield before warp-striking another enemy.

When the last gurangatch is defeated, Noctis dispels his blade and glances in Ignis' direction. "Hey, you should hang back."

"Was I in the way?" Ignis asked, slightly dejected.

"No, you weren't. It's just—" Noctis was unsure how to end his sentence and fell silent with a huff. Returning to the task at hand, he trudged through the dirty water towards the path leading deeper into the quarry.

"Tomb must be down below," Gladio commented as they traveled down the sloping path.

Prompto was standing beside Ignis when he nearly slipped in the mud. "Whoa. Careful, Ignis."

Ignis sighed, annoyed by his disability. "Right."

Walking underneath large tree roots, the group comes across mining machinery blocking the path. "They parked here?" Gladio groaned.

"Wish we could write 'em a ticket," Prompto said.

Noctis took a closer look at the machinery and noticed there was nothing they could do from here.

"Nothing but a giant roadblock," Gladio muttered.

"Ironic for a vehicle," the sharpshooter commented.

"If we get its motor running, perhaps we can move it out of the way," Ignis chimed in.

"Then we better head back," Noctis mumbled.

Heading back up the path, they returned to the collapsed mining facility. Prompto was helping to search for a way to clear the path, but stopped when he felt an intense burning sensation on his wrist. "Hot! Hot! Hot!" He shook his wrist, confused as to what was causing him pain.

"The hell's wrong with you?" Gladio spat.

"I-It's not me!" Prompto cried out. He saw the gemstone was glowing brightly and realized it was the source of his pain. He quickly took off the bracelet and instantly found relief. "It's the bracelet."

"What's wrong with it?" Noctis asked.

"I-I don't know..." He examines the accessory closely. "It's never done this before."

All of a sudden, a spectral image of (Y/n) appeared in front of him. He gasped in shock, nearly dropping the bracelet. Alongside the girl was a fuzzy image of a man. He couldn't make out any facial features or what he was wearing. Reaching out, he tried to touch her. "(Y-Y/n)...?" His hand passed through her body.

At that moment, the ghostly image of the spirit began yelling at the man. "What the hell were you thinking?! You've gone too far!"

"I haven't gone far enough!" The man hollered back. "I thought you of all people would understand!"

"Oh, I understand completely. But this is not the way to do this! You're sick in the head! I won't support your experiments anymore!" (Y/n) turned her back on the man and began walking way. She didn't make it far before the man grabbed a sword and ran towards her. He plunged the blade through her back, the sharp tip piercing through her chest. All that fell from the girl's lips was a painful gasp.

"No!" Prompto shrieked out.

"Forgive me, (Y/n)..." The man mumbled somewhat sorrowfully. "But I can't lose you to those Lucian bastards. I will make the perfect copy and you will be mine, body and soul." He yanked the blade from her body, droplets of blood flying through the air.

Prompto leant forward to catch (Y/n) as she fell. Her body passed through his arms, his eyes widening as he remembered he couldn't touch her. He fell to his knees in the murky water, watching the spectral image of his beloved bleed profusely and the life leave her body. Slowly, her body and the man shattered into crystal shards. They floated through the air before vanishing.

The vision ended. Prompto wasn't sure what to do. His hands were shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks, but no sound came from him. Noctis told Ignis what happened once the shock wore off. By what the prince described, the tactician may have an answer to what transpired. "I do believe the term for such visionary is a memory echo."

"What's that?" Noctis inquired.

"A memory echo is a spectral vision which results from immense escalation of emotions from a guardian. The gemstone becomes enabled to exhibit a memory of a spirit."

"So to put it simply, we just saw one of (Y/n)'s memories?"

"Precisely."

Prompto shook his head, snapping out of his grievous state. He stood up and showed them the bracelet. The gem was still intact. "Th-That's not possible! (Y/n)'s still alive! A-And we've been together since we were toddlers!"

Gladio crosses his arms. "Maybe she's been lying to you."

"She's not a liar!" Prompto yelled angrily. The three were shocked. Never had they heard the blonde raise his voice out of anger. Prompto lowered his head, sliding the bracelet back onto his wrist when the gemstone ceased glowing. "She's not a liar..."

"Whatever," Gladio scoffed. He spun on his heels and continued to search for a way to clear the machinery. Noctis and Ignis weren't sure what to say to their friend and also joined the shield. With a huff of sorrow and anger, Prompto follows after his friends.

Eventually, the group discovers a control panel for the machinery. Prompto, although still having mixed feelings from witnessing the memory echo, was somewhat cheerful at the discovery. "This looks promising!"

"Is it operational?" Ignis asked.

"We'll see." Noctis inspects the control panel and starts up the machinery. Black smoke begins to pour out of its smokestacks, but abruptly stops after a moment.

"Hey. What're you stopping for?" Gladio snappily questioned.

"I'm not," Noctis hissed.

Prompto inspected a little closer and found a note. "Let's see here... "In case of power failure, use backup generators." There's a key in the shed."

They head to the lower trenches of the quarry as the sun began to set. Turning on their flashlights, they cautiously proceeded forward. After defeating some snagas, they continued through the windy path of the trenches. Soon, they arrived at Plantagh Haven and decided to call it a night.

A silence befell the group as Gladio distanced himself from the others. Even after enjoying cup noodles, he still wasn't in any mood to talk to anyone. By the time it was ready to sleep, no one said a word.

<—————————————<<<<<

The next morning, they left the haven and continued their search for the generator key. They found it near the shed guarded by a pack of falxfangs. With a quick ice spell, the creatures were all dead and the group claimed the generator key. With it, they searched for the generators and were able to reactivate them.

Returning to the machinery's primary control panel, Noctis was able to activate the machinery. They could hear the sound of the machine moving in the distance. "Did you hear that?" Noctis asked.

"Sounds like we're clear!" Prompto cheered.

"Grand," Ignis replied.

"Then let's move," Gladio huffed.

As the royal retinue begins to make their way down the newly cleared path, the shield stopped Noctis. "Hold up." The boy stops and turns to face his shield, allowing him to continue. "You sure you're ready for this? You got what it takes?"

"To do what?" Noctis snapped.

"To face your ancestors and convince them to lend you their strength. Got a long road ahead. Can you see this through? To the end?"

"Can and will," Noctis remarked with strong resolve. "Whether I like it or not, I've got a duty to fulfill—as king."

"You're damn right, you do. Then that means you'd better start taking this seriously." Gladio walks on past Noctis and heads deeper into the quarry.

With the machinery no longer blocking their path, they were able to head to the deepest parts of Fodina Caestrino.

Continuing down the path, the marksman took in their surroundings. "This cave is huge!"

Ignis lifted his head, loosening his grip on his cane slightly. "The tomb's further in?"

"You wanna wait here?" Noctis asked.

"Alone, here," Gladio sneered.

The prince glared at him. "Not what I said."

The conversation ended and the group proceeded further into the quarry. They eventually draw closer to the swamp at the bottom of the mine. Prompto grimaced when he smelt something foul in the air. "Man, something stinks around here. Don't slip and fall in whatever that is."

In the swamp located at the bottom, outside the entrance to the royal tomb, Noctis and the others come across several large organic sacs hanging between some tree roots. "What is this?" Prompto asked.

"I hate eggs," Gladio grumbled.

"Do we really wanna know what's back there?"

Suddenly, large squirming tentacles come out of the swamp followed by the malboro they belong to. The group backs away from the creature. The marksman stares, mouth agape at the sight of the creature. "That looks like a mouth. Is that its face?!"

Ignis, although he could smell the horrid odor seeping from the creature's being, couldn't see what had the blonde on edge. "What? What is it?"

"Something real bad!" Noctis summoned a spear and leapt into action. He charged towards the malboro and slashed at it. Prompto remained beside Ignis, keeping his distance from the foul-smelling creature. Gladio swung his greatsword, dodging the tentacles in the process.

Noctis activated the armiger and surge forward, slashing wildly at the malboro. When he no longer had the strength to support the armiger, the weapons vanished.

As the battle carries on, malboro sprouts begin to hatch. They scurry towards the boys. Prompto killed a few as they approached. "Whoa! Look who's hatching!"

"Bust 'em up!" Gladio shouted, slicing a few sprouts with a single swipe of his blade.

The three continue to fight against the malboro and the small sprouts. Ignis remained on the sidelines, knowing he would only get in the way. Noctis and Gladio delivered blow after blow, but none of their attacks were causing heavy damage. Not even Prompto's bullets could cause much damage.

"It's useless," Gladio sneered.

Prompto began to grow uneasy. "What do we do?!"

"This might be a good time to panic," Noctis said.

"No. There must be a way!" Ignis shouted, refusing to give up.

Just then, the malboro goes berserk. It opens its mouth, spewing its bad breath. Noctis received a whiff immediately and backed away with the others behind him. "Gotta shut that thing's trap!"

The malboro sucks in air and prepares to unleash another puff of bad breath. That's when inspiration dawns on Ignis's face. "Noct, I have an idea." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a magic flask. "If I may..." He hurls the magic flask down the malboro's gullet. A second later, flame erupts from the creature's throat. Feeling the immense heat and hearing the malboro wail out in pain, he knew his idea was successful. "Ah, as I suspected!"

"It really worked!" Prompto cheered.

"Nice one, Iggy," Gladio commented.

"Now, we've a fighting chance," the strategist said.

Ignis joins the fray and uses Libra Elementia. With the elemental attack, he torches the malboro to a crisp. Hearing the creature was silent, he asked, "Is it dead?"

"It is—and it's all thanks to Iggy!" Prompto chanted.

Gladio glanced at the strategist. "Iggy, you saved us."

"Seriously. We'd be plant food if it wasn't for you."

"Happy to help," Ignis responded.

Gladio looked over at Noctis with a scowl. "What, no royal commendation from His Majesty?"

"None for you, at least," Noctis quipped.

The group walk over to where the eggs were hanging. Gladio analyzed the small sacs. "Whisking them just makes a mess—better fry 'em."

Noctis incinerates the eggs, revealing the door to the royal tomb hidden behind them. Prompto recognizes the design and was relieved. "I think we found it!"

"Just wish they found a better place to build it," the prince commented. He enters the tomb and acquires the Katana of the Warrior. Leaving the tomb, he regroups with the others.

"All right, let's haul ass," Gladio said once the younger boy rejoined them.

Noctis nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let's."

As the royal retinue walks back out into the swamp, Ignis stops everyone. "A moment?"

Gladio faces the advisor. "Is everything okay?"

"It bloody well isn't," he snapped. "And I won't suffer this pointless bickering in silence any longer. Let's be frank. My vision hasn't improved, and probably won't. Yet in spite of this... I would remain with you all. Til the very end."

The shield crossed his arms with a scowl. "Sorry, but I object. War is a matter of life and death."

"But, we'll be there!" Prompto chimed in.

"It's not about us looking out for him!" He growled.

"Uh-huh. Well, then he should be free to choose," the sharpshooter retorted.

"There's more to it than just what he wants!"

"I know full well! I won't ask you to slow down. If I can't keep up, I will bow out," Ignis intervened.

Gladio casted his glare towards Noctis. "What says "His Majesty"?"

Ignis turned his head in the raven-haired boy's direction. "Noct, you are king. One cannot lead by standing still. A king pushes onward always, accepting the consequences and never looking back." He then glanced in the shield's general direction. "Gladio, Noct will take his rightful place, but only once he's ready."

The brute is quiet for a moment before relenting and turning his back. "Have it your way. We're still taking a big risk." He then turns to look at Noctis. "We better all be ready." Gladio walks off, leaving the others behind.

Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis follow after Gladio and make their way back to the elevator. They rode it back up to the train station. As they stepped off the lift, they inhaled the fresh air. They wander over to the train, but Noctis stopped when he asked, "You guys mind if we stop in Tenebrae?"

"Might as well hop off," Prompto replied.

"If it helps him move on," Gladio said.

Noctis glanced over at Ignis, feeling resolved thanks to their earlier conversation. He wanted to express just how much he meant to him and the others and how they'd be there whenever he needed a helping hand. "We're here for you."

Prompto nodded in agreement. "Yeah, let us help you."

All of a sudden, the boarding bell begins to ring. Prompto smiled at the sound. "And we're off!"

The marksman makes for the train. Gladio comes along behind him, guiding Ignis. "Are we clear?" The shield asked.

"Crystal," Ignis replied.

"Hey, watch your step," Noctis said.

"You're not "pushing onward"?" Gladio asked the younger boy.

"Not at his expense."

"Fair enough."

Just as they were about to board the train, a familiar voice called out to the sharpshooter. "Prompto."

Prompto was almost convinced his mind was playing tricks on him because of how much he missed his beloved. He was afraid to turn around and see another spectral image of his guardian. He wanted the real (Y/n), not some ghostly apparition. Building up his courage, he turned around. When seeing it was no mere figment of his imagination, his cerulean eyes widened as they locked with golden ones. "(Y/n)...?"

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[nonstop-haikyuu]

Saving Kacchan

A another fic from my other blog! Just a small bkdk hurt and comfort piece that takes place after Bakugou was kidnapped! 

Word Count: 1,638 

“Stay back, Deku!” Bakugo insisted, just as the villain with stitches yanked him into the warp, disappearing from sight as Izuku dove towards them, only to smash into the ground as Katsuki was taken from his friends. The young heroes stared at the sight where the blond student had disappeared from then slowly turned to Deku, who was still lying on his stomach, a look of disbelief and something that could only be described as heartbreak across the face of Midoriya. 

Todoroki inched forward, perhaps to help his friend to his feet or pat him on the back in reassurance but the shattered voice of Izuku rang out as he screamed, his voice rattling against the trees, the leaves fluttering at the sound. 

Soon, Tsu and Ochako managed to catch up to the rest of their friends and as they broke through the line of trees into the small opening, they paused at the sight that greeted them. There, lying in the center of his friends, was a now sobbing Izuku, his arms lying limp at his side. 

The frog like hero turned to Tokoyami, who was laying on the forest floor, confusion and frustration across his face then she murmured, “No… they couldn’t have gotten Bakugo.” But with a quick nod of her friend’s head, instantly one of Izuku’s greatest fears were confirmed: his life long friend and long term crush had been kidnapped by the League of Villains and no one had any idea on why they wanted him. 

Eventually the group was able to make it back to camp, Aizawa encountering them as they broke the treeline, a now unconscious Izuku cradled in Shoji’s arms, the rest of the students limping in beside them. The damage was evident and it was clear that whatever the villains were aiming for, they at least succeeded in one part: capturing Katsuki Bakugo. 

The first time that Izuku regained consciousness for an amount of time longer than a minute, his mother was downstairs in the cafeteria, grabbing something for her to eat. Aizawa was waiting bedside, to give an update as best as he could. However, the fever he gained from his injuries had turned him delirious and it nearly broke Aizawa’s heart to tell the young hero the truth about what had been going on for the last two days. 

“Kacchan,” Izuku rushed out, nearly jumping out of his skin, “I need to find Kacchan, I can’t let Shigaraki have him, he’s mine!” His teacher laid a gentle hand on his shoulder then stated in the softest voice he could muster, “Stop, you’re going to rip your stitches. Bakugou… he hasn’t been found yet, but we’re looking for him.”

An almost inhuman screech erupted from the young hero then began thrashing around in his bed, fighting his teacher’s grasp as he screamed, “Kacchan! I have to find Kacchan! He can’t be left on his own, I won’t let him think that I left him behind!” A nurse rushed in then murmured, “It’s okay, sweetie, it’s alright, I think you’re just a bit delirious from the pain, so just lay back and relax, I’m going to give you something to numb that darn old fever of yours.” 

The next time that he awoke, Inko was standing outside of his room chatting with a doctor then he turned to the left of him, surprised to see Recovery Girl putting away her lip balm as she sat in the chair beside the bed. She glanced up then said softly, “Oh Midoriya… I heard what you did for that young boy, to protect him. And poor Bakugou.. I am so sorry, Izuku. I know how much he means to you.” 

Izuku’s body began to tremble, tears streaming down his face and she raised a soft hand to his face, wiping his tears away as she murmured, “It’s okay, sweetie. All Might is going to find him. Don’t you about a single thing, Izuku. The only thing that you need to worry about is getting better.” 

He sniffled and curled into himself as best as he could without too much stress on his body then the recovery hero gave an understanding nod before exiting the hospital room. And so much more would take place over the course of the next few weeks. The heroes would rescue Bakugou, All Might would defeat All for One and retire as the Symbol of Peace, and the students of UA would move into the dorms as a further precaution to prevent villain attacks. 

Izuku was finishing up the final touches in his room when someone knocked on his door, causing him to pause. Uraraka and Iida had both stopped by when they had finished moving in and they had offered Midoriya to go to lunch with them but he turned them down, citing that he still had so much to finish and he was still feeling the aftereffects of the camp attack. So who was knowing at his door? 

He began to walk towards the door when the person began to knock insistently, clearly agitated that Deku hadn’t answered their first civil tap. Confusion set in when he realized that it was Bakugou on the other side of the door then the green haired teen opened the door to see a glaring Katsuki. 

“Took you long enough to open the damn door, Deku. What are you, deaf? You know what, don’t answer that.” Bakugou muttered, pushing into Midoriya’s room. Izuku raised his eyebrows at his oldest friend then yelped, “W-Wait, Kacchan, what are you doing in here?!” 

The blond shot him an annoyed look and settled at the foot of his bed as he answered, “What the hell do you think I’m doing in here, you damn nerd? I’m here to… I’m here to say I’m sorry. I know you got real fucked up when the League kidnapped me and I wanted to ask you… Fuck, this was a stupid idea. Fucking Dumb Hair and his fucking idiotic ideas-”

“Wait, Kirishima told you to come say sorry to me?” Midoriya asked in a quiet tone. Bakugou froze and glanced up when he realized what he had let slip then Izuku slid into a chair, staring down at the multiple journals he had stacked on the desk. 

Katsuki came to a slow stand then crouched in front of the green haired hero before he admitted in a low voice, “No. I decided to come say sorry after I got unpacked. Shitty Hair wanted me to ask you something else because he has this stupid fucking theory about us, said he had actual proof to back it up too.” 

Midoriya stiffened as the words set in and Katsuki took notice of the tenseness before he accused, “You know what he wanted me to ask you now… don’t you, Deku?” Color flushed into the shorter teen’s cheeks and he began to shake his head before Bakugou rose to his feet, tilting Izuku’s head upwards with a finger as the blond snarled, “Don’t fucking lie to me, nerd, I know you better than any of these extras could ever fuckin’ hope to. Tell me the truth: do you know what Kirishima wanted me to ask you?” 

“I mean, I might but if I’m being honest, I have no real proof if it’s what he wanted you to talk to me about and if it is what I’m thinking he wanted you to ask then he has no right telling you to ask me that when he knows that I know that you don’t actually feel the same way-” Katsuki tangled his fist into the front of Izuku’s shirt then jerked up to his feet, leaning close enough to where their noses brushed then he hissed, “Quit your fucking blabbering, Deku, and tell me the fucking truth. Don’t tell me what you think you know, just fucking tell me what you think Dumb Hair sent me to ask you.” 

Midoriya’s eyes widened and he gulped hard before he whispered, “I think he sent you to ask me if I had a crush on you.” His emerald gaze fell to the floor as Bakugou stared at him, his expression surprisingly unreadable. After so many years of knowing each other, Izuku thought that he knew every emotion and the way that Katsuki had viewed them but this one was new and so unfamiliar to the younger teen. 

There was no telling what was about to happen, so how was Izuku supposed to protect himself when Bakugou would lose his temper? But then the truly unexpected thing happened; Katsuki released Deku’s shirt and cupped his face to pull him into a kiss. 

Midoriya’s knees nearly buckled but the blond pulled him closer, his tongue peeking out to press into the young teen’s mouth before Katsuki backed away, a satisfied grin across his face. Izuku stared up at him with wonder in his eyes and the taller hero traced a thumb along Deku’s bottom lip as he rumbled, “Don’t fuckin’ assume shit, ‘kay, nerd? Makes you look like an ass and trust me, you have enough ass already.” The green haired teen stared at his oldest friend then he whispered, “You kissed me… Kacchan, do you like me?” 

“You’re a pain in the ass nerd who doesn’t know when to stop talking. But you’re my fuckin’ nerd so yeah, I guess I like you or whatever. And if Shitty Hair hears that I kissed you because I let it slip that he wanted me to ask you out, I swear to God, I blast you to America, you got me?” A giddy laugh escaped Midoriya and he smiled up at Bakugou like he had hung the entire galaxy just for Izuku then he replied, “I got you, Kacchan. And I’m not letting you go this time.”

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Three

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Three

Jace woke with the sun just barely beginning to filter through his bedroom window. He’d been half-afraid, half-hopeful that he’d wake to find he and Simon had gravitated toward each other in the night, but they each remained firmly on their sides of the bed, a scant few inches between them.

They had, however, shifted slightly. Simon had kicked the covers off in the night, or maybe Jace had stolen them, and Simon was curled toward the center of the bed, facing Jace, one hand tucked beneath his cheek. His curls stuck out at odd angles, and there was a faint damp patch of drool on the pillow beneath him. Jace thought it was oddly endearing. Either that, or he was completely losing his mind. Probably both. Either way, he needed to get the hell out of bed before he did something really stupid, like reaching out to straighten those curls, or just continuing to lie here staring like some love-struck supermarket romance novel heroine.

Making as little noise as possible, Jace made his way out of bed and pulled on some actual clothes, including the very silly, but very soft reindeer-adorned sweater Izzy had given him for Christmas last year.

“How is it morning already?” Simon’s voice was muffled, and Jace refused to look over and see him looking, no doubt, adorable and far too right in that bed.

“The inexorable march of time,” Jace told him. “I was just going to head down and see about starting some coffee if Iz hasn’t already.”

“Gimme just a second and I’ll come with you,” Simon said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Clary swears your sister’s coffee is amazing and almost makes it worth getting up as early as she does.”

“Nothing is worth getting up when Izzy does,” Jace told him, folding his arms and looking pointedly away while Simon changed. “But she does make some damned good coffee. I’m not sure how she manages to do that when she’s such a disaster with everything else in the kitchen.”

“That’s like the opposite of my sister. Becky is a great cook, but she can never brew a pot of coffee without getting grounds in it. Which is kind of messed up considering how much of it she drinks.”

“Is that where you get your caffeine addiction from?” Jace asked, risking a glance over at Simon for the sake of treating him to a mocking raised eyebrow. He was just in time to catch the last sliver of toned abs disappearing beneath the hem of a Yoda sweatshirt.

“Pretty sure we both get it from Mom.” Simon grinned at him, offering his hand. “Ready when you are, sweetheart.”

“Then let’s get a move on, sugar bear.”

They were greeted with Izzy’s singsong “Good morning!” as they descended the stairs. Clary, feet tucked up beneath her on the couch and leaning heavily into her girlfriend as she sipped her coffee, offered them a sleepy wave.

“About time,” Max muttered from where he sat, engrossed in his phone at the end of the opposite couch.

Jace should have known something was up from the way Izzy watched them as they made their way downstairs, should have felt the telltale dread he always felt at her slowly growing Cheshire Cat grin. But he hadn’t had his first cup of coffee, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep, and he was still maybe just a little distracted by that tempting glimpse he’d gotten of Simon’s abs.

So, he was taken entirely surprised at Izzy’s half-shouted, “Stop!”

It was only after he’d obeyed on instinct that he saw the danger, saw a hint of Izzy’s manic smile reflected in the smirk Clary gave Simon.

“Look up,” Clary instructed.

Jace did, and then turned a flat stare on his sister. “Iz. Did you really get up before everyone else just so you could catch us under the mistletoe?”

“It’s not supposed to be for you,” Izzy said dismissively. “And Max was up before me, anyway.” Her grin grew. “But as long as you’re there.”

Jace glanced at Simon. They hadn’t actually talked about kissing since that brief, interrupted discussion in the cafe back in Boston, when Jace had promised to follow Simon’s lead. He hadn’t thought they’d end up under this kind of pressure, though, and the last thing he wanted was for Simon to feel like he didn’t have any other option than kissing Jace.

He turned back toward his sister. “Iz—”

His protest was interrupted by a pair of guitar-calloused hands cupping his face and drawing him into a gentle kiss. It barely lasted a second, not even long enough for Jace to really register it until it was already over, but Jace still missed the feel of Simon’s lips on his own as soon as it ended.

“All right,” Simon said. “We’ve satisfied your prurient interests, now tell me where to find coffee.”

“Big, brushed steel pot on the counter in the far right corner of the kitchen,” Izzy told him. “I’m glad at least you’re fun in the morning, even if Jace isn’t.”

“There’s still time for me to return your present, you know,” Jace told her.

“Nuh-uh. It’s Christmas, stores are all closed.”

“Are they always like this?” Simon asked Clary.

“Always,” she confirmed.

“No, they’re usually much worse,” Alec said as he and Magnus descended the stairs. “This is Iz and Jace on their best behavior.”

“Stick around long enough that they start thinking of you as family and the gloves will come off,” Magnus added with an exaggerated shudder.

Izzy didn’t even have a chance to point out the mistletoe before Alec was leaning in to give his fiancé a soft kiss. “You are family.”

Jace wasn’t sure they’d even noticed the mistletoe.

“Technically, not for another five months,” Magnus said. “Which reminds me, I need to call the florist back this week.”

“Already taken care of,” Alec assured him. “Even if I’m still not entirely clear on what a gladiolus is.”

“I only know that Scott Joplin wrote a rag named after them,” Simon said. “Which, I am realizing is completely beside the point. I’m going to go get that coffee.”

He turned to Jace. “You grab us some good seats, and I’ll bring you a cup.”

A few minutes later, everyone had a cup of coffee (even Max, although the cup Alec made for him was mostly milk and sugar), and Izzy had started a new pot brewing. Jace sipped his coffee contentedly as Simon gave an excited play-by-play of the winter concert to Clary, who apparently hadn’t heard the full story of the Great Harpsichord Mishap yet.

Jace, who had heard the story three times already, found his mind wandering back to that kiss. Which was stupid, because it wasn’t even that remarkable a kiss. Just a quick press of lips, really. Objectively speaking, he’d had better kisses. Many of them. It made no sense that he would be so hung up on this one, especially since it had clearly been no big deal to Simon. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the soft warmth of Simon’s lips, the way the callouses on Simon’s fingertips caught just slightly on the stubble along his jawline.

Luke joined them not long after the fresh pot of coffee finished brewing, bypassing the mistletoe trap by virtue of having stayed in the guest room on the first floor.

“Mom is taking too long,” Max announced as Luke returned to the living room with his own mug of coffee. “We should wake her up.”

“Max,” Alec chastised.

“What happened to being twelve now, buddy?” Jace teased.

“I want to open presents before I turn thirteen,” Max answered flatly.

“Your mother was up late getting things ready for today,” Luke said. “You should let her sleep.”

Max gave him a long look, then rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his phone.

“And how exactly would you know Maryse was up late?” Clary asked with an obviously feigned innocent curiosity.

“Because I stayed up to help her,” Luke said, leveling his stepdaughter with a look that said that was the end of the conversation. Clary’s feigned innocence turned to a more obvious smirk, but she let it drop.

By the time Maryse made her way down the stairs almost an hour later, Max was practically vibrating with impatience, although he was clearly trying not to show it.

And so was Izzy, although she was far less obvious about it. At least until she gasped in faux shock, “Oh no, Mom! Looks like you’re standing right underneath some mistletoe. Guess you’re going to have to kiss someone.”

She and Clary turned expectant smiles toward Luke, who returned a flat look and an equally flat, “Really?”

“Isabelle,” Maryse said in the tone of voice that usually preceded a lecture, “it’s impolite to make assumptions about people’s personal lives, or to try to trick them into revealing personal details they might not be ready to share.”

Izzy had the grace to look chagrined. “Sorry, Mama.”

“You’re forgiven,” Maryse said. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” She turned to Luke. “Lucian, are you just going to sit there or are you going to get over here and kiss me good morning.”

Izzy clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her excited shriek as a laughing Luke walked over and let Maryse drag him into the sort of kiss Jace would never have expected her to give anyone in front of her children.

“Gross,” Max muttered. He had the sense not to say it loud enough for Maryse or Izzy to hear, but Jace kicked his foot and gave him a disapproving shake of his head.

“As you’ve probably gathered, and some of you clearly already guessed,” Maryse said, giving Izzy a pointed look, “Lucian and I have been seeing each other.” “

“We were planning to tell you after the holidays,” Luke added, “but I guess there’s no point in waiting now, is there?”

“We all kind of guessed,” Alec admitted. “And we couldn’t be happier for you.”

“You guys were pretty obvious,” Clary said.

“Super obvious,” Izzy agreed.

“Now can we open presents?” Max asked.

~~~

“Congratulations,” Jace said the next morning, as Simon was packing the last of his things back into his suitcase. “You survived an entire Lightwood Christmas celebration.”

“It was surprisingly less dramatic than I’d been led to believe it would be,” Simon said. “Except maybe the mistletoe thing. For a second there, I thought Luke was ready to strangle Clary.”

“Izzy’s the one he should be annoyed at,” Jace said. “I’m sure she talked Clary into helping her set that up.”

“Uh-uh, no way,” Simon insisted. “I know a Clary Fray plan when I see one, and that had her metaphorical fingerprints all over it.”

“Izzy’s too. I guess the rest of us will have to watch our backs with the two of them together.” He paused. “About the mistletoe thing. We’re okay, right?”

“Huh?” Simon threw him a confused glance. “Of course we are.” He frowned. “Unless... I didn’t overstep, did I? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know we never finished our discussion, and I didn’t even ask before I kissed you, I just thought—”

“Simon,” Jace interrupted. “It’s fine. I told you, I’m happy to follow your lead. I just wanted to make sure Iz and Clary didn’t pressure you into it. But as far as I’m concerned, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

For just an instant, Simon’s frown seemed to morph into something that was almost speculative, and Jace wondered if he’d given too much away. But it was gone so quickly he thought he might have imagined it, replaced by an easy smile.

“Cool. I’ll keep that in mind in case we get ambushed with any more mistletoe.”

It took Simon almost twenty minutes to get out the door once he made it downstairs. Clary wanted to nail down plans for getting together later in the week, and Max kept trying to convince Simon to stay a little longer and play the new video game they’d spent half the previous afternoon playing together.

“Max,” Jace said finally, “Simon needs to go spend time with his own family. If you want, I can play with you.”

Max considered him, then shook his head. “You haven’t got the combos down yet. You’re too easy to beat. But I guess I could teach you. If you want.”

“Sure,” Jace told him. “Why don’t you go get it set up while I help Simon take his stuff to the car.”

Max ran off without even bothering to say goodbye, and Jace shook his head. “I don’t know where that kid got his lack of manners.”

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Simon said, giving him a pointed look. “But I can be magnanimous about it, since he recognizes my clear video game superiority.”

“One day on a new game does not a champion make,” Jace told him. “We’ll see who’s got video game superiority when we get back home.”

“I’ve got an even better idea,” Clary interjected. “What about a game of Land Mines at Magnus’s New Year’s Eve party? Me and Simon against you and Izzy.”

“Oh,” Simon said, throwing an uncertain look at Jace. “Magnus’s party?”

They hadn’t talked about the New Year’s Eve party. Jace had thought about inviting Simon, had thought about inviting him even before they’d agreed to play each other’s boyfriends, but he figured Simon already had plans with his own friends and family. And now, it seemed too much to ask if it meant Simon spending New Year’s Eve having to pretend to be his boyfriend.

“You are coming, right?” Clary asked, looking between Simon and Jace with clear concern. “We always spend New Year’s Eve together. Unless you guys made other plans?”

“No!” Simon said quickly, avoiding looking at Jace. “No, of course I’ll be there. Obviously. I’m just, you know, not sure kicking Jace’s ass at Land Mines is worth the hangover.”

“The part where you’re worried about your hangover means we’ve already won,” Jace said, hating the way that Simon wouldn’t look at him. He’d have to find a way to make this up to him. “Not that you’ve ever beat me at a drinking game.”

“That’s only because I don’t play them,” Simon said, finally meeting his eyes with a forced smile. “I’ve watched Maia and Lily both drink you under the table, though, so I think I’ve got a pretty good shot, especially with Fray on my team.”

“You only say that because you’ve never seen Iz drink,” Jace told him. “I’ve definitely got the advantage when it comes to partners.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Simon’s smile was less forced now, falling back into their usual banter.

“Uh huh,” Jace said, unimpressed. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Now get going before your mom decides she hates me for making you late before I even get the chance to meet her.”

“You’re cute and occasionally charming. She’ll love you,” Simon told him, but he picked up his bag anyway and started to head toward his van. Then he stopped and threw a quick glance at Clary, who still stood beside Jace in the doorway, before dropping his bag and strode the three steps back up to Jace to pull him into a kiss.

This kiss wasn’t fleeting like their kiss under the mistletoe had been. Jace had plenty of time to register what was happening as Simon’s mouth moved against his, enough time to relax into it. Enough time to get just a little lost and pull Simon closer.

When Simon pulled back from the kiss, he left behind the warmth of a sharp exhale against Jace’s lips. Jace opened his eyes to find Simon watching him with an unreadable expression.

“I’ll text you later,” Simon said.

“Yeah,” Jace agreed, hoping Simon couldn’t hear the faint unsteadiness in his voice.

“And I’ll see you,” Simon pointed at Clary, who Jace had momentarily forgotten was even there, “day after tomorrow.”

Right. Clary. That’s why Simon had kissed him. Because it would have been weird for him to leave without kissing his boyfriend goodbye. Jace stepped back, putting some much-needed space between the two of them.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Clary said.

Simon flashed Jace a quick smile before turning and taking his bag out to his van.

“Come on,” Clary said, linking her arm with Jace’s and tugging him back inside. “I need to go tell my girlfriend that I volunteered her to get trounced at Land Mines.”

“Please,” Jace said, doing his best to push everything that had just happened out of his mind. “You know you’re going to lose. Just admit it now and save yourself the embarrassment.”